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ryder-s-block · 5 years

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Jaig Eyes (Ch 10)

Jaig Eyes (Ch 10/?)

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Chapter Ten: Contaminated

“All the doors are locked,” a droid complained as it passed with its comrade. I leaned around the corner with Padme and Jar Jar, watching them walk. “How are we going to get out?”

“It’s not our problem,” the other responded, my finger dancing on my trigger. Padme’s hand touched mine, shaking her head.

“Boy, that’s a relief,” the first said again as the two passed through a doorway, the mechanism hissing as it closed again.

I gave Padme an incredulous look, which she merely shook her head to. “You can’t take them all, especially in your state.”

“I can scrap two droids, Senator.”

“We have no idea how many more are around the next corner.” She pursed her lips at me and I felt the swell of emotion she refused to let show on her face. “I’m not letting you go. Not yet.”

Her emotions bombarded my own, making me struggle to keep focus. I nodded at her slowly, before following her forward through the mist-filled hallways.

Her wrist comm beeped. “Senator Amidala,” came Ahsoka’s voice. “Where are you?”

“We’re right outside your safety room,” Padme said back, the three of us stopping before a massive sealed door. As we neared, I could immediately feel the emotions inside. Fear. Worry. Impatience. Resignation.

My heart clenched at the thought that they were all infected too. Ahsoka was so young. Only 14. And then it occured to me that the clones were young, too. They had the mental and physical maturities of men in their twenties, depending on when they were born, but were really younger than Ahsoka, timewise.

“Can you get the door open?” Ahsoka, despite being so young, was incredibly composed. I could feel her force signature among the clones. Younger. Vibrant. More hopeful. She believed in her master. And while the clones did too, they all were far more accepting of death.

Padme seemed to have a similar brainwave as me, her face pensive. Finally, she looked up at me. “Go ahead.”

I pressed the glowing panel on the wall, the door grinding open to reveal a room full of soldiers and a grim padawan. I stayed behind, looming in the wafting blue mist as the senator and representative entered the room. Some of the clones were already coughing.

Why wasn’t I? I felt tired. I felt that something was wrong. But I wasn’t showing such obvious signs of infection.

“I’m sorry, Ahsoka,” Padme said sadly, her hand on the padawan’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about us, Senator,” the young girl responded, determined. “We still have a job to do.”

“There aren’t very many droids left. The three of us saw some heading towards the South entrance,” Padme explained. I felt the surprise rippled from the group.

“The three of you?” Ahsoka asked, her eyes darting to my looming form. I stepped into the room, my hands on my pistols.

“Yeah,” I called. “And we better get moving if we want to keep this virus contained.”

They seemed shocked, but Ahsoka nodded. “As long as we’re able, we’ll help you destroy those droids before they breach the compound.” Rex handed over his rifle to the senator, who took it gratefully.

“You take the north corridor and we’ll take the south.” Padme was determined, her face grim.

The group moved to split up as my eyes trailed over the infected clones. Their faces were looking a bit grayish in the pale light, some of them even sporting dark lines on their necks like spidering veins. I glanced down, slowly pulling my glove back to see my hand sporting the same pattern. I pulled it back immediately, trying to ignore it as best I could.

I felt him approach before turning to see him. “Why aren’t you wearing your mask?” Rex asked, his face failing to mask his concern. Ahsoka and the other clones seemed interested in his question too. “You were wearing one before the outbreak. Why take it off?”

I blinked slowly before sighing. “The mask was only on before to keep everyone else from being contaminated.”

“What?” Ahsoka asked from where she walked to my side.

“Vindi infected Kida when we first arrived,” Padme jumped in. “He put the virus in the mask she was wearing, so she kept it on to keep anything from getting out.”

I shrugged. “But with the virus out, all it did was impede my vision. Why wear it if it’s out?”

“I don’t understand,” Ahsoka voiced. “Why did he infect you?”

Padme went to answer, but I shook my head, butting in. “Who knows? I guess he wanted a live display or something.”

The group let it drop, exiting the safe room to go in our seperate directions. Still, as two clones ran off with Padme and Binks, I watched from behind, my own mind floating to what Vindi had said. I wondered if the pad he had used to test his theory about my species was still in the control room.

A hand touched my shoulder gently, my head turning to see Rex’s unmasked face. His golden eyes met mine. “I’m sorry.”

I shook my head grimly. He was in the same situation as me. “Don’t be.” I forced a small smile to him before giving him a small pat to his shoulder and racing off after my employer. As I turned the corner, I saw Rex looking after me, his eyes sad, his face flashing through various emotions that never stayed long enough for me to read. And then I passed the corner and he was gone.

It only took a few moments for me to catch up with my group, my hand drawing my pistol silently.

