#title is a wip

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Over the Edge (Pre-war)

(A/N: WIP title. It's not really abuse, but wanna say that there's a very very brief moment of rough-handling of a kid. No hitting, only a brief shake to a kid the size of, let's say a 7-8 year old human. Also, we get to see Islanzadí for the first time in pre-war, with this taking place probably a month or two before The Promise and Arya's oath with Brom. She's struggling with the turmoil after the Fall, the loss of Evandar and not really having the time to mourn him due to the sudden rush of responsibility and new duties {that sounds like a theme for this bloodline huh} and she is barely keeping her head above water. Because of that, she tries to tell herself that it's okay to focus solely on her duties as queen, because, through trickle down and big picture, her doing well as queen keeps Arya safe from Galbatorix and the Forsworn. That's what she tells herself. If she believes it is up to you as the reader at this point.)

~~~~~~

MODERN INHERITANCE: OVER THE EDGE

Out of nowhere the door to the queen’s study slammed open with a horrendous bang. Däthedr, Fiolr and Islanzadí all jumped as one.

“What is the meaning of this int–” Islanzadí’s thunderous voice was immediately silenced by the equally stormy eyes that snapped to her. Despite his frail nature, Oromis’ presence filled the doorway, looming over them like a threatening anvil cloud. 

“Leave us.” The Rider’s voice held unmistakable steel. The two elf lords flicked their gazes to the queen, unsure of who was in control. Slighting one would be dangerous, though which was more threatening at the time was yet to be decided. “Leave!”

A great rumble shook the roots arrayed beneath their feet and a massive golden eye suddenly glinted outside the window overlooking the courtyard.

Däthedr and Fiolr were out of their seats and bowed just low enough to show apologetic respect before they fled, kicking up moss in their haste.

Silence but for the soft whooshing of Glaedr’s great lungs outside the walls filled the room. 

Islanzadí slowly settled back into her chair. “Can I help you, Oromis-elda?” The brittleness that accompanied her clenched teeth and the hard line of her shoulders was not masked in the slightest. Islanzadí was livid at the intrusion and far beyond angry at the subversion of her authority, in front of her advisor no less! 

“Do you have any,” Oromis paused to collect himself. His own rage was very close to boiling over. “Any inkling of just where your daughter is?” 

The queen blinked. Arya? When was the last time she had seen her? Surely not that long ago. Breakfast, probably, scampering out the door. Or did she see her in the Menoa tree while on a walk? No, that was yesterday, she had a meeting with the Council after that, so it had to be yesterday. 

A heavy stone of guilt dropped into Islanzadí’s stomach. Could she really not tell him when she last saw her own child? The days had been going by in a whirlwind, filled with meetings pushing for more resources for the border, more spellcasters to maintain the barriers, power struggles in Ceris–

Islanzadí had no earthly idea where her own daughter was.

“I…” 

Oromis reached behind him and marched into the room. “Spare me the attempt, Islanzadí.” 

A small yelp of indignation followed him, or rather, was dragged alongside him. Arya let out a half feral yowl at the Dragon Rider pulling her by one gangly arm, silverskin glowing a muted flush of pink anger at her cheeks at the unintentional roughness. 

The elfling’s hair was wild, though that was nothing new. Her braid was half undone, the tie at the base loosened. Knees scuffed, elbows bruised, knuckles scraped, pine needles stuck to her clothing with sap. Yes, that was her Arya, scowling up at her from where Oromis had planted the child in front of him with his hands on her shoulders. 

“Tell your mother.”

Arya’s scowl deepened. Stars. She looked so much like Evandar during combat when she did that. Her brows met with the same lightning pattern, jet streaks of midnight above endless emerald green. “Nothing happened.”

Another growl rattled the window hard enough to send it gliding inwards on hidden hinges. Glaedr snapped his massive jaws, a sharp crack loud enough to make the gathered elves flinch. Outside, a trio of pines juddered from the impact of his tail before he subdued the lashing.

‘Hatchling!’ His voice was thunderous in their minds. At the dragon’s mental touch Islanzadí felt the sensation of wind pushing against her body, a momentary inkling of confusion, then a fear of failure, fear of the outcome, and then…relief. And rage. ‘We have warned you!’

Against all odds, Arya snapped her own teeth, a defiant snarl rattling her thin chest. “I’m not scared of you, Glaedr!” 

The golden dragon audibly balked. That stung more than he cared to admit. Especially coming from one so small.

“What is this about?” Islanzadí snapped. That surge of fear felt through Glaedr’s memories twisted her stomach into knots. Besides the usual scrapes, though, Arya seemed unharmed. “I have work to do. You interrupted a meeting that was planned weeks in advance!”

Outside, Glaedr shifted. 

