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thelordofdarkreunion · 4 years ago

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Magnificent Scoundrels- Of Humans and Demons

It had been quite a while since I’ve came out with a story. In this, we have the explanation of what is happening in two of the galaxies concerning the shenanigans bringing them all together, as well as the more supernatural side of all of them. As usual, I do not own anything except Thomas Drake and his universe. Enjoy the story.

“Speak softly and carry a big stick.” -Theodore Roosevelt

Empyrean Iris Galaxy

Rundi Homeworld, Seat of the Galactic Assembly

“Nervous?”

“Actually, no. Not really.”

“Figures. First human to make contact with extraterrestrial life, now the first person to meet the newcomers from these new galaxies. Nothing fazes you,” Admiral Kelly sighed. Admiral Vir, dressed in an immaculately pressed grey uniform, grinned.

“They said space was the final frontier. As it turns out, we’ve got eight new galaxies out there. Life just got a lot more complicated. But, honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. More fun! More exploring!” said Vir.

“It takes all kinds, I suppose. But you have to deal with briefing the Assembly,” replied Kelly. “And deal with their possible reactions to the fact that they might not be the top dogs anymore,” she added as an afterthought.

“True,” sighed Vir. “The worst part of the job, by far.” A younger human officer stepped into the small, well lit room outside the main council chambers and turned to the Admirals.

“Admiral Vir, sir. The Assembly is ready.” He clutched his hands together, nervous to be in the presence of a living legend.

“Thank you,” replied Vir politely. He strode forward, only to pause briefly and look back at Kelly with a grin. “Oh, by the way, Star Wars is real.”

“Wait...what?”

He walked into the council chambers, radiating an aura of careful calmness. He looked to the seats where the various delegates from all the different species in the galaxy sat, looking slightly wistfully at the human section, wishing he could be there instead of standing alone at the head of the council. But, like he had said earlier, it went with the job, and he was the only person to make contact with the denizens of the other galaxies. He reached the speaker’s podium, and, after the usual useless bureaucratic formalities were made, began.

“Esteemed members of the Galactic Assembly, I am sure you have noticed that we are no longer the only populated galaxy within this universe. Approximately a month ago, an extreme anomaly caused nine different galaxies, including our own, from nine separate universes to co-exist in one singular universe. I come before you today, having met with people from each of the galaxies to brief you on the various governments from these other galaxies, what they are like, and what you should expect.” He paused for a moment. Perhaps he had used the word ‘galaxy’ too much in that speech? No. He had to be extremely specific, even at the risk of sounding redundant. “It should be noted that, interestingly enough, humans exist in all of these realities.” That drew a round of nervous murmerings. Humans were one of the newest additions to the Assembly, and were by far one of the more powerful and dangerous member races. Come to think of it, I might be lucky if they don’t start a riot over this, he mused.

“It should also be noted that, coincidentally, several of these new realities share similarities with old human stories. Should you wish to know more, the appropriate media has been forwarded to you.”

“Now, on to the main briefing.” Several delegates leaned forward in their seats expectantly. Notepads, recording devices, or computers were taken from their holding places. Adam cleared his throat. “This is what we have deemed Galaxy One…”

And so the briefing went on. He told them of the people he’d met, gave them the anatomical reports on new species of aliens. And, most importantly, he told them of their counterparts. Told them of both the good and the worrying.

The Galactic Empire: a fracturing, militaristic pro-human superpower that used to rule Galaxy 1.

The New Republic: a pro-democratic group that opposed and overthrew the Empire from Galaxy 1.

The United Federation of Planets: a peaceful yet technologically powerful group where all species were equal in Galaxy 3.

The Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation: a massive, privately funded mega-corporation that effectively ruled Earth and humanity in Galaxy 7.

The Covenant: a theocratic coalition of aliens dedicated to activating a series of devastating WMD’s in the belief that it would cause their ascension in Galaxy 4.

The Imperium of Man: a theocratic, xenophobic, militaristic pro-human superpower fighting an endless war against all comers in Galaxy 6.

The list went on, and on, and on. As each different government was mentioned, a map of their territories, capabilities, species, and symbol flashed on a centrally located holographic projector.

“Now, the next part is this. We have received word from the Citadel Council, the reigning government in what we have dubbed Galaxy 5, asking us to come to their capital for peaceful negotiations. They seem to be extremely similar to our own government, in the sense that they are a galaxy-spanning federation including multiple species. While I am no diplomat; that would be your area of expertise, the information we have gathered has led us to believe that this government in particular, and two others are the most similar to us and would be the best to ally with.” The room filled with hushed murmurings. The Drev delegate spoke up.

“And what is to stop all you humans from ending up like this? Or this?” He tapped a button, and the six-spoked circle of the Galactic Empire and the double-headed golden eagle of the Imperium of Man flashed to life on the console. “As there are humans in all of these galaxies, you could band together and wipe the rest of us out. What’s to stop you?” Vir paused for a moment.

“Because, being human is all about individuality. We have no collective. Our societies change all the time throughout history. It is often not a story of unity. In the end, a human is whatever it wants to be. The humans of this new reality are probably just as different to each other as all the other species are. And, because we are an individualistic species, the chances of us uniting under one banner to conquer not only one but nine different galaxies is not going to happen.” He looked out at all the different delegates, all the different aliens he had come to appreciate over so long. “One other thing. Most humans have a great sense of right and wrong. Something that many of you have come to appreciate over the time we’ve been in the Assembly, I’m sure. We know that to take your land, to kill your people, is wrong. And, as I said before, humans are different. There are evil and bad humans in this reality; there always have been good ones as well. The same still applies. While some of these humans will want to take from you everything, humans like me will always be there to fight by your side against tyranny.” The room broke into applause. Sometimes good speeches weren't about grandiose words. Sometimes they were simply there to get a point across. And Admiral Adam Vir was a master at that type of speaking.

He sighed to himself. No bad. There wouldn’t be any riots. Probably. Hopefully. He went on with his briefing, pausing slightly to wonder if similar things were happening in the other galaxies...

“I want one simple thing: money. I will tell you what I want; everyone knows what I want. But the people you call saviors, the ones who you think will deliver you and raise you up, they want something else. They want complete and utter control over every aspect of your life. And when you naive fools put them into power, in a short time you will miss my kind. But I will be dead, and you will be damned, because you never thought through the consequences of your actions.” -Martin Crossgrow

Aboard the Apocalypse

Thomas Drake sat in his quarters. The room was an odd combination of styles, with austere and sleek metal plating contrasting with the rustic stonework of a large electric fireplace and the handsome woodwork of the furniture. He sat before a large video screen, barely the width of a piece of paper. His black hair was immaculate, as always, and his deep blue eyes stared from underneath a brow furrowed with concentration. His fingers flew across a holographic keyboard, inputting the correct security procedures. A mesh of invisible, interlocking and ever-changing computer algorithms flashed across the screen. Good. Even if someone were to try and break into his ship’s computers, they would not find records of what he was doing. They could not. He pressed a few more keys, then waited.

Waited for one person. His...sponsor. For lack of a better word. The head of the most powerful corporation in his galaxy. The head of the Guild of Merchants, the corporate oligarchy that ruled the space in between the Galactic Federation and the Empire of Prosium. Ultra-capitalists to a somewhat disturbing extent, it was they who controlled most of the galaxy’s comperce, built most of the products, and of course, paid the most.

A series of chimes, repeating the same notes, sounded. They sounded faster, quicker, humming together, until one long, high, note sang out. The computer screen flashed from black with lines of green coding to reveal a face.

It was that of a man, skin pale from never seeing the warm kiss of a sun, pale from never leaving building complexes. It was old, with receding white hair and skin starting to sag, but the face and the eyes did not betray this age. They burned with energy, arrogance and contempt. Not the misplaced arrogance and perceived invincibility of youth, or the kind energy of an honest worker. No. These eyes shone with an arrogance of age and assurity, the arrogance of a man who knew with absolute certainty he was better and more powerful than anyone else. These eyes now turned to Thomas Drake, and took on a new expression. That of a superior looking on at a trusted subordinate.

“Captain Drake. How are you?” spoke the calm voice of Martin Crossgrow.

“I’m doing well, Mr. Crossgrow,” replied Drake.

“Wonderful. Now, what do you have for me?”

“Information. As per usual. Stocks, governments, companies...entities. In some cases.” Crossgrow gave an appreciative nod.

“Excellent. Your usual fee will be transferred to your account when the information reaches me.”

“Good. I wanted to warn you, though. In some of these new realities, there are...things. Things of...supernatural power. I’m getting you as much information as I can on them, so as to be better prepared if and when confronted.” At this, Crossgrow laughed, a low, dry, chuckle.

“I’m not afraid of the supernatural. If it does exist in these new galaxies, then there are people who will know how to fight it in those galaxies. And every man has a price. So if the time comes, I merely must pay that price. It’s simple.” Drake said nothing. He knew it wouldn’t be quite that simple. But he also knew that disagreeing with the head of the most powerful corporation in the galaxy, and his highest paying employer, was not a wise decision.

“If that’s how you play it, then that’s how you play it. But I think I need more information. Places, organizations with knowledge, information. That’s what I must find.” Crossgrow made a harrumph noise in his throat.

“Well, in the meantime, tell me about the financial side to these new places.”

“Of course. The biggest threat to the Guild is probably the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation. Monopoly. Rules humanity in one of these other galaxies. Produces quite powerful and interesting war machines. I’ve got the schematics for one type.” This elicited a laugh.

“I’m reasonably sure that you stole that from one of your...what do you call them…” he paused for a moment, then snapped his fingers in realization. “Ah, Scoundrels! Didn’t you?” Drake shrugged.

“Of course. It’s being sent to you as we speak. I’ve also got…” he trailed off as he tapped several buttons on his wrist computer. “Schematics for…” He looked up and grinned. “Chainsaw swords, plasma swords, rechargeable laser weaponry, jetpack boots, laser weapons that run off of explosive gasses, contractible body armor, high-quality medical gel that heals wounds almost instantly, cybernetic super-soldier armor, three types of personal shields, teleporters, omnitools, so-called ‘phaser weaponry’, two types of power armor, and the blood readouts from biotics, pariahs, and SPARTANs.” He held up a hand to forestall Crossgrow’s confused look at the last three items on the list. “It’s all described in the report.”

“Ah, very good. Very good, indeed, Captain Drake.” A slightly amused look crossed Crossgrow’s face. “Although, won’t your compatriots be upset if they knew you were selling their secrets?” Drake smiled in response.

“If they ever found out.” HIs smile grew wider, and both he and Crossgrow repeated the mantra in perfect synchronization. “Besides, that’s just. Good. Business.”

“Forget everything you think you know.” -Karl Mordo, upon Dr. Strange’s arrival in Kamar-Taj

Marvel Galaxy

Earth

The New York Sanctum

Doctor Steven Strange was a wizard. Not “wizard” in the sense that he was extremely good at something, like “technological wizard” or “engineering wizard”, but a literal magic wizard. Once upon a time, he had been a prestigious surgeon, but that had all ended in the fires of a car crash. He had traveled the world, trying to heal his broken body, and stumbled on a place that taught actual, real, magic.

Through a strange series of events, he had mastered these “mystical arts” and become the head of Earth’s sorcerers. It was his job to defend the planet and all its inhabitants from any and all magic or extra-dimensional threats. This, of course, was now a particular problem, seeing as eight different realities from different dimensions now existed in the same material universe as his reality did. Now he had eight new galaxies to take care of, and possible threats from all of them to fight.

Wonderful.

He sighed to himself. Might as well get started. Get it done with. Hopefully he didn’t get eaten. He breathed in, breathed out, his mind calm, tranquil. His heavy red cloak billowed around him, lifting him in the air as he took a cross-legged position. One more deep breath. He drew upon his power, and allowed his mind to roam. Not freely, of course. Silently. His metal defenses were high. No entities, no beings, could tune onto the small signature he emitted. It took practice, hours upon hours of it, combined with an innate talent to disguise one’s mental signature so.

He floated, his mind calm. Thoughts, emotions, feelings… Interesting. They all flitted through his brain, caressing the edges of his mind. Nothing for now. He roamed higher. Opened his mind to beyond his Earth, beyond his reality...and was immediately assaulted, battered, his mind tossed around like a cork upon an ocean. Travesty, glory, tragedy, celebration, hatred, hope, love, rage… He wanted to scream. He did not. He merely steeled his mental defenses, clamping down on the sanity of his own brain.

He saw...darkness crashing against light. An eternal battle, observed by one. Something larger at play. Something he did not, could not comprehend. Time began, the beginning played out, a universe expanded. Light. Beginning. Emotion. Differences. It reminded him of the principle of yin-yang, but on a much larger scale. Strange watched the universe, as millions of stars were born and died. The light encompassed everything. Shadows, tendrils of darkness, battled it, fought it, sometimes snuffed it out. The light won when it came forward, burning away the darkness, but if the light failed, gave up, the darkness crept forward to take its place. The light was passive, in a way, upholding the rules with a code of honor. The dark was not. It surged, striking forward, defying the rules and logic itself. Interesting. Strange got the feeling that there was something more here at play, something he didn’t know yet. But it wasn’t a threat. Yet. It could wait. He moved to the next galaxy, the next reality that had been entwined with his.

Next. His mind reached out once more. Now this place...this one was interesting.

It has power. Not separated from the real world, not some ancient deities having eldritch chess games. No. This one had...something different. An energy field, created from the energy of all living things, surrounding them, binding them, letting some get a taste of its power. Most interesting indeed. He went further.

A field. A field of ghosts. Roughly divided in two. On one side, strength, power, hate, rage, passion. On the other, peace, knowledge, serenity, harmony. Two different sides, two different users and practitioners of this energy field. Different individuals. No gods. No demons. Only mortals. But powerful ones. Two in particular stood out. Both on the side of passion. A void, a hungry, hungry void encompassing an individual of massive power. Another, a crackling nimbus of darkness and selfishness. They did nothing. But should they break free from this field of ghosts...the consequences...hmmm. What was this place, even? A place of the dead? Reflections of the living?

Strange whirled around as he felt a presence behind him. Another shade. But not milling on the field with the others. This one stood alone. It was of both sides...but neither. Light and dark swirled within the figure in perfect harmony. It walked forward, towards him. Strange could sense it was, or once was, a human. It wore stylized armor and a mask under a black, heavy, hooded robe. It inclined its head in greeting to Strange.

“What...what are you, exactly?” asked Strange. The robed figure started out on the field of ghosts.

“I was once like you, sorcerer.” The voice was whispery, swirling, ghostly. Beneath Strange could hear the faint trace of the voice of a dead man. “A man with a destiny.”

“Why are you not with the others?” said Strange. The figure gave the phantom impression of a laugh, then a sigh.

“I do not walk in the light, for it robs me of the stars. I do not walk in the dark, for it robs me of my surroundings. I walk in the twilight, and while both are dulled, I can see the entire picture and walk in balance.” He turned towards Strange. “Some say it is between light and dark. It is not. You must have balance. You must have harmony between the two. There is a war coming, sorcerer. A war that you must win. Your power will be with you. Always. Remember that.” The ghost faded into oblivion, and the vision of the field ended. Odd. The vision was something to meditate on for another day. After he had the complete picture.

Next one. This one had a parallel universe. A shadowy reflection of the real world, ruled by...something. The ruler wasn’t human, wasn’t demon or god, it was...something else. A creature of the shadows. Formed by them. Made by them. This reality was odd, yes, but it had no place in the real world. It could not come to nor affect the realm he was sworn to protect. No threats here. Next.

No magic here. Science. More than anything else. Fine. Good, actually. Less work for him to do. He was about to turn and leave, when he felt a presence. Something different. An ancient being. Strange blinked, and suddenly found himself in a blank white room. What?

Staring at him, lounging in a comfortable white chair with a drink in hand, was a man (no, being, he corrected himself) wearing a ridiculous, outlandish, garb of an old school extremely wealthy Renaissance priest. Okay. That was a new one. Personally, he much preferred the man from the other galaxy with his armor and heavy robe. Whatever. He was getting sidetracked. The being grinned at him.

“Surprised?” it asked. Strange recovered quickly.

“No,” he replied. The being laughed uproariously.

“He he, yes you are!” It sipped its drink. “It is so rare to get guests!” He turned suddenly, looking around at things that were not there. “Hmm. My time is short. There is much work to be done in little time. The gods of humanity are outnumbered. A war is coming. Heh. I see someone already told you that. Yes. There are forces teaming up. The darkness is spreading.” The being leaned closer. “I usually am not so straight forward, but it is doubtful you’ll see me again, so I must tell you these things now. Anyway, be prepared. Have fun. Try not to die. That would be bad.” The being snapped its fingers, and the room disappeared, leaving Strange hovering over the universe once more. He shook his head. Usually massively powerful beings did not make odd jokes while inviting him for drinks. More things to remember, more things to meditate on. He had to move on.

In two other universes, nothing. No semblance of any sort of magic or higher beings. Good. Nothing to worry about there. Next.

No magic here. Nothing. But..something was off. The souls of the dead were...missing. Nothing here. Odd. No matter. No gods, no demons, no other eldritch beings. Fine. Mysteries could be solved on other days. He had more important things to do.

He turned his gaze to the last galaxy. Felt as his mind and spirit floated forward. Immediately, he recognized this galaxy as two dimensions in one. Strange. But today was a day for oddness. Warily, he crept forward, mentally entering the new galaxy.

Emotion. Hate. Rage. BLOOD. Apathy. Stagnation. ROT. Movement. Hope. CHANGE. Lust. Pain. EXCESS. So much. Too much. Conflicting ideas. Dead uncountable, screaming in torment from a sea of souls. A Great Game, a chess match between beings he didn’t even want to know existed. And endless war, for billions of years, between factions so powerful he felt as if he were a single grain of sand in an hourglass, a person of such small importance that he could do nothing to change the future that would doom everything.

He screamed as these emotions, as the chaos of this place engulfed him, clawed at him, threatened to drown him. He tried to break free, used all of his power to try and get as far away from this place as he could, away from the madness. He gritted his teeth and focused, focused harder than he ever had, focused harder than the time after the wreck where he could not get his hands from shaking. He felt as if he were trapped, unable to run as if in a terrible nightmare. He could feel as creatures, demonic inhabitants of this realm started to notice his presence, started to turn their hungry stares towards him as he struggled even harder, looking for any salvation.

A light. Faint, in the darkness. He rushed towards it, the souls of the damned clawing at his cloak, the demons closing in with the force of an unstoppable tide. He felt as if he were on a treadmill, unable to go anywhere, stuck in one spot, pursuers closing in. He felt their hot, foul breath on his back, felt their horrible talons and teeth…

Then, nothing. He spun. Nothing. No pursuers. No demons. He fell to his knees, breath coming in gasps. After he caught his breath, he came to his feet and looked at his surroundings. He was still in the sea of souls. Still in this odd, horrible dimension. But, this part was different. A blinding, golden light shot up as if from nowhere, keeping the darkness and terror at bay. What? How? He walked forward, surroundings bare, the great golden light making sure that no demons tread here. As he walked, he felt...something.

A single voice, screaming through the void. A soul slit, in utter agony, bruised, beaten, but unbowed. Strange felt the voice, using his powers to attune himself to it. It had been in pain for...millennia now. Pain was a constant companion. But it would not give into the pain. Never.

Strange looked forward. The beam was being produced by something...no. Wrong. Someone. He shuddered involuntarily. The sheer power required to produce such a thing, let alone to sustain it… No wonder the voice was in pain. Strange looked around again. He had seen enough. Knew enough. Time to go back. He leapt up, leaving this place, still keeping the light in sight...

When suddenly a being of unfathomable power and incalculable malevolence turned it’s gaze towards him. He shied away from it. Now was not the time to trifle with such a thing.

Time, space, and reality warped around him. Every color, yet no color swirled. The being came into focus in front of him. It was ever-changing, morphing from one form to the next with no pretext. He hid his eyes. To stare at it would be to go mad. It studied him. Looked at him with amusement, like a child studying insects under a microscope. Then, it spoke. Its voice was the worst thing Strange had ever heard. Constantly changing, echoing like a nightmare into the void around him.

“The Anathema's pathetic light cannot protect you for long, sorcerer.” Strange winched, and shielded his face even more.

“What are you?” he asked in response. The being laughed. Strange screamed. The laugh echoed around him, promising the bending of time and reality as he knew them.

“Do not ask which creature screams in the night. Do not question who waits for you in the shadow. It is my cry that wakes you in the night, and my body that crouches in the shadow. I am Tzeetch, and you are the puppet that dances to my tune…” Strange pulled back. This was out of his league. He made a motion, and activated his one, final, failsafe. The locket around his neck opened, and a stone within glowed green. The being, Tzeetch, grimaced, hissed, and launched at the same time.

“Oh, ho! Your pathetic trinket cannot keep you safe for long. Every time you use your power, every time anyone bends the laws of nature to their own whims, I will be waiting. Know that I will be watching you and guiding your fate, mortal.” Strange said nothing. He could do nothing against such a being. “Now, go pack to where you came from.” With a great, ringing, clap, Strange opened his eyes. He found himself back in New York. His cloak let him down with a thud on the hardwood floor. He winced, then stood. A meeting had to be called. He just hoped superheroes would be enough to stop whatever came next.

[Author’s note: For the curious, Tzeetch is pronounced zeen-ch]

I hope you liked it. While I didn’t want to give you the names of any of the people in Strange’s visions, preferring instead for you to guess for yourselves, the line “I am Tzeentch and you are the puppet that dances to my tune” was just too good to pass up. I also do hope that you could follow at least some of my ramblings there, but, if you couldn’t, feel free to ask me any questions you may have, along with any comments, criticisms, requests, or concerns. Wherever you are, I hope you have a great day.

#writing #my writing #fiction #crossover #crossover story #ulitmate crossover #fanfic #magnificent scoundrels

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chancelloramidala · 4 years ago

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Across The Stars In A Galaxy Far Far Away ★ Star Wars & Marvel Crossover AU

ONE.

Tony didn’t know what else to expect when Peter called him at two in the morning. He wasn’t even asleep, just drinking coffee in his workshop and fiddling with a new project. Usually when Peter texted him it was about literally the smallest thing. And most the time, Tony didn’t mind it, he found it endearing that the kid wanted to update him on if he passed a test or not and the latest gossip going around school was.

But this time, it was a call, which was deviated from the usual. Calls were important, and Tony wasn’t prepared to talk about anything important. Was Peter going to talk about dating with him? Did he like someone at school? Did he have questions about the birds and the bees?

No. The answers to all of that was no.

Not even fucking close.

Peter was talking so fast that Tony thought the kid accidentally took some drugs and was hallucinating, but when the kid finally slowed down, that’s when Tony heard it.

“I think a space ship just crashed into Central Park, Mr. Stark!”

Tony spat out his coffee all over the steel table. “What?”

“I think a space ship just crashed-”

“Nope, I heard you kiddo,” Tony rubbed his temple feeling a migraine begin. “Promise me you didn’t take anything, nothing that looked like candy off the ground?”

“What? Why would I even... Oh my god, I think aliens are inside the ship!” there was some shuffling and Tony could only assume Peter was running to hide. “I hear something, yelling... clanking...”

Tony felt his face pale as he stepped away from the coffee ruined table and he held the phone closer to his ear. “Peter, whatever you do, don’t approach them. Wait till we get there.”

“”We”?”

“Yes we. Now stay put.”

“Wait! Don’t hang up!” Peter exclaimed as the voice call turned into a video one, “I think they’re trying to get out of their ship! Look!”

Peter turned the camera in his phone around to reveal what he was seeing to Tony.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Anakin helped Obi-Wan down the ramp with one arm loosely around his friend’s torso to keep him upright. “Well, at least we’re all in one piece.” He said as he sat Obi-Wan down next to Ahsoka who was being tended to by Padmé.

Padmé rolled her eyes as she applied a bacta patch on Ahsoka’s bruised back. “No doubt it’s thanks to your flying, Ani,” she sharply replied.

“Where are we anyway?” Ahsoka asked, carefully rolling her shoulders despite the aching pain.

“We’re too far away for our coms to get a signal out.” Rex said as he continued to tap at his com. “I can try again with the communication systems on board, but they looked fried beyond compare, sir.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to try again,” Anakin nodded his head at the Clone Captain before he turned around and went back onto the ship.

Obi-Wan patted Anakin’s arm before reaching up to run a hand through his auburn hair. “I didn’t recognize the star system before we crashed,”

“Artoo?” Anakin called out for his trusty astromech droid. In an instant, R2-D2 rolled down the ramp, beeping and chirping. “Can you get a read of the terrain and figure out what we’re dealing with?”

The Jedi Knight looked around at his surroundings, seeing that there were trees, grass and what seemed to be a water fountain nearby. Benches were scattered about and there was a cobble stone wall way a few feet away. If anything, the area they were in didn’t seem hostile at all.

“Will do,” he beeped as a part of his dome shed while his life-form scanned extended from the top. It turned and started to scan the surrounding area while the droids companions were given bacta patches from Padmé.

“I’m picking up someone in the tree over there!” warbled the droid as he moved side-to-side nervously and extended his utility arm to gesture to the tree he was talking about.

Anakin reached out into the Force, feeling that there was a Force-sensitive being in the tree. Then, with a raised arm, Anakin used the Force to apprehend the being and remove them from their hiding place. From what he could see, it was a small form, lean and of average height wearing some sort of blue and red suit with strange shaped eyes.

Peter Parker yelped as he was yanked out of the tree and dropped his phone on the ground, Mr. Stark’s voice fading away. Now he was just levitating in the air before the aliens he was stalking. “Oh my god, please don’t kill me!”

Padmé Amidala’s eyes widened as she heard the voice and jumped up from her spot next to Obi-Wan and tugged on Anakin’s arm, “Ani, he’s just a kid, put him down!”

“Oh,” Anakin deflated as he felt his face heat up. He carefully lowered the boy to the ground and sent him a sheepish grin. “Sorry ‘bout that,”

The teenage boy wanted to scream, he was so confused. “Uh... that’s okay, um, thanks for putting me down-”

Then a beautiful woman dressed in a maroon vest paired with tan pants and long-sleeve stepped forward. “Are you okay?” Even if Peter was absolutely baffled with what was going on and was on a verge of an anxiety attack, the soothing presence of this woman calmed him down a bit.

Peter made a small uncertain noise, “I don’t really... know,” he let out an awkward laugh before pulling off his mask, causing Padmé, Anakin, and Obi-Wan to see how young this boy was. Ahsoka was glad to see someone who looked around the same age as her. “I mean, how would you react if you saw a UFO crash in the middle of Central Park?”

Before anyone could answer that, (especially Anakin who wanted to say that he wasn’t an alien here and if anyone was an alien it would be Ahsoka), a voice was screaming from the ground.