“The droids are close,” Padme said from the front of the group, her voice quiet. “I can hear them cutting through the wall.” She leaned around the corner, my own breathing steadying me slowly as I tried to push away the haze of the virus.

She turned suddenly, opening fire with the clones. I rushed forward, rolling to the opposite side of the hall and opening fire as well. We downed most of them quickly, only some having enough time to fire back. We hurried down the hall as a group, seeing two crawl up the ladder.

At the opposite side of the access hall, droids were backpedaling into the room, opening fire at our other group. It was downed quickly, Captain Rex and Ahsoka emerging with their own team to run in towards us.

Rex and I met in the middle, both of our pistols rising up at the droid above. “Stop!” Rex called, my mind flexing slightly in a wave of fatigue.

“Don’t open that hatch!” Padme yelled from beside me.

“Ha!” the droid laughed, but I rolled my eyes, my mind focusing enough to recognize the type of metal that made up the access hatch. “Too late!” it called, raising its blaster.

I grabbed the senator’s arm as he fired, pushing her behind me and away from the access whole, the entire thing glowing red as the bolt richotted wildly. It fell out, having eventually shot itself.

Stupid droid.

“Let’s move on,” Padme said gently, giving me a small smile of gratitude. She stopped suddenly, her eyes widening.

“What?” I asked.

Her hand alighted gently on my cheek. “You’re showing signs.”

“So are most people.”

She shook her head sadly, but curiosity resonated in her thoughts. “But later than others.” She glanced at some of the clones, but I shook my head.

“Come on,” I said, “We need to move on if we want to stop this outbreak.”

She nodded, letting the group move together as a whole, heading to a panel. As she and Ahsoka looked it over, Rex approached my side again.

“So what was the real reason for Vindi infecting you?”

I cast him a tired glance. “What do you mean?”

Despite the sorrowful air, he chuckled gently. The clones around us seemed surprised by his behavior. I couldn’t help but grin. “Remember when you visited the 501st barracks on Coruscant?”

Padme and Ahsoka had stopped talking, their own attentions sent quietly our way. I chuckled, not really caring. I was probably going to die, so…

“I remember visiting you after we basically blew up and Jesse forcing me to interact with your entire battalion,” I laughed.

Rex grinned. “Well when he convinced you to drink with us, you eventually told me what your tell is.”

I lifted my eyebrow. “My tell?” The captain hummed, crossing his arms as Padme and Ahsoka resumed their discussions. “And what would that be?”

“Why would I want to make you aware of which tells I know? Then you could change them around me.” I hummed at his reasoning. “Just trust me when I say that I know you were lying.”

“What does it matter?” I sighed as we started moving, following Ahsoka and Padme to the next exit point. “I have no point of changing my tells in the future.” I knew he picked up on my grim tone.

“General Skywalker will find a cure.”

I hummed as we approached more droids, both of us opening fire and disposing of the group with the rest of our team. “I admire your optimism,” I said breathlessly as the clones made sure the exit hatch was still sealed.

“You alright?” Padme asked softly, her hand touching my forearm. I nodded, trying to brush her away, but a series of coughs erupted from my throat. I fell hard to my knees, my entire body convulsing with the sudden fit, my arms wrapping around my abdomen. “Kida!” Padme cried, kneeling beside me and holding my shoulders.

I tried to wave her away as I kneeled, struggling to catch my breath. “I’m fine,” I said through a few more coughs, my hand over my mouth. “I’m fine.” I pulled my hand away, seeing the blood splattered across my palm.

“Oh no,” Padme breathed, her voice automated through her suit. I rubbed away the blood, wiping my mouth as I forced myself to stand. I holstered my pistol, gesturing for her to stand with me.

“I��m alright,” I said firmly. “I’m good.” I looked around at the clones, seeing them nod slowly at me. They knew who I was. What I supposedly was. Maybe now I was proving it. Proving I deserved the Jaig eyes. Ahsoka’s own face was beginning to sport black veins and dark circles beneath her eyes. “The more we exert ourselves, the quicker this will take us,” I reasoned, brushing some sweat off my forehead. “So we might as well scrap these droids fast so we can just die already, dammit.”

The humor was grim, but I got a few clones to laugh. Even Ahsoka cast me a small, tired, but amused, smile.

We moved on, racing down the halls and taking out droids. We slowed as I heard a distinct, fast-paced clanging. We listened for a moment, my head cocking. “Destroyers,” I voiced softly.

In seconds, two droidekas rounded the corner, all of us raising our weapons, Ahsoka’s green lightsaber igniting. “Take cover!” Rex called, all of us moving to the sides of the hall and laying cover fire for the padawan. She leapt forward deftly, slowly moving through their high velocity shields and re-igniting her lightsaber.