Arya bared her teeth. With a hollow mental wave of her hand to put it aside for later thought, Islanzadí noticed the girl’s canines had fallen out. When had that happened? Not too recently, it seemed. The tips of wickedly sharp ancestral teeth were already poking through, giving the child an almost comical appearance with both top canines barely coming in while the lower set were nearly level with her incisors. 

Oromis’ eyes flashed at Islanzadí’s words. His grip on Arya’s shoulders tightened. “We found your daughter after she leapt off the Crags, Islanzadí.”

Islanzadí’s heart dropped, the wind knocked from her lungs. “What?” 

‘We were flying and caught the hatchling after she jumped off the Crags of Tel’naeír.’ 

Arya…jumped from the cliffs? 

Islanzadí was around the desk in an instant and seized her only child by the arms. “What were you thinking?” There was only panic thudding in her chest, the image of a small body crumpled in the beds of pine needles flashing to her mind. “Have you gone mad?! Answer me!” 

“Islanzadí!” Oromis’ bark was sharp and swift. It was only when Arya stifled a squeak did Islanzadí realize she was shaking her. 

The queen released the elfling as if stung, hands hovering an inch away from the pink blotches blooming on silvered skin. “Arya…?” 

Arya lifted her gaze from where she had dropped it to the ground. 

Was…was that fire in her eyes?

Defiant but calm. Determined. The lanky child squared her shoulders as best she could under Oromis’ grip and met her mother’s conflicted storm of golden lightning and locked them eye to eye.

Arya’s voice was soft, deadpan. “I wanted to fly.” 

Fly. Said as if it were entirely normal for elf children to take to the skies after a quick breakfast. Islanzadí stared at her child, unsure if this was some sort of elaborate ruse to hide a darker motive, some childish cry for help, or if her daughter genuinely had planned to leap off a thousand foot cliff and sprout wings.

The queen closed her mouth, suddenly aware that her jaw was hanging open a good half inch in dumbfounded bewilderment. 

“...Fly?” 

Arya nodded. Never broke eye contact. Never changed her expression. “I wanted to test the spells I made. The Crags are the highest and clearest launch point.”

A dull headache began to throb behind Islanzadí’s forehead.

Why? Why did it always have to be her child. Couldn’t she find something normal to do? Couldn’t she see that Islanzadí was struggling to keep the entire elven nation together just over a handful of years after the Fall? Arya was known to be remarkably observant but how could she not understand, after her father–

The fear for her safety was quickly turning to white hot anger at the center of Islanzadí’s chest. Of all the foolish things….

The queen inhaled and held her breath for a long moment before letting it out in a tight huff. “Arya. You are far too old to be pretending you can fly, and far too young to be meddling with experimental magic!” Arya opened her mouth but Islanzadí cut her off. “No. Enough of this. You know how important the meetings today are.” Islanzadí rose from her kneeling position and knocked the knees of her dress free of dirt. “You and I will discuss this at length in the evening. Now go to your quarters.”

Again, Arya tried to speak. She even took half a step forward, something flashing and flaring bright in her emerald eyes. “I–”

“Enough!” Unmistakable. The voice she used in court. Commanding. The voice of a queen. “To your quarters!” Islanzadí threw an arm in the direction of the door, pointing sharply. “Now!” 

The elfling’s mouth snapped shut, jaw clenched.

Islanzadí couldn’t tell if it was horror, pain, or anger that surged to her throat when her daughter straightened into a smart attention, knocked her knuckles to a disheveled shoulder as she had seen countless times before, and bowed. 

“As you wish, my queen.”

Hollow, detached. Quietly and barely masking the seething underneath it all.

Arya was at the door when Oromis called out. “Arya.” She turned to him, never once looking back to her mother. “Lessons early tomorrow. Bring your books and your training blade.”

“Yes, ebrithil.” The murmur held more respect than anything she had said to Islanzadí. “I will be there.”

Once the door was closed, Islanzadí took a moment to rub her temples and just breathe. She could still feel Oromis staring at her, anger not yet gone, thunder still in his eyes. 

“What?” She didn’t mean to snap. She bit her tongue. The Dragon Rider merely shook his head. “Speak, Oromis! I do not have time for games! I have two more meetings, not counting the one you interrupted, and I have a stack of reports on attempted border incursions by Wyrdfell waiting for me.”

“You don’t have time?” The words stung hard against Islanzadí’s ears with flabbergasted accusations. Oromis must indeed be outraged if he was acting this emotional with her. “You do not have time for your own daughter?” 

The queen whirled back to her desk and stalked around it. “My daughter should know better than to jump off cliffs and think she will fly!” She shoved a stack of papers to the side roughly and sat. “She knows how important these weeks are. Arya is capable, she should be able to take care of herself.”