“Peter? PETER?!”

“Shit,” Peter mumbled under his breath and then crouched down to pick up his phone that he dropped earlier. “Mr. Stark-!”

“Fucking HELL, kid! You can’t do that to me!” Tony Stark’s panic ridden face filled his screen, and from what Peter could see, he was wearing his Iron Man suit. “Where are the aliens? Whatever, we’re on our way.”

Peter raised a brow as another flare of confusion coursed through him. “Mr. Stark, I don’t really think that’s necessary-”

“Stay where you are. That’s an order!” Tony briskly ended the call.

Peter stared blankly at his phone with his mouth agape.

Rex then descended from the ship’s ramp and walked over to the group with his helmet in his hands. “Sir,” he said, briefly sparing a look at the boy they picked up.

“Yes, Rex?” Obi-Wan slowly rose from his spot on the rock and ignored the shoot of pain from his ribs. Anakin also turned his attention to his second-in-command, but could sense something was up and that it probably had to do with what he found.

“Um...” The Clone Captain looked torn, expressing this through standing up straighter and nervously gripping on his helmet. “There’s no record of this galaxy in our records.”

Anakin’s fists curled by his side. “What?”

Padmé frowned and turned her head towards Obi-Wan. “Is that even possible?”

Obi-Wan held a thoughtful expression on his face and gently stroked his auburn beard. “It wouldn’t be the first time a planet was wiped from the records. It happened to Kamino before the War started.”

Ahsoka turned away from the adults and let them talk among themselves, feeling that her input wouldn’t add anything. So she turned her attention to the human boy across from her. He looked severely conflicted by how furrowed his eyebrows where and how he kept nibbling on his lower lip. Not only the physical signs of conflict being completely evident in him, but she could feel the emotional strings of his mind reach out to her.

He’s Force-Sensitive? She asked herself and then cautiously approached him, curiosity swirling inside of her. “Hey, are you okay?”

Peter shrugged and ran a hand through his brown hair. “This was not how I was expecting my night to go, that’s all.”

The Togruta almost laughed, the exact thought crossing her mind. “I get that, name’s Ahsoka by the way.”

“I’m Peter, hi Ahsoka.” he offered her a half-hearted smile, one that she returned.

A shadow of something flew overhead, accompanied by what Ahsoka could only assume was a jet pack. Her hand instantly fell onto her lightsabers by her hip, turning her head in the direction of her Master. Bright lights then shined brightly, causing Ahsoka to raise a hand to block it from blinding her as five silhouettes appeared from the source of the light.

“Stay where you are,” a modulated voice said and stepped forward, revealing a red and golden droid aka the source of the lights that came from its palms. “Give us the kid and we can do things without ruining Central Park.”

"I don’t think this hostility is necessary,” Padmé started her cordial senator mask falling onto her easily, putting her hands up to show that she meant no harm. “Our ship crashed while we escaping an ambush set up by Separatist sympathizers. We will be more than willing to explain everything to you, but please, we need medical assistance and a place to repair our ship.” she carefully explained, staring at the droid and discerning that the make and model wasn’t Separatist grade.

Tony Stark turned his head to the side to one of the silhouettes but kept his hands raised just in case. “What do you think, Cap? Do you believe their story?”

Steve Rogers scanned the group before them. One of the men was holding his side, while another looked like he was going to pass out because of pure exhaustion. Three of the five individuals had slim silver cylinders on their belt, as for the other two had guns he has never seen before. If anything, they looked bruised and tired, and didn’t seem hostile.

“I do believe them,”

Tony made a small disgruntled noise but then lowered his arms to his side. “Fine,” he eyed them warily and scanned the group with his sensors, seeing that four of them were humans while one was indeed an alien species. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., bring in the cavalry to get their space bucket out of here,”

Obi-Wan staggered in his footing, causing Rex, who was the closest to him, to hold him steady. “Careful there, sir,”

“I’m fine,”

“Nope, you’re a liar,” Tony scoffed as he did a full scan on this bearded guy. “You’ve got a concussion and two broken ribs if my medical sensors are right, which they usually are..”

“Obi-Wan! You said it was nothing,” Anakin scolded his former mentor.

“And it is!”

“Alright, tough guy,” Natasha Romanoff rolled her eyes as she walked over. “Let’s get you to someone who can make sure of that, hm?”

Clint and Natasha helped round everyone into one of the black SVU’s parked along the side walk while R2-D2 hurriedly rolled behind them and beeped incessantly.

“What the kriff is going on?” he asked.

“I’ve got no clue, Artooie,” Ahsoka patted his metal dome with her gloved hand.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” the droid beeped nervously before hoisting himself inside the strange looking speeder.

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dokifluffs · 4 years ago

Text

Milk Bread | Oikawa Tōru

Pairing: Oikawa X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: sweet milk bread fluff

Request: “Can I request baking milk bread with Oikawa” - @tsumtsumsemi

Author’s Note: Ofc! Thank you for requesting, love 🥰🥰 This was v cute to write and it made me crave milk bread 😋

The two of you were own a mission and it was about time the two of you did this- it was time to make some milk bread

TooRu OiKaWa’s fAvorIte FOod iS mILk BreAD (watch this hehe if you want)

The grocery store was pretty empty since it was early in the afternoon, partially sunny, partially cloudy. Today was his rest day and there was no better way than to make one of his favorites

He was practically heart broken when he went to the convenience store to get some after practice last evening with Iwaizumi, only to find they were sold out for the night

His eyes practically glowed when you suggested to make some and his heart grew double in size when you admitted you planned to make some for awhile now as a little surprise

He wore black joggers with simple sneakers and a light green shirt with a little motif on the left side that said “aliens believe in us” with little embroidery around it

Whereas you wore one of his stolen shirts, his E.T. movie one that covered right over your bottom since it was pretty oversized on him too and shorts with slip on shoes

He pushed the cart behind, following your figure as you went between aisles, looking at the signs to find said aisles. He took pictures of you from behind whenever he thought you looked cute- so almost always- that is until you found him and you instinctively held your hand up beside your face, getting some whines from him

He also recorded you struggling to get something form the taller shelves. You weren’t too short yourself but it was just out of reach you know he sent this video to iwa and iwa called him shittykawa

After some glances from you and the name calling from iwa, he felt attacked he came over from his spot behind the cart and grabbed the ingredient you were trying to reach with ease, of course giving you a little smug smirk, just a little one

When the two of you walked side by side each other through the store, he would occasionally bump his hip into yours, having some fun

He was very excited for today since it meant time with you and milk bread

Luckily, there weren’t too many things to get so the trip was short, but you also picked up little treats that the two of you could also enjoy while making bread

The trip home was nice as the two of you walked side by side to his place, each holding a bag

He talked about recent practices and matches that was played, the antics in practices but also as well as up coming games

But conversations with him always strayed- topics always changed frequently and looking back, you never knew how the topics transitioned. It just happened

Like last time with Iwaizumi, it went from Godzilla to diapers and the three of you all talked as if it was normal, which it really was at this point

You also made sure to ask him if he was resting his knee enough as you glanced down seeing the brace folds barely showing through the pants of his joggers

But sometimes you knew he wouldn’t tell you the truth entirely. You had to ask Iwaizumi to stop him or to let you know if he was over doing it

But recently he had thankfully. You didn’t want him to worsen his knee if he wanted to bring his team to nationals

Arriving at his place, it was time to get right to work. You brought out all the ingredients, pulling up the recipe on his laptop with a random documentary on space playing on another window as he brought out all the pans and utensils you could need

He did some steps ahead of you like combine the wet ingredients while you prepared the dry ingredients in another bowl and then the two of you got together and mixed the ingredients together

So far, things were looking pretty good

Fortunately, there was literally no physical energy that either of you needed to put into making this. For the dough, he borrowed his mother’s stand mixer and it did all the labor for you two

While waiting for it to knead, you stood beside it, looking into the large metal bowl as he sat beside you, immersed in the documentary, commenting about how mind blowing our entire universe was

As nerdy or geeky as it sounded to others, you could honestly listen to him ramble on and on about space and universe or volleyball or anything really

He told you about his past relationships sort of in the beginning in the relationship and at this point after being together for so long, you figured the past s/o just didn’t match his wavelength when it came to what he was really passionate about

You pulled the dough out as it said in the directions and shaped it into a ball, setting it into another bowl

You had to stop oikawa from poking it and ruining the perfect shape as you went to get a rag to cover the bowl with

But of course when you returned, there was two finger indentations

And now it was time for the waiting game for the next 40-60 minutes

In the mean time, you meant to bring Oikawa to the living room where it was more comfortable to watch but he ended up pulling you in between his legs, holding your hands loosely sat in your lap while the two of you watched the documentary

Time passed a lot faster than the two of you realized. Oikawa was the first to notice the dough in the bowl after he peeked under the rag, surprised to see it doubled in size

This time, he wanted to do the next steps so you guided him, kneading the dough and cutting it, shaping it into two balls and letting it rise again for another fifteen minutes

He couldn’t wait to stick these into the oven. He preheated it before he returned to joining you in generously buttering a pan that the loaf would sit in

After following even more steps, the two of you set the logs of dough each of you made, he did his best to mimic your actions and laid them side by side into the buttered pan

And finally it was the third to last waiting game the two of you would have to patiently play through but no worries, this just meant more sitting in oikawa’s lap, his chest to your back, his chin on your shoulder while watching another documentary when the space one ended

He savored this feeling of having you in his arms. The way your fingers danced along his arm tickling his skin, just how close you were to him right now- it felt so nice

After about another roughly 30-40 minutes, he stuck the pan with the doughs into the oven and set a timer for 35 minutes for now but you two would check it to see if you two should wait longer or not

As the loafs baked, the rich scent of the milk bread wafted through his house

He gave you a squeeze in his grasp as he took a deep breath in, taking in the smell of the bread that was so close yet so far away

When the timer went off, he could practically taste it already and very fortunately, it was perfectly golden brown

For the last bit, all you two had to do was wait for it to cool down for about ten minutes

For Oikawa, this literally felt like the longest minutes passing in his life

He just wanted to cut into the plush bread and eat it. It smelled so good and it looked so golden to him. You could hear his head turning back and forth between his laptop and the bread on the counter beside the oven

He was so antsy and you could literally feel it, so to set him free of his waiting, you made your way over to the loaf with him, of course, close behind, peering over your shoulder

His eyes shined brighter than any Christmas lights you’ve seen when you said that you two should probably try it while it’s still pretty warm

He literally said say less

He made a little video of you cutting into the load, the steam rising from the hot bread, his mouth watering just a bit

He sent the video to iwa, who told him to give him some but of course Oikawa refused. This was special for him since it was made by the two of you

If he could, he would preserve this bread for as long as he could til the end of his life. It was one of the best things he had in his life, just like you

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Note: I based the steps from this: NYT Japanese Milk Bread, so my apologies if it is inaccurate, I just followed this

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046 @mazey-chan @sunboikyo00 @kara-grayson04 @fortheloveofbakugo

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passivenovember · 4 years ago

Text

Cinnamon.

Dawn's got a boyfriend.

A stupid, dorky, lanky boyfriend who decorates his nails and pairs platform jelly crocs with unbelievably tight jeans.

Dawn paints things on the pockets.

The ass pockets, much to Billy's sniveling, sneering disapproval. Little pictures of toaster ovens and broken light bulbs, industrial and punk and.

Perfect.

Weird.

Just like her.

Billy doesn't understand what she see's in the guy.

His family moves in the summer before sophomore year and everything changes. Billy's got a fourth blanket in the hamper next to Dawns for movie night, all of a sudden, and he's being dragged to double dates with the kid's freaky artistic parents. Steve's inviting them to dinner because I like them, Bills.

Then the boy's sleeping over in their living room.

Every weekend.

Probably kissing Billy's fifteen year old daughter at three in the morning and eating Billy's favorite pop tarts, just.

All of a sudden.

Out of nowhere, like. An alien invasion gone horribly, terribly wrong.

Billy feels like he should've seen it coming.

It's Friday night. The first in years that's just them, just.

Steve and Billy and Dawn.

Cooking after a shit week. Cracking jokes and dancing around the kitchen to Joy Division. The first Friday in months without the boy and his golden-retriever ass blocking access to the record player. Doing nothing. Eating cherry tomatoes and laughing too loudly at everything Billy says.

It's just them.

The three musketeers.

Billy's over the moon excited to spend it with his husband. Burning their vegan lasagna and sneaking kisses on the couch while Dawn tells them to knock it off. Watching horror films, bickering over what flavor of ice cream to have delivered, and.

Hugging Steve and Dawn to his chest when the nightmares come.

Billy knows, alright, he.

Feels it.

There aren't too many of these left.

He'll take what he can get.

So it's Friday night and Dawn isn't in her movie night onesie, she's.

Tromping around the house in the docs Billy got her for Christmas last year. Still wearing her knock-off Susie Sioux war paint and homemade skirt, the one that's covered in functional patches. Billy smiles, flooded with warmth, when he sees the newest addition tacked right above the tear in her knee.

A butterfly. The one they painted together.

"Nice," He says, chopping up cucumbers for the salad. "'S a little girly, though. Fuck Nazi's should come next if balance is to be restored."

"I think we should save that one. Stick it somewhere special, on something that'll last." Dawn meanders slowly around the kitchen. Running her fingertips along the cutting board, kissing Steve on the cheek and kicking Billy on the shin. Her usual form of hello.

Billy rifles through what he knows of her wardrobe. "You only have special shit. Staple pieces."

"True, but something, like." Dawn sneaks a slice of cucumber, crunching loudly next to Billy's ear. "Super special. A jacket, perhaps."

Steve coos like a bird, suddenly checked into the conversation. "A leather one?"

Dawn shakes her head. "Nah, something lighter."

Steve grins, clapping his oven mitts together. "Staples, leather, can't blame a guy for trying."

"Something more versatile." Dawn tries. "Light blue. Loved and lost by generations of Hargrove's before me."

Billy empties his cucumber slices into a bowl, not liking where this is headed.

Dawn wraps her arm around his shoulders.

"Of the denim variety?"

Billy shrugs her arm away, moving to put the casserole in the oven because. Steve does pottery for a living but he's still scared of the oven.

Dawn follows closely behind. "Just picture it. A gorgeous, vintage denim jacket covered in studs."

Billy sighs. "Metal Heads don't need all that shit to feel cool."

But Dawn just keeps talking. "And a patch of the most excellent quality tacked right above something artistic, like. A lipstick smear--

"You're not getting my jacket." Billy concludes, doing his best to put some bass in it.

Assert some of that dominance he was known for in high school, but.

It doesn't work.

Dawn waggles her eyebrows because once you let a little girl paint your toenails she stops being afraid of you. "It could be a love letter." She says. "A little 'kiss my ass,' to every skinhead in Hawkins."

Steve makes a noise from his place on the counter, checking in once more. "Since when are there skinheads in Hawkins?"

"Since always." Billy says to his husband. And then, to his daughter; "The jacket is written into our will."

She snorts. "Are you serious?"

Before Billy can say anything, snarky or otherwise, the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it," Dawn says, voice going high and airy in the way it only does when--

"Does Peter like casserole?"

Billy wishes Steve had a single rude bone in his body.

Dawn's cheeks go bright red. "Who said Peter's here?"

And then she's gone. Opening the front door and greeting him.

Peter.

Like he's the second coming or some shit.

"Oh, maybe because he's always here." Billy grumbles. "Eating my poptarts and forgetting to put more toilet paper in the bathroom--"

"Bills." Steve says.

"What? Just stating facts."

"Thought you wanted her to make friends her own age?" Steve says easily, planting a delicate, sweet kiss on the curve of Billy's neck.

Down the hall things are quiet.

Too quiet.

"Peter isn't a friend, he's a goddamn turd." Billy scrubs roughly at the counter top, trying to work out a seven year old Kool-Aid stain. "Flirty little turd trying to flirt with our kid, That's what--"

"Dawn and Peter don't flirt."

And Billy wishes Steve had a single thought in his pretty little head.

Billy throws the towel down on the countertop, hands on hips. "Are you fuckin' serious?"

But before Steve can say anything Turd Boy is rounding the corner in a denim vest and a flowery skirt, a giggling Dawn stumbling over the floor behind him. Since Billy saw him last, Peter's nose grew a ring of metal and his hair has turned pink.

Bright pink.

Pastel pink, clashing and melding with a shirt Billy remembers from Dawn's fifth grade yearbook.

Kid looks cool.

Really gnarly, like Sid Vicious and David Bowie rolled into one, and Billy instantly hates it when Dawn says that they're going to a fucking football game.

Billy puts on his dad hat.

The responsible one that makes him feel like a dweeb, and asks all the right questions. Who will be there, when are they coming home, does she need money or a pair of brass knuckles to intimidate the skinheads--

Steve asks if he should get a head start on the pillow fort, and.

Peter laughs.

Dawn holds out her hand, like, "That might be cool."

Billy tenses when Steve's arms find his waist. "The knuckles or the fort?"

She thinks about it. Then; "Both."

So Billy digs around for his wallet. And hands over his pocket-knuckles. And tries not to vomit when Dawn makes big, disgusting goo-goo eyes at the boyfriend that could, all things considered, be a lot fucking worse.

Steve tells them to call if they need anything and Peter promises to look have Dawn home by ten thirty. Swears to look out for her and use the knuckles if he's gotta, so.

Billy believes the kid.

Hates him because he has to, believes him because Steve does.

And then they're gone.

Billy stares after them long after the front door has slammed shut, trying not to feel disappointed that they'll be empty nesters until their kids stumble home from a night of normalcy.

Steve hasn't said a word.

"Guess it's just us, tonight," Billy whispers to the front door. Steve kisses the back of his neck. "I found some rolling papers in Dawn's room if you wanna--"

"Should we be letting her date?"

Which.

"Since when have we let Dawn do anything?"

#harringrove #harringrove april #day four #butterflies #I like how every prompt is just me mentioning the topic once #like #blink and you'll miss it honey #lmao #i love dawn

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jackdoe · 4 years ago

Text

The Trial of Hordak

She-Ra and The Princesses of Power fan short story

Spoilers for She-Ra season 5

----

The Throne room of Brightmoon Castle had been a venue for many exciting things, but never before had it buzzed with activity as it did today.

Representatives from all across the many nations of Ethiria had packed themselves into the gallery of the wide chamber. What few journalists existed since the war ended fought their way through the throng of onlookers to try and catch a glimpse of the proceedings.

They were calling it the Trial of the Century, but in all truth, it was more like the trial of the Millennia.

There, in the center of the grand walkway, facing Queen Glimmers throne, was Hordak. Bound by the hands and feet with chains. Eyes forward, resolute, expressionless.

Whispers echoed through the chamber. Many had never seen him in person, some doubted if he was even real or an illusion. There were many clones left stranded on the planet, they could have dressed anyone of them up, or perhaps it was a shapeshifter, they’re well known to the people of Etheria.

It couldn’t be THE Hordak, here, in Brightmoon, on trial. He was too mythic to nebulous, to dark, more an idea than a person. To capture Hordak would be like capturing the Devil Himself.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Silence fell in an instant as Queen Glimmer rang her scepter on the floor. She sat on her throne, as judge. She was young, but her eyes were sharp as they looked across the crowd. None disturbed the quiet.

At her side was the King Regent, Micha. He stood today as prosecution, and his steely glance rivaled that of his daughter. A rumor had spread to the general public that he had survived Beast Island for a decade, or more. If the crowd was in further disbelief, they did not voice it. All were silently awaiting the queen's words.

“This Court is now in session” Queen Glimmer proclaimed. Her voice was soft, but it might as well have been a lion's roar by the way it rang through the hall.

“We gather here today, recognize the many crimes of Lord Hordak, and decide punishment for them. Regent Micha, you may bring forth the charges.”

King Micha bowed deeply “Thank you, Your Majesty” And he began to descend the golden steps of the throne and make his way to the accused, who stood still and expressionless as ever.

The King stopped just ten paces from Hordak’s feet, and for a moment stared the alien monster down. The entire room held its breath, almost waiting for one of them to blink first. But neither did.

He then turned to address the whole room, as much as he did Hordak.

“People of Etheria, you know this man. For 30 years, he and his influence has terrorized and scarred our world. He has killed our people, and left many lands, to this day, divided and distrustful of each other. There is no count to the lives he’s ruined.”

The only sound heard was the slight scratch of the pen. Bow, the queen's closest friend, sat at a small desk off to the side of the throne, taking down the record of the trial.

“But today,” King Micha continued, “We will seek recompense for those lives, for this planet. But we people of Etheria are not without mercy or justice. We will give the accused a chance to own his crimes, and perhaps his spirit of contrition will make lenient the Queen’s Justice.”

Micha then closed the distance to Hordak. He stood at least a head shorter than the once Lord, but he was no less fearless. The people watched again in amazement as neither blinked.

“For the record,” Micha started, “State your name.”

“Hordak.”

If the queen's voice had created silence, Hordak’s created a vacuum. A palpable tension moved across the people as they came to realize, this was in fact he. The King in Black. The Lord of Fright. The monster in their dreams.

“Hordak,” Micha continued “Is it true, that you invaded Eritrea, a world that had done you no malice, with the intent of conquering it in the name of your creator, Horde Prime.”

“It is.”

The people looked to Hordak. His eyes never faltered from staring forward.

“Is it true that you raised every city, ever village, every home, to the ground in your wake of conquest. Never once leaving anything spared?”

“It is.”

“Is it true that you took the children of the people you killed, and raised them to be your soldiers. To fight their own people, in your name?”

“��It is.”

“Murderer!” Came a voice from the crowd, which subsequently began to erupt in talk, mostly parroting the sentiment.

Hordak did not turn to look, his eyes never faltered. He let it wash over him.

It was deserved.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“There will be order in this court!” came Glimmer's voice over the storm of people. Again, they fell silent.

“Proceed.” Glimmer said to her father, who bowed again in acknowledgement.

“So,” Micha turned again to the defendant, “You acknowledge your actions. There is no need to present evidence, the evidence is all around us, there is not a person in the court today that you haven’t wronged. What have you to say to them? Have you any explanation for these transgressions? Any reason for what you’ve done?”

Hordak’s eyes flashed for a moment to Micha’s, causing those close enough to quietly gasp. Those who had still held out hope that this was some elaborate Hordak puppet.

He held his gaze on the King Regent for a long moment before speaking.

“When I was… created, I knew only the conquest and glory of Horde Prime. My very mind had been imprinted on, that to be ruled by Horde Prime, was what the masses needed, for the greater good.”

“That Prime was a soul light in a dark universe.”

“Our lives were made better, whole worlds were made better when they submitted to his will. This occupied my every thought.” Hordak’s eyes then slowly fell.”I would be better.”

“Your world I invaded, because every part of my being told me you would be better for his rule. Your homes I burned, because every thought I had was to make way for him to build anew. Your…”

For the first time, Hordak faltered, his brow furrowed in almost a pained expression, “Your children, I brought in to the fold of the Horde, for I believed there was no better place for them, then in the service of Horde Prime.”

Micha looked at Hordak for a long moment, then began to pace around him.

“So, you say you were created, and programmed with this behavior?”

“I was,” Hordak responded, now fully looking at the floor.

“Like some machine? You were simply following a predetermined set of orders given to you as soon as you were ‘born’?”

Hordak said nothing.

The people again became restless at this.

Micha made sweeping gestures to the people “You’re telling this court that your actions were not your own?”

“No.” Hordak said finally.

This time, it was he that silenced the court.

“My actions were my own.” He said, evenly.

Glimmer raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing.

“Then you take full responsibility for all these crimes?” asked King Micha.

Hordak’s eyes raised and stared forward again. “I do”

“…And you realize that the punishment for them may very well be death?” The King asked, this time in a sterner tone.

All was silence in the court, even the pen of the record keeper.

“I do.” Hordak finally said.

He then met Queen Gilmmers eye. “ I have lived as a slave, where my value, my very existence has hinged on the word of another. But here, I had a name, and had…”he paused, looking down again, “I was a person. I would rather die a wicked man, then live as an empty puppet.”

There were no words this time. The entire room shared a moment of silence. Many stared in disbelief of what the once Lord had said.

Finally Queen Glimmer stood up from her throne, and all eyes were on her.

“Hordak, you accept your crimes and the punishment for them? Whatever that may be?”

Now Hordak and Glimmer were staring each other down. The young queen's gaze did not have the aged steeliness that her fathers did, but there was a fire behind her eyes. One, not necessarily of hate, but of righteous fury.

“I do”

“And do you regret any of them?”

And Hordak blinked first. “I do.”

His eyes lowered again,” This world was more of a home to me then Prime ever was. Here I was free, I was…”

He looked to the gallery above, to one particular face.

She hadn’t made a noise the whole time, The Princess from Dryl, Entrapta, her insectoid welding mask had been down since she entered the room, long before the trial had started. It concealed any expression she might have, but just at the edge of vision, two clear streams of tears were traveling down from the mask.

Hordak smiled faintly, but it was not a cold monster's smile, like the people would expect, but a warm gentle smile.

“I was in love, here.” Entrapta flipped her mask up to reveal a face red from quiet sobbing. Her eyes were fixated on Hordak’s. To the people’s credit, they made no comment.

Hordak’s expression turned to pain as he looked down, his posture lowering. “And I squandered it, abused it. I… I found my heaven, and I destroyed it. Therefore I don’t deserve to be here.”

Hordak’s eyes met the queens again. She looked at the alien for a moment longer, her expression unreadable.

“Very well.“ She turned to sit back down. “Then I have heard enough. I am ready to make my judgment.”

The court again erupted into whispers that were quickly silenced yet again by the slam of Glimmers scepter.

The fire returned to Glimmers eyes again as she looked down at the criminal. In that moment, those that knew her no longer saw ‘Glimmer’, they saw ‘The Queen’, handing down her justice.

“Hordak. You have hurt so many lives,” The Queen began,”you have wounded the planet, taken our homes and our… loved ones from us. These crimes can not go unpunished.”

There was a general murmuring of agreement from the gallery.

“It is easy to say that you are a monster,” she continued, “Passing on nothing but destruction. That you will never be anything else.”

Hordak closed his eyes.

“It is easy to say, but it is not truthful”

Hordak looked back to The Queen, bemused.

“I have seen people's capacity to change. If they desire it. I have seen your kind’s capacity for good.”

Hordak was surprised at this. Many had heard the story of the rogue Horde clone that had aided the rebellion. Most hadn’t believed it was true.

The murmuring grew again, but was quickly dispatched by the continuing speech of The Queen.

“As such, as Queen of Brightmoon, and with the full authority of The Princess Alliance, I sentence you Hordak to be banished.”

Hordak rose to his full height again. He blinked, as if to shake away a dream, or whatever strange illusion he was experiencing.