“This’ll help!” I heard the Gungan voice, my eyes immediately lifting to see him holding a blaster.

“Jar Jar no!” Padme cried, leaping up to pull his arm. The Gungan fired, hitting Ahsoka’s lightsaber. The senator reacted immediately, shoving the Gungan to the ground. I ignored the destroyers, knowing Ahsoka had them handled as I raced after them, my heart stopping.

“Senator!” Ahsoka called, racing after me.

“Senator,” Rex repeated from behind me as I knelt beside Padme, who was slowly sitting up. “Your suit’s been compromised.”

She looked down, following my horrified eyes to where one of her breathing tubes had disconnected, hissing air. She gasped, her face terrified as she met my gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” Ahsoka said, kneeling at my side. I didn’t see what caused it, but I suspected the deflected bolt from Ahsoka’s lightsaber severed the tube. Then again, Jar Jar fired the shot.

Padme removed her helmet slowly, giving the young padawan a reassuring smile. “Don’t blame yourself. These things tend to happen in a war zone.”

She was too kind of a person. I knew that early on...but I knew it even more so in that moment. I stood slowly, offering her my hand. The senator took it, letting me pull her to her feet.

“Well,” she breathed, giving me a forced laugh. “I understand what you meant about these being restrictive now. Care to help?”

I returned the smile sadly, helping her remove the hazard suit. I tossed the yellow material to the side, aware of Jar Jar’s anxious stance behind the senator.

“Me-sah so sorry,” he offered, Padme accepting his apology in a heartbeat. I rolled my eyes, leaning heavily on the wall as they talked briefly.

“You alright?” This time, the voice belonged to the young Togruta, her face looking dark and sunken.

I nodded slowly, my eyes moving back to the senator. “Well, I didn’t do my job very well.” I shrugged with one shoulder tiredly. “At least I’ll die before I have to see my reputation go to shit.”

To my surprise, the girl laughed, her head shaking in amusement. She sobered slowly as we took off again, this time at a slower pace. We were all feeling the full effects now.

“Hey,” she said beside me as we walked. “I’m sorry about how I treated you when we first met.” My eyebrows shot up in shock. “It was immature and ignorant. I’m glad Padme has had you to watch over her.”

“Yeah, well obviously she’s made it as hard as she possibly could,” I replied, trying to keep the mood light.

“She’s a lot like Anakin in that way,” Ahsoka laughed. I wondered if she knew. Maybe she at least suspected, if nothing else. “But really, I am sorry. Padme speaks highly of you and both my master and the men seemed to like you a lot.” I hummed, nodding my head in appreciation of her words. “Anyone who can make Rex smile is someone who deserves respect.”

I laughed at her words, surprising myself by nudging her shoulder playfully. “Thank you,” I said quietly when our chuckling died. “I really appreciate it.”

She smiled at me before sobering again, the fatigue obvious in her stance. The group set out at a faster pace, chasing the sounds of echoing power-cutting through the halls. It grew louder and louder, a droid’s voice echoing. “How are you doing up there?”

“I’m almost through,” another responded.

We rounded a corner, Ahsoka’s lightsaber igniting at the sight of more droids. “There they are!” She rushed forward without the rest of us even reacting, slicing through the first droid and force-pulling the second down the hatch and into her lightsaber. She groaned, leaning heavily on the ladder, the droids destroyed.

“Ahsoka,” Padme called, the group moving to approach the padawan.

The Togruta breathed heavily. “I’m alright.” Padme glanced at me, seeing my own fatigue setting in.

“We need to contact Anakin,” she decided.

“None of our transmissions are strong enough to leave the planet, Senator,” Rex chimed in, his own body seeming worn down.

A thought donned in my foggy mind as I leaned against the wall. “The control room,” I said aloud to the group. “Where Vindi first had us. He had a transmitter there.”

The group nodded in unison, Padme looking concerned. “I don’t know where that is,” she hummed. “This place is a labyrinth.”

“I know,” I said breathlessly, pushing off the wall and almost collapsing. I waved away those that moved to help, steadying myself. “Follow me.”

I led them back through the maze, having been trained by Jango to always create my own mental map of any location I may need to get out of at some point. We hurried through the twists and turns, the group only having to backtrack once when my infected mind grew too hazy to know for sure.

We soon found the control room, the clones sitting immediately to rest while Padme and Ahsoka worked to get the transmitter working. I looked around the room, forcing myself to focus. I found the datapad Vindi had used prior to infecting my, disguising my journey to it with a feigned curiosity with the room in general. I brushed my hands over dials and lined vials, my eyes scanning. Still, my sight was still always watching the datapad on the furthest counter.

As I finally approached it, I heard the transmission go through, Ahsoka sounding more worn than ever before. “Master? Can you hear me?”