“That is not the matter at all, and you know this!” Oromis followed her, bracing slim hands on the back of one of the chairs. “Islanzadí, Arya is hurting! She is still trying to come to terms with Evandar’s death–”

“Get out.” 

“Islanzadí–”

“Get out! You will not lecture me on how to raise my child by invoking the name of my dead mate!”

For the first, and quite nearly the only time, Islanzadí witnessed Oromis Thrándurin in a true, uncontained rage. 

The unmistakable rumble of dragonfire swelled in the crippled Rider’s chest. Islanzadí shrank back instinctively as the elf seemed to grow before her, white teeth flashing, fingers cracking through the chair’s wood as if pierced by ivory claws. 

Oromis’ voice was harsh with crackling flame, roaring at her above the din. “Then raise your child, Islanzadí Dröttning!” His thin chest heaved, as if the effort of holding back true fire taxed him to the limit. “Arya needs her mother. Not a queen. Go to her. She is a child! She only wants to be held by her mother and told that it will all be alright while the world is falling apart!” 

The words had Islanzadí shooting to her feet yet again. “Yes! The world is falling apart! And right now, the only thing keeping us safe are magic barriers, far too few uninjured spellcasters, a handful of cities lending all the strength they can to fortify them, and spells that are millenia old and in desperate need of repair!” The queen threw an arm out, gesturing to the expanse of Du Weldenvarden mapped out on the wall of pine. “Everyone is hurting! And I am the queen of an entire race that is hurting! I do not have time to lie to my daughter that everything will be fine when we cannot know for sure! My time is spent endlessly fortifying our defenses, trying to make sure we last to the end of the month in case Galbatorix decides to send his entire collection of Wyrdfell to sweep the forest with dragonfire! Time not spent with her is time spent keeping her alive!

“Arya will just have to learn how to live with some sacrifices. I will not hold her hand when it means the possibility of losing this entire nation.” 

Oromis once again looked every year his age. 

“Are you finished?” He asked softly.

The queen lowered herself into her chair, hands shaking. “Get out. And take Glaedr with you.”

Oromis again shook his head, as if in sad disappointment. “You will lose her if you continue like this, Islanzadí.”

Islanzadí did not look up from the piles of reports on her desk. 

When the door finally clicked closed behind him, the queen of the elves buried her face in her hands, and cried. 

Oromis was not halfway down the hall when the soft sound of sniffling caught his attention. A small droplet splashed on the back of his hand, warm like a spring rain in the dead of winter. 

He looked up. “Oh, little hatchling. Come down from there.” He gave a small, sad smile. “Please?”

Another quiet sniffle, the rustle of woven pine boughs, and the lanky elfling dropped from one of the skylights in the hall’s ceiling. Arya wiped her nose on the back of her arm, scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her palms and stifled a hiccup before squaring her shoulders as she had earlier. 

“Arya. Were you listening?”

She nodded. Blinked. 

“Oh, little hatchling. I’m so sorry you heard that.” Her eyes shone with tears when she met his gaze, throat convulsing as she swallowed another stuttered gasp of misery. Oromis opened his arms, chest aching. “None of that, now, Arya. It is okay to cry.”

Arya sniffed again. “F…fighters don’t cry.” 

“My dear girl, everyone cries.” But she was already in his arms, face pressed to his ribs and eyes squeezed shut. 

He let her sob out her frustration and pain there in the hall, tucked into his embrace and in a little sheltered bubble of silence where no one would be able to hear her tears. She pulled away when she was done, rubbing at her face, trying to hide the evidence again as the two of them retrieved her training blade and books before beginning the long walk to the Crags. She would sleep under the stars there, an unspoken agreement forged by the many times Glaedr had awoken to the elfling tucked against his paw, or curled under the roots of a tree at the edge of their cliffside dwelling. 

“I’m…” Oromis flicked his gaze to the child at his side. Arya heaved a few deep breaths, forcing herself to calm fully. “I’m going to fix it.” 

“Fix what, little hatchling?” 

“The world.” Arya nodded in affirmation to herself. The Rider at her side couldn’t help the small grin that tilted his lips. Leave it to the youth to declare such things with so much confidence. “I’m going to fix the world. Then Mum won’t have to work so hard, and you and Glaedr won’t be so sad all the time.”

The matter of fact mentioning of his and Glaedr’s pain hit like a stone loosed from a sling. He pushed it back, did his best to keep the soft smile on his face. “Do you have a plan for this?” 

“Yeah.” 

Oromis nearly missed a step when he glanced down. Arya’s face had transformed from the light frown to a near frighteningly wild smile, teeth bared in fierce determination. Her eyes were alight with brilliant fire, brows lowered in challenge. 

“I’m gonna fight.”