The people gasped and whispered to each other in incredulity. In the gallery, Princess Entrapta had wiped her eyes and was beginning to vibrate with joy but was quickly quelled by a close friend, Princess Mermista.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

All was quiet in the courtroom again.

“You will be banished, from Etheria and her Moons. You will be given a ship, supplies and whatever personal effects you wish to take with you, and you will leave Etheria behind.”

The Queen leaned forward “If you cause war in Heaven, you will be thrown from it.”

“And never shall you set foot on this world again,” The Queen continued, leaning back “Till there may come a time when the People of Etheria can forgive your crimes. That is my Judgment.”

The Queen rang her scepter against the floor one last time, and the court was adjourned.

As expected, the room erupted into hushed conversation, and the scribbling of journalists.

Two guards grabbed a bewilder looking Hordak by each arm and began to lead him away to his holding cell (I.E. The guest bedroom) with Micha in tow, acting as both Bailiff and Prosecutor for this trial.

People began to mill about the throne room, discussing the proceedings, no doubt voicing their own opinions on it, both for, and against.

The Queen sighed, and Glimmer reemerged, a pained exhausted look on her face.

“Man, how did mom do that all the time?” She said to herself. It was enough just to hand down the sentence, but having to do it for an audience, and maintain composure the entire time? What was Angela drinking to make her cooler than a cucumber? And where could Glimmer get some?

“Not the verdict people were hoping for, I think.” Came a voice from right above Glimmer’s head.

“The verdict was guilty, which is, in fact, what everyone was hoping for. It’s the sentence that has people reeling. You know you can get in a lot of trouble for being up here with me, Catra?”

The air shimmered for a moment at the top of the throne and a young woman emerged from thin air, the shadow of an alien cat stalking away.

Catra had been perched atop the golden throne. The guards flanking them quickly readied their spears but were waved away by Glimmer as quickly as they did.

“True, I was expecting a hanging, or at least 100 years of hard labor. But now he gets to sail off into the sunset like a… uh, sailor.”

“Yeah well, I thought about it, and I mean I REALLY thought about it. But at the end of the day, everything I’ve seen. Everything I’ve learned, about where he comes from. I just can’t…”

“Find it in you to hate him anymore?” offered Catra.

“Watching someone have their mind erased can really humanize them.”

Catra shook her head, “Tisk, tisk, tisk, a year into the job and already you’re going soft.”

“Are you questioning the Queens Justice?”

Catra hopped from the top of the throne and landed gracefully at the foot of its steps, instantly shifting into an exaggerated bow, “Oh of course not, your majesty. What the queen says is law! Like last week when you said there were 10 moons, when actually there are twe-”

“Ok, I get the point.” Glimmer said getting up from her throne and making her way down.

Bow approached as well, rolling up the court record into the shaft of an arrow and putting it in his quiver. “I thought you would be all for bad guys getting a second chance?”

“Hey, I am, and I wasn’t bad, I was just, um.” Carta waved vaguely “Emotionally distraught and morally complex.”

“Ah-huh,” Bow said, and just after Glimmer sneezed in a way that sounded eerily similar to someone saying ‘bullshit’.

“Hey, your lucky Adora came to bat for you otherwise we were gonna have to put you on trial too.” Bow looked a little more serious now.

“Yeah, I know.” Catra, looked away, embarrassed. She had made great strides the the recent months, worked really hard to make amends for all she's done, and to the people she had hurt, but the facts still remain, she had been a key player in Hordak’s army, leading several attacks.

There were certainly people that wanted to see Catra on the chopping block.

But Adora had intervened. She volunteered to be Catra’s warden, to rehabilitate her. No one would question a request from She-Ra, and if the Hero of Legends wanted to take a criminal under her wing to teach her the error of her ways, who were they to stop her?

‘Warden’ thought Glimmer ‘That sure is a fancy word for ‘girlfriend’’ she thought sarcastically.

“I guess it pays to be the one macking on She-Ra” Bow said, poked at Catra’s shoulder, teasingly

Catra’s ears began to turn red, and lucky she had fur so her red cheeks were hidden.

“That’s right!” Glimmer added on “Catra gets special treatment. And, if she’s lucky, she gets ‘Special Treatment’ twice a night.”

“You guys suck!” Catra said finally.

“Listen Catra, we can move past the whole enemy thing as long as you keep working on it and showing us you’re really making an effort to change.”

Bow patted her on the back “But you and Adora? We’re gonna tease you about that for a while.”

Catra was now visibly embarrassed, but she couldn’t hide her smile either. “Yeah, yeah.”

“It was actually Entrapta that begged me to consider the banishment option.” Glimmer said, mercifully changing the subject.

“Really?” Bow said. Catra’s ears perked up at this.

Glimmered sighed “Yeah, she was outside my window all last night, and the night before, listing all of the reasons why Hordak shouldn’t be put to death. She had the list alphabetized and sorted by category.”

“Long list?” said Catra.

“It’s Entrapta, what do you think?”

“That makes me wanna ask,” Bow began, his eyes narrowing,” Are Entrapta and Hordak… You know,” He bumped both of his hands together, “A thing?”

Catra’s face split into a wide, toothy, grin. The kind of grin only a felinoid could make.

“OH! Man!” she began “Let me tell you! They are so a thing!”

Bow’s eyes widened in horror and Glimmers brow furrowed in bewilderment.

“But, like…but, like… but, like, really!?” Glimmer asked.

“Oh yeah. When she was in the Horde, she would be the only one allowed in his lab. They would talk to each other for hours. One time I saw her sitting in his lap. They were just talking about just tech and stuff, but she was sitting on his lap and he was, like, really looking intensely into her eyes. And…”

“Ok!” said Bow, “I don’t actually need to hear this. I’m gonna go and put this court record into the archives now. I’ll see you guys later.” Bow then sped off, trying to conceal his shocked expression.

Catra and Glimmer watched him flee the conversation, the former giggling to herself. The latter was still a little confused.

“But, like… Really?” said Glimmer

“Yes.” said Catra.

“Glimmer!” said Entrapta, bounding directly into the queen, who had to once again wave away advancing guards.

“You didn’t sentence Hordak to death! I knew you’d see, he’s can be better, he just needs to put all that planet conquering business behind him, and get a new hobby, like Space Exploration!” The older woman said, practically hopping up and down.

Catra still remembered how dumbstruck she was when she found out that Enrapta was more than ten years her elder. It wasn’t just her youthful energy, it was the fact that she was so short which threw Catra off.

“Well Entrapta, you made a pretty good case.” said Glimmer, “A very long, long, but good case.”

“Hey, you saved a life today, Entrapta.” Said Catra, “You should be proud of that!”

“I am!” Said Entrapta, excitement elevating her into the air on her hair. Then she lowered down and had a serious expression on her face. “And speaking of life.”

Entrapta started fidgeting with her hands. “I think… I think I’m gonna go with him.”

She pulled her mask down to cover the blush forming on her face.

Glimmer’s eyes widened and so did Catra’s grin.

“You want to go with Hordak?” asked Glimmer in disbelief.

“Yeah!” Entrapta flipped her helmet backup and her face was back to its natural excitement. She began to raise herself up to her hairs full length, her arms spread wide. “I had my first taste of space travel and now I’m hooked! I wanna see it all, out there. Explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new civilizations, boldly go where no one has gone before!”

She marveled at the thought of space, then noticed the two girls staring at her and composed herself. “Plus, I could be Hordak’s warden, like Adora is for Catra. My records clean as a whistle!”

“Hey, you’ve committed some war crimes too you know!” said Catra, as if it was a normal thing to say.

“Prisoner of war, can’t be tried for anything I did, under coercion.”

“What about your kingdom?” asked Glimmer.

“There’s only three people there, the rest are robots. The people can have my castle.”

“You weren’t being coerced, you willingly helped out Hordak the second he mentioned tech.” Catra added.

“Can you prove that in a court of law?”

“Ugh. I don’t wanna go through another trial.” Said Glimmer. “Entrapta, you’re pardoned.” As she maid a sign in the air “ZimZim Zalabim, you’re pardoned, go have fun in space!”

“Yay!” Entrapta’s expression then softened, and she began to tear up a bit. Her fidgeting started again and she looked away to wipe a tear from her eye, a smile on her face the whole time.

“I’m gonna miss you guys.” She said quietly.

Glimmer’s and Catra’s eyes widened and they exchanged a glance before closing the distance to Entrapta and putting their hands on her shoulders.

“Hey, we’ll miss you too.” said Catra.

“Yeah, and you’re not banished, you can come to visit anytime.” said Glimmer softly. But then her face hardened. ”But Hordak has to stay on the ship. He can’t set foot on this planet at all!”

Entrapta chuckled, “That can be done!” and she and Glimmer exchanged a nice long hug. Entrapta was still wiping her tears a bit when she pulled away and Glimmer smiled back at her.

“By the way. You and Hordak?” Glimmer began, clumsily.

“Hum? What about him?” Entrapta replied with genuine curiosity.

“Are you and he... I’m not sure how to say this… A Thing?” asked Glimmer.

“A…Thing?”

Glimmer nodded.

“A thing?” Entrapta pondered this, an expression on her face like she’d just been asked what the very secrets of the universe are.

“OOOOOOOOHH, a thing!” she said finally “You know, we…” Entrapta trailed of in to giggling, her face turning a bit red as she did. Then almost instantly she was composed again, as composed as she usually is, at least.

“Oh you know, that might be inappropriate to talk about with young people like yourselves. Anyway I gotta get home and start packing. Gotta get all my good experiments together for testing in zero g! Bye guys.”

And with that, Glimmer and Catra watched Entrapta slink away, walking on her hair, Glimmer’s eyes wide, Catra’s grin wider.

A moment passed between the two before one turned to the other.

“Oh, they fuckin.” said Glimmer.

“OH, THEY FUCKIN!” said Catra, considerably louder.

--------

(edit for some spelling errors)

(Thank you for reading, and a special thank you if you enjoyed it. Tried posting it to ao3 but their account creation process is very difficult.)

#She Ra #she-ra and the princesses of power #She ra and the princesses of power #she-ra #Hordak #Glimmer #Micha #bow #Entrapta #Catra #catadora #catradora #entrapdak #season 5 spoilers #season 6 light #fan fiction

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Good Omens - I Was Given Four Rules to Follow ... I Broke Every One: Chapter 3/3 (Rated PG13)

Summary: When Warlock Dowling is summoned to the old South Downs cottage of Aziraphale and Crowley to help clean out their attic, presumably after their deaths, he is given four rules to follow.

... He breaks every single one.

Read on AO3.

January 15th –

He opened his eyes!

He opened his eyes and looked at me!

After hours of waiting in the dark and in the cold, despairing every second and wishing I was dead myself, he opened his eyes.

But it came close to being all for naught because I almost died myself right then and there.

It was good to see him with his eyes wide open, but the golden eyes I loved so much are gone.

These new eyes are white on white, the pupils infinitely dark, the irises torn. They stare without blinking. They look into me, into my soul, it seems. They connect to the love that runs deep within me, to every touch he has ever left on my skin, to every promise we both made.

But they do not recognize me.

Am I, at all, familiar to him?

I don’t want to reject him, whether he knows me or not. But those eyes unnerve me.

There’s so much about them that’s innocent and frightened.

So much about them that’s desolate and dead.

We literally spent the morning just looking at one another.

I would give anything to know what’s going on in his mind.

What does he see when he looks at me?

I want to reach out and touch him, but I’m afraid. I know it won’t be the same. He won’t be warm, won't be comforting. What could be worse than a dead copy of a once alive and loving creature? I don’t know.

But whatever this is, it might be.

He won’t smell like Crowley. He won’t have his cheek, won't have his soothing voice. It’s almost as if I adopted some wild animal and decided to make it my husband.

What have I done?

***

January 16th –

All day long, he tried to move, grunting with the effort of struggling to stand up and get out of bed. He didn’t speak words; he just groaned. I wanted to help him. I wanted to pretend that he was simply convalescing after a horrible illness. I wanted to bathe him and dress him. I wanted to sit him down in front of the television, prop up his feet, and feed him brandy and ice-cream. I wanted to put this chapter behind us and get on with our lives.

I wanted to make believe him dying had never happened.

But I’m not that good an actor.

He behaves exactly the way the old woman warned me he would. He reminds me of a child.

I never wanted children.

This is the ‘in sickness and in health’ part of the marriage package, which I agreed to without hesitation.

Never mind the ‘till death do us part’ portion.

This comes with my vows, and I will honor them.

My love will help him. I know it will.

…

Can I really do this, or am I fooling myself?

***

January 17th –

I’m trying my best to take the bad with the good.

I managed to get him to the living room sofa. His legs were stiff, and he couldn’t seem to bend his knees.

He had been declared dead-on-arrival because of the injury to his neck. But I wonder if anything else is broken. I wasn’t really paying attention to the doctor when he went over the extent of Crowley’s injuries. After I heard the word dead, I tuned out.

I should get a copy of Crowley’s hospital records.

But if his legs are broken, how will I deal with that? Will the potion magically fix everything? It brought him back to life. Could fixing broken legs be more difficult than reanimating a corpse? What is the extent of the potion's effects? Do I need a secondary potion of some kind to repair internal injuries?

Maybe I should call the shopkeeper back and ask.

We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

He stumbled numerous times and fell on me. I did my best not to cringe at his touch or accidentally drop him. But those eyes, so close to mine, were like looking into a nightmare. I could see through them to the veins and arteries behind, the blood inside them black and unhealthy.

The fourth time he stumbled, though, I got the feeling that maybe he was falling on purpose so that I would be forced to catch him.

I even thought I saw the shadow of a smile cross his lips.

I watched him as he sat in front of the TV and renewed his passion for The Golden Girls. That show had been one of his favorites since he was a small boy.

He sat so still.

He didn’t swallow.

He didn’t appear to breathe.

The only time he moved was when he looked over to where I sat, I think, to make sure I was still there.

He sat for hours and watched TV.

There was nothing else for him to do.

I fed him salad for dinner, let him stay in front of the television instead of making him go to the dining room table. I didn’t see any reason to move him. He leaned down and sniffed the cold lettuce leaves, but he did not eat.

Neither did I.

***

January 19th –

After a full day of limping him around the house, Crowley is surprisingly steady on his feet. He can make it from the bedroom to the living room sofa by himself. It takes him a while, but he can do it.

His body is still in rigor, but he seems to be getting more comfortable with it.

I should be jumping for joy at his progress. The more mobile he becomes, the less dependent he will be on me. Every day that he improves, even a little, he is closer to becoming the man he was.

But I don’t know how comfortable I am with that anymore.

***

January 21st -

He doesn’t sleep. And now that he doesn’t rely on me to get around the house, neither do I. I know he sees me as a parent-figure, so he won’t hurt me. But he’s such an alien creature. Not like the old Crowley at all.

It’s strange having this version of him around the house.

When Crowley was

Before the accident, Crowley was so independent. He didn’t need me, didn’t need my help with anything.

But now, he needs to be near me all the time.

I understood there would be a change in our dynamic, but it’s such a striking change that it’s difficult to get used to.

I took a shower for the first time in days. I left him in the living room watching TV, but when I finished and opened the curtain, there he was, standing there … staring.

I fell asleep for about an hour afterward, and when I woke up, he was kneeling beside me, again staring at me.

He’s always staring.

What does he think about doing when he stares at me?

***

January 22nd –

I finally broke down and gave Crowley a shower. He didn’t stink, but there was something about him, something that smelled … well, I can't seem to find the words to describe it.

I just wanted it gone.

I’ve seen the injuries to his chest numerous times, but I haven't paid much attention to his back.

When I saw them, I almost threw up.

And he noticed.

He heard me gag.

I gasped, held in my urge to be sick.

He turned to face me, and for the first time, he had an expression on his face different from his blank one … but also different from that smile I thought I saw when I was helping him walk around the house.

He looked hurt.

***

January 27th -

Each day that he improves, I debate telling our friends that he's here. I know they miss us terribly. But in the end, it would be too cruel. He’s not himself anymore. He never will be. Most days, I curse myself for doing this to him. My motives were selfish. I wasn’t thinking of anyone but myself when I made the decision to bring him back.

I wasn’t even thinking of him.

Our lives are unrecognizable. We’ll never travel the world like we'd planned. Who knows if I’ll make it back to my bookshop? Should probably shut it down and have my books transported here. The way things look, the rest of our days will be spent in this cottage.

I have to be okay with that.

But what about Crowley?

If you asked rational me if I think he wants to live this half-life, with no potential to be anything other than a human puppet, who only barely resembles the man that was Anthony J Crowley, I would have to say no. Absolutely not.

But I can’t turn back now.

What am I expected to do? Poison his tea? Smother him in his sleep?

Would attempting to kill him even work?

And what about his soul?

If there is a Heaven, I surely pulled him out of it with my cock-eyed plan. What if there is no going back for him?

I can only hope that my love for him is enough to keep him from hating me when he’s able to comprehend what I’ve done to him.

***

February 1st –

I’ve finally gotten him to eat – bits and pieces mostly, bites of vegetables and corners of bread. It doesn’t seem like he likes it, but he eats it, and that’s good. He eats because I tell him to. It shows that he trusts me.

He’s more self-sufficient now.

He showers and brushes his teeth on his own. He picks out his pajamas and dresses himself. Sometimes he tries his hand at making the bed. He is attempting to be more vocal, but he has yet to say a single thing that isn’t a grunt or a moan.

I’ve been looking up the subject of speech delay on the Internet, trying to find ways to help him learn. I came across one website in particular with fun, creative ideas. I started making flashcards of consonant blends and one-syllable words. I felt so accomplished, so hopeful, like I was actually doing something positive toward the goal of moving us forward. I felt confident that after a little work with them, everything would be all right. I was so excited to show them to him, but then I realized …

… I have no idea if he can read.

***

February 3rd –

I tried calling the old woman at the antique shop in Soho to ask about the effects of the potion, but the phone has been disconnected.

I guess they went out of business after all.

It doesn’t matter. Nothing appears to be broken. Or maybe it’s that he doesn’t feel pain.

I was teaching him how to cook, hoping it would bring a bit of the old Crowley back. We used to cook together all the time. Honestly, we weren't all that good at it, but that didn't stop us from trying. We had just gotten the hang of a decent souffle before ...

Anyway ...

I started him small.

I had him grating cheese.

Seemed simple enough. The grater stands on its own, so not much to juggle. But he pressed too hard, ran the grater over the backs of his fingers, scraped off skin. He didn’t so much as flinch. I think it bothered me more than it bothered him. I bandaged it up and, without thinking, I kissed the wound. I looked at him in utter shock …

… and he smiled.

My heart leapt.

It’s so nice to see him smile again.

I never thought I would.

***

February 4th –

I took off Crowley’s bandage, and his wound from the cheese grater is gone! There’s not a trace of it left!

I guess that answers that question.

I should be relieved, but it bothers me, and I don’t know why.

***

February 21st –

Today was the most unexpectedly intense, depressing, and wonderful day all at once.

It started when Crowley woke this morning. He got up before me and tried to make me crepes. I had no idea why. He hadn't tried to cook by himself before, didn't even show an interest in cooking without me. He burned them, himself, and the stove all in one go. The fire alarm woke me, blaring in my ears. I managed to get to the extinguisher in time, but poor Crowley looked heartbroken over his ruined pan of blackened food.

Then, before lunch, he wanted to go outside. I think he was trying to sneak out, but I caught him jiggling the front doorknob (he has yet to master the bolt - thank God). When I caught him, he slammed his hand on the door in frustration and sprinted for the back one. I followed him, knowing it was locked and that he wouldn’t be able to open it. When I reached him, he was trying to wedge his way out of the old cat flap. (Note to self - board up the cat flaps! I don’t know why we kept them. We’ve never owned a cat.)

I patted him gently on the shoulder and asked him what he needed. He stood up and groaned, moving his mouth and wiggling his tongue, making nonsensical sounds. When he couldn’t say what he needed to, he pointed out the window to the garden. I assumed he wanted to check on his dahlias. I’m a disaster with flowers, and, unfortunately, I haven’t been able to keep them up the way he could.

Of course, it's one degree outside. The poor things are frozen solid. They're not even flowers any longer, I don't think, but the frigid remains of what they once were.

But he’d had yet to show any interest in them, either, before today.

I shrugged, repeated that I didn’t understand. He pointed more forcefully, jabbing at the window with his index finger.

“I don’t know what you're trying to tell me, my dear,” I said. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

I've taken him walking around Soho a few times. I've been trying to tie up loose ends, decide if selling the bookshop is the road to take. I wrapped him up in a full-length coat and scarf with just his eyes peeking out. I guess he enjoyed it, but he’d never asked to go outside. He shook his head and pointed again, this time at the dying rose bushes that I hadn’t had time to deadhead. I didn’t get it. I shook my head, and he stormed off to the bedroom.

I followed him there, but he blocked the door.

I could hear him inside, moaning. It was horrible. It sounded like pain and embarrassment and frustration, all rolled together. And I couldn’t help him.

He wouldn’t let me.

I tried to lure him out several times, but he didn’t come out till dinner time.

And when he did, he was dressed in a black Bergdorf suit.

Crowley has dozens of expensive black suits, and he looks stunning in all of them.

But this suit.

This suit in particular.

This suit had been hanging front and center in his closet.

Because it was the suit I had planned on burying him in.

It threw me for a loop, dragging me kicking and screaming back to that day I found out he had died, before I’d decided to try bringing him back, before I knew that I could. I took out the suit to air it. I guess I hadn’t put it back with the others because there it was, standing before me with the living corpse of my husband inside.

The sight took all the air out of my lungs.

“Take it off,” I said quietly, trying not to alarm him, but how was I supposed to explain to my somewhat dead husband that I didn’t want to see him dressed in the suit I had planned on putting him in the ground in?

He looked confused and shook his head, opening his mouth and groaning.

“Please, Crowley,” I begged, hoping he would hear my anguish and understand, “take it off.”

He stomped his foot and shook his head, the way a petulant child would. It should have been cute, but I couldn’t handle it. I've had issues getting used to his looks lo these many weeks, but for the first time since he came back to me, he looked dead.

“Take it off!” I screamed. I ran at him, grabbed the lapels, trying to tear it off his body. He held me, pinned my arms, and I could feel his renewed strength. I hadn’t really let him touch me before, but now I knew that if he wanted to, he could probably hurt me.

I stared up at him, realizing that he was hovering above me, and I was lying on my back on the floor. My heart stopped. He had never looked menacing before. Even in death, he seemed so innocent. But now, he looked like a monster. He had a piece of paper balled in his grasp, and he tried to make me look at it, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from his face – pale and cold and lifeless, regardless of the fact that he was my Crowley.

He stared at me, trying to speak.

It hit me like a pile of bricks.

Speak.

That’s exactly what he was doing.

His lips were moving in exaggerated, grotesque ways that shouldn’t be able to turn sound into words, but they were.

“A … Az … Azi …”

Crowley blinked and shook his head.

“Azir …”

“Aziraphale?” I asked in awe that he was trying to say my name.

Crowley laughed. It was a glorious, hollow, frankly frightening sound, but I couldn’t help smiling when I heard it. He put his fingers to my lips.

I guess he didn’t want me to steal his thunder.

“Azzzir-uh-phale,” he said, smacking his lips. “I … lo … I lov …” Crowley swallowed again, closing his eyes, trying to make the words in his head match the movement of his lips. “I … love … you … Azzzir-uh-phale.”

Crowley tapped again at the paper on the floor. This time I did what he wanted and looked. He had torn off the current page from the calendar and was poking at a box circled shakily in red. I peered down at it.

I could have cried.

“Our ... our anniversary?” I asked, looking into his broken eyes. He sighed, nodding.

It was our anniversary.

He’d wanted to make me breakfast in bed … for our anniversary.

He’d wanted to get me roses … for our anniversary.

My husband had wanted to do something nice for me … for our anniversary.

My husband had spent all day teaching himself how to say, “I love you, Aziraphale,” because there was nothing else he could do for me.

My husband remembered our anniversary ...

... even when I had not.

***

June 4th -

Five months-ish later…

I can’t believe it!

I cannot believe it!

Five months later and we’ve made it! Despite the odds. Despite the difficulties and the heartaches. Despite every time I thought about giving up, here we are.

Happy.

Together.

We spend our days wrapped in each other’s arms. We watch TV. I read books out loud - he sits and listens. Crowley is re-learning how to drive, and I’m on the hunt for a new Bentley. Our lives might not be what they were before, but they’re perfect for us.

We’ve managed to go to the city more, spent a few glorious nights at our flat in Mayfair. We've even interacted with one or two of our old friends. It's a wonder what some foundation and blusher can accomplish! I told them it was a medical miracle, and they believed me.

Because that's what Crowley is.

A miracle!

Okay, maybe I am tempting fate. But maybe fate needs to be tempted from time to time!

His vocabulary has expanded immensely, and a hint of his old suave confidence has come back, along with the muddy accent I so often teased him about.

I am finally at a point where I am optimistic about the future.

Because I’m beginning to think that there might actually be one for us.

***

August 13th –

I woke this morning to a strange squealing noise. At first, I thought it might be the smoke alarm again - odd since we got the cooking situation sorted, I thought. The longer I listened to it, the more I realized it wasn’t the smoke alarm. It didn’t sound familiar at all, so I didn’t worry too much about it. As long as an errant sheep didn’t get hit by a car, there was really no reason to jump out of bed and investigate. After a few minutes of listening to the goings-on outside, I determined that wasn’t the case, so I considered going back to sleep.

But then I noticed that Crowley wasn’t laying beside me in bed.

That isn’t too unusual. He’s normally the first one up on any given day. I just curl back into a ball holding his pillow to my chest until he returns.

He always returns.

The squealing wasn’t really that weird. I’ve thought for the last few months that we might have rats. Or squirrels. Or possums. I’ve heard that same squealing a few times before. But seeing as I can’t find any evidence of rodent-caused destruction anywhere in the house, I haven’t been too aggressive about hunting it down.

My stomach began to growl. I guessed I had been asleep for longer than I thought. Instead of returning to bed, I decided to make some waffles for breakfast. So I got up and went out into the kitchen.

That’s where I found Crowley.

He was crouching on the floor …

… covered in blood …

… biting into the spine of what used to be a raggedy old Maine coon …

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

He grinned his old, sly grin, licked his bloody lips, and said, "Hello, Aziraphale. Can I get you a cuppa tea? I know just how you like it."

He winked at me, and my heart stuttered.

…

I may have a problem.

***

Those are the last words on the page.

A page where the ink is smeared from tears, and the edges crusted in blood.

I haven’t seen Aziraphale or Crowley in decades. They used to send the occasional letter, but those stopped a while ago, and they never call. But something tells me neither of them ever left this house alive.