The muffled and scattered sound of Skywalker’s voice responded, the signal improving slowly. I suspected R2-D2’s work.

“We destroyed all the battle droids,” Ahsoka explained, Padme standing beside the padawan to help keep her tiring body upright. “Inside the compound, Master. Naboo is safe from further contamination. I repeat. Naboo is safe.” Ahsoka let out a series of coughs, Padme looking grim.

“Promise me that no one will ever open this bunker.” Her voice was desperate, but fighting emotion. Her love for Skywalker billowed through the force, making me turn away. I finally reached the datapad, my heart skipping at seeing my information still on the front. “Goodbye Anakin,” she said softly. “I-” she coughed violently, my head whipping around to see her struggling to breathe. I bit my lip, quickly downloading the datapad’s contents to my wrist comm before deleting it from Vindi’s records.

I tossed the device back down and hurried to her side. The transmission died out as I walked in, holding her shoulder. “The clones are getting worse,” I said gently. “We should go somewhere we can get water.”

“It looks like there’s some this way, Senator,” Rex said, letting out a few coughs of his own. My heart sunk, looking around at the group. This was why I needed to keep myself from getting attached.

I silently cussed myself out as I helped the clones move a few rooms over. The room was wide and filled with what looked like boilers, but water dripped from them nonetheless. It was filled with red light, mixing with the blue mist to make the room a gentle purple.

The room became solemn as they all found places to sit, Padme moving to find a rag. I breathed deeply, feeling my own body failing. I wanted to sleep. But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.

Because if I did, I knew I wouldn’t wake back up.

I glanced around, feeling the force ripple as their life forces began to fade. Padme began to wet a rag she found, the clones removing their helmets to reveal sunken eyes and black-veined skin. The sadness in the room...the resignation...became too heavy. I stole away as Padme began to make rounds to the clones, patting down their sweating foreheads. I found my way behind some of the fallen boilers, sitting slowly and resting my head against the wall. Not far away, and obscured only by a few broken pipes, another clone found rest on the wall, his helmet still on as he coughed.

I swallowed thickly, staring up through the blue mist as I thought about how I was going to die. It wasn’t how I expected, really. Sickness never seemed like the way I’d go out. I expected something more...violent.

Something more like how Jango went.

My thumb fiddled with my comm, curious about what Vindi had found. Yet, as I felt myself fading, I knew there as something else I had to do first. I accessed my wrist comm, typing in a few commands before it sparked to life in blue light.

“This is an open-broadcast message intended for Boba Fett. If received, please transfer.” I swallowed slowly, my head falling back to the wall as my comm beeped, letting me know it was recording.

“Hi Boba,” I said slowly, looking at the comm directly. I knew other people could hear me, but I didn’t care. “It’s Kida. Listen, I know we haven’t talked in a while. And I know you don’t really like me anymore. Hell, you might even hate me.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “And I know you probably won’t want to watch this, but I hope you do anyways...because I’m not going to make it out of this one, bud.” I swallowed thickly, fighting the surge of emotions. “I’m sure you heard I took a job protecting the Senator of Naboo.” I let out a laugh. “Can you imagine your dad hearing that? He’d kick my ass for going against jobs he’d taken before. Still…” I brushed back my hair nervously. “It got me into a bad spot...and I won’t be coming back from it. I just wanted to tell you...all the things I wish I’d said before you stormed off my ship.”

Tears found their ways to my eyes, my mind becoming aware of Rex standing near me, his face sad. Still, he didn’t interrupt as I furiously wiped my eyes.

“Jango and you were all I had, Boba. I’ve never been more grateful for the family you both gave me.” I sniffed pitifully. “I’m sorry I didn’t step in. I should’ve, you’re right. And I’m so sorry-” My voice broke as tears stole their ways down my cheeks. “I wish I’d chased after you, because by the time I realized I should have, it was too late.” I wiped my eyes again, looking directly at the comm again. “I just want you to know that I’m proud of you. I know you’ll keep growing. Just...don’t forget your dad, alright? He loved you more than anything else. Don’t forget to make him proud, too.” I swallowed thickly, struggling as I coughed violently. After composing myself, I breathed deeply. “Goodbye Boba. Love you, kid.”

I signed off the comms, my curiosity begging me to look over Vindi’s notes, but Rex moved to sit beside me.

“You miss him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Of course I do.” I didn’t move as he sat beside me, his leg brushing mine. He removed his helmet, holding it in his lap, his thumb brushing over the Jaig eyes and tally marks. “What are the tallies for?”

“Battles I’ve made it through.” I hummed in response for a moment before laughing, resting my head wearily against the wall. “What’s so funny?” he asked, coughing gently into the crook of his elbow.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” I started, closing my eyes briefly as my weariness pressed on me harder. “That warriors die this way?”