~~~~~~~~

[eventheodds]

derringer meryl — outlaw au

Meryl’s parents died when she was young, so it was her father’s best friend, Roberto de Niro, that took her in and raised her. Roberto worked for the Bernardelli’s (actual profession tba), and he made enough to support himself and Meryl.

He kept many photos of her parents and made sure she never forgot them.

Then, one evening, Roberto never came home. Meryl, who was just about to leave for school in the city of November, left their apartment and found his body in an alley. He’d been shot several times in places where the murderer made sure that he’d not be getting up again.

The authorities were of no help, or chose not to be. And anyone who wanted to help turned away, knowing that this was the work of the Bernardelli’s—though they were connected well enough to make sure nothing would be traced back to them.

Back home, after she’d given Roberto a modest funeral, she found his work on what he amassed on the Bernardelli family; they were a crime family whose roots went deep in corruption, trafficking, coercion and anything they could sink their fingers into that would ensure they remained unchallenged.

Meryl never went to November City, she never enlisted in school, and instead found her father’s derringers and vowed to avenge Roberto’s death.

Her hits started on the outskirts of smaller cities and she would eventually make her way towards bigger areas where the Bernardelli’s influence was more potent.

She knows this isn’t a lifestyle where she comes out unscathed on the other side; she knows the risks, but Meryl Stryfe has made her decision and she means to honour her promise.

Important addendum: Because @full-of-mercy mentioned this, Meryl writes angry letters to the news agency whenever her title gets mistakenly written or said as Dillinger Meryl as opposed to Derringer Meryl.

[thrnwhip]

a poem about identity and the future :-)

[bruggle]

So here's something of a first draft for chapter 1. I am by no means a professional writer, so any criticism is appreciated.

Marino has lived in cities all her life; Giga City, the place she had been created, was a marvel of technology. A literal man-made (or perhaps reploid-made, she never paid attention to history) island floating on the ocean covered in skyscrapers higher than could be seen from the ground. After the whole Force Metal incident, Massimo, Nana, Cinnamon, and she had all decided to help the Maverick Hunters out. The Resistance had long since been disbanded, and it would have been a shame for all their skills to go to waste. And while that meant leaving Giga City, Abel City hadn’t been too much of a culture shock.

  The place they were currently fighting Mavericks now, however? Marino wouldn’t call it a city.

Out in the middle of nowhere, she would probably just call it a larger than average town. But hey, who was she to argue with semantics. It was rare that Maverick Hunters were called out to the United States; they had their own sect of Maverick hunting specialists, after all. But when the call had been made asking for assistance, Signas hadn’t hesitated to send a small team out. Something about making sure relations between the two sects stayed good. Apparently, the Guild just hadn’t wanted to deal with it. At least, that’s what Marino figured. This outbreak of Mavericks was by no means anywhere close to what she had dealt with in the past, but it was still a pain in the ass. Massimo was currently fighting off three of them, while she had just downed one.

  Running over to Massimo, she threw a beam knife at one of the Mavericks trying to sneak up on him. The hulking, green-clad reploid quickly dispatched the other two with a few swings of his hammer. “Think that was it?” Massimo asked.  Marino shrugged. “Can’t say for sure, but it seems like it,” she replied. Glancing around, Marino couldn’t spot any unfamiliar figures making their way towards the two of them. Familiar figures on the other hand…

“Are you guys ok?” Cinnamon fretted, milling around them. She was usually fine staying at base, helping repair injured reploids and curing minor bugs in one’s system. But, Marino supposed, even nurses get restless as Cinnamon had begged Massimo and her to tag along. She was more surprised that Signas had agreed. The old commander probably just had a soft spot for the kid; Cinnamon had that effect. “Yeah, we’re okay,” Marino assured her. Out of the corner of her eye, Marino spotted a reploid getting up to his feet. She was about to call out and ask if he was okay when she noticed him raising a buster.