I’m afraid my time, too, has run out. I came to this house alone. But huddled in the darkest corner of the attic, I hear footsteps coming closer, a sour voice on the wind calling my name …

Ka-thunk …

“Warlock …”

…

Ka-thunk …

“Warlock …”

…

Ka-thunk …

“Warlock …”

…

KA-THUNK!!

***

“Warlock Dowling!” Crowley calls, barging into the attic, footsteps heavy on the worn floorboards. “Are you recording another one of those Clip-Clop thingies again?”

“It’s TikTok, Nanny,” Warlock replies, rolling his eyes, “and no. I’m reading a story for my YouTube channel.”

“Well … you done getting a costume together or wot?” Crowley asks, changing the subject, saving face that he actually understands anything Warlock just said. “Adam and his hooligans are gonna be here in a minute. Aziraphale is gonna have kittens if you’re not ready to go Tricks or Treats!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Warlock says, gathering up his camera. He loves Halloween with a passion, but he’d been eyeing this one journal in Aziraphale’s bookshop for some time now. This video he’s been putting together promises to be epic - the crowning achievement of his burgeoning story channel. Most horror story channels get their material from the Creepypasta Reddit, but he has a unique source of original material … when he can get out to Soho, that is. “I’m coming.” He pulls the lapels of the leather jacket he’s borrowing for the evening together in front to tighten it up.

It’s slim fit as it used to be Crowley’s from back in the day, but thirteen-year-old Warlock still swims in it.

Warlock marches to the door under Crowley’s watchful eye. Before he can make his way through, Crowley stops him, slipping a hand underneath the jacket and rescuing an extraneous prop - an antique journal.

“Have you been snoopin’ through Angel’s old manuscripts again?” Crowley asks, wiping the cover clean. “You know how he feels bout that.”

“I know,” Warlock admits sheepishly, “but my audience loves them! I get thousands of hits off his stories! Besides, I put my own twist on them, freshen them up a bit.”

“Do you now?” Crowley asks with an unamused eyebrow notched.

“Why didn't he get them published?” Warlock shifts gears before the lecturing can start. “He’s an amazing writer!”

“He had his reasons,” Crowley mumbles, flipping through the pages. After skimming a passage or two, he puts it down on a pile of similar journals, a shiver sliding down his snakey spine. “Oof! Those things’ll give you nightmares.”

“They should terrify you. He’s murdered you in every single one!”

“Ah, but he does it with love.” Crowley grins wide enough to swallow his whole face. “It’s an honor.”

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #tricketyboo2020 #ineffable husbands #ineffable lovers #aziraphale #crowley #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley

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eezy-breezey · 4 years ago

Text

Ping Pong Tuesdays

It was a rainy Tuesday in Gotham, which for the diverse youths of the Batfamily meant only one thing. Ping Pong Tuesday.

Ping Pong Tuesdays are a Bi-weekly game hosted by each of the kids at their various headquarters, hide outs or just Dick's old and kind of stale smelling apartment.

This weeks game was to be hosted by Jason.

Tim, Cass and Steph all stood in the back alley to Jason's safehouse. It smelt of beer and urine, most likely from the patrons of the nearby bars. In front of the trio was a large steel door, which looked almost rusted shut, bolts all around the edges of it. To any drunk passerby the door would seem no different than any other, possibly a back entrance into a secret and elusive nightclub, although no one had ever checked.

Tim shuffled his feet, his shoes sticking to the ground. "Why does Jay continue to live here? There are much better hideouts that aren't as sticky."

"It fits his aesthetic" Steph shrugged. Sitting atop her blonde hair was a large golden crown, and a sash that read 'Ping Pong Queen', she had sewed it herself.

Cass stepped forward and pressed one of the bolts on the edge of the door, 3 from the left and 12 from the right. A panel on the door moved, a retinal and fingerprint scanner both slid out from the panels place. Cass moved her eye and finger into position, a green light flashes from the warning light above the door in it's alcove. Clunking and screeching sounds from the locking mechanism behind the door fill the alley. Cass looked back to Tim and Steph, still awkwardly standing in the alley, "Let's go."

The trio made their way upstairs, passing bright red motorbikes, alien tech that flashed and sparkled under the blinking ceiling light, a large weaponry case which sat open in the corner, with bows, arrrows, guns and an axe or two hastily thrown in.

As they continued up the dark staircase voices and sounds became clearer. "I said put me DOWN, TODD!" Tim threw his head back slightly at the sound of Damian's voice. Their relationship had admittedly improved within the last 6 months, yet there was something about his voice that caused Tim to roll his eyes and groan at the slightest sound of it.

Steph reached forward and opened the door to the apartment. Jason stood with Damian thrown over his shoulders like a fireman, the three couldn't see Damian's face but they had a pretty good idea of what it looked like. Duke sat on a bean bag, laughing and smiling, more so at Dick who was trying unsucessfully to get Damian off Jason's much taller shoulders.

"Peasants, your Queen has arrived!" Steph struck a pose as she walked in, flicking her head and crown back.

"Heeyy guys!" Duke smiled and waved as Cass glided past Tim, who was still dragging his sticky feet along the floor, and through the room.

"Took your time, we almost thought you'd been captured by Kite-man or something."

"Todd, release me. NOW." Jason lifted Damian off his shoulder and handed him like an annoyed little kitten, dangling in the air, to Dick who's arms were now outstretched.

"Alright," Jason clapped his hands together as Tim walked through and Steph squeezed in next to Duke on the bean bag. Cass had hopped onto the ping pong table sitting in the middle of the room. "Tonight, as your gracious host, I vote we play Sting Pong."

"Jay," Dick chimed in, "we are not playing that. It'll just turn into a revenge game like last time." Everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Last time they played sting pong Tim left with a welt on his back so large it almost resembled Russia.

"I'm not really keen on another game, my welts lasted over a week."

"I mean, I'm up for it."

"Steph of course you're up for it, you never lose."

"Tim it's not my fault that I'm the Ping Pong Queen."

"It sounds like you're afraid to lose again, Drake."

"YES COME ON LET'S GO!" Jason shot up again, smiling, hands up in the air.

"Um, I wasn't here last time, what's sting pong?" Duke almost had his hand up, like asking a question in class, it's an old, hard habit to break.

At this point Dick's face was in his hands, Damian and Cass had already moved to pick up their paddles ready for the first round. Dick was so tired of being the responsible one. "It's exactly like ping pong Duke, except whoever loses the point has to turn their back around while the other person gets a free shot to hit the ball as hard as possible into them."

Duke's face froze in slight horror, "Why is everything so violent with you guys?" The sound of the ball bouncing on the table back and forth had caught the attention of the other kids. Damian and Cass had already started. They held the longest rally record as they were equally stubborn and competitive.

As their rally continued the speed rose sharply, perspiration had started gathering on Damian's brow. The others had gathered around, watching intently while Jason rummaged through the fridge for drinks. OJ for Dick, Cola for Duke, Rootbeer for Steph, Lemonade for Tim and a beer for himself.

Tick, tick, tick. The ball bounced on the cold concrete floor, Cass stood at one end of the table basking in the glory of it's sound, while Damian had tossed his paddle to the side.

"Damn it!!" He yelled through gritted teeth, he looked up to Cass who motioned with her hand. "Turn." Damian turned his back and lifted his shirt up to his shoulders. In one swift motion the ball had smacked into the middle of Damian's back, a choir of 'ooo's came from around the table as they looked at the red welt that had already started forming. Damian was mumbling something under his breath as Tim tried to hide a little snicker, "probably a curse," Tim mused to Steph and Duke.

Jason picked up Damian's paddle on the floor, placing his glass atop the bar behind them. "Alright Dickie, we're up." Dick moved to Cass and exchanged her paddle for his glass of orange juice. "Okay, okay, alright. But I'm serving."

"Fine by me." Jay was shifting the weight through his feet in readiness for Dick's serve.

They were barely even 3 rallys in when Dick performedone of his signature trick shots, the ball bounced on the table then shot off in the opposite direction. Jason had lost. "FUCK!" Jason yelled. Dick smirked as Jason took his shirt off and turned his back towards Dick. "You wanted to play Little Wing, you have to suffer the consequences of losing."

"Shut it Dick and just hit the- OW!!" A red circle was left on Jason's right shoulderblade as the ball bounced his from his skin.

Dick walked back to join the others on the couch and check on Damian who was still mumbling. Losing wasn't a favourite thing of his. Steph jumped up out of her seat and moved to the table, she had brought her own paddle, it was eggplant to match her Spoiler costume. "Tim, you and me, let's go." Tim groaned in his seat, throwing his head back and sliding slightly forward. "Why me? Duke hasn't played a round yet." "No way, I'm not playing against Steph first round, I'll play Jason."

"See, Tim? Come on, you're up." Tim slid off the couch and up to his feet, walking to the table where Jason had left his paddle. Steph wore the crown and sash for a reason, no one could beat her and no one understands how. Tim believes that Cass easily could, but she enjoys seeing her friend happy as the Ping Pong Queen.

As Steph and Tim started their rally Dick sat next to Duke on the loungechair that had been previously occupied by Tim. "So, how many welts do you guys end up with after one night?"

"Well, normally if it was just 2 people you would keep playing until you had finished a proper match, since there are so many of us we play to one point for the first round so we all get a chance. You tend to end up with at least one welt from everyone. Unless you're Steph of course."

Dick had already grabbed another glass of OJ from the fridge, as Cass had claimed his original one.

"OUCH STEPH!!"

"Sorry! Love you!!"

Tim was rubbing his lower back as he walked back to the group, Damian's demeanour seemed to had changed the instant Tim was hit. A slight smirk on his face now.

"Y'know", Jason started, "last time, Damian walked away with a black eye."

"That's because this game is insane." Duke looked around at the losers rubbing various parts of their backs.

"Wait, if you only hit them on their back, then how did he get a black eye?"

Dick and Damian had already moved to the table to play their round, unaware of the conversation happening on the couches.

Cass barely moved as she continued watching Dick and Damian play, studying how to beat them during the next rounds. "Steph."

"Oh yeah, Steph punched him."

@livia-art and I came up with a little Ping Pong Tuesday HC for the Batfam, so here it is!

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waxfeatherss · 4 years ago

Text

Jiminy Cricket!

Summary:

Ruby hesitantly spoke up again, “Penny?”

Despite putting everything she had within herself into stopping it, Floating Array—an incomplete set of swords—was called out and readied.

Word Count: 1,465

Ao3 Link

She felt the ground beneath her boots rumble, a thunderous boom from outside silencing everyone in the room. Ruby’s shoulders tensed, sparing a stray but reciprocated glance in Blake’s direction, before sprinting to the entrance of the Schnee Manor.

Smoke filled her senses almost immediately. Despite having to narrow her eyes, nothing could hide the jutting pieces of rock—the crater —that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. Ruby’s stomach twisted and her mouth went dry, a sense of dread capturing her lungs, but her legs wouldn’t stop.

She couldn't stop.

Vaguely aware of the hurried footsteps behind her, Ruby slid to the edge of the hole and peered in. Time seemed to freeze as her heart dropped in one nauseating motion.

“I-I’m sorry.”

________________________________

Everything hurt. Everything felt wrong.

Her eyes stayed out of focus, blurring her vision of the world around her, but nothing she did could fix it. Her body wouldn't listen to her. Panic overwhelmed her systems, a familiar scene with a girl in golden armor flashed in her mind, the same feeling from that day overtaking her.

She remembered the sensation well; she wouldn't ever forget how little control she felt in that split second between utter pain and dead silence.

Penny knew that her battered legs wanted to stand, despite her cries to just lay down for a moment, they defied her will and struggled. Her arms rebelled against her too, making it easier to come to a stand. The gears in her knees were barely keeping it together; she knew how weak she was right now. Red alerts, detailing her current condition, blended into the crimson coating over her eyes. Please, she tried once again, please stop.

The Vault, it repeated like a broken record. Go to the Vault.

Whirring to life, her rockets sputtered uselessly. Dead. The little voice in her head continued with its orders, unbothered.

“Penny!” Sparks—proof of the damage done to her—danced over her face, shock gripping her tightly. She’d desperately fought against the commanding voice to redirect her fall and it had worked. “Penny, what happened?” she heard her dear friend ask, as though she were speaking through water, but worry clearly soaked her words.

The Vault.

That pretty blob of red tried to reach out, but it made her step back, completely disregarding the aching in her chest.

Go to the Vault.

I do not want to. I won’t.

Ruby hesitantly spoke up again, “Penny?”

It was smart, that tiny voice. Even if it only said the same four words, it carried something terrifyingly competent within it. She could name the moment it knew what was causing her newfound defiance.

Despite putting everything she had within herself into stopping it, Floating Array—an incomplete set of swords—was called out and readied.

________________________________

This couldn’t be happening.

It was all happening too fast.

With a burst of petals, Ruby had scooped Blake and Weiss away from the unexpected attack. From Penny. Luckily, it’d been slow enough that she’d seen it coming from a mile away, though she hadn’t wanted to believe it was happening in the first place.

And Penny chased after them, her blank face and dull crimson eyes struck a flood of both fear and concern in her.

For the most part, they’ve been playing an endless game, just the five of them—May having joined them soon after weapons were drawn—and Ruby couldn't bear to change that anytime soon. She couldn't risk hurting her. Not when Penny was already so injured, the green liquid dripping from her legs and leaving trails on the concrete beneath her more than proving Ruby’s point.

Going on the defense was their best plan.

“Any other bright ideas?” May shouted, narrowly dodging a swipe from Penny. She shifted on her feet to swiftly block another, pushing back to create an exit. An ice wall materialized just in time to protect her from another attack. “You’ll have to excuse me for not believing she’ll have a sudden change of heart in the next few minutes.”

Ruby gripped Crescent Rose tighter. “She’s tired, she can't keep this up forever,” she reasoned under her breath, panting slightly. She threw out a louder response, “Penny’s hurt enough as is, we just need to hold on a little longer!”

But she’s hyper aware of the tremble in her muscles, the sweat rolling down her temple, the heavy breathing from all parties minus one. None of them have gotten a second of sleep. They were exhausted and at any moment they could easily slip up, small or big. Auras were low, however, any mistake was a big one at this point. It’d been one of the first lessons she learned ever since Beacon.

And Penny? Penny wasn't holding back.

Ruby shoved that thought away, hiding it in the deepest parts of her mind; she would never hurt them like that.

Yet here she was, flying swords and all.

No. It’s not her.

Ruby flinched at the sound of her partner’s shriek. Her attention instantly switched onto Weiss, from her place next to May, as the girl ducked under two swords aimed for her neck. Black ribbons circled around the winter maiden’s wrists, tugging them away from the Schnee and back to Blake and Ruby.

Once again, pleading silvers connected with empty crimsons.

“Are we absolutely positive that this is Penny?” Weiss voiced breathily, now that she had time to do so, doubt coloring her tone. “The Ace-Ops stole one of her swords, maybe it’s connected?”

It was a good question. Ruby could scream, an increasing fury bubbling under her skin, but she held it in. The Ace-Ops stole Penny’s sword, that must have been it. She should’ve stopped them, she should’ve chased them down and taken it back by force, she should’ve done something before this.

Before she was forced to fight her friend.

Guilt threatened to drown her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Blake’s semblance caught her attention with a flare of fire dust, but Penny had always been so smart—she always learned quickly and adapted even faster than that—but Blake didn’t know that. Blake was tired. The others wouldn’t make it in time.

Before Floating Array tore apart her teammate’s aura, Ruby used up what little remained of her own to take Penny high up into the sky. The last view she’d see before darkness filled her senses was that of the shattered moon, taunting her in all its beauty on that inky canvas of a sky.

It was broken, yet it still did its job.

________________________________

They were falling. Penny knew that much.

Bitter winds that promised to leave small cuts, along with flying, became very much like old friends to her recently. She knew them well. But in her trapped state, they felt mild and somewhat alien to her. Recognizable, yet not the same.

She hated it.

Through her hazy mind, Penny realized her rockets weren’t on. The Maiden powers, for some reason, refused to work under these circumstances. Logically, she shouldn’t be flying—no, falling—right now. Satisfaction ran through her when she figured out that the little voice in her head was just as confused.

That is, until a singular rose petal floated past her line of sight.

An icy horror spiked into her core, eyes widening as they flickered from red to green. The picture in front of her finally cleared, Penny could count the stars she admired every night and she could feel the full blast of the air against her back as she fell. This body was hers.

Go to the Vault.

No. Vibrant flames flared brightly from her face. I will not.

The wind welcomed her back eagerly.

________________________________

Warmth cradled her, surrounding her like a gentle cocoon. Ruby exhaled quietly, the tightness in her body loosening, absentmindedly searching for more comfort in the arms holding her. Her hands found purchase, but she stilled at the cold and sticky surface. Her eyelids flew open, fear grasping at her suddenly.

A tiny, apologetic smile, accompanied by bright and beautifully neon eyes, met her on the other side.

Ruby carefully sank deeper into Penny’s arms, wrapping her sore arms around the other girl’s stomach. Hot tears stained her cheeks, along with another green liquid she refused to think about, but she could've sworn the breeze moved to wipe her face. It didn't matter though, what did matter was already in front of her.

She cried longer and harder than she’s done in a long time.

And Penny silently kept them hovering in midair until she was ready, the crackling of magic fire bringing her closer to a calm.

“I love you,” she mumbled into the silence between them.

The response was immediate and soft, “I love you too.”

#rwby #rwby v8 #nuts and dolts #ruby rose #penny polendina #my writing #aaaaaaaaaaaa i wrote something again #its been a while

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lambourngb · 4 years ago

Note

How bout some Michael POV for your masterpiece?!!!

This takes place during chapter 2, Michael has just exited the mindspace and is waiting for the agents to question him.

“I take my last chance, to burn a bridge or two”

Michael had passed the point of exhaustion both two days and ten years ago.

The thin, plastic covered cushion in the holding cell at Chaves County Sheriff's Office had the same feel of familiar comfort as his camp bed mattress in the Airstream, both places adequately met his needs after a bender or a brawl. He was never one to shy away from dropping into oblivion, met in the bottom of the bottle or at the end of a long night of working on his ship, until today. Closing his eyes meant slipping into the almost hypnotic state of the mindspace, and then he would hear her voice again.

His mother. Golden and whole for a moment. She was the energy between his cells, the original instructor of his atoms, funneling life into him; to grow and be strong.

“Oh my beloved son, oh you’re here, you’re here already grown and bound, I’m here, but no time, not enough time, there’s so much you should know my beautiful boy, I love you, I love you so much, I will always love you, now go, run, run for me.”

His eyes snapped open as the burn of tears threatened again. Goddamn it, he didn’t have time for that. Taking a deep breath, he stared up at the unremarkable ceiling to force his mind to go quiet. It was an old building, but built soundly. Not a crack in the plaster, not a flaw to betray its age. It housed the broken, who knew where home was but stayed away in the arms of intoxication; the evil, who knew home as a place for violence or thievery, and the lost, who longed for a home but never found the way back. All those souls gathered under its roof, this solid roof that sheltered without wear or tear.

At one time Michael had been all of those; deep into the dark warmth of drunk, or full of crooked wagers from dice games, he had even been picked up on a cold night a time or two with nowhere to go. Marked by violence in a tool shed, the system shocked with such a hard shove on his orbit, that he was knocked forever from the path he once had as a teenager, left to wander in all of those grim directions.

Once upon a time his English teacher assigned to the class, near the end of term with graduation nipping at their heels, some busy work in the form of a ‘where do you see yourself in ten years’ thought experiment. His hand had sketched out a good job, college degree, and a house, while his mind traveled the fantasies of holding the small hands of a child, of helping pat dirt down over a buried seed in his garden, of Alex, always Alex, playing his guitar on the back porch-

Fuck. His bare left hand, now whole and hale, mocked him.

Michael wrenched his mind back to the present, and dug out a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket to wrap over his left hand. He tied a knot, pulling it tight with his teeth. A bitter smile crept over his mouth, using his teeth again for the grip he lost in his hand was familiar at least.

Hopefully whatever trouble that Max was in, was teaching him a lesson in meddling where he wasn’t wanted. High on power Max thought to heal his hand, but took no care to think about the damn consequences of everything, of Noah, of the things Noah was up to in Roswell. He flexed his hand again, the tight constriction of the fabric felt comfortably close to how the scar tissue pulled and tugged over his ruined knuckles. Already there were too many questions to answer, he didn’t need one more on his hand.

As angry as he was at Max, he couldn’t help but hope that the flash of pain/wrong/vacuum wasn’t so serious that he couldn’t be useful now. Ride into the Sheriff’s Office, explain away the questions to his boss about Noah and Racist Hank, so Michael could be released without need of Alex and Alex’s story.

Goddamn it Alex. Showing up at the Wild Pony, those hopeful dark eyes turning wounded and betrayed as he realized that just because he didn’t see Michael as suitable, someone else did. Like he had the right to protest Michael moving on from them. It wasn’t Michael saying that they couldn’t be together because of Michael’s record, and it certainly wasn’t Michael saying that their relationship wasn’t worthy of a pyrotechnic breakup.

And yet. When the pyrotechnics were happening, Alex was there. Immovable. Saying everything that Michael had longed to hear for ten long years.

“I love you. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you and I would give anything to have this story be true, that you were mine all along.”

A tear slipped down his unshaven face as he blinked rapidly. Alex was so stupid, how could he miss the fact that Michael had been his? Across the years, through two different battlefields, and after Alex had finally come home, Michael had worn two concrete boots, Alex and Isobel. Each his own anchor to this planet, as he worked to complete his ship.

The door swung open, startling Michael off the bunk, as a tall, dark haired man was escorted into the room by Agent Ross, who shot Michael an annoyed look. “Just knock on the door when you’re ready.”

The imposing cut of the military uniform and densely packed square of ribbons on his chest sent a shivered down Michael’s spine. It was only just over two days since Michael had been involved in the destruction of a secret military operation.

“Michael Guerin?”

“Depends on who is asking.”

“I’m Major Mark Torres, attached to the JAG office at Kirtland Air Force Base.” The officer tucked his cover under his arm and held his hand out toward Michael.

None of what this Mark Torres said made any sense to him. Kirtland was three hours away, Holloman was the closest base to the Caulfield facility. Michael lifted his eyebrows mockingly, but made no move to step closer to the open cell door, “That’s nice and all, but I’ve got nothing to say to anyone until my lawyer shows up.”

An amused smirk flitted over his mouth, “I am your lawyer, Alex sent me.” Instead of waiting for a response, Mark entered the cell and took a seat on the bunk, turning to Michael with a patient expectation. He placed the brim of his cover next to Michael’s black cowboy hat and then pulled his slim briefcase into his lap. “I admit, this isn’t how I expected to meet you, the infamous Michael.”

“Alex got me an Air Force lawyer?” The rest of that implication, that Alex had spoken of them to anyone in the past, let alone someone in the service was too much to even think about.

“I’m a lawyer who’s in the Air Force, and I’m doing this in the civilian court system pro-bono,” Mark replied easily, and popped the fasteners of his briefcase open to pull out a yellow legal pad and a pen. “Now that we’ve covered why I’m here, let’s talk about why you’re here. Tell me everything you know about Noah Bracken, what your connection to him, why the police might think you’re involved with his disappearance, and why they found a body when they came to question you.”

Michael stared at Major Mark Torres for a long moment, weighing his extremely limited options. The distant place inside him, where his faint connection to Max lived, was still and empty. He rubbed his wrapped fist against his face before sighing as he took a seat next to him. Alex said to trust him that he would get Michael out of this, and whatever mess that lay between them after Caulfield and now Maria, Michael believed wholeheartedly that Alex didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep.

As a rule Alex Manes didn’t make promises at all, to anyone, least of all to Michael.

“I know Noah Bracken, I mean everyone does in this town and I have a record, petty shit obviously, but that’s enough I guess for them to suspect me. But I have an alibi, I was with my boyfriend all night- hell, I’m with him every night. We’re kinda makin’ up for lost time since he was in Iraq, until well-”

“You’re referring to Captain Alexander Manes, correct?” Mark asked, scratching notes down on his pad without looking up.

“No one calls him ‘Alexander’, but yeah. Alex.” Michael licked his lips almost nervously, before he took a deep breath. This was the easy part of the alibi. “Alex is everything to me. I fell in love with him when we were seventeen, and I never stopped fallin’.”

“He did mention you were a romantic.” Mark nodded in approval of Michael’s words and capped his pen, “let’s start with the last time people saw Bracken in public at that-, good God, this town has a museum dedicated to aliens? What a thing to celebrate. Anyway, Alex tells me you’re a mechanic, that you can fix anything you put your hands on, were you at the gala for business purposes?”

Michael stuttered a little, feeling his face heat in embarrassment. He wasn’t used to anyone singing his praises, let alone a complete stranger. What did Alex say to this guy? “Um I helped do the lighting and sound for the organizer, Isobel. Um, Isobel Evans-Bracken. I left Alex at home, err, my Airstream ‘cause he doesn’t really enjoy the dog-and-pony show even though there was free booze. I gave a friend a ride home, Maria Deluca, and then spent the rest of the evening with Alex. In bed.”

His pen never stopped moving, “and last night, when this Hank Gibbons ended up dead, you were with Alex again? At your Airstream again?”

“Yeah, um, Alex lives pretty far out of town, and I had work in town. Um, during the week he spends a couple nights at mine, on weekends we’re at his place. Compromise.”

Spinning this fairy tale of shared residences to Torres, of disappearing to Alex’s cabin on the weekends and splitting the time apart during the week renewed an ache inside Michael. The slow turn of a bolt, burrowing into his heart as the threads of the light caught on hope and corkscrewed deeper into place.

“No one can corroborate that, correct? Other than Alex?”

“We’ve been keeping our relationship quiet. For personal reasons.”

This time Mark’s pen came to a halt, and he looked over to Michael with a sad understanding smile, “I’ve met Alex’s dad. He’s a first class prick. I’ve never met anyone more different from Alex in my life.”

“That’s for sure. Niger can have him. In fact, I hope he gets Ebola over there.” His eyes glanced up to the video camera on the corner before dropping to Torres again. Michael paused, hedging the risk of this disclosure, before continuing, “I’m not a violent man, but if I were, I wouldn’t bother with the town lawyer or the local racist asshole, it would be to protect Alex from that guy.”

Mark followed his gaze to the camera and back, before nodding. “I think I know all I need to know about you, Michael. Let’s go clear this up with the locals and get you released.”

***

“You were with Captain Manes all night? You didn’t leave at all?” Agent Ross asked quietly, his thin face placid, while his partner, Agent Rollins barely held back the curl of disgust from his face.

“Have you seen Alex? Like dude, I know I’m punching way above my class with him, you would have to be crazy to leave a bed that had him in it.” Michael smirked, fiddling with his hat on the table. Next to him, Major Torres stayed quiet taking notes.

“And he can confirm that?”