“General Skywalker-”

“Is on another planet, trying to find a cure for a disease that is notoriously incurable,” I cut him off. “So forgive me for not being optimistic.”

Rex was quiet for a moment before sighing, his golden eyes still on his helmet. “I’ve been with General Skywalker for a while. He’s surprised me more than a few times. He always comes through.”

I sighed gently, feeling my chest beginning to burn with coughs I’d fought off, my mind threatening to wander in its sickly haze. “So did Jango.” The Captain finally set his helmet down, turning his face towards me. I didn’t have to open my eyes to feel his concern as he looked at me. “I know I’m pretty,” I teased, cracking open my eye at him.

He seemed flustered, his eyebrow raising. “I beg your pardon?”

I chuckled gently, a few coughs wracking my body before I settled back against the wall again. “You were staring.”

“I was thinking.”

“About?”

“How long have you been infected?”

I opened my eyes fully, my gaze forward again. Yes...that question. I was wondering it myself, but a part of me didn’t want to read the information on my comms. Maybe ignorance was bliss. Especially if I was just going to die anyways.

“Vindi infected me when we first arrived.” I watched him doing math in his head, looking confused. “I know,” I chuckled, rubbing my head gently. “I should be dead.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“Are you upset I’m not?”

He knew I was teasing, a small, but grim, smile gracing his face. His shoulder leaned closer, connecting with mine gently. The contact sparked a bond in the force, his emotions spilling across to me easily.

Worry. Fear. Sadness. Resignation. But a small glimmer of hope beneath it all.

“So you left a note for Boba,” he sighed gently, his head moving to match mine against the wall. “What about your friends at your club? What was his name? Merl?”

I smiled to myself, my eyes closing again. “You remembered.”

He hummed, nudging my shoulder to make me focus. “Don’t you want to leave a message for him?”

“No. Apex has a protocol for them, should I ever not make it back.” I opened my eyes briefly to look at Rex. “You know. Risks of the job.”

“And what protocol does he have?”

It clicked for me. “Ah,” I hummed, laughing a bit. “Are you trying to keep me talking in order to keep me alive, Captain?” He was silent, which was answer enough. “Shouldn’t you be doing that for your men?”

“They can handle themselves.”

I glanced briefly over to the clone down the wall from me. His life force was fading. Beyond saving. “And I can’t?”

“I didn’t say that. Just answer the question.”

“The club goes to Merl. My savings go to the club. Merl knows what to do with my belongings.”

“Which is?”

I smiled to myself. “Destroy them so no one gets their hands on them. But he never would.”

“Why not?”

I turned, finding Rex’s gaze on me. “Because he’s convinced I won’t really be dead.” Rex’s eyes darted around, taking in the planes of my face, all of which I was sure was covered in black veins. I examined him for a moment. I didn’t see Jango in him anymore. Not even a little. He was Rex. Gentle, but strong. Kind, but firm.

He didn’t deserve a life in war.

“I’m sorry about all of this.”

“So am I,” he responded grimly, his eyes intense. He swallowed slowly, his face turning forward again, but I stayed facing him, fighting to stay awake. “I wish we could have worked together more often.”

I hummed, leaning my head back against the wall tiredly. He turned when I barely responded, looking concerned. “Kida?” In my daze, I felt his gloved hand touch my shoulder. “Hey,” he pushed, his fingers pressing into my neck to check my pulse. A wave of relief came off him when he found me alive.

“I’m still here,” I mumbled, surprised at how my words slurred. I forced my eyes open slowly, shocked to find Rex’s face strikingly close to mine. “You getting worried, Captain?”

His hand brushed my cheek gently, his face sad. “I am. You’re not thinking of leaving me, are you?”

I smiled wearily. “I wasn’t aware I was with you.”

Despite the attempt at a joke, his face fell slightly as he cleared his throat. “Maybe not. But I’m with you. And you’re not allowed to die just yet.”

I huffed a small, tired laugh. “Aye aye, Captain.” His breath brushed my face as my eyes closed again. “Rex,” I mumbled, my head falling forward slightly. He hummed in response as my forehead pushed into where his skin met the collar of his blacks. “Your man,” I said, my hand tiredly gesturing along the wall. His face turned, making my head turn too. I forced my eyes open as I felt his heart drop in his chest.

“Is he…”

“He’s gone,” I responded, feeling the vacancy from the body. “I’m sorry,” I offered gently. I pushed off of Rex slightly as he guided me back to the wall. His look told me that he’d be back without having to speak, so I nodded in response, my head falling back and my eyes closing tiredly.

I felt myself fading in and out, but felt a small spark of life again as Rex’s hand touched my cheek, a pair of lips hesitantly pressing to my hairline. I wanted to respond with a smile, but couldn’t find the energy as he walked away.