Right at Cinnamon.

Before she could even push Cinnamon out of the way, a shot rang out in the air; and the Maverick fell back to the ground. “Where did that come from?” demanded Massimo, tensing up for another round of fighting. Marino looked around, but she couldn’t see anything. “Not sure, but I’m pretty sure they’re not an enemy,” she assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “What makes you so sure?” he asked. “Well, given that we’re not dead, I’d say it’s a pretty good bet,” Marino deadpanned. “They’ve had ample opportunities.” Massimo mulled it over a bit before relaxing his stance. “Up there!” Cinnamon suddenly called out. Marino looked to where she was pointing and saw a figure standing on top of one of the higher buildings. “Hey!” she called out. The figure tensed, as though not expecting to have been seen before slowly turning towards them. “Who are you?” Massimo demanded. Marino snorted, always the blunt one. The figure hesitated, giving Marino more time to analyze them. Fitted in silver armor, Marino could tell that they were a female model. Her helmet was equiped with a visor, shielding her eyes from view; and Marino couldn’t see any visible hair.  She carried a sniper buster, although it wasn’t any model Marino was used to seeing. Perhaps they just had different makes out here in the States.

 “We just want to properly thank you for saving our teammate,” Marino called out when the reploid still hadn’t given an answer. Rather than replying, the stranger seemingly gave a sigh of defeat and held up a finger before disappearing out of view. “What does that mean?” snorted Massimo. “Probably that they’re coming down here so that we don’t have to yell everything,” Marino exasperated. Really, he could be so dense sometimes. “So who are you?” Massimo demanded as soon as the reploid reappeared. Marino elbowed him as hard as she could. It wasn’t very effective due to his armor, but seriously. “Don’t mind him,” she assured the stranger. “He forgot his manners at home. Like I said, we just wanted to thank you for saving Cinnamon here.” The reploid hesitated for a second before quietly muttering an answer. “Minnow,”

“It’s nice to meet you, Minnow,” Cinnamon greeted excitedly. She always enjoyed meeting new friends. “This is Marino, and that’s Massimo.” Minnow didn’t give a response, preferring to give a nod in greeting. “So I gotta ask,” Marino interjected. “What are you doing out here? You apart of the Guild?” Minnow shook her head. “Uh… no,” she answered quietly. “I’m just a merc. The Maverick I was tracking made his way out here; and while I can’t get the bounty on him now, I uh… I hate doing nothing so I stuck around to help.” Marino nodded. She could understand that. “Why can’t you get the bounty?” asked Massimo. Minnow gave a wry smile. “I didn’t decommission ‘im,” she said. He let out a quiet ‘oh’. “Well, is there some way we can help?” asked Cinnamon. “I don’t know much about mercenary work, but I do know it’s hard.”

 “Ah, no that’s okay,” Minnow assured her. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.” Cinnamon cocked her head, a worried look on her face. “Are you sure?” she fretted. “We’re Maverick Hunters, we could put in a good word for you!” Marino shook her head with her own wry smile. Cinnamon had a tendency to forget that not everyone wanted to work in large groups. Minnow tensed up, a slight grimace on her face. “That’s uh… that’s very kind of you,” she replied. “But I’m fine just being a mercenary. Let’s me choose where I help.” Cinnamon’s face fell, causing Marino to pat her on the shoulder. “You help out in the middle of nowhere often?” she asked. Minnow simply nodded. Not a very talkative one, Marino noted. “Why? Doesn’t seem like there’s as many opportunities,” Massimo pointed out. Minnow simply shrugged. “Someone has to,” she answered. “In any case, I uh… I gotta get going. It was nice meeting you.” With that, she turned to leave. “Wait, really?” Marino asked. “Why the rush?”

  “Gotta figure out where I’m heading next,” Minnow said. That made sense.  “At least let us buy you an E-tank,” Marino insisted. “No, no,” Minnow refused, avidly shaking her head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad to have helped. Thank you for the offer though.” She quickly made her way out of the town.