“Yes. I know he didn’t let you have a good look, but my Airstream isn’t big enough for him to miss me leaving. Trust me. We were together all night.”

“Let’s go back to the fight you had with Mr. Bracken-”

“Man, that’s bullshit, okay?!” Michael cut him off, “I did not have a fight with Noah, and whoever says differently is lying.”

Mark set down his pen to touch Michael’s hand lightly, before looking at the two agents evenly, “one eyewitness, on a dark night, does not overturn the alibi provided by Captain Manes. Let’s move on, shall we?”

“This relationship you’re in with Captain Manes, he’s alluded to the fact that it was kept secret. I find that rather convenient, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to help out a friend. Maybe cover up the fact you were having an affair with the wife of our missing lawyer?” Rollins smirked, exchanging glances with his partner.

It took a moment before Michael could catch the inference, and then only Mark’s tight grip on his wrist kept him in his seat. “Wait?! You think I’m lying about Alex to cover up for an affair with Isobel? What the fuck, man? Number one, that’s gross on a number of levels, number two, Alex is the most stubborn man alive, but he’s also the most honorable. He wouldn’t do that for anyone, especially not about adultery. He could get court martialed for that shit.”

Ross picked up his turn to provoke, offering another even almost-bored question to Michael, “I see, you deny that an affair was going on with Ms. Bracken. So you’re not attracted to women then?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Torres protested.

“Mr. Guerin opened the door earlier, basing his alibi on how attractive a bed partner Captain Manes was.”

Michael took a deep breath again, pushing down the nettled feelings of exposure. Of all things he thought he would be discussing at the sheriff’s office, this wasn’t anywhere on the list. “Not that it’s relevant, but I’m bisexual, yes. I’m also monogamous. It’s not that difficult to understand. I love Alex, I wouldn’t cheat on him with anyone.”

“So on the night of the Gala, that was thrown by your platonic good friend Mrs. Bracken, you were there, without Captain Manes, but in the company of a Ms. Maria Deluca. Another platonic friend, I assume. Do you remember anyone bothering Mr. Bracken? Someone who might have wanted to harm him?”

***

Hours later, after they had combed through every minute of Michael’s time at the gala and the night before when Hank Gibbons was at the Wild Pony, the agents finally concluded their questions and granted his release from temporary custody. There was still an air of disbelief from both agents regarding his alibi being with Alex.

From the outside, Michael couldn’t blame them. Even setting aside his spotty employment record, rap sheet, and history of being in care of the state, anyone with eyes could see that Alex Manes was a man who could have his pick of partners. Why would he pick the outcast of Roswell? It didn’t make sense to Michael that was for sure, and that had been true almost from the beginning.

“This was fun, Agent Rollins. Let me know if you want me to go over my movements from the other night again, and Alex’s even better movements. I can really open up on that, if it helps,” Michael offered, stomping the blood back into his boots as he left the interview room eagerly.

There was some satisfaction in seeing out of the corner of his eye, Agent Rollins looking as if he had bit into a lemon.

Next to him, Torres grabbed Michael’s forearm with a warning squeeze and steered him down the hall where Alex was waiting with a worried expression. “What my client means is, you have my number if you wish to schedule a follow-up interview. We’re happy to cooperate in any investigation, especially if it leads to Mr Bracken returning safely home.”

Alex’s eyes flickered from Torres’s hand on his shoulder to the agents and back to Michael, but there was a hint of smug satisfaction in those dark eyes. Somehow Michael knew that Alex was holding back amusement over his graphic words to the bigoted agent. Well, there was no sense in not completing the performance.

He moved into Alex’s space comfortably, and brought his hands to Alex’s neck to draw him into a kiss. His last memory of kissing Alex, had been handled and revisited to the point of being thread-bare before being set aside as an old fantasy out of reach. Feeling Alex’s arms come up and hold him close, sent shocks down his fingertips as he cupped Alex’s chin to hide the chasteness of the kiss from view.

Alex wasn’t playing fair in return.

Those big, firm hands of his slid up Michael’s back, and threaded into the sweat-thick curls of his hair. Michael felt Alex’s lips part against his, that clever hot mouth opening to Michael, and nothing tempted Michael more in that moment, than following Alex’s lead.

That long bolt of the lie, turned deeper inside him, shredding the few safeguards he had in place. Alex loved him, Alex wanted to protect him, Alex had never stayed before- so many truths, so many reasons he wasn’t able to trust this especially now. Michael kept his mouth closed, and after a second, he felt Alex back away. They were good at that at least, retreating.

Alex’s cheeks were warm, probably from the public nature of the kiss, even as his face showed only the firm resolve of their shared story. His eyes drifted down, playing his role of a shy lover with Michael expertly. “You uh, ready to go home then?”

“Long past ready, darlin’.” Michael exhaled tiredly, already wondering how he was going to make it through this without losing more of his heart than he had to spare in the process. He reached for the familiar weight of his hat in his hand, and tipped it to the still watching agents.

#malex fic #fake dating your ex because of the feds #no beta here #malex #michael guerin #alex manes #missing scene #no excuses ask meme #hmd023

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thelibranarchives · 4 years ago

Text

For @giucorreias Flufftober prompts. Day 1- Touch.

'Bellatrix Lestrange,' Harry Potter said, voice so toneless and flat that Draco Malfoy shuddered suddenly with the goosebumps that cropped up. He didn't dare lift his eyes from the ground, though. Not that he could, with the blue-black bruise over his left eye. The entirety of the nearly twenty foot great hall was silent, half of them ashamed at being admonished and the other half, listening with rapt attention to the saviour of the wizarding world.

'I'm pretty sure,' Potter went on, 'that with the exception of the first years, a majority of the rest have had first hand experiences with her.'

A few voices in the back made mumbling noises as though protesting. Potter looked sharply at them.

'Or wasn't that your excuse to start physically and verbally abusing the Slytherins?' Weasley snarled in their direction, hands on his hips.

More voices rose and Draco swept a quick look around the hall. The students at the four tables were now standing up and starting to talk over each other while those at the fifth table that housed the eighth years were fuming silently. Blaise, Pansy, Millie and Daphne were standing next to him, all of them holding hands like a group of five year olds about to cross a road.

Draco knew they had brought this upon themselves and the students were, at least slightly justified in their actions. Their attitude wasn't really shocking. It was Potter's stance that was surprising everyone. Just like it did four months ago when all three of the Golden Trio testified for Draco and his mother.

Potter had smiled at him after he had been acquitted, a smile Draco had trouble fathoming even months later. Draco had thought it felt like a truce that day. He didn't know how to define what was happening now.

'Since many of you seem to have trouble recalling Bellatrix even though we have on record that she visited our school on the weekends,' Potter said loudly, quieting the hall once again, 'how about someone who I know is still in your nightmares?'

Granger whipped her head around to Potter at that, eyes widening in realisation. Draco closed his eyes, grunting in pain and squeezing Blaise's fingers into paralysis.

'Fenrir Greyback!' Potter said and everyone flinched before they were aware of what they gave away.

'That was who Draco stood against and lied to. A dangerously powerful Legilimens and a frightening werewolf.'

'He bullied you. He bullied us. They all did!' A sixth year Hufflepuff screamed.

'Malfoy was the reason the Death Eaters could enter Hogwarts,' another chorused.

'And what makes you think he didn't suffer like you?' Granger snapped, turning back to them. 'Would a pensieve memory of Draco shrieking under a Cruciatus be enough or would you like to go back in time and watch it happen yourself?'

'Draco,' a soft, lilting voice called that Draco found himself unknowingly turning towards. 'I haven't ever thanked you for healing my injuries, have I?'

Luna Lovegood walked down the aisle between the tables to stand before him. 'Thank you,' she smiled, engulfing him in a hug.

Draco saw more than heard the gasps that followed. His grip on Blaise's hand loosened momentarily.

'If we stood beside each other, how many do you think will mistake us for siblings?' Lovegood pulled back and went on, either truly oblivious to the bulging eyes or deliberately choosing to ignore them.

'Quite a lot, I'd say,' Ginevra Weasley said, coming up behind her and wrapping a hand around her shoulders. She scrunched her face, looking from Lovegood to Draco and back again, nodding as if she found the similarities already.

'Are none of you hungry?' Longbottom asked from the eighth year table.

'We'll be right there, Neville,' Ginevra replied, steering Lovegood away. She stopped when she reached Daphne.

'Oh Daphne,' she said conversationally, 'did all the first years you helped escape make it?'

'They did,' Millie nodded. 'We uh, we diverted the Dea- the Dea- we diverted them elsewhere when they came for us.'

'That's what I heard,' Ginevra nodded back. 'Don't you like plum cake? That's our dessert today,' she continued, looping her other hand around Daphne's neck, signalling Millie and walking off.

'You heard her,' Weasley said, looking at Blaise and Pansy, 'the food's going to go cold.' He motioned them both to join him.

Blaise, Pansy and Draco exchanged looks and started to move when Potter grabbed Draco's wrist and held him back, his expression inscrutable. Potter stared at him for a long time before he tightened his hold and turned back to face the room.

'Voldemort,' he started, uncaring of the wince the name induced in the others, 'causelessly believed that purebloods and Slytherins were better than muggleborns and mobilised an army of like minded people to take over the world. If you were any better than him, you wouldn't judge someone on the basis of their blood or house affiliation.'

Draco idly thought Potter had grown into quite the person, drilling silence into others. A wandering part of his brain also wondered if defeating Voldemort gave one such powers.

'He was your worst enemy!' A boy from Ravenclaw shrieked.

'Voldemort was my worst enemy. Draco was only my opponent at school and we've made our peace with each other,' Potter snapped. 'If this is only about him, then why are the other younger year Slytherins also taking a trip to the Infirmary twice a day? Have they bullied you or insulted you? Did you know that none of the Slytherins here killed anyone?'

'They tortured us.' This time it was a Gryffindor. 'Last year. You don't know what it was like. You weren't here.'

Potter rolled his eyes. 'Yes, I was pole dancing in France.'

Draco couldn't help the snort but covered it up with a cough just as Potter became serious again. 'You all were threatened to torture each other by the Carrows. Either point your fingers in the right direction or don't point at all. This alienation of Slytherins and blaming them for everything that happened is no different than Voldemort ostracising muggle borns. No one is asking you to befriend them but this kind of behaviour will not be tolerated further.'

Potter didn't wait for their response. He turned to Draco, took his chin in his hand and lifted his wand to Draco's swollen and bloody face. He locked eyes with Draco once before whispering, 'Episkey.'

Draco's injuries healed with a crack and snap as Potter slithered his arm around his shoulders and walked them to the eighth year table. He forced Draco down in between himself and Finnigan and piled his plate with food before pushing it towards him.

'Eat. You look like you are starving,' he said, pouring some soup into his own bowl.

'Thank you,' Draco whispered, shocked into gratitude and something that felt like affection.

Potter smiled wider at that and in another absolutely astonishing gesture, knocked their heads together. 'No problem, now eat.'

Down the table, Ginevra Weasley and Lovegood were in a conversation with Daphne and Millie. On his right, Blaise, Longbottom and Weasley were chatting about the new single from the Weird Sisters. Opposite him, Pansy and Granger were being painfully awkward until finally they both snickered when they reached for steak at the same time. Potter was complaining about his Transfiguration essay to Dean Thomas on his left and Headmistress McGonagall had moved to the podium and announced that she was scrapping the system of house tables from the great hall, informing everyone that they had to mingle or else.

Deputy Headmaster Flitwick had deducted fifty points each from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff and Hagrid and Firenze toasted to Potter. Draco was, however, deaf to it all. He was stuck in that timeless moment when Potter smiled at him.

He now knew how to define it. Change. That was what this was.

In the occasional bouts of lucidity he had the past year, when he was not obsessing about the result of the war, Draco had found himself obsessing about the aftermath. The changes that would be brought forth seemed to range from working for the Ministry brewing illegal potions and teaching Dark Arts at Hogwarts if Voldemort won to either grovelling in poverty, famished, desolate and lost or locked up in Azkaban for life if the Light side won. Therefore to Draco, this outcome of the war was unexpected to say the least.

The touch of change had always carried with it a sensation of dread in the past. But now it appeared to contain an inexplicable elation that whispered of hope. If the post war atmosphere included Lovegood, Granger, Longbottom and the Weasleys backing him and Potter leaning into Draco as he unconsciously ran his fingers through the mess at the nape of Potter's neck, then change definitely wasn't something to be feared.

Since he was completely lost in experiencing the new touch, only Blaise noticed that Draco's wrist was still in Potter's grip.

There will be more fluff in the coming days. This was onlymeant to lay the foundation for it.

#oneshots #hogwarts #eighth year #drarry #harry x draco #harry/draco #harry potter #fluff

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newtafterdark · 4 years ago

Text

Taste of Metal - Chapter 8: A Lecture on Trespassers

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157634/chapters/65517814

Summary: What if the overwhelming VR experience Gordon went through, had a deeper purpose than just being a simple simulation & a freelance debug job for him?

But most importantly- what if Gordon Freeman listens to Metal & used to be in a band? aka. the “Metalhead Gordon AU”

- - -

Gordon had to admit that it had been a while since he organized such a big breakfast. It brought his years at MIT back to mind where he and his roommates somehow collectively managed to keep each other on their feet, food included.

But his worries over the possible mediocrity of what he, Dr Coomer and Bubby might have created - with him being the only one who had actual physical experience with cooking - went right out the window when he saw the looks of amazement and gratefulness at the table.

Despite having said that he needed neither sleep nor food, Benrey had stacked his plate with a bit of everything that had been brought on the table. If he had been any other person, Gordon would have been concerned. But it was likely that everyone at the table either hadn’t had a proper meal in quite a while or had never had the chance to have one before.

So when Benrey was carefully layering a pancake with ham, a fried egg, cheese and peanut butter, Gordon just watched with a soft amused smile.

Meanwhile, Tommy was losing his mind over the concept of Nutella-Banana toast.

“I-I can’t believe I missed out on this! They never had anything like this at the Black Mesa cafeteria!”

Gordon chuckled.

“Doesn’t surprise me, bud. But now you can have that every day if you want.”, he added with an assuring smile.

Tommy nodded in excitement, already in the process of making another Nutella-covered toast, exchanging his left-over banana slices for Darnold’s strawberries.

Darnold added the banana to his honey wheat cereal in thought, then looked up to meet Gordon’s gaze.

“Apologies in advance for prying, Gordon… but I do have a question, If you don’t mind.”

Gordon blinked over the edge of his mug, cutting the sip of hot cacao short.

“Sure, man! What’s up?”

“Well… I recalled your reaction from last night when Bubby talked about exploring the world outside. You seemed… alarmed. Why?”

Gordon set his mug down, brows furrowed as he looked at his plate. He figured he’d have to tell the Science Team about the outside world eventually...

“It isn’t as safe as you’d think, guys.”

“No place is ‘safe’, Gordon.”, Bubby scoffed while cutting his omelette into bite-sized pieces.

“I am aware, but this is… simulation levels of ‘not safe’.”, Gordon clarified.

“What do you mean, Gordon? D-Do you guys had natural disasters recently? We understand! We can deal with stuff like that! No worries-”, Tommy threw in, but Gordon held up his hand.

“Let me… go get my laptop. I need you guys to know what’s going on.”

With that said, Gordon got up and went into his bedroom, missing the confused glances the Science Team exchanged among each other.

When he returned, Gordon set up his projector and plugged the connection cable into his laptop. He let out a sigh, then opened a folder on his desktop.

“Alright, welcome to class 101 of ‘Gordon explains what the fuck has been going on on Earth that shit’s fucked up outside’...”, he said, adjusting his glasses and getting into lecture mode.

He watched as the Science Team huddled closer to each other at the table, curiously looking at the projection on the wall… but still keeping at it with the breakfast. Gordon smiled softly before reminding himself of what he was doing.

“... August 10th, 2013. San Francisco. We thought it was a 7.1 earthquake at first. Bad enough to begin with… but then the video feeds and photos got to the news...”

The Science Team watched with high attention as Gordon opened up a video file of a news recording.

The Golden Gate bridge was swinging dangerously in clear view- until the camera focused on something else.

Something huge.

Something absolutely massive.

What emerged from the waters could only be described as a leviathan of a monster. It tore the bridge down with ease and almost instantly made its way towards the city, dragging itself through the water completely unphased by the military attacking it with comparably small aerial strikes.

“We called it “Trespasser” since it was the first of its kind we were forced to face.”, Gordon added, his voice sounding heavy with memories.

The video ended and Gordon turned back, facing his friends.

Tommy had his hands covering his mouth in shock, Darnold was holding Sunkist oh-so-gently with horror in his eyes, Bubby was clawing at the table as he stared with wide eyes and even Dr Coomer sat there with concern in his face.

The last person Gordon expected to be shocked by this though, was Benrey, who looked positively mortified.

“Dude, w-what the FUCK?”, he managed to stutter out.

“Y-You say it was the ‘first”? There were m-more?!”, Tommy asked.

Gordon just nodded at that.

“The next one arrived 6 months later in Manila-”

“Six months… that was barely time to rebuild the other city...”, Dr Coomer mused, more to himself than to the others.

“Then came another one 4 months later in Cabo San Lucas-”

“They were arriving faster???”, Bubby exclaimed with horror.

Gordon nodded, pulling up pictures after pictures, playing videos to put emphasis on the seriousness of the whole ordeal.

“It was a disaster… We faced smaller ones than Trespasser occasionally… but the big ones got even bigger over time. We faced several each year until only recently. As you can imagine, Earth is still very much damaged in a lot of places because of this. Some areas are completely uninhabitable because of the acidic and poisonous nature of the Kaiju remains-”

Benrey almost chocked on a piece of bacon-

“You guys called them ‘Kaiju’??? Like, uh- Godzilla? Big Lizard???”

Gordon let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah… one of the lead scientists behind the research of these beasts is a massive nerd. At first, he only called them that at work to differentiate the samples he got… then the names actually stuck over time in the official reports.”

Coomer raised his hand.

“Gordon, how did humanity fight these beasts? It looks like the military was once again absolutely useless!”

Gordon clicked through his files, looking positively excited to show off whatever humanity's defence system had been-

“So, uhm, before I click play… basically humanity got together and formed the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps or PPDC for short. Within the PPDC was the research division… and that included the scientists and engineers who worked on these-”

What the team saw next in the projection, made several of them gasp in excitement and astonishment.

The video showed a dragon-like kaiju getting absolutely wrecked by what could only be described as a massive robot.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME???”, Bubby exclaimed.

“Yooooo, what the fuuuuuuuck, man...”, Benrey added, holding his head in his hands, eyes still glued to the projection.

“This… h-how-”, stammered Darnold, staring in awe.

“Oh, that is quite the fine work of robotics, Gordon! Very sturdy by the looks of it!”, Dr Coomer observed, giving an approving nod, “So you used these to defeat the kaiju in one-on-one fights?”

“Well, if we could, we had more Jaeger facing one Kaiju- and yes, my nerd buddy at the PPDC also named the class of the robots.”, Gordon clarified with a chuckle.

Tommy perked up at that.

“That man is your friend, Gordon? Can we meet him?”

“Well, I haven’t talked to Newton in quite some time… and not with Hermann either… I could e-mail them and ask where they’re stationed so we could meet and catch up? Heh… yeah, I should do that. Newt especially would love you guys!”

Meanwhile, Bubby leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and glaring at the images still being projected.

“So… the reason it’s dangerous outside is that these things could pop up anywhere at any moment?”, he asked.

Gordon made a so-so motion with his hand.

“Not quite. The Breach, that’s what we called the portal to their world, was closed not too long ago… but we still deal with the damages and the toxic kaiju remains...”

Gordon pulled up a photo of an entire coastline glowing in an unnatural blue in broad daylight.

“We call this ‘Kaiju Blue’... the closest comparison I could make is that it’s… like acidic oil-like blood. Basically don’t get near any of this at any point. Compared to it, the Green Sludge back in Black Mesa was just a glow-in-the-dark kiwi slushie.”

That comment earned Gordon a few chuckles and amused huffs.

“But yes… this is the main reason I want you all to be careful when we go outside. The PPDC still studies what the fuck this stuff can do to a human body… and I don’t want to find out what it might do to you guys. Just… no slurping the toxic alien juice, please?”, Gordon pleaded.

To his surprise, the team gave him assuring nods.

“Gordon, normally I would say that you’d be a party pooper… but since we’re all new to this terrifying information, be assured that we will listen. After all, you’re now the specialist!”, Dr Coomer said with a smile.

Gordon’s tense shoulders relaxed at the reassurance. This was a welcome change from what he had been used to from the Science Team in the simulation.

“Thanks, guys. I… I know this is a lot to take in- and please take your time to process it! - but I just… I needed you guys to be aware.”

“Oh, it’s alright, Gordon! I-I think it will slowly sink in over a few days, right guys?”, Tommy asked, turning to the others at the table.

“I’m already done processing… but we need your laptop for more research, Gordon. I want to know more details on that whole disaster before I take even one step outside.”, Bubby muttered before sipping on his now cold coffee.

“Of course! And don’t be afraid to ask me about anything, related or unrelated to all this! Honestly, the more I can help with you guys being prepared for the outside world, the better I feel about our whole situation.”

Gordon turned off the projector for the time being and sat back down at the table.

“And, uh… thank you all for listening and letting me explain? I’m not used to that from you guys… but yeah, thanks.”, he said with a weak but grateful smile.

Darnold reached over, putting a hand on his shoulder, while his other hand was still gently petting Sunkist.

“Hey, know that we’ll always listen to you from now on. The simulation was one thing… but this is reality. I think I speak for everyone when I say that while bantering with you is álways fun, we won’t push your buttons to a frustrating level anymore. Especially while you’re still recovering.”

Gordon simply nodded at that, playing with the rim of his shirt.

Suddenly, he stood up once more, startling Darnold slightly.

“Gordon, a-are you okay?”, the mixologist asked.

Gordon nodded, looking quite serious all of the sudden.

“I… I want you guys to meet someone.”

Benrey visibly perked up.

“Oh shit!- is it son time? Haven’t seen him around so… uh… road trip to go see Gordon Jr?”

“I can’t wait to meet your son, Gordon!”, Dr Coomer chimed in.

“W-Well, we don’t need to go anywhere to meet him… uhm… give me a second, I just need to go get my closet key-”

“CLOSET KEY???”, gasped Tommy in shock.

“TOMMY, DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT IT WILL MAKE SENSE IN A SECOND I SWEAR!”, Gordon yelled back while he was scrambling to find his keys.

The entire team watched in a mix of judgement, curiosity and excitement as Gordon unlocked the storage closet that Benrey had sat on top of earlier that morning.

They saw his anxious expression completely melt away to make way for a loving gaze as he pulled out something orb-shaped from within the closet depths.

A sleepy chirp-like sound suddenly emerged from what Gordon was holding.

“Hey… ‘morning, bud. Dad’s finally back home...”, Gordon said with the most gentle voice any of the Science Team members had ever heard him speak with.

Another chirp, this time a bit louder-

“....dad? DAD! YOU’RE BACK!!!!”

Suddenly the orb-shaped object launched itself out of Gordon’s arms and flew in rapid circles around him, making the man laugh. He reached out and pulled the orb out of the air, hugging it close.

“I am! Hey, uhm… dad brought some friends over. They are really excited to meet you. Do you want to go say hello to them?”, he asked gently.

The Science Team watched in anticipation as Gordon walked back to the table, arms wrapped protectively around something that was as big as volley-ball.

Tommy gasped softly as he leaned over to get a better look.

A small screen on the orb slowly came into view, displaying a curious little face consisting of numbers and symbols.

Two appendages, seemingly constructed in part out of computer mice, pulled the small being further up as it looked warily over Gordon’s arm at the Science Team.

Gordon smiled proudly at the display of mutual curiosity.

“Everyone… meet Joshua.”

#metalhead gordon au #hlvrai #hlvrai gordon #benrey #tommy coolatta #hlvrai darnold #hlvrai bubby #hlvrai coomer #hlvrai sunkist #WELCOME TO THE KAIJU ZONE #newton geiszler #hermann gottlieb #both of them only mentioned by name... for now #pacific rim #but also I WANT TO SEE MY LITTLE BOY #HERE HE IS!!!!#hlvrai joshua #fanfic #fanfics

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hopeatermeetsgodzilla · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 15

“-and he’s lived on Mara since then.” Madison finished, Florès humming and nodding in acknowledgment. The younger girl was currently reading the files about the Titans as the mechanic tinkered away on the new model for the ORCA.

It’s size was between the original prototype and the smaller one he had given Emma. This one was supposed to have a wider range of available sounds than just the options to make a Titan stand down or provoke them to a fight. “Damn, that’s a sucky backstory. And you’re telling me Rodan jumping in a volcano in an effort to be with his wife in death may be related to why he can live in one?”

“Yeah. I mean, Mothra can reincarnate.” Madison said with a shrug. “Magic that allowed someone to survive lava doesn’t seem that far-fetched.”

“Magic doesn’t exist.” Florès said, shaking his head as he got up from his chair, walking to the coffee machine and mini-fridge he kept in his office. “It’s just science no one has figured out yet. You want any snack?”

“Chocolate. And how would you explain reincarnation then, uh? Or Isla de Mara just... vanishing without a trace?”

Florès seemed to think for a moment. “Either Mothra is actually a really long family line of moth Titans who leave notes to each other in order to pull the longest scam in history- catch,” He threw a kit-kat at Madison. “-or the theory of genetic memory is actually right. As for Mara, I dunno. Probably something with physics...”

“What would you do if you learned magic was actually a whole science in itself?” Madison asked as she opened the candy. “Would you be mad?”

“I would be mad, yes. What about the last ones?” He asked as he started the coffee machine.

“Alright, so... Ghidorah...” Madison started. “There’s three of them, but we don’t have records of their actual names. But we do have nicknames: One who is Many, Golden Demise, Death Song of Three Storms... wow, there’s a lot.”

“Just give me facts, like with the others- powers, known relationship with other Titans, current whereabouts, and whatever backstory Dr. Chen scrounged up.”

“Alright, so: last seen near Mara, and disappeared at about the same as the Island. Everyone seems to hate them, and the feeling is mutual.” Madison turned to look at Florès, breaking her kit-kat up.

“What about their powers?” Florès asked, pouring himself a cup and coming closer.

“Uh... bio-electrical, energy draining, meteokinesis, flight of unknown nature, suspected to have a high level of telepathy, independency from oxygen...” Madison listed off.

Florès nodded, taking his seat again. “Is it noted somewhere why he doesn’t need oxygen. Like, are they deep-sea weirdos, or something?”

“... Look in the opposite direction.”

“What do you mean, look in the opposite direc- no.”

“... yeah... it says in the ‘myth’ section that they fell from the stars...”