Instead of watching him, I followed his movements through the force. He collected some cloth, moving to cover his fallen brother who was slumped against the wall. Padme and Ahsoka were still up and moving, doing their best to tend to the soldiers, but they were fading too.

“What a waste,” I heard Padme say weakly as I sensed Rex lift the cloth.

“With all due respect, Senator,” Rex responded grimly, letting out a tired sigh and a cough. “It’s what these men were born to do.” My heart clenched at his words. They were formal and well-scripted, but I felt the pain he hid below them. The resignation. The anger at himself. They were his responsibility, after all.

“I hope that their sacrifice brings us closer to peace,” Padme responded.

“It...will, Padme,” Ahsoka’s voice sounded, riddled with weak coughs. I slowly forced my eyes open, seeing the young padawan through the piping and fallen radiators. “You must believe that…”

Her voice faded out, her eyes rolling up in her head as I felt her body give out.

“Ahsoka!” Padme yelled, her, Jar Jar, and Rex rushing forward to the Togruta. Rex caught her gently before she could fall to the ground, his face filled with concern. “Ahsoka, can you hear me?” Padme tried again.

I wrenched myself off the wall, mustering what little strength I had left to stand shakily. Leaning heavily on the objects around me, I made my way over to the concerned group. Rex was gently laying the unconscious padawan down, holding her head with concern.

“Here,” I said softly, shakily sitting beside the young girl and taking her head from Rex. I placed her in my lap, touching her black-veined cheek gently. “I’ll watch over her.”

Padme moved to wet her rag again, but stumbled harshly on the way. Jar Jar grabbed her, gently guiding her to finally sit opposite of us. “Jar Jar,” she whispered under her breath, fighting her own loss of consciousness.

As Rex attended to what remained of his men, I looked down at the peaceful face of the Togruta. She was just a child, only a year older than when Jango saved me. I turned her face towards me, feeling her force signature begin to fade.

“No,” I whispered gently, feeling a ripple in the force of the planet. “You’re not allowed to go just yet.” I smiled to myself grimly. “There could be a chance...like you said.”

I wasn’t sure why I did it. I didn’t even know how I did it. But I reached forward in the force, reaching into her and willing her soul to stay. I pushed at the infection, chasing it from her heart to keep it beating. Willed her to live, at least a bit longer.

Some color returned to her face, her breathing seeming less labored, but I knew it wouldn’t last forever. Nor would I.

Drained from using the force like that, I leaned back against a radiator, holding the Togruta closely. Across from me, Jar Jar was holding a barely conscious Padme, her coughs soft in her weakness.

As my own mind drifted in and out of awareness, I felt Rex return after attending to his men. He knelt beside me before tiredly falling to a sitting position. His shoulder pressed against mine gently, his hesitation clear even without the help of the force.

“How are your men?” I asked weakly, my hand still brushing Ahsoka’s ashen face. The captain breathed slowly, the sadness evident in his posture and face. I cracked my eyes open to watch him as his golden eyes met mine.

He didn’t respond, instead shifting silently to pull me into his shoulder, his arm encircling my waste, the other hand coming up to brush my inner arm. Any other time, I would’ve tensed, but considering that I was likely choosing what position I would die in, I allowed myself to relax into the clone. My head dipped tiredly, pressing gently on his pulse to feel it still beating strong, despite his own imminent death.

Rex’s chin came down to rest on the top of my head, his fingers curling slightly to hold me closer. And there we sat, a Togruta resting in our laps, his arms holding me close as we waiting to die. I closed my eyes, not wanting to die, but somehow comforted that Rex would be next to me when it would happen. Though, I wish he wasn’t sharing my fate.

I lifted one of my hands, slipping my fingers between Rex’s to lace our hands. He didn’t recoil, probably feeling the same comfort I was getting from him. My last feeling was of him holding me, his head lifting only briefly to press his lips to my hair once more.

It wasn’t a warrior’s death...but maybe it was still a good one.