  “That was… weird,” Massimo mused once Minnow was out of sight. Marino nodded in agreement. “I think she’s just shy,” Cinnamon argued. “Maybe, but I don’t know,” Marino sighed. “There is definitely something off about her. She said she was a mercenary, right?” Massimo nodded. “One that seems to be working by herself,” he mused. “Not very reassuring.”

“What are you implying?” Cinnamon bristled. “Easy there, Cinna,” Marino soothed, placing a hand on her shoulder. “She saved me!” Cinnamon exclaimed, shrugging off Marino’s hand. “She’s not a Maverick!” Marino held her hands up in surrender. “Nobody is saying she is,” she assured Cinnamon. “I am,” butted in Massimo. Marino glared at him. “You’re not helping,” she hissed. He shrugged. “Don’t care,” he said. “We need to report this to HQ.”

“What?!” exclaimed Cinnamon. “That’s a little rash don’t you think?” exasperated Marino. Massimo gave them a hard look. “If she’s a Maverick, she needs to be taken care of as quickly as possible,” he maintained. “She’s dangerous.” Marino rolled her eyes. “Massimo, I agree that there’s something weird about Minnow,” she started. “But I really don’t think she’s a Maverick. It doesn’t make sense. Who knows how long she’s been in the area; she could have easily taken all of us out. She would have taken us all out if she were.”

“Maybe, or maybe she’s just not a very smart one,” Massimo snorted. Marino put her head in her hands. She was so glad she didn’t have the capacity to get a headache; she definitely would be dealing with one this very moment if she could. “Call X,” Cinnamon suddenly demanded. “What?!” Marino exclaimed. “Cinnamon, X is isn’t on active duty right now. We can’t just call him.” Cinnamon folded her arms, a determined look on her face. “Call X,” she maintained. “He’ll know if she’s a Maverick or not.” Marino let out a long suffering sigh. “Cinnamon, we are not calling X,” she exasperated.

               They were calling X.

  Cinnamon had thrown such a fit over the idea of Massimo reporting Minnow without any concrete proof that Marino had finally caved. Granted, she agreed with the younger reploid that it was a drastic measure, but calling X seemed just as crazy to her. “Don’t get your hopes up,” Marino reminded Cinnamon. “X is very busy, and he may not see the point in investigating a single reploid.” Cinnamon waved her off. “He won’t,” she insisted. “Minnow isn’t a Maverick. He’ll agree with me.” Marino rolled her eyes. She loved Cinnamon like a sister, she really did! But sometimes she wondered. “Or he’ll be mad at us for wasting his time when we should be reporting her to headquarters,” Massimo grumbled. Cinnamon glared at him. “Enough, you two,” Marino ordered.

 

  Life… hadn’t been great as of late. While Maverick activity seemed to be slowing down at least somewhat (no major attacks have happened in recent memory at least), X had been finding it hard to get through the days. Zero had been in stasis for… well, it’s been a while. Supposedly, his DNA had anti-bodies that could potentially end the whole Maverick crisis; thus, he had willingly gone into stasis yet again in hopes of a permanent solution being found. And honestly? X missed his best friend. Axl often stopped by to visit, which did help, but it wasn’t the same.

  In any case, Signas had agreed to allow X off active duty so as to work on a new project; one he had been personally asked to join. Neo Arcadia, a place where humans and reploids could co-exist in harmony. Granted, it was still a bit of a pipe-dream, but everyone taking part was hopeful. Even him to a certain extent.

   An internal beeping alerted X to the fact that he had a call waiting for him to pick up. Curious, he checked to see who it was, his systems giving a start as he realized it was Marino calling him. How long had it been since X had even had a chance to talk to the Giga City survivors? Guilt gnawed at him as he allowed the call to patch through. “Heeeeey… long time no see,” Marino awkwardly greeted. X gave a chuckle. “It has been a long time,” he agreed. “How have you guys been?”

“Ah, you know, we’ve been fine,” she answered. “How about you? How have you been holding up?” X hesitated, he really didn’t want anyone else worrying about him. Axl was bad enough. “I’ve been doing as well as I can,” he finally decided to tell her. “That’s good to hear,” Marino said. “Listen, I’d love to just chat, but there’s something I need to talk to you about.” That caught his attention. “Is it Maverick Hunter related?” X asked wearily. “Uh… yes and no,” she faltered. Well that made no sense. “Look, we met a mercenary today,” Marino began. “One working on her own. She saved Cinnamon’s life from a Maverick. But…” X sighed. “You think she’s a Maverick,” he deadpanned. “Then report her. Don’t know why you need me to tell you that.” Marino gave a huff of irritation. “Wow, why didn’t I think of that?” she sardonically drawled. X could practically hear her eyes rolling in their sockets. “Listen, I really don’t think she’s a Maverick,” Marino continued. “But there is definitely something off about her.”