“No no no no no no no- we’re dealing with fucking aliens!?” Madison nodded. “¡Qué cojones...!” Florès snapped, slamming his cup on his desk. His attention then snapped at the unfinished ORCA. “I need to finish this.”

“Most of the myths they’re in also all portray them as malevolent.” Madison added. “Like, ‘inspiration for the Christian Devil’ malevolent.”

“Mmm. Don’t like that.”

“What, you’re Christian?”

“Raised catholic, yeah.” Madison eyebrows shot up to her forehead. “Comes with the territory when you grow up in Venezuela. But I doubt these guys fell from grace, or anything.”

Madison hummed, going back to looking at the computer screen, even if she wasn’t reading anymore. “I talked to one of them, you know?”

“Did you?” She nodded. “How?”

“I... one of them was able to get outside of his body.” Madison started, Florès nodding and taking a sip from his cup. “And he talked to me. Brought me to mom when she came to get me in Antartica. And... told me he and his brothers just wanted to be free.” She buried her face in her hands. “I should’ve trust my instincts, should’ve known he was lying...”

“Well, you’re twelve.” Florès noted, patting Madison on the shoulder. “You can’t know everything. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Plus, you’re not the one who freed him now.” He then turned back toward the ORCA. “If I had been in your mother’s position, I would’ve done the same. And I can guarantee you that your mother would’ve still saved you if she knew all that stuff. So stop blaming yourself for getting kidnapped, alright Russellita?”

“Alright.”

Oh, that rock he was laying on was comfy.

Rodan never wanted to get up, curling up a bit even as he finally opened his eyes. The sun had risen a while ago, indicating he had slept in. Which made sense, seeing as he had stayed up talking and star watching with Ghidorah, who had been... surprisingly nice. They just talked about places they remembered seeing beyond the world Rodan knew, pointing at locations in the sky when it turned dark.

Now that it was locked away from reality, the night sky had gained it’s stars back. He used to think that Ghidorah were vengeful souls back from the dead, but he supposed that stars being a map of the world beyond their own made just as much sense as them being the imprint left by the departed.

Nevertheless, the scenery this morning was still very pretty. With the sun reflecting in the water with thousand of sparkles and illuminating the golden strands of hair around him, it was as if light was bouncing off of everything.

Wait a minute...

Rodan opened his eyes more fully, looked up, and realized with horror that he was laying in Ichi Ghidorah’s lap, who had his hair undone for once and forming a curtain around him. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

Rodan screeched, jumping to stand up and suddenly very awake, only to stumble and land on his ass. “How long have you been watching me!? And why was I sleeping on you!?”

“Since my brothers woke up a while ago. And you fell asleep while we were star watching last night. The ground didn’t look very comfortable, so I moved you.” Ichi answered, still sitting as he leaned toward Rodan, who looked around him with a panicked expression. “You asleep looked like you were agreeing...”

“Okay, don’t manhandle me when I’m unconscious. And where did those two go!?”

“Ni is exploring what’s left of the human settlement. San is looking for rocks.” Ichi answered coolly, hoping the little bird would calm down eventually.

For now, to no avail. “Why are they doing that!?”

“Ni wants to see if there’s any humans left. As for San, he just wants to find rocks.” There was a pause, Ichi debating whether or not he should open up a bit. “He will also inevitably smash one of these rocks on my head as revenge for telling him to do things, but that can’t be helped.”

“... there’s no humans left.” Rodan angrily muttered, finally taking his eyes off Ichi. “They all left some times before you came here, and those that didn’t were probably flung away when I fell for the humans’ bait.”

Ichi raised an eyebrow at that. “Bait?”

“Humans figured out how to create calls.” Rodan explained bitterly. “They used one to bait me into flying into your storm.”

Ichi chuckled. “Oh, we’d have found you either way. The whole reason we came here in the first place is because San wanted to see you.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t have had to fight off the three of you in the middle of a raging storm.” Rodan retorted, bringing his knees up to his chest.

Ichi simply shrugged, going into meditation. {Ni, there’s no humans left. They all left before we came here.}

[Are you sure?]

{The little bird told me they left.}

[You’re really just going to believe him?]

{What?}

[What if it’s a trick?]

{What would he get out of lying about that!?}

(Also, he’s telling the truth.)

[Hello, brother San. How do you know that?]

(Hi Ni! Humans have a really strong emotional presence despite being so small and stupid, so they’re really easy to spot. Along with Rodan, we’re the only ones here.)

{And you didn’t tell us anything for some reason because...?}

(I thought you guys already knew! I mean, I get Ni not noticing because he’s so bad at it- no offense-)

[None taken.]

(-but brother Ichi!? You should’ve noticed ages ago.)

{Okay then-}

[Brother San, we haven’t even been there for a full day yet.]

(You know what I mean.)

{You two-}

[Anyway, I think humans figured out electricity, and how to generate it.]

{What!? Are you su-} Ichi was snapped out of his thoughts as he felt something lean on his leg. He opened his eyes, looking down at Rodan. The smaller being was leaning his head on his thigh, eyes closed. Was he... was he sleeping?... no, just resting. {The both of you come back as fast as you can. Ni, bring back some evidence.}

(But-)

{That’s not negotiable, San.} Ichi ignored his brothers as he put his hands on Rodan. One under his back, and the other one under his knees.

Rodan opened his eyes, confused. “What are you- gah!” Ichi had lifted him, only to promptly set him down on his lap. He chuckled as Rodan’s face started glowing brightly, twirling a lock of red hair around his long fingers. “Wha- telling you not to manhandle me when I’m sleeping wasn’t code for ‘do it when I’m awake’-”

“Don’t move.” Ichi told him, fingers carding through long red hair and separating it. “How do you usually style it?”

“Uh... simple ponytail, and I use another twisted strand to keep it together.” Rodan explained hesitantly. He looked down as Ichi started humming a little tune to himself, taking a strand of hair right above his ear and braiding part of it.

“How high do you keep your hair?” Ichi asked Rodan, who hummed in confusion. “I know it’s not high like San’s, but it doesn’t seem to be at the base of your head either.”

“J- just do it however you want.” There was a pause were there was no movement, Rodan fidgeting. He then brought a hand to the back of his head, claws tapping the middle of the back of his skull. “It doesn’t immediately become a problem if it loosen up, that way.”

“You don’t have to be so shy, you know? Why don’t you tell me what happened to you while we were sleeping.” Rodan shrunk on himself at that. Ichi leaned down as the other started debating it to himself, taking the braid within his teeth before lifting a sleeve up. He tied off one of the short ribbons he usually kept for his hair.

“I... became the Fire Guardian.” Rodan finally admitted.

Ichi hummed, starting to gather hair for the ponytail, letting go of the braid in the process. “What happened to the last one? The bird with the colorful feathers... what was her name again?”

“Quetzalcoatl. And she... died. Out of control volcanic eruption, the smoke is what killed her.” Rodan’s voice had broken on that fourth word.

Ichi raised an eyebrow, tying the ponytail with the ribbon. “You two were close?” He was pretty sure the only people Rodan had been close to was Godzilla.

“We met after you guys got sealed.” Was the only context he offered.

“I see...” Better not push the subject for now less San’s plan gets ruined from trying to dig too deep too fast, but it would be interesting ammunitions for later. He tied the braid around the base the ponytail, passing whatever wasn’t braided under it. “Done~”

Rodan hesitantly pat the braid on the side of his head, before shaking his head a bit. It seemed to be holding better than normal. He was about to thank Ichi, before remembering he was still sitting on his lap and jumping off with a yell. This time, he was able to right himself, and looked at him. Since the Ghidorah was sitting down, the two were at mostly the same eye level. He coughed hesitantly, the flush on his face lessening a bit. “Th- thank you.”

“You’re welcome, firebird.” Rodan’s flush immediately came back, his face almost glowing a golden color.

“Still better than ‘little bird’...” He muttered to himself. Rpdan than turned, facing away from Ichi. “I’m going to go for a short flight, ascertain the damage you and your brothers did. Do not try anything while I’m gone, got it?”

Ichi chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re trying to be intimidating. And understood. I’ll be right there when you come back.”

“... Good.” And with that, a strong breeze lifted an extremely flustered Rodan of the ground, leaving Ichi alone and in a good mood.

Said good mood immediately faded away as he felt something collide with his head. He looked to his right, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Ni who had smashed something made out of wood on his head, “Really?”

“I wasn’t finished searching, and you were getting too touchy-feely.”

“Yes Ni, that’s the plan.” Ichi reminded his brother. “Get close to Rodan in order to manipulate him.”

“You were getting touchy-feely- here’s the human tech.” Ni dumped what was left of the pole on Ichi’s lap. The older brother took a look at it, frowning. Certainly what was needed to transport energy from one place to another, but not enough to not lose any in travel, and there was too many pieces.

“That doesn’t make sense.” Ichi grumbled. “This is too primitive compared to the flying machines they had. It should be more in line with it. The other civilizations we saw always had a consistent level of tech on the entirety of their planets, if not always in line with other civilizations.”

“Not all of them.” Ni reminded him. “You remember the Exif, right?”

“Of course I remember the Exif.” Ichi hissed. The first (and the last) civilization to ‘loan’ Ghidorah from the Xiliens for a period of time that could be counted in years. In this case, for the upper class to intimidate the lower ones into believing their Gods had come to smite anyone who would dare oppose them. And since Gods were supposed to be immortal, they had stayed for several Exif centuries.

But then the Exif ended up believing their own lies, and upon San’s request, found a way to disconnect them from the Conductor. Enveloping their planet in an endless storm and watching it die had given Ghidorah such a rush they just knew that it’s what they had been taken away from their own world for.

“Not sharing everything in an equal manner between all seems like something they would do.” Ni commented. “And humans always lived in small, separated communities with a clear leader. Maybe it became more apparent as time went on? It goes very fast to them, after all.”

Ichi groaned, taking one last, distasteful at the components in front of him. “Still. There’s never that big of a gap in technology on singular planets. If they have figured out space travel, the furthest they would be able to go to is their moon.” A rock landed on the back of Ichi’s head. “Welcome back, San.”

The youngest brother sat down, giggling as Ni gave his own snort. His arms were full of rocks “Sorry, needed to get it out after you interrupted my search for cool rocks.”

“Did you find any cool rocks?”

“Not really...” San whined, handing the rocks to Ichi, who started looking them over. Most of them had the same hard quality as the ground. “You called us back before I could find good ones... oh! But I did find this!” Out of the tissue he usually draped himself with, San got out a glossy black stone that had a powdery, golden sheen to it.

Ni’s eyes widened by a fraction, making a grabby motion for it. When San shook his head, his face soured. “Why?”

“I want to give it to Rodan. Show of goodwill.” San explained. “By the way, where did he go?”

“For a flight. He wants to see how dead his island is.” Ichi answered off-handedly. “Are you sure that plan of yours is going to work? Fire bird has... quite the temper. He might not break if we tell him the humans were the ones who did this.”

“Someone angry at us but more at our target is still easier to use than someone who’s just angry at us.” San replied, before frowning. “Also, I thought he was ‘little bird’?”

“’Fire bird’ sounds less insulting than ‘little bird’.” Ichi answered, shrugging. “Like you said, show of goodwill. That, and doing his hair.”

“... Brother San, give me that rock.”

“No, Ni!”

“It’s not for me. I want to be the one giving it to the fire bird.” Ni answered. Upon his brothers’ confused faces, he continued. “It’s easy for the both of you to pretend to be nice- oblivion, San is actually nice. It’s not for me. But the plan isn’t going to work well if it doesn’t seem like I’m at least trying to be nice. So?”

After a few seconds, Sa handed the stone to Ni, the message in his eyes obvious. Don’t screw this up.

We cannot screw this up.

#writing #my writing #oc #my oc #madison russel #ghidorah #King Ghidorah #ichi ghidorah #ni ghidorah #san ghidorah #kevin ghidorah #rodan #rodorah #Godzilla #godzilla gijinka

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itsuki-minamy · 4 years ago

Text

“K - THE FIRST STORY” (Novel)

CHAPTER 2: FLAMES (Complete)

*PROLOGUE: SIDE: THE BOY

CHAPTER 1: THE BOY NAMED ISANA YASHIRO

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

December 7th. That day was the day before the important girl's birthday.

Tatara Totsuka, who is not the only one from "Homura", has been preparing for a few days with his friends for the eleventh birthday of Anna Kushina, the girl who is everyone's princess.

She is an important girl to Totsuka.

She is like a sister, a good friend and a comrade.

Totsuka thought that she had the ability to get closer to the "King" than anyone else in Homura.

When Totsuka looked up, his Supreme "King" Suoh had just descended from the second floor.

A man whose red hair is slightly raised like a lion and looks like a gangster boss, but today, he loosened his poor eyesight a bit and looked around the bar.

The first floor is the HOMRA bar, which is also the base of "Homura", and the second floor is a residence where Suoh and Anna live.

From inside the counter, Izumo Kusanagi, the bar master, speaks lightly.

"Mikoto. Anna fell asleep?"

"Yes."

Although the preparation for the birthday party is directed to Anna, who is the protagonist, at the moment, it is a secret, but Anna is a very intelligent girl with sensitive abilities. Of course, she will know that Homura members are restless to celebrate her birthday, and she may even be careful to look away. However, Totsuka thinks this kind of thing is very important.

Totsuka gave Suoh a red rose to give to Anna tomorrow.

"So, King. Yes. Give it to Anna tomorrow and congratulate her."

Anna has a color vision deficiency and can only recognize colors in red. Perhaps that is why Anna is deeply concerned with the color "red". Tomorrow, he plans for Anna's arms to hold the bright red roses given by each of the members.

For a few seconds, Suoh looked at the red flower Totsuka offered him and received it.

"Oh, what honesty."

Kusanagi lightly mocks the king who obediently holds the flower without complaining.

"Keep Anna upstairs until noon tomorrow. In the meantime, I will prepare for the party.”

Totsuka laughs at Suoh and asks Kusanagi, who works at the counter, "Do you have anything to help?"

Misaki Yata, a boy who cuts Homura's bark, broke in and said, "I will do some work for you." (Yata is nineteen, but because he has a baby face and is always skating in clothes with his knuckles on his knees, he looks more like a boy than a young man.)

Glancing at Yata, whom Kusanagi told his to do a chore, Totsuka raised his favorite camera.

Totsuka has an old camera. Because he likes the taste of digital movies that are different from the ones he takes with the PDA, Totsuka has a hobby of using this camera to take photos of Homura's everyday life. Totsuka has many hobbies but this is the hobby that continues the longest.

"Then, I should go home after a while."

"Totsuka, do you have something to do?"

Totsuka laughed and said that he had something to record to show Anna tomorrow, on her birthday.

He wanted to show her the scene where Anna, who can only see the color red, would surely think it would be great, using the camera that always records his friends.

Hearing Totsuka's story, Kusanagi and Yata laughed as if convinced. Suoh didn't say anything, but snorted a bit with a softer look than usual.

Totsuka, wearing a coat and holding a camera, laughed at his friends, "See you tomorrow!" And left the HOMRA Bar.

There is an application called "Candle". It's that kind of app that when you turn it on, a red candle-shaped light comes on the screen. There is no usage conference, etc.

But everyone who puts it on their PDA, is using the app for a purpose.

It was an urban legend.

When you direct a "candle" light at the airship, the airship lifts you off the ground.

Such rumors have sincerely been told. Actually, he has heard stories that they've been on the airship, but generally think of the common phrase in urban legend that says "friend of friend."

The airship flying over Tokyo is rumored to carry a globally wealthy person, but the actual situation is shrouded in mystery, there are various theories like alien theory and living god theory, and some of it is the object of faith.

The general public recognizes that a strange rich man who continues to fly on the airship, but his mystery, believe it or not, attracted many.

Totsuka and the "people related to the Slate" know his identity. He is just a "King" similar to Suoh. Adolf K. Weissmann, the first king, the "Silver King". The King, who has been flying in the sky for more than half a century and does not interfere with the ground, must be an old man as much as the "Golden King", but he has an immutable attribute and is still young. Apparently. He only knows what information appears to be, but Totsuka has never met another "King", and has no particular interest.

However, for those who did not know the existence of the heavenly royalty of the "King", Totsuka was interested in those who wanted salvation in a mysterious "something" full of mystery.

Everyone who points the "sail" towards the airship has something to do with this land, dreaming of another world, not here. The red light shining on the PDA seemed like a lot of colors in their lives.

When he stands on the roof of a building at night, he can often see the red light of a "candle" shining everywhere. He believes that the red light of the "candles" can be seen in the city at night, as if the entire city were a large cake with lit candles. He wants to show Anna that on her birthday tomorrow. Totsuka was heading to the building, which is a hidden place where the night view looks particularly beautiful, camera in hand.

Will Anna say that the red light on the candle is clear or will Anna, who has the ability to respond, feel the emotions of the people in the candle and feel the pain? However, Totsuka thinks the scene is beautiful, including the fact that each red light is full of people's thoughts.

Totsuka reached the target building and went up to the rooftop.

There was an unexpected customer on the rooftop.

From behind, he can see that he is a little boy like a high school student.

Did he come to see the night view? Or he may be trying to aim the sail at the airship. His body seems to sway a bit, but it's suspicious behavior, but he can hear him sing a song of joy with a buzz, and he doesn't think he's reached the rooftop to commit suicide.

Totsuka sometimes met a person who lit a "candle" when he came to record the night view.

At those moments, Totsuka decides to speak. People who light the "candles" often have some kind of worry and dissatisfaction, and when he listens to them, they can glimpse their lives and they can spit out a lot of regrets, and often cry.

Between the clear night sky with the stars and the lights of the city with human activity, Totsuka walked towards the boy's back while pointing the camera at him.

"Hello, it's a nice night."

A cold winter breeze blows high, stroking his cheeks. An illuminated night. It is a nice night, with the beautiful starlight, the city lights and the red lit candles.

"I came to film the night view, what are you doing in such a place?"

There is no response from the boy. He doesn’t even look back.

"I am Tatara Totsuka. What about you?"

The boy suddenly turned around. He could see something black glittering in his hand.

Soon after what he thought, a shot rang out.

++++++++++

The news of the death of Totsuka Tatara, the executive of "Homura", reached "Scepter 4" at midnight near dawn.

The first report was brought to Seri Awashima, Lieutenant of "Scepter 4", by Izumo Kusanagi, the executive staff of "Homura".

Awashima heard Kusanagi's voice so cold for the first time. Kusanagi was calm and not bothered at all. However, the calm he usually shows in front of Awashima is not so fragile, and he simply announced the minimum deeds and will necessary.

The fact that the executive, Tatara Totsuka, was shot dead by a person claiming to be the "Colorless King." Since this case is a problem between clans and the police intervention does not make sense, they did not denounce it and they report that those who took the body was "Homura". The report states that "Homura" will use all of his strength to pursue him after all. She knows that "Scepter 4" cannot be used in places where it is useless, but "Homura" goes after the criminal on his own and does not require any cooperation from "Scepter 4".

Kusanagi said it terribly clerical and one-sided. He barely answered Awashima's words. Kusanagi reaction remained the same whether he called as "Kusanagi Izumo" deputy director of "Homura" to "Scepter 4", or as "Kusanagi-kun" and her acquaintance to Awashima Seri.

When he hung up the phone, Awashima immediately manipulated the PDA, took off her garment and put on her underwear while calling out to the "King" and "Head of Scepter 4".

Despite arriving late at night, Reisi Munakata, the head of the office, responded with a single call.

"What's happen?"

"There was a report from Izumo Kusanagi, the executive member of 'Homura'. Tatara Totsuka, an executive of 'Homura', was assassinated by someone claiming to be the 'Colorless King'."

Awashima made a simple statement, inserting a jacket between her shoulder and face and pulling the sleeves into her uniform.

Munakata replied, "I understand."

"We will call members on an emergency call. Please meet at the base immediately."

"Yes!"

When the call ended, Awashima was already well dressed in her uniform. To finish, she quickly tied her tousled hair in front of the mirror, fixed it with a hair clip, put on her boots, and left the room.

As she hurries down the hall, Awashima feels the rush of blood close to her heart.

A member of the clan dies. That's sad. She also experienced it in "Scepter 4". However, if the criminal becomes another "King", a clan war is inevitable. Furthermore, Tatara Totsuka is surely the oldest member of the clan with Suoh and Izumo Kusanagi.

Remembering Kusanagi's voice on the phone, when she entered the captain's office of “Scepter 4”, which was adjacent to the bedroom, she was led into the twister due to the commotion that might occur. Munakata and the members of the special affairs team were already prepared.

Awashima bowed to Munakata, who was sitting in the office, and looked briefly at the faces of the hurried members. After thinking that Fushimi was missing, the door opened at the same time with a loud bang.

Saruhiko Fushimi, who has entered the office, said with a sulky look that the "Homura" executive was killed.

The eyes with black rimmed glasses and slightly long bangs carry a somber light. She has never seen Fushimi in a good mood, but today he seemed more frustrating than ever.

Fushimi is a young man with a unique past who has changed from "Homura" to "Scepter 4."

He lacks coordination, but he has a lot of power to make up for it, and although he is still 19 years old, he is at number 3 on "Scepter 4."

"Scepter 4", which plays the role of a police force against the Strains, and "Homura", which started from a street gang, are conflicting organizations that collide frequently. What happened to Fushimi's turn, Awashima doesn't know the detailed circumstances and never felt the need to know in particular.

However, she was deeply impressed by how he received the news that the "Homura" executive with whom he had been involved was assassinated.

Munakata bypassed the members and began to explain the current situation.

Shortly after receiving the news from Awashima, Munakata had contacted the police and made the minimum necessary adjustments.

Police had already launched an initial investigation after receiving a report from the general public that heard the shot, and had also obtained sightings of men carrying what appeared to be the body. However, Munakata received notice that the right of investigation was moved to "Scepter 4" and that the police would only deal with the backup because it was a "male case" involving a person with special abilities. Police investigations have stopped.

Fushimi irritated his hair in front of Munakata, who insisted that they conduct an investigation.

"Isn't this dangerous? If it goes wrong..."

"Yes, we cannot do bad things. We will catch the criminal."

Fushimi's words were accepted and Munakata said in a rejecting tone.

"We cannot let criminals who get out of order and commit crimes go unchecked, and we cannot afford to ignore a private sentence that could involve hundreds of thousands of unrelated people."

Awashima took a breath in the current crisis that was clearly declared by Munakata.

Suoh wants to kill the "Colorless King". It was a possible future, where Awashima tried not to look ahead, feeling what would happen if he killed the King due to the instability of Suoh's Weissmann deviation.

Awashima reconsidered Munakata. The orderly "Blue King" did not disturb his calm and graceful face, his eyes beyond his glasses were calm, but his feeling was not always the same.

"Let's find the criminal. In our cause, without cloudiness."

They all corrected their attitude and welcomed Munakata's statement.

Awashima casually stopped next to Fushimi and walked side by side as they moved to their respective posts.

"Totsuka Tatara, who was killed, what kind of person was he in "Homura"?"

She asks Fushimi in a calm tone. She thought that he wouldn't reply deeply if he was astonished, but Fushimi looked at Awashima, and replied without emotion.

“He was a non-combatant. He mainly played the role of turning situations well, such as taking care of the education of newcomers or dealing with problems from his colleagues. Usually, Izumo Kusanagi was in charge of negotiations with the outside, but there were times when Totsuka was good at correctly engulfing the opponent in smoke and deceiving them."

Does it have a purpose to respond only with the performance without touching the personality? Awashima looked at Fushimi's profile. After all, his emotions don't show up there, but she felt that his always pale cheeks were paler than usual, probably because he woke up at dawn or because of the content of the news.

"Suoh Mikoto is…"

Awashima muttered as she recalled the "current crisis" she told Munakata.

"Even if he knew he would repeat the tragedy of 13 years ago, would he kill the 'Colorless King'?"

Nobody knows Suoh like Awashima. Awashima, the first member of the Munakata clan, was alongside Munakata when he first collided with Suoh. At that moment, Suoh laughed at Munakata's persuasion and concessions and removed his fangs. Facing Awashima, Munakata, who was always calm, disturbed his feelings at the situation of the fire beast or the disaster of the human form.

She believes that he is a terrifying man who has a violent orientation and destructive power. Awashima couldn't qualify that man, that even Munakata couldn't understand, he was immeasurable.

“The role of Tatara Totsuka. I think there was also an aspect like Suoh's security device."

Fushimi said bluntly. In the end it was a completely self-talking tone.

Before Awashima answered anything, Fushimi suddenly left Awashima.

++++++++++

A shot sounds.

The sound he doesn't know how many times, Kusanagi heard at the bar. The images taken by the old camera of Totsuka are converted into data and now played back on a personal computer. The video data was sent to the PDA of all the members of Homura to report the face of the criminal.

Seeing the images of his friend being killed over and over again gave him the feeling of falling asleep in his chest, but when anger and sadness find a place in his heart, those emotions are felt. No more irrational fuss. It may be okay to say that you are used to it.

Hearing the criminal boy make a name for himself, Kusanagi paused the video and spread the boy's hands. He intended to identify the type of weapon and follow the weapons acquisition route.

Kusanagi's PDA by his side, receives reports from "Homura" members one after another. Now they are gathering information about sightings around the building where Totsuka was killed and they go to the information store and the people behind the scenes to ask, but the results have yet to be achieved. There are many reports that members with blood on their heads were rude and had trouble, or had a fight with a member of “Scepter 4” who rushed in.

In particular, Yata, who is the leader of “Homura's” vanguard, was prone to ruin now because he was prone to getting caught in a direct path. He uses Kamamoto as an immobilizer to keep his balance, because otherwise he could hit some average person and hurt him. He was still a teenager and often played the role as his brother. Above all, it was Yata who saw Totsuka take his last breath, it can be said that it is reasonable.

As Kusanagi worked diligently, he heard footsteps descending from the second floor. Kusanagi removed his sunglasses and narrowed his eyes slightly, where the loud noise of stepping on the stairs and the soft noises of light weight, overlapping each other, made noise. "It's about time.", he mutters under his breath. Soon the other members will join as well.

Suoh and Anna appear at the bar. Anna's hand that was clinging to Suoh's back to hide in the middle, had a red flower. Anna held her in her hands, holding her to her chest.

The flowers were planned for everyone to give as a gift one by one on Anna's birthday. It seems that the rose that Totsuka gave to Suoh to give to Anna last night, was correctly given to Anna by Suoh. Kusanagi couldn't do it. The rose that could not be delivered or thrown away remains alive in a glass vase in Kusanagi's room.

Totsuka was supposed to give it to Anna when she brought that ribbon. He felt sad when he thought about the gift Totsuka prepared, but when he saw Anna holding the rose in her hand in an important way, he also thought that it was the best gift that could be given to Anna.