#Clone Wars #The Clone Wars #star wars #captain rex #captain rex x oc #fanfic #fanfiction

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sunshineoptimismandangels · 6 years

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Not Another Ghost Story - Chapter 1

Pairing: Klaine Status: WIP Author: sunshineoptimismandangels Summary: When Kurt Hummel began an online ghost investigation show with his best friend and his step-brother he never expected to find himself alone in an abandoned and reportedly haunted hotel, but one stormy night Kurt finds more than he ever expected in the derelict and chilling Whispering Wolf Hotel. In fact, Kurt may have found exactly what he’s has been looking for. A story of romance, comedy, and sinister plots. Author’s Note: I named this “Not Another Ghost Story” because anyone who has read any of my other stories knows I like to write about magic, and ghosts, and otherworldly tales. This story isn’t that… not exactly at least. FF.net | AO3

Parked in front of a timeworn and abandoned roadside hotel the pale blue pickup truck looked out of place; the only sign of life for miles and huddled under the flickering light of the lone street lamp as if it was seeking warmth against the howling wind outside. Years ago, the Whispering Wolf Hotel was a bustling high-end establishment, wealthy guest, important businessmen, and fashionable ladies stayed here. It was gorgeous, elite and pricey… and then the interstate was built a few miles west of the hotel. The whole landscape of the area changed as traffic was diverted elsewhere and slowly, in time, no one came to the Whispering Wolf anymore

Of course, that was why Kurt Hummel was here. Hunched down in the front seat of the blue pickup and grumbling under his breath as the wind beat into the side of the truck. Kurt glared at the text message that'd just came in from his supposed "best friend".

We're on our way! Set up without us. Be there soon.

"Damn it, Rachel!" Kurt growled glancing outside at the hotel. To say the hotel had seen better days was an understatement. Most of the windows were busted out, the paint on the siding had long faded away, and the roof sagged causing Kurt to worry about the safety of the entire structure. Watching the building it almost seemed to sway with the harsh wind and Kurt wondered even if his friends got here soon if it was safe to go poking around a building that looked like it could collapse as easily as a house of cards. He had certainly never planned on going into this deserted and decaying building alone. Kurt's long-time friend Rachel and her boyfriend, Kurt's stepbrother Finn, were supposed to be here with him. Then Rachel got held up at her day job and Finn said he'd pick her up and bring her when she was done. They asked Kurt to pack the equipment and head out there himself, Rachel swearing they'd be right behind him. Now it was nearing nine o'clock, the sun had set, and Kurt was left outside a creepy old hotel by himself while the wind wailed and the damn street lamp flickered as if it was a dying soul about to be snuffed out. To top it all off, if the rumbling in the air and the heavy clouds above were any indication it was about to start pouring down rain.

Kurt wasn't a naturally fearful person. In fact, out of the three-person Ghost Investigators team, Kurt was typically the unflappable one, but here alone, looking out at the looming and decrepit Whispering Wolf (and who named a hotel something so menacing anyway?) Kurt felt a bit apprehensive… and very frustrated.

You owe me big after this. Kurt texted Rachel back. And you better actually be driving here on your way, not I'm thinking about getting to the car soon on your way.

Kurt slipped his phone into his back pocket before Rachel had a chance to answer and hopped out of the truck before he could change his mind. At least he could get inside and set up before the rain started. He was having a particularly good hair day and there was no point in messing that up by getting caught in a downpour. Especially when he was about to be in front of the camera.

Kurt lifted the cover off the bed of the truck and started taking out what he needed. A generator and a couple collapsible set lights. He would grab the big camera if Rachel and Finn were here, but without them Kurt would probably only need the hand-held steady cam. He'd let Finn haul in the heavy camera when he got here. Which had better be soon. Kurt may be an amateur ghost investigator, but he did not sign up to wander around a building that could topple down on top of him all on his own.

"This was Finn's idea in the first place," Kurt grumbled under his breath as he lugged the heavy generator towards to the hotel. "It will be fun! We can post videos online. We could become famous!"

Rachel had jumped on board at the word "famous".

Kurt had only agreed because his school and his part-time job working the switchboard for a car dealership was boring as hell and there was little interesting to do even in his time off around Lima, Ohio. With Finn's wild idea of starting a ghost hunting show, there was at least a small opportunity for acting. Kurt was at his best when performing. Besides, he was only doing this until he was done with his second year at the University of North Ohio and then he was transferring to NYU and getting out of Lima for good.

The Whispering Wolf wasn't the first 'haunted' sight Rachel, Finn, and he had explored. They filmed episodes at a couple old houses in Ohio and their last exploration had been an old abandoned restaurant, where purportedly someone had died a few years back. Rachel had declared they been murdered! Poisoned by some deranged cook that used to work there… though the information Kurt dug up said heart attack.

Of course, when they investigated, they found nothing, no ghosts or otherworldly apparitions. They never did – but as she did with everyplace they investigated, Rachel had acted scared and enthralled and had faked a few ghost sightings. Finn was easily impressionable and swore he felt a chill every time they turned a corner. Kurt went along with it all for the acting challenge. After some editing and some music and sound effects were added, the episodes weren't so bad. They might not be believable exactly, but Kurt could at least say they were entertaining. The Ghost Investigators even had a decent online following.