   “Off how?” X demanded. Marino sighed. “She was really nervous, like she was trying to hide something? She took off almost immediately after introducing herself, ” it was rare for Marino to not sound sure of something. “Cinnamon is pretty adamant that she isn’t a Maverick either.” X paused at that. Despite her rather naïve outlook, Cinnamon usually had pretty good instincts on that sort of thing. “Did you get the mercenary’s name?” he asked. “She told us her name was Minnow,” Marino answered. X gave a hum at that, placing his hand on his chin. “Look, I know you’re busy,” she sighed. “But Massimo is seconds from reporting Minnow himself, and Cinnamon is about ready to kick his ass for it. And as funny as it would be to watch that, I’d rather get back home.” X gave his own long sigh. “Cinnamon is sure she isn’t a Maverick?” he reiterated. “Like I said, she is ready to ‘throw hands’ over it,” Marino confirmed. He chuckled over that. “Tell her I will look into it,” X said. “But if whatever I find points to her being Maverick, I will immediately turn it over to HQ.”

  “Got it,” Marino agreed. “And X?”

   “Yes?”

   “We gotta hang out sometime,” while X couldn’t see her face in any capacity, he could tell she was grinning. He let one creep on his own face. “Agreed,” he chuckled. “Over and out.”

 

  Marino had definitely stumbled into a puzzle.

X could find little to no information on this ‘Minnow’ she had spoken of. The most he’d been able to find is fifteen bounties on low ranking Mavericks fulfilled by her. Even the information the registry had on her was… suspicious to say the least. The identification number she was using didn’t match with her model, for example. Not to mention that those fifteen bounties were barely enough for anyone, let alone a reploid, to survive off of. Maverick or not, there was something fishy about Minnow; and it wasn’t just her name.   

How nobody else had caught this was beyond X. He definitely should not be the first person to come across this. What was going on here? He let out a long sigh. So much for staying in reserves. Sending out a call to the Neo Arcadia lead, a man known as Isaac, X let him know something had come up. “You’ll be back though, correct? Isaac asked. “Of course,” X replied. “This shouldn’t take too long. Just an investigation.” Isaac let out a non-committal hum. “And you’re sure no other Hunter could take care of it?”

“I agreed to look into this personally,” X maintained. “Therefore, I feel it prudent to follow through on that.” Isaac sighed. “Very well X,” he conceded. “We will look forward to your return.” With that, he ended the transmission. And now, to convince Signas that this was worth looking into. While X had long since decided he would be looking into this with or without proper backing, it would be nice to go about it the correct way. His call was accepted almost immediately, which caught him slightly off-guard. Had Signas been waiting for him?

“I assume you are calling about the mercenary Massimo and his team ran into today?” Signas asked. Guess Cinnamon’s threats had no effect on Massimo. “Yes sir,” X answered. “I’ve been looking into her, and a lot of things don’t add up.” Signas sighed. “We’ve been looking into it as well,” he said. “What is your opinion on the matter?”

“In all honesty sir, I couldn’t tell you,” X stated. “Too many things don’t add up. The registry she’s in should have flagged just about everything the second it was submitted. Do we have any idea why it hasn’t?”

“As far as I’m aware, this particular registry is a smaller company in the States,” Signas replied. “One that operates in less populated areas.” X nodded to himself. “Sir, with your permission, I would like to investigate this matter further,” he implored. Signas gave a pause. “Are you sure, X?” he questioned. “We have plenty of hunters that could look into it instead. I know you’re busy with Neo Arcadia.” X let out a chuckle. “I told Marino and subsequently Cinnamon that I would,” he insisted. “And I’d rather not face Cinnamon if I back out on that. I’ve let those working on Neo Arcadia know I would be leaving already.” Signas let out his own chuckle. “Yes, she can be quite terrifying when she wants to,” he acknowledged. “Very well; since you have your mind made up on this, I will inform the Guild of our suspicions and your arrival.”

“Thank you, sir,” X said. “Maverick Hunter X signing off.” With that, the call ended.

X sighed.

And prepared for a trip to America.