"Well, everything is ready."

Kusanagi stands up off to a good start.

"Anna, wait here. Mikoto..."

At the call, Suoh follows Kusanagi without answering.

As he climbed the stairs, Kusanagi looked back and saw Suoh behind him. A simple ring-shaped earring was on the cartilage part of Suoh's left ear, which follows Kusanagi after slightly dropping his line of sight. Sometimes it glowed red when it received light. Kusanagi turns forward, looking at the earring he's not used to in his ear.

"Do you think the boy who killed Totsuka is the 'Colorless King'?"

"Perhaps."

"Do you understand that between "Kings"?"

"No. It's just intuition."

Kusanagi sighed. It was a small sigh, but the exhaled emotions were heavy. The opponent is a "King". Kusanagi understood the meaning well.

"The previous seventh king, the 'Colorless King' Miwa, died in late September. After that, I don't know the story of the birth of the new 'Colorless King'. He was born in secret. We also don't know why he murdered Totsuka."

"Never mind."

It was an audible voice that he couldn't hear.

Suoh doesn't care who he is or why he did it.

Just find him and kill him. He's probably thinking that's enough.

Kusanagi said nothing more and approached Totsuka's body that was lying in Suoh's room on the second floor of the bar.

He closed his eyes and smelled the blood from Totsuka's cold body. There is not the piercing that he always wears in his left ear, just a small hole in the cartilage.

Behind Kusanagi, Suoh made a noise that lit a cigarette and the familiar smell of smoke wafted through. The smell of the cigarette slowly replaced the smell of blood.

Kusanagi looks at his friend's white eyelids, which no longer open.

The graceful face whose auditory hair casts a shadow on the blood-boiled cheek looked like a doll, and was like a stranger.

"Even though I'm always calm, I'm dying to face it."

From now on, he will be cremated with the flame of Suoh.

It was also the smoke from Homura's battle of retribution.

The body was burned near the sea.

Kusanagi and his friends, who were cheerful, spoke well and laughed at all times, lay silently and without expression in front of the coffin.

They couldn't erase Kusanagi's mood as if he was dying, his expression was so calm that he suddenly stood up and said, "Is it just a surprise?" And serious. Totsuka didn't wake up and closed his eyes with a disgusting look. The contrast between Anna's soft reddish color next to Totsuka and the pure white color of his skin, which is no longer bloody, stays strangely in the eyes.

The moment Totsuka was cremated it felt strangely quiet and calm. Only this time, everyone was filled with sadness and regret rather than anger, and Suoh seemed to be as clear as usual from the edge.

Suoh's flame of extraordinary power instantly burned the coffin that contained Totsuka, leaving nothing behind.

No Blood! No Bone! No Ash!

It was the last moment that he embodied the words of "Homura", but like the remains of Totsuka in this world, the earring that Totsuka wore shone on Suoh's left ear.

After three days.

It seems that the quiet moment of Totsuka's funeral was a dream, time was running out and it was too difficult.

"Homura" did his best to search for the criminal boy, and even the members who had little relation to Totsuka were burning with the spirit of battle and revenge.

When it's normal, there are a lot of nice people who get together and make stupid noises, and that's why they get excited like children to celebrate a girl's birthday, but once they get angry and have a fighting spirit, they burn like a flame and they don't fit in until the other part is burned.

Kusanagi usually sprinkles water on those people as needed to control them, but this time, Kusanagi lets them burn as well.

Using all kinds of information networks and some rough means, he was able to find out how the killer got the gun, although the whereabouts were unknown.

Kusanagi, who got the information at midnight, hurriedly returned to the HOMRA bar and made his way to the second floor room where Suoh was the first to live.

"Mikoto."

Suoh was lying on the couch in the room, lazy with a cigarette in hand. When he turned to Kusanagi, the long ash that had accumulated on the end of the cigarette fell to the ground.

"What happened?"

“I discovered the origin of the weapon that killed Totsuka. A multinational mob that wins a large business. Recently, it seems to have focused particularly on arms trafficking."

"I see."

"I need to ask the 'customer' who sold the weapon if he knows him or has a relationship with him. Muko-san doesn't speak so easily, but the time and effort of using the hands to fry is pitiful. I think I'll just take the elite around Yata and Kamamoto to the question."

"No."

Suoh with a low voice, carelessly interrupted him.

"I'm going too."

Kusanagi stared at Suoh's apparition, who said that while still in a lying limbs position, and blinked several times.

"When you go, it will be important."

"Yes."

"Even for the last few days, 'Scepter 4' has been keeping an eye on us. If you move there, maybe those guys will be out there big."

Suoh smiled.

He grabs the cigarette that has been too short, squeezes it in his fingers and extinguishes it with his own flame.

"Let me be."

In a word, Kusanagi somehow sensed Suoh's heart and sighed with a bitter smile.

“Goodbye to the plan, right? It's weird, but if you call, you can gather members right now."

“No, tomorrow is fine. You should take Anna with you to see if he's lying."

"I agree."

When he tested the calculations for tomorrow in his head and solved the difficulty, there was a voice from behind calling him, "Kusanagi."

When he turned around, Suoh had a mocking smile and cheered at Kusanagi lightly.

"Go to sleep."

Kusanagi slightly opened his eyes, squeezed his face for about two seconds, then bent down and shook his face.

"Yes, thanks."

"You can't sleep well all the time."

"I will return that word exactly as it is."

On the contrary, it seems that there are few humans who sleep properly after the incident among the members of "Homura".

But surely, he should have slept well. From now on the situation of having to move the head and body continues. He need sleep.

The same thing happened with Suoh, but Suoh shrugged slightly at Kusanagi's words.

"If you do it now, you will be asleep."

Guessing the meaning of the word, Kusanagi frowned.

From before, Suoh was sometimes "sleeping". While sleeping, control of the power is removed and the flame escapes accidentally, burning the walls of the room. It is usually when Suoh has a nightmare. He hasn’t asked in detail about his dream, but he can imagine.

Although it is true. He thinks now it's even better.

"No matter how much you sleep; you will not sleep."

Suoh chuckled slightly when he said that he had no words to say to the ground, neither poison nor medicine.

Probably tomorrow, he will meet "Scepter 4". If Suoh moves, so will the "Blue King" Munakata.

Kusanagi thought silently, looking at Suoh's expression, thinking that that might be a good thing.

++++++++++

That day was a very cold day.

However, if she walks alongside Suoh, the cold recedes.

Anna looked at the back of Suoh, who is walking at the beginning of "Homura". In the sight of Anna, the color of his power is visible from Suoh's body.

The most beautiful red than anyone.

Suoh, who was visible to Anna, always wore a clean red. Red has a terrifying power, but it is very beautiful and warm.

Even now, Suoh's red is transmitted to Anna from the hand that holds his jacket and warms Anna.

"Ok, let's go ask."

"Sorry, Shohei! Open the door first!"

"Ok, San-chan. I've worked part-time at a pizza parlor, so I can go naturally. I'll pretend to deliver pizza, and when the other door opens, they'll attack!"

"Yata-chan, run after the signal. Don't run ahead."

"Yes."

Behind Suoh and Anna, Kusanagi and his friends make the final confirmation.

From now on, "Homura" will attack a multinational mafia office.

According to a Kusanagi survey, the weapon that killed Totsuka appears to be a modified pistol sold by the mob. The criminal boy is unlikely to be a member of the mob, but it would be a great clue if there was a firearms trade between the mob and the boy.

Anna had a reason to accompany this storm. Anna has the ability to see through everything. Even if the other person is reluctant to give out information, Anna can reveal the lies and secrets.

Suoh's hand was clutching the lid of the lighter he had, playing with a clicking sound. In this way, Suoh's strong emotions do not flow towards Anna even when he is close to her. Suoh's emotions sank deep into Suoh, and the surface even seemed to calm down.

Suoh flips the lighter with the lid open and places it near the cigarette still in his mouth. There was a little noise.

Suoh turned around and looked at Kusanagi. Kusanagi cleared his eyes, followed by Suoh from behind and slightly raised his hand to greet him.

"Good, go ahead. Mikoto, come as slow as possible."

When Kusanagi said that, he passed Suoh's side and advanced, Yata and his colleagues bowed slightly to Suoh and continued.

Suoh and Anna became the only two to part with Homura's people, who were moving fast.

Anna takes a red marble out of her pocket.

She often uses this marble as a vehicle when using her sensitive abilities.

Anna looks at the monochrome world through red marbles. Suddenly, she saw small snowflakes fluttering from the sky.

Anna looks up at the sky. It was starting to snow. Small snowflakes fall in the wind as they dance. No wonder it's cold. It's cold today, like that night Totsuka died.

"Mikoto."

When Anna called softly, Suoh looked at Anna. Suoh's left ear glows red with the earring.

"Are you going to kill him?"

In response to Anna's question, Suoh makes a selfish smile.

"It's not that good."

Anna pursed her lips tightly and concentrated on her hand that was holding Suoh's jacket.

"Just do what you want to do."

Suoh's steps remain the same, slowly, but in a straight line without hesitation.

++++++++++

Sitting next to a mob member who was shaking after being beaten by Yata and his friends, Kusanagi was smoking slowly.

On the floor of the spacious mafia office, who had been drunk, there were men rolling on the floor after “Homura's” attack.

Sitting next to Kusanagi, a member of the mob staring with his swollen eyes, at his comrades sprawled on the ground. Kusanagi brings the image projected on the PDA closer to his eyes.

"So, this is the guy we are looking for…”

Speaking to a foreign mobster in English, he points out the image of a boy claiming to be the "Colorless King" who killed Totsuka.

"Look the gun he has. It's from your place. Don't you know anything about it?"

The mob executives just flinch and don't respond. The weapons they brought to this country, modified and distributed, killed Totsuka. They needed to be remembered carefully.

Kusanagi put his arm around the back of the couch where the mob member was sitting, and he spoke so low and close that his breath was very close to his face.

"Relax and take your time to remember."

At that moment, a roar was heard. Dust enters through the entrance that Kamamoto broke during the attack. It seems that more tough customers have arrived.

Kusanagi smirked. He wanted to shake it some more, but the King had already arrived.

A heavy step was heard from the dust. Suoh stands in a relaxed look, hidden behind him, a pretty girl looks uncomfortable in this place.

"King!" Yata, Kamamoto and other members of "Homura" bowed at the same time.

"It's early, Mikoto."

Kusanagi says that, the lower part of his eyebrows are lowered. Suoh paused for a moment as if he had come to the neighborhood for a walk.

Anna stepped out from behind Suoh's waist, and when she noticed the shaking member next to Kusanagi, she hurried to run.

A mafia man with a swollen face and a nosebleed looked scared at a doll-like girl. Perhaps another kind of fear was felt in the appearance of the girl who appeared in the middle of such a disaster.

Anna took a red marble out of her pocket and hung it in front of her left eye.

She is a Strain with unique abilities before she was a member of the Red Clan. Her eyes communicate with various things like the past and the future, distant places and human hearts, and "see" by her total feeling. There is no such thing as looking at the thought of a scared man. If it's still hard to see, just push a little harder and try to uncover the hidden stuff.

However, Anna, looking into the mafia man's eyes through the marbles, simply lowered her arm.

"He does not know it."

Anna's words spread an air of disappointment among the members of "Homura". There are no leads on the criminal. Although some sighs ended, Suoh seemed not to care and said in a low voice.

"Let's go."

Suoh turned his back on him slightly and started walking.

Unfortunately, the members of "Homura" chase after him, and Kusanagi also offers a sincere apology by raising a hand towards the crushed mob and continues.

Suoh did not use the regular entrance and exit, and hit the wall protruding from his body slightly on the nearest wall and made a large hole, and got out of there. It's exciting.

"Mikoto-san, Kusanagi-san."

Fujishima and Eric, who are the "Homura" members who were watching, run down the hall.

"The boys in blue are coming. It seems that riot police are also deployed on the first and second floors of the building."

Behind Fujishima's report, Eric also says with a strange face. "The "Blue King" is also coming out. It only hits the mafia, it's an overdone team."

"I'm sorry. Right now, the Blues should want to stop us, even if we push a bit. Normally we wouldn't squeeze as much as we did a bit of force to ask at the yakuza shop, but this time we want to catch ourselves the hard way. The harm to the general public by people with powers is a great cause for the Blues due to the violation of accord 120."

"Agreement?" Yata greatly distorted her youthful face.

"The damage to the general public was just the wall that flew off, right? If the Blues get in the way, let's attack!"

Kusanagi shrugged, with Yata's breath at his side, and put his hand on Anna's shoulder, which was attached to Suoh's back, and gently pushed her towards Fujishima and his friends.

"Anna, evacuate with Fujishima and Eric. It's going to be difficult."

Anna gently approached Fujishima and others, but looked at Suoh with concerned eyes. Suoh doesn't look at Anna, but starts walking again.

Kusanagi smiles and looks at his back, and puts his hand gently on Anna's head and follows Suoh.

A red flame arises again from Suoh's body and deflects. The flame breaks the wall of Suoh's hand slightly like chocolat and opens a path. Apparently, it seems that the structure of the building is completely ignored and a hole is drilled in the desired location.

Maybe he has settled on a horizontal route, or maybe he just wants to spit out the flames swirling around his body.

When he went down to the second floor, Suoh burned the wall again. A red, tsunami-like flame penetrates the wall easily and the heat melts nearby metal. The flames in Suoh still burned so that he couldn't calm down, a loud sparkling noise crackled under Suoh's feet, who stomped on the ground.

Behind the hole in the wall that Suoh opened was an entrance hall. As Fujishima said, riot police stationed with gear and a duralumin shield attached. However, they show clear confusion in the face of Suoh's flame and heat.

In the entrance to the first floor, there were people dressed in blue uniforms and hanging their swords at their waists. Unlike the riot police, they stand their ground against Suoh's flames.

"The Blues!"

Yata, who recognized their existence, released a scathing voice. Kusanagi smiled slightly to make it seem intimidating at best.

"Scepter 4" has arrived. What will you do, Mikoto?"

Suoh looked at "Scepter 4" from the second floor of the colonnade and laughed slightly.

A special task force, an elite group of "Scepter 4", is side by side, and Seri Awashima, the Lieutenant who is familiar with Kusanagi, is in charge of that.

And they are followed by Reisi Munakata, the fourth "King", the "Blue King".

Munakata watches silently, looking at Suoh from the other side of the lens of his glasses.

Suoh also silently looked at Munakata and said in a low voice.

"Burn them."

Yata thrusts his fist at the command of his "King". Led by Yata, who inspires with "Let's do it!", Kamamoto, Akagi, Bando, etc., responded like members of "Homura", raising their fists and raising their voices.

"No Blood! No Bone! No Ash!"

At the same time that he heard the voice of the “Homura” members, Suoh gently jumped over the railing with his hand in his pocket and jumped into the entrance hall on the first floor.

The intense red light bleeds and overflows from Suoh's body, who lands and stands up. It rages like a beast unleashed, swirling and swelling throughout the lobby.

The flame burns the wall, breaks the window glass and goes out.

The flame ran across the ceiling and the high heat caused the lights to fall to the floor and melt like butter.

Facing the raging flame, Reisi Munakata, the "Blue King," did not waver. A harsh blue light also overflows from Munakata's body, forming a dome-shaped wall of light that blocks Suoh's flames and protects himself and his men.

Suoh also smiled deeply at Kusanagi behind him.

Suoh's strength relaxes even more and the pressure exerted by Suoh increases.

Kusanagi looked up. There is a skylight over the entrance hall of the colonnade, and sunlight shines on it. The sky, which had been flashing with snow, was regaining blue sky now, but a red light was shining through the blue sky.

The red light that explodes in the sky swells as it distorts space, and a huge sword appears in the center.

It is a sword of Damocles.

A symbol of that person's royal authority and power status.

Suoh's sword of Damocles was huge, but it was cracked and crumbling.

"Ok."

Munakata pulled up his glasses and said.

"Control the sword with the sword. There are no clouds in our cause."

"Everyone, draw your swords!"

Awashima orders her subordinates in response to Munakata's cheerful comments.

The members of the Blue Clan, members of "Scepter 4," dressed in blue uniforms, lined up in a row, drawing their swords fluidly along with their names.

"Akiyama, Batto!"

"Benzai, Batto!"

"Kamo, Batto!"

"Domyoji, Batto!"

"Enomoto, Batto!"

"Fuse, Batto!"

"Goto, Batto!"

"Hidaka, Batto!"

Munakata, standing vertically and facing a forest of white swords, also placed his left hand on his sword sheath.

"Munakata, Batto!"

With that voice like a key, the saber opened and Munakata drew his sword in a beautiful manner. A sword white glossy leaf appears and looks up at the sky.

At the same time, the space next to Suoh's red sword of Damocles distorted and the blue sword of Damocles appeared.

Munakata unleashes his power. The barrier, "Sanctum", emitted by the "King" unfolds, and the blue light escaping from Munakata and his clansmen attacks Suoh. Suoh played the blue power with his own Sanctum without making a slight move.

Kusanagi jumps onto the railing, follows Suoh, and jumps to the first floor of the entrance hall. Followed by Yata and Kamamoto, the Red Clansmen who were behind Suoh.

Suoh and Munakata's centrally emitted red and blue powers collide and conquer.

It was Suoh with a slight smile who broke that balance.

Suoh spins the flame around his body with his hands in his pocket and slams it towards Munakata and "Scepter 4".

Munakata took off Suoh with sharp eyes, strengthened the exit of the blue barrier and reached for the fierce flame. Munakata's hair flutters in the hot air.

"Fu!"

With a little spirit of encouragement, Munakata waved the saber sideways. The flames that Munakata accepted and repelled are pushed towards Suoh and "Homura".

Kusanagi and others flew back slightly to avoid it, and Suoh was exposed to his own flames as if he was exposed to the breeze.

Suoh's flame gently melts around the body, turning into hot air.

Suoh leaned down and jumped like a beast. Break the barriers of blue power, attack Munakata and wield a fist with fire.

Munakata's sword flashes, hits Suoh's fist and plays with them. The sword and the fist that possess the power of the "King" are equivalent weapons.

Suoh laughs. The flame flutters over Munakata, and Munakata rejects Suoh's attack as if he is fighting with a sword.

Thinking it was a brilliant bullfight, Kusanagi smiled brightly, wondering if he could call his “King” bull.

"Mikoto-san! We too...!"

Yata, who was excited about the blood, showed that he had jumped before the battle between Suoh and Munakata, but Kusanagi raised his hand slightly and stopped him.

"But don't move. Don't let go."

Awashima, the member of the blue clan holds the barrier with her sword raised. Even if a clan member plunges into the battle between the kings, they will be annihilated.

Further…

(In any case, this is a sham.)

Kusanagi, with a complicated feeling, continued looking at the "King" who was fighting.

Munakata repels the flames emitted from Suoh's body with his blue sword.

"Suoh Mikoto. I understand the feeling for the death of a member of the clan. But we cannot forgive an audience so upset that it could harm people, much less retaliation that could involve unrelated citizens.''

"I don't even want anyone to forgive me!"

Suoh says that laughing and kicking. Munakata brought his sword upright and linked his left hand to the peak of the blade to catch the kick. The flame protrudes from the kicking foot and tries to swallow Munakata.

Munakata's graceful face was slightly distorted, and he could see a small amount of irritation mixed with calm.

"Do you know the state of your sword?"

The end of Munakata's words turned harsh, and the eyes on the back of the glasses sharpened to lift Suoh off. As if angry at Suoh who raised the tip of his mouth, Munakata thrust his saber with force and flew away from Suoh.

The powers of red and blue collide violently for a moment and spark.

Suoh bounced and was thrown through the air, and when he made a revolution in the air, he landed in front of Kusanagi and the others.

Munakata also slid across the ground in reaction and came down in front of Awashima and his friends. A trace from the sole of Munakata's shoe rubbed against the ground, kicking up friction heat smoke.

Munakata, who had been irritated for a moment when he rebuilt himself, returned to his cool and calm expression, and when he repositioned his position, he put the sword in its sheath.

Looking at Munakata, who was holding the sword in front of the enemy, Suoh shrugged slightly, but did not provoke further and held back the flame he carried.

Munakata approached while stomping on the ground in his military shoes, and stopped in front of Suoh.

"I'll detain you under Settlement 120. Do you have any objections?"

Munakata asks a question.

Alongside Kusanagi, Yata is taking off against Munakata in a hostile manner. Kusanagi casually appeared in front of Yata to prevent him from attacking.

Suoh laughed, her voice slightly leaking.

"But that's not true. Well, take care of me."

Suoh presented Munakata with both fists, just as a sinner would admit his sin and surrender.

Kusanagi closed his eyes for a moment, then immediately opened them and ordered in a low voice to the impressive and disappointed Yata.

"Homura", retired."

Suoh was held back by "Scepter 4." If it was Suoh's choice, then with such a "King" in place, they followed the choice of Kusanagi, who is Suoh's second in command.

++++++++++

An attack on a multinational mafia office by "Homura" and a collision between "Scepter 4" and "Homura" in the building where the office was located. After reporting the damage and further processing caused by him, Fushimi lowered the tablet displaying the report and looked at Munakata sitting on a chair in his office with messy eyes.

"Still, it was a bag that carried a lot of problems."

Munakata smiled in response to Fushimi's displeasure.

"Uncomfortable luggage is uncomfortable to put anywhere. It should at least be stored in a place that has the ability to handle it."

Munakata naturally understands that Suoh was restrained by "Scepter 4" without resistance and the members who were in the underground prison of "Scepter 4" were scared by him.

Fushimi frowned.

“Only the Captain will have the ability to handle it. As long as you have Suoh held in the basement, you won't be able to take care of him all the time."

"Yes, but I can't leave he on the streets."

Fushimi returned his gaze with a complicated expression. He was originally a member of "Homura". Both the "Red King" and the old friends have something to think about.

“If Suoh Mikoto gets out of control when I'm away, please prioritize the safety of the members over repression. Awashima-kun is too responsible, so I entrust it to you, Fushimi-kun."

Fushimi said reluctantly: "...I understand." Munakata thinks it's cute that he shows his emotions.

"Then, while still paying attention to "Homura's" movement, look for the assassin who is known as the "Colorless King"."

Munakata gets up and walks to the door.

"Where are you going, Captain?"

"I'm going to see the problem luggage."

After smiling at Fushimi and leaving the office, Munakata erased his expression and headed for the underground warehouse of the barracks.

The “Scepter 4” underground depot is a place to temporarily detain those who commit a crime.

The power possessed by a Strain, which appears spontaneously without being empowered by a "King", has various powers, including its strength, and this underground reservoir is made quite strict to maintain them.

As Munakata walks in the cold underground and approaches the entrance to the detention center, the sensor reads Munakata's iris and the lock is released. Passing through several automatic lattice doors and walk to the desired cell.

All doors have multiple electronic locks and are equipped with a Strain control device, and it is basically impossible to break them with powers. Also, in case of an emergency, there are escape prevention measures, in which the blinds also have the effect of suppressing powers in multiple layers, but all of them will be like paper boats if the King gets serious. It's an order of magnitude less powerful than the King's power, and it's an S-type that's great for anyone.

So that power comes with great responsibility. Nevertheless…

Munakata was left alone on his chest and stopped in front of a single cell.

In that dark cell, a red-haired man was lying on his bed with his back to him.

Munakata opens the cell door and enters.

A red-haired man, Suoh, a "dangerous baggage" that "Scepter 4" brought to his headquarters, was sleeping comfortably. Sleep peacefully, despite the inconvenience of having humiliating handcuffs on his hand that stifles his power.

Munakata was a man who had little emotional influence from the beginning, but only before Suoh. When he faced this guy, he got mad.

Munakata grabbed Suoh's sleeping head with one hand, lifted it, and slammed it against the wall.

A dull sound echoed through the cell, and Suoh opened his eyes, "Hm?" He doesn't look good.

"Oh, it's you."

With a face that looks like a yawn, Suoh looks at Munakata with only his eyes, his body slammed against a concrete wall.

"Suoh Mikoto. I'll get straight to the point."

Munakata sank his emotions and silently cut the matter off.

“Your Weissmann deviation is already close to the limit. If the sword of Damocles falls, it will be the reincarnation of the crater of Kanto. If you want to get more out of the Dresden Slate, I must kill you."

Only the facts are listed.

The Weissmann deviation shows the stability of the King's power. Abuse of power, lack of balance of spirit and interference of power with other kings, in particular, having a "King" kill another "King". It endangers the Weissmann deviation, which ultimately leads to the fall of Damocles, where the sword of Damocles, the symbol of the "King" falls.

The consequences of that are explained 13 years ago, when the southern region of Kanto disappeared and left a huge crater.

However, Suoh leaned against the wall, and said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Suppressing the urge to hit him, Munakata put his hand on the side of Suoh's face and looked down at him.

"I am telling you to renounce the throne."

Originally, Suoh's Weissmann deviation was dangerous. The power was great, but it had instability as if it had an excess of power, perhaps because it was not used for a definite purpose.

Originally an unsuitable man to be "King". No, maybe he's a man who can't handle the power of the "Red King". Like the predecessor "Red King", Kagutsu Genji, who died by destroying the sword of Damocles, causing destruction, ruin, and the death of seventy thousand people.

Suoh has been in the last minute so far. But now, with the death of a clan member, Suoh seems to have somehow abandoned his stability. It's like he's blaming himself, but he seems to be running straight to ruin. The fall of Damocles is inevitable if he kills a "King" in this state.

For Suoh to stay alive without causing harm, there is no choice but to stop wielding the King's power and live a quiet life.

However, Munakata himself understood that Suoh could not choose that path.

Suoh smiled a bit embarrassed, as if to be surprised.

"What you say is still not interesting, Munakata."

"Then you have to figure out how to stop for the rest of your life."

Suoh smiled slightly. Looking at Munakata with a provocative look.

"There is only one. One way to keep me locked up all the time... and that is if you, Munakata, the "Blue King", take care of me directly. In this room for twenty-four hours. If I start to wreak havoc, you will use all your power to hold me down."

Suoh's eyes glow dark red, and a red aura rises from Suoh's body like a haze of heat.

Only a "King" can control another "King". That was what Fushimi had pointed out earlier. Including that Munakata, who has the power, couldn't stay in the same place all the time.

“The fact of having to breathe the same air as you makes me sick. And unfortunately I am too busy. I can't just get involved only with you."

Munakata returns to his posture and turns his back to Suoh.

"Sorry, Munakata."

Suoh says it in a voice that can't get serious or play. Munakata comes out of the cell and looks back.

Suoh was rolling in bed again and starting to sleep. His shoulders wrapped in a white t-shirt move slightly every time he breathes.

"Me too, Suoh."

Munakata's true intention spilled out and he didn't reach Suoh, and the cell door closed to separate the two.

++++++++++

Akagi Shouhei sat on the counter seat in front of the cafe's large window and vaguely looked at the crossroads in front of Shizume-cho station.

He couldn't drink the iced coffee he bought, starts sweating on the surface of the plastic cup.

Akagi has been a member of “Homura” for about two years and is relatively new among the main members who often come and go to the “HOMRA” bar. However, two years, which is shorter than life in high school, was enough time for Akagi to decide on "Homura" as his place and to connect with his friends.

Totsuka Tatara who was killed also had the role of caring for a newcomer, so when he arrived at “Homura”, Akagi was cared for in various ways. He was a strange person with a smile and a fluffy atmosphere all the time, but he thinks “Homura” was always filled with a happy atmosphere.

Akagi will never forgive anyone who has killed a friend. Since that incident, Akagi runs every day looking for clues about the criminal. However, the result has not yet been achieved.

The other day, they went to visit the mafia office that sold the gun to the murderer, but in the end they couldn't get a powerful clue, on the contrary, Suoh and the others collided with "Scepter 4" who arrived at the scene.

"Ah, now!"

Akagi was alone and scratched his head on his cap.

Suoh was captured by Munakata, the "Blue King". Although he had even dropped the sword of Damocles, Suoh did not fight seriously for some reason, but he held out both hands to Munakata, who claimed he was breaking the agreement, and was arrested.

That caused a great commotion in "Homura".

Suoh is in the heart of "Homura". What happens? That shook "Homura". Of course, Kusanagi, who is number two, is in charge of carrying out his own activities, and it was thought that Suoh had been arrested, but...

Akagi, who was in a bad mood, sighed once more and looked out the window.

Although it is a weekday, the front of the station is crowded with people.

Looking at the people waiting for the signal at the crossing, Akagi stared wide-eyed.

He hastily pulled his PDA out of his pocket and pointed it at the person waiting for the signal. Repeat enlarging the person who appears small, until the face is clearly visible.

"Yes."

That boy.

The boy who pointed a gun at Totsuka Tatara and pulled the trigger to take his life. Unlike the ghastly expression at the time, he looks like a harmless person and looks harmless, but this is definitely a characteristic.

The criminal who they have not been able to find a clue of so far, proudly walks down the main street of Shizume-cho, which is the territory of "Homura".

Well, Akagi bit his teeth, quickly moved his finger and sent a photo of the boy and his current position to his partner Saburota.

Akagi hurried to follow the boy's figure out the window so as not to lose sight of him.

When he left the store, just as the traffic light changed, the killer boy crossed the crosswalk. He had a red Japanese umbrella on his shoulder and a kitten on the other shoulder.

Akagi only sees the boy's rear view and follows his back as he hits a person.

The boy walked through the crowd without seeming to care about the killer and finally entered the "Kadamaya" fireworks store.

Akagi hides in the shadows and waits for the boy to come out.

When he made the concession, a motorcycle came up behind him and stopped next to Akagi.

"Kamamoto-san."

Rikio Kamamoto, a handsome man with a lot of fat accumulated around his belly, saw Akagi. He gives him a helmet and a bat.

“Get in behind. Yata-san will come here immediately. Hit it in the middle."

Akagi clenched his expression, pulled on his helmet and held his weapon tightly.

++++++++++

Kusanagi leaned against the dirty wall in the back alley and lit a cigarette.

With the torch in one hand, he instructs the members of "Homura" to lay siege to the criminal.

Smoke deeply and exhale slowly and long.

A mysterious boy who has killed Totsuka Tatara and claims to be the Seventh King, the "Colorless King". Kusanagi has no idea what he's thinking. However, no matter what the speculation is, "Homura" will see to it that he receives the damage he deserves.

When he was standing while smoking, he hears an angry familiar voice and some footsteps from the alley. They have been deployed so that he does not escape where he runs, but the boy seems to have chosen this alley with Kusanagi.

The boy who jumped out of the alley had a slender and cute appearance that looked like a girl. The appearance of rushing and running can only be seen by a good citizen who is chased by a bully, but Kusanagi, who has seen that terrifying video over and over, knows how terrifying his face can be.

"Sorry, get out of the way!"

The boy noticed that Kusanagi was on the way and made a panicky voice.

Kusanagi slowly inhales another puff of smoke and focuses his attention on the smoke coming out of his mouth. The power of the Red Clan member received from Suoh in his body is linked to the small fire at the tip of the cigarette, and Kusanagi's flame is reflected there.

At the moment, he doesn’t control the killing intent that silently erupted.

Kusanagi touches a cigarette with his thumb and tosses it into the air. The cigarette spun, and a small tip of the fire bulged out enormously in accordance with Kusanagi's will, turning into a ball of fire and splitting, flying towards the boy like a bullet.

The child stiffens and stops.

If he were the "Colorless King", he would avoid this kind of attack. When Kusanagi thought that he should throw away his innocent boy mask, a young man dressed in a black coat leapt from the sky and landed between Kusanagi's fireball and the boy.

The black clothed youth deflected all the fireballs with the palm of his right hand holding a transparent power. Furthermore, Yata, who was chasing the boy, is drawn into his hand in an instant with the power of his right hand, and silenced is knocked down with a single elbow strike.

A power like a transparent hand that compresses space and grasps distant objects, a Japanese sword worn at the waist, about 20 years old, a long black mane attached like a dog's tail. Kusanagi knew a person with these characteristics.

A young man dressed in black holds the criminal boy and quickly walks away from Kusanagi and his friends.

Kusanagi and the others, who had their prey abducted in front of them, looked in the direction in which they were disappearing.

"Damn! Who is that guy?"

Yata squeezed his elbow-struck belly and stood up, furious.

“He's the 'Black Dog', Kuro Yatogami. It has been troublesome again."

Kusanagi said, picking up his PDA.

"Well, we'll have to use the next move."

++++++++++

"Hi, it's a good night. I came to photograph the night view, what are you doing in such a place? I am Totsuka Tatara, and you?"

The sound of gunfire rang out and the cameraman, Totsuka Tatara, fell. Then the camera that fell to the ground moves and faces the person who shot. The person was still a teenager.

"I am the Seventh King, the 'Colorless King'. Waiting for people here. It's a good night. Oh, sure it's a good night!"

Awashima was watching the image on the monitor in the "Scepter 4" briefing room.

Among the members who are upset by unexpected situations, Fushimi says without changing his sullen expression.

"The urban network in Tokyo is hijacked."

"Specify the font!"

"I'm doing it now."

Fushimi's euphoric attitude isn't a compliment, but he's probably already working on it.

In Tokyo, mainly in city chains, electronic devices ranging from visions of street lamps, televisions and even personal PDAs were temporarily stolen and video of the murder was released.

The one who did it was "Homura". There is no doubt that it will be considered as a strategy of that clever person, Izumo Kusanagi.

"To catch the criminal, does he expose the death of his friend?"

Awashima was alone with a small, low voice that no other human could hear.

This is the first time that "Scepter 4" has obtained this image because "Homura" refused to investigate the case with "Scepter 4" and did not pass any information.

While it will be a great lead to proceed with the investigation, matters related to sovereignty should be kept secret only from those with powers, and that form of informing the general public is overlooked. Cannot be. It was a headache when she thought about canceling the videos that had flown and stopping the release to the media. Either way, they will soon have to ask the "Golden King" for help.

Above all, Awashima was terribly frightened by "Homura's" unwillingness to try to pursue the criminal, even after revealing the vision of how his ally was killed.

Domyouji, a young middle-aged staff member in the Information Room, looked at the screen stopped by the criminal with a pistol and said, "He is saying 'Colorless King', but he is a child like a high school student!" He is horrified.

Awashima once again looked at the face of the mystery boy who claims to be the "Colorless King".

No matter what, they have to find and catch him before "Homura".

Before the raging flame becomes irreversible.

#k #k project #k the first story

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geminimoon14 · 4 years ago

Text

Sanders Sides Sci-fi Au

This is my own fanfiction about the Sides in a Star-Trek reminiscent setting. Logan is the only human on board and the others are aliens. This universe is a way for me to branch out from my fantasy style of writing practice scientific writings.

AO3 Link: Welcome Aboard the USS Sanders

Logan hated these sorts of missions. They were always meant to be interesting but no, this time the exploration mission involves hostile lifeforms. Of course as the Chief Science Officer he ought to know better but this was completely unprecedented.

The ship had been left adrift for who knows how long before Captain Roman Prince and his crew came across it. Scans had suggested no signs of life onboard. Roman’s Head of Security, Virgil Storm, had voted to leave it be in case the danger was still present.

Dr. Logan Croft had offered to go on board, as the lead scientist, with a partner to investigate the wreckage and find the cause of abandonment. The ship’s medic Dr. Patton Hart offered to go with in case there were hidden survivors that needed treatment. Hesitantly, Roman granted permission for the excursion as long as they followed procedure.

They were quickly outfitted and on their way with a few extra suits for any survivors and a pair of Stun Pistols for any hostiles. It was a quick trip that seemed longer because Virgil kept checking in on them. Logan had Patton handle the calls while he focused on docking the ship.

Patton was quick to reassure Virgil, “It’s just a quick trip and if anything happens one of us will call you. Promise!” Virgil played with his security badge as he asked, “You know what to do if something comes at you, right?” Logan sighed as he recited back, “‘Unholster the pistol, aim for the largest part of the threat, and pull the trigger’ we know, Virgil.” Patton gave him a disapproving look of ‘that- was-rude-and-you-need-to-fix-it’.

Logan sighed as he amended, “You were very thorough in your lessons and I am certainly grateful for that. However, the sooner we complete the excursion, the sooner we will return.” He heard Virgil take a breath and agreed, “Okay, just… be safe, okay?” Patton gave Logan a smile and answered, “Don’t worry, Virgil! We’ll be back before you know it!”

The ship was in complete disarray. Wires hung ominously overhead and the interior paneling was shredded. Debris littered the floor along with dark stains that neither man wanted to investigate.

Logan pressed a button on the side of his helmet, activating the camera, and started recording his findings. He examined the walls and recorded, “It appears as though something or someone pulled the paneling here in order to access the wiring. Further examination seems to indicate the circuitry was removed via force. Atmosphere seems safe but we will keep our helmets on in case of foreign contaminants.”

While Logan continued his investigation, Patton hung back nervously. The medic shuddered from the chill that ran down his spine at the sight of drag marks leading away from them. His freckles took on a yellow shade as fear started to creep in. There was a loud creaking noise that echoed through the hall.

Both men froze as Logan slowly drew his pistol from its holster. Patton tried to hide behind the science officer as the latter slowly moved towards the noise. The noise did not repeat itself and Logan slowly holstered his weapon.

More cautiously than before, they moved further into the ship. The dark stains grew more frequent the further they got and all the lights were powered down except for the emergency evacuation lights. The flashing orange lights and the suits camera lights were all they had to guide their path.

Logan caught sight of a door out of the corner of his eye, the sign on it reading ‘Caution: Power Center’ and the handle smeared with the same dark matter they had seen earlier. Logan approached as he murmured, “More of the substance is on the door of the ship’s power supply. Further investigation required.”

Patton flinched as Logan opened the door with a loud groan of heavy metal. The room was covered in something dark and almost fluid. Patton remained in the hall as Logan entered and remarked, “The walls and floor seem to be covered in the substance we saw earlier. Based on the consistency we can infer that it is not blood as previously believed.”

He placed a hand against the wall and watched as it rippled at the touch. Logan raised a brow curiously as he commented, “Unknown substance seems reminiscent of species-” He was cut off as a tendril of the substance wrapped around his wrist in a more coherent form. Another tendril wrapped around his torso as he let out a shout.

Patton heard the shout and called out, “Logan?! Are you okay?!” There was a crash and a few grunts in answer. The medic rushed inside in time to see the substance creep upward and a familiar helmet crash to the floor.

Patton looked up to see a mass of writhing tendrils wrapped around a struggling Logan. His helmet was off and a tentacle had wrapped itself around his mouth and throat while others held the scientist against it. Patton shrieked as he found the call button on his helmet and screamed, “Emergency! This is Dr. Patton Hart! Logan’s in danger!”

The doctor turned towards the creature, drawing his stun pistol with freckles flashing red for a moment, and ordered, “Let him go or else!” Logan winced as the tentacles tightened their grip and a voice hissed, “Surrender or I crush him!” Patton glanced between his ally and the creature before slowly returning his weapon to its holster, freckles turning yellow once more.

It lowered itself from the ceiling, dragging Logan with it, as it inquired, “Doctor? You heal?” Patton slowly nodded as he replied, “Yes, do you need help?” The creature seemed to contemplate its answer as Virgil’s voice blared through his helmet’s speaker, “Patton! Are you alright?! Answer me!”

The creature seemed to hear the call as it commanded, “Answer! Or I crush him.” Patton watched as Logan struggled to breathe for a moment before answering, “I’m here, Virgil. I’m okay for now.” The creature seemed satisfied as Virgil’s voice rang through, “We’re coming, okay. ETA of ten minutes. How’s Logan?”

Tendrils loosened a little as the creature told Patton, “You help, I let go.” Logan gave Patton an unreadable look as he told Virgil, “Logan’s okay for now. We’ve encountered another life form. I’m going to help but I’m not sure what I need to do.” There was a beat of silence before Virgil’s voice shrieked, “What the hell?! Patton?!”

The creature laughed before gesturing with a tendril and ordering, “Follow.” Patton obeyed as he relayed, “I’m following it.” There was a distinct groan of dismay as the alien opened a door and As the creature moved it slowly took on more humanoid features until it was a human figure with tentacles coming out of its back.

Patton jumped as it cleared its throat and told the medic, “Much easier to talk like this. This is where my friend is, any tricks and I’ll enjoy tearing your friend apart.” Logan shot the humanoid a look and tried to say something through the tentacle.

It chuckled as it asked, “What was that?” The tendril around Logan’s mouth withdrew as the human answered, “That is highly unnecessary. Patton would have given assistance without the threat on my life.” The humanoid cackled before telling his captive, “Maybe but I’d rather not take chances. Never know when someone’s going to pluck out your eye so they can watch it regrow.”

Patton made a disgusted face as the creature led them to another door. The alien opened it with an echoing metal groan. The inside was dark, like where the alien had been hiding, and warm.

Patton stepped inside with a hesitant look as he called out, “Hello? My name’s Dr. Patton Hart; I’m here to help.” There was a soft groan as a voice asked, “You’re not a doctor?” At the awkward pause, the creature slapped its forehead and muttered to itself, “Duh, Remus, you forgot to tell them.” Remus turned to the medic and explained, “His species tends to speak in lies so he wants to know if you’re actually a doctor.”

Patton moved closer to the pained voice as he replied, “Yes, your friend asked for my help.” There was a soft hiss before the voice returned, “I won’t trust him then. I’m not to your right.” Patton took a moment to decipher the voice’s meaning before turning right and nearly stumbling over a body.

The injured being let out a loud moan of pain that had Patton apologizing profusely. Remus glared at the medic as his tentacles began constricting Logan. The human in question let out a choked noise as the mass of dark green tendrils tried to crush him. Patton whirled around his freckles shining a brilliant gold as he cried, “No, wait! It was an accident! Please stop!”

The body next to him reached a scaled hand out and ordered, “Remus, don’t stop.” The tentacles stopped but maintained the same pressure until the other told him, “I don’t still need treatment, do kill the doctor’s friend.”

With trembling hands, Patton examined his patient. One half of them was covered in scales similar to a snake on earth with one golden eye while the other half appeared human. There was a wound on the human half, the burn around it indicated a blaster of some kind.

Remembering where he kept the regeneration pod was nearly a problem for Patton until he recalled Virgil shoving it into Logan’s backpack after filling up Patton’s. The medic bit his lip nervously as he turned to Remus and told him, “I need to get Logan’s backpack. It has something I need.”

Remus gave the medic a strange look but maneuvered Logan until his backpack was in his hands. He handed it over to Patton and shifted so he could see what the medic was doing.

The disc-shaped device was placed over the wound as Patton pressed a button in the middle. The pod emitted a bright blue glow as the wound slowly began to close. Remus watched, looking a little awed, as he questioned, “This’ll fix him?”

Patton pulled out a device and waved it over the injured alien as he answered, “As far as I can tell, he’s healing. He’ll need rest and food but other than that the regeneration pod should repair most of the damage.” The medic glanced at the scientist still trapped as he asked, “What happened here anyway?”

His patient huffed out a bitter laugh as he informed the medic, “Wasn’t a bunch of asshole’s experimenting on people. Remus did not break out and utterly destroy them. They didn’t set off an explosion and when I got hurt he wanted to leave me.” Patton nodded in understanding as he dug through his backpack, pulled out a protein bar and offered it to him. A scaled hand took it eagerly and tore the packaging open.

Remus smiled as he inquired, “Feeling better, Jan-Jan?” Patton turned to his patient as he asked, “Is that your name?” The injury was nearly gone when the alien answered, “I’m not, Remus. And my actual name isn’t Janus.” Patton’s freckles lit up with a bright blue as he held out a hand and told him, “Nice to meet you, Janus! I’ve already told you but I’m Patton. And he’s Logan.”

He gestured over to Remus and the scientist trapped in his tentacles. Janus slowly sat up as he ordered, “Don’t let go of him. We don’t still need them.” Remus pouted as he protested, “But we need to get out of here somehow! What if the doctor tries something?!” Janus narrowed his eyes as he repeated, “Don’t let go.” Remus scoffed but started to let go of the scientist.

The door burst open as a familiar voice shouted, “Freeze!” Remus’s tentacles tightened back up as Patton threw himself over Janus. Standing there was the familiar figure of Virgil, his four eyes trained on Remus with his legs flared defensively- Logan often compared them to the kind spiders on Earth had.

Behind him was Captain Roman, stun pistol at the ready, as he declared, “By order of the captain of the USS Sanders, stand down!” Remus hissed as he turned towards the newcomers before going quiet.

Roman’s hands shook as Remus looked him over, trembling, and whispered, “Roman?” The captain flinched before he shook his head and kept his pistol aimed at Remus. His eyes softened for a moment before he spat, “You can’t trick me! Not with his face!”

Remus raised his hands in surrender as he hissed, “What did they tell you?! That I was dead?! Hah!” Roman glared, hands still unsteady, as he ordered, “Release my science officer and medic before I must use force.”

Patton looked up as Virgil directed him, “Step away, Pat. We’re leaving.” Patton’s freckles turned red as he stood up and retorted, “No, he’s my patient.” Virgil looked taken aback as he protested, “They took you and Logan hostage! Step away, Patton!”

Patton’s freckles turned an even brighter shade of red as he answered, “No! Pointing weapons at them isn’t going to help.” He turned his attention to the stand off and ordered, “Everyone stand down!” Roman and Remus glanced at the medic for a moment but returned to their stalemate.

Desperately, Patton exclaimed, “Remus, Janus still needs treatment! If you let go of Logan, I can convince the captain to help!” Remus seemed to consider for a moment but answered, “No can do! The second I let go, Roman’ll shoot, like when we played our games as kids.” Roman’s finger twitched, like he was waiting to fire, as he spat, “Enough with this farce, you fake!”

At the captain’s distress, Virgil also took aim at Remus. Logan shot Patton a look that only he would understand. Patton took a deep breath, slowly standing up, and removed his helmet. His freckles and eyes turned bright blue and his voice took on an echoey quality as he shouted, “Everyone calm down!”

A burst of energy pulsed through the room and the others went lax. Logan slipped from Remus’s grip and tumbled onto the floor bonelessly. Janus looked on in awe as the captain and Virgil dropped their pistols to the floor. Remus swayed a little but he stayed standing.

Patton let out a sigh as he gathered the weapons from the floor. He returned to Janus’s side with a sheepish grin as he apologised, “Sorry, I really don’t like doing that but Logan told me I didn’t have any other choice.” Janus looked the medic over, taking in the glowing freckles and eyes, as well as, the antennae hidden in his curls. The tips of the antennae matched the glow of his freckles and iris, previously hidden in his hair.

Janus looked over at the group, their eyes glowing with the same blue light, and asked, “What the frell are you? What did you do?” Patton rubbed his neck nervously as he answered, “I’m an Empara, I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of us. We can sense and transmit emotions to other lifeforms; we’re empaths. I hate doing it though.”

The scaled being could only nod dumly as Patton slowly dimmed the glow in the others’ eyes. The medic pulled Janus onto his back, making sure that he was not likely to fall, and warned, “I’m going to let them go, are you ready?” Janus nodded and watched as the glow from his eyes and antennae vanished and the antennae buried themselves amongst the curls once more.

Roman and Virgil shook their heads as though clearing their thoughts while Remus seemed to awaken more slowly. Logan remained on the floor, still recovering from the effects, while Patton asked, “Are you all done fighting?” Virgil and Roman turned their glares on him as they shrieked, “What was that?!”

Patton countered their glares with his own ‘paternal-disapproval-and-disappointment’ look that had become infamous on their ship. They both retracted their glares as Patton scolded, “Logan had to signal me to do it because no one was listening to reason and threatening each other! You know he doesn’t like it anymore than I do when I use it!”

Remus seemed to finally power through the remaining dregs of calm and exclaimed, “What the frell was that?!” Roman glared at him until Patton asked, “Why are you so sure that Remus is lying?” Roman bit his lip and walked a few steps away, shaking with emotion.

He slammed his fist into the wall as he whispered, “Because my brother is dead. I killed him.” Virgil’s eyes went wide as Remus scoffed and remarked, “Hate to break it to you, but those scientists fed you a load of dren. They faked my death, they used some drug to slow my hearts- personally I would have gone with being ‘torn apart by Dracitches’ but anyways. It wasn’t your fault.”

Roman seemed torn between hoping that Remus was right and the pain of believing his brother dead. Remus seemed to catch on and muttered something that made Patton’s glow turn purple with embarrassment as he hissed, “Language! There’s no need for that kind of profanity!”

To everyone’s surprise, Roman started laughing. Virgil cautiously approached, placed a hand on the captain’s shoulder, and asked, “Are you okay, Ro?” Roman’s laughter mixed with tears as he returned the phrase. Patton turned on him with a scathing glare and scolded, “Roman! I thought you knew better!”

Remus started cackling as he remarked, “Didn’t think you’d remember!” Roman, ignoring Patton’s glare, reached out to his sibling and retorted, “As if I’d ever forget our code after the punishment our mother gave us.” Virgil gave Patton a confused look before throwing his arms in the air, exasperated, and crouched beside Logan.

The human was laying there giggling as Virgil hoisted him into his arms. Logan laughed and wrapped his arms around his neck as he giggled, “You’re super strong. I wish I was strong but no.~” Virgil let out an annoyed groan as he carried the scientist over to Patton.

The Empara gave him an embarrassed look as he defended, “Logan told me to! He gave me the signal!” Virgil sighed, already accepting that their lead scientist was going to be high from the wave of emotion Patton unleashed. Janus watched the exchange from Patton’s back in confusion but saved his commentary for a more appropriate time as the human began rambling about how different Roman and Remus’s transformations were.

Virgil took his gun from Patton, who also returned Roman’s weapon, and gestured towards the door. They snatched Logan’s helmet on the way out, thankfully undamaged, and secured it.

On their way to the USS Sanders, Logan seemed to come out of his daze. Patton, having offered to take Logan and Janus in their ship, immediately jumped as Logan groaned, “I swear the effects take longer to wear off each time.” Patton smiled as he exclaimed, “You’re back! How’re you feeling?”

Logan sat straighter in his seat as he mumbled, “I will recover in time. There is some residual numbing effect from your ability.” Patton sighed as he shrugged and told him, “Sorry, I wish that it didn’t last so long on you.” Logan waved away the apology in a way that suggested that it was not the first time the human had fallen victim to Patton’s power.

Janus glanced up as he asked, “Why was I affected?” Patton smiled as he answered, “When an Empara uses that ability, we can aim it a little. I made sure to aim up so you wouldn’t get hit.” Pattom shook his head before he finished, “No telling what could have happened while you were still stabilizing.”

Janus nodded, following the explanation as best he could, and relaxed in his seat as their ship docked with the USS Sandes. Patton was quick to rush Janus to Medbay on a gurney, as well as a resistant Logan who insisted he was fine.

Patton stopped those objections with a look and Janus watched as the human’s protests died in his throat and he laid down on the floating gurney. Virgil snickered as he pushed Logan into the room and commented, “You should know better, Lo. When Pat’s in ‘Dad Mode’ you can’t stop him.”

Logan glared at him as Patton placed his hands on the human’s temples and warned, “Don’t tease Logan, Virgil. I’m trying to focus.” Virgil waved off the warning but stopped agitating the scientist.

Janus held out his hand as an invitation to Virgil as he said, “We shouldn’t start over. I’m not Janus. I’m not a hybrid of two races. I know exactly where I hail from.” Virgil accepted the hand and shook it as he offered, “Virgil, Head of Security. I’m Araneus but I guess that’s pretty obvious, huh?” He gestured to his eyes and extra legs in demonstration.

Roman entered with Remus as he sighed, “The situation has been cleared up and these two are allowed to remain with us on our voyage.” Remus chuckled as he hovered over Logan and asked, “So you’re a human? What’s it like being a Deathworlder?” Roman, Virgil, and Patton flinched as Logan huffed, “Nothing so strange as what you are thinking I’m sure.”

Roman nudged his brother and muttered something in his native language. Remus’s grin grew as he stated, “Oh, yeah. Sorry about almost strangling you. Apparently it’s ‘extremely rude’ and ‘inappropriate’ or whatever.”

Logan blinked before returning, “I accept your apology. Should you have any questions for me, I can be found in my office.” Patton scowled as he threatened, “Not for a few days or I can and will use the high-grade tranquilisers.” The human’s lips turned down as he crossed his arms and muttered, “I’m fine and have work.”

Patton glared at Roman, who immediately assured them, “I won’t make him do any work until you give the okay, Patton!” Virgil snickered as Logan groaned, Janus barely covering his laughter with a cough as Remus cheered, “Guess that means I get to spend extra time with you, Deathworlder!” Logan covered his eyes with his arm and hissed, “I will warn you now, if you disturb my circadian rhythm for your questions there will be consequences.”

Before Remus could tease, Roman whispered, “Do not do it. He knows how to make you regret ‘corporeal existence’. That’s a quote from the last frelnik who interfered with his sleep.” Remus’s eyes grew wide as he turned to the human and agreed, “Whatever you want, Doctor! Treat me like a fascinating specimen!”

Roman made a disgusted face and shoved his brother out of Medbay, exclaiming, “Well, that’s disgusting! I’ll let you rest now, Lo! Do not disobey Patton’s orders!” Janus watched the exchange with wide eyes as Virgil shrugged and told him, “Welcome aboard the USS Sanders. Chaos is the norm.”

#sander side au #sanders sides #sanders side fic #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #space

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