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

I made this callout meme for me and me specifically

[malsorie]

WIP!!!!!

experimenting with nightwarden minthara hairstyles ideas

hehehe

[3cosmicfrogs]

“It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another."

companion piece of the frankenverse

[dazzlerdrawer]

my wip so far... ahHHHH its taking too long for me.

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

《山河令》 WORD OF HONOR (2021) | Episode 34

A-Xu … A-Xu, where are you? Why is it so dark? Let me tell you, tonight I got all of them drunk! I‘m so happy! I‘m so happy tonight, listen. Last time when I was drinking with that old monster I was actually really sad. I was afraid… afraid that you couldn‘t live for much longer. Afraid that you wouldn‘t accept me. Afraid that I had no right to be your hao xiongdi. But now everything is fine! Here! Drink with me! Let‘s have a toast!

bonus:

[amiracleilluminated]

What can I say? I'm a lot.

[limeskye]

BETTY'S OUTFIT IM DYING

[aychama]

"Ah Queen Heket! Its a pleasure to finally meet you! Yknow since you hardly show your gorgeous face in these kinds of events! Haha Anyway we have met before but I should intruduce myself, I am-"

"King..."

"Ah, pardon?"

"King Heket... I am no ones wife... I am... the ruler of my kingdom, no less than my siblings and... I will be addressed as such."

[alecz-obssesionz]

[WIP] The two types of HK fanart

[flekh]

wow she is the woman ever

[petricorah]

something something i will follow you into the dark (comic wip)

[batbabydamian]

DC July 2024 Solicitations - Comics Featuring Damian! 🦇

BATMAN AND ROBIN #11

7/10/24

Written by Joshua Williamson

Art by Juan Ferreyra

Cover by Simone Di Meo

Variant Covers: Juan Ferreyra, Travis Mercer, Christian Ward (1:25)

Bruce and Damian plan the perfect father and son getaway…to DINOSAUR ISLAND?! When the dynamic duo uncovers a deadly family secret, their investigation takes them on a fun-filled adventure to rescue one of Batman’s greatest enemies!

THE BOY WONDER #3 of 5

7/3/24

Written by Juni Ba

Art and Cover by Juni Ba

Variant Cover: Khary Randolph

The cunning Tim Drake has always been the smartest of Batman’s sons…and the most comfortable matching wits with the most sinister geniuses on Earth. Damian Wayne doesn’t like feeling outsmarted—to him, no smugly-written insult could ever be sharper than his sword—so when he’s forced to infiltrate a super-villain gala alongside the sneaky Red Robin, the biggest danger the two of them face might not be Lex Luthor but Damian’s own temper!

*John Timms Variant Cover appearance(?) + potential cameo

ABSOLUTE POWER #1

7/3/24

Written by Mark Waid

Art and Cover by Dan Mora

DC’s epic summer event kicks off with a bang, as the combined might of FAILSAFE and the BRAINIAC QUEEN has at last given Amanda Waller the ability to steal the metahuman abilities of every hero and villain on planet Earth. As chaos erupts in the streets and a massive misinformation campaign sways public opinion to her side, the founder of the Suicide Squad methodically targets each superhero dynasty one at a time, starting with SUPERMAN. But even in this darkest of hours, a resistance is forming…and BATMAN is out for vengeance. It’s a shocking blitzkrieg across the globe that is decades in the making—and will shape the course of the DC Universe for years to come! Brought to you by the superstar talents of MARK WAID and DAN MORA—it all starts here!

*John Timms Variant Cover appearance(?)

ABSOLUTE POWER: TASK FORCE VII #1

7/10/24

Written by Leah William

Art by Caitlin Yarsky

SUPER NO MORE! With the assault on Metropolis’s heroes complete, Amanda Waller’s latest living weapon, the Last Son, sets his sights on the other most powerful supers in the DCU…the Marvel Family! Will their combined powers be enough to survive this terrifying threat? In this biweekly series we'll see the ABSOLUTE POWER event through the eyes of evil—as told from the point of view of the TRINITY OF EVIL!

*Rian Gonzales Variant Cover appearance

NIGHTWING #116

7/17/24

Written by Tom Taylor

Art and cover by Bruno Redondo

Everything Dick Grayson has built is crumbling around him. His life is spiraling out of control and Heartless is at the center of all of it. Now Nightwing must leave his city. Can he take back the power he’s lost? Or will Blϋdhaven and its citizens be lost to Heartless forever?