Kurt lugged the generator and his backpack to the front door of the dilapidated old building and tried the rusted metal handle. The door only opened half an inch before jamming. Kurt sighed and placed the heavy generator on the ground before shouldering the door a couple times, it took all his strength to get it to swing inward wide enough to grab the generator and slide through.

It was pitch dark inside the hotel of course. Kurt turned on his handheld camera, mostly for the small beam of light projected in front of it and swung around the light. It was a typical hotel lobby. If Kurt used his imagination, he could almost picture how it must have looked once upon a time, plush red carpet, blue and gold damask wallpaper, polished wood check-in desk, and a sweeping staircase to the second floor. Now it was nothing more than a sad monument of a forgotten golden era, the carpet was ripped up in parts leaving the rotting wood floorboard beneath, the wallpaper peeled off the wall and hung lifeless like the petals of a dying flower and the check-in desk was covered in dust and cobwebs. Worst of all, the entire place smelled of mildew and decaying wood.

All in all, Kurt had to admit, it was the perfect location for a hunting. Rachel and Finn would be thrilled.

If they ever got here.

Kurt sat the generator down and began shooting some b-roll of the lobby – first just with the attached flashlight and then in night vision mode to get that green eerie lighting that was a hallmark of a good ghost hunting video. Thunder rumbled outside and Kurt's spine tingled as he was reminded of the impending rain. He went back outside to grab the lamps he'd left leaning against the truck and made sure the bed cover was secure so none of the remaining equipment would get wet. He glanced up at the sky as he headed back in, dark storm clouds covered the moon and the wind was picking up. It was going to rain any second now; he really hoped Rachel and Finn got here before it started.

Kurt took a few minutes setting up the lights and hooking them up to the generator. If Rachel wanted some shots of herself in the lobby before the lights were set up, well then she should have gotten here on time. After that, Kurt did a few takes of himself standing in the lobby and introducing the hotel, his camera on a tripod in front of him. "Built in 1921 the Whispering Wolf is a protected historic building, which is the only reason the whole place hasn't been torn down. It hasn't been in use since 1970." Kurt had actually enjoyed looking into the history of the old building.

The Whispering Wolf was on the outskirts of Westerville, Ohio. A couple hours' drive from where Kurt lived in Lima, but he'd heard about it before. Of course he had, since its closure in 1970 it had been a hangout for teenagers, a place for transients to lay their head, and most of all – the center of ghost stories and urban myths. The story was that someone had been murdered here and their spirit still-hunted the hotel even as it sat empty all these years. The story had very little continuity, some said it was a 1920s mobster killed shortly after the hotel opened, others said it was a 1960s hippie girl murdered after running away from home, and there were many other claims as well. The only thing locals seemed to agree on was that the hotel was definitely haunted.

When Kurt did some research, looking at old newspaper articles and police reports, what he found was that someone had been killed there. Not a hippie or a mobster, just some unnamed young man killed at the Whispering Wolf in the 1950s. Kurt was happy with just finding out that, it was a lot more than Rachel, Finn, and he usually had to go on when exploring a 'hunted' structure. His research also uncovered that at one point in the 1950s the hotel had been used as a convalescent home. Rachel and Finn had been ecstatic about that fact.

"Holy crap! It was a loony bin?"

"You can’t say 'loony bin', Finn." Rachel chided him. "It was an insane asylum."

"Mental hospital." Kurt corrected with an eye-roll, "Not that it matters, because it wasn't one. It was more like an upscale spa for rich people recovering from minor surgery or illness."

"Kurt you have no imagination. For our purposes, tortured mental patients and the spirits of malevolent doctors roam the halls of that hotel! That's way scarier."

"But there was a murder-"

"Malevolent doctors, Kurt!"

"Oh yeah, the crazy house spin is perfect." Finn had agreed and Kurt didn't fight them on the idea even if he thought the killing in the 1950s made a better and more accurate story. It wasn't as if anyone took the show seriously anyway. People didn’t watch for historical accuracy.

Now that Kurt was alone in this god-forsaken hotel, he was glad to remind himself that it had never been a mental hospital and he tried very hard not to imagine anyone being killed here - or dying here in any way.

It was just an empty building. It wasn't scary, haunted, or sinister. It was just… old. The howling sound was just the wind outside, and the creaking sound was just an old building's shifting foundation, and he did not believe in ghosts.

Kurt pulled his phone out, no messages from either Rachel or Finn. Traitors.

You better be here in the next five minutes or you're dead to me! Kurt texted them both.

There was a loud boom of thunder outside followed almost immediately by the bright flash of lightning through the windows and the hair on Kurt's forearms stood on end. "Shit," Kurt swore as he fumbled with his phone in surprise.

Even with the light provided by the lamps he had set up the lobby was still dim and ominous, he looked around the empty room, the few pieces of old furniture and the check-in desk casting long shadows in the light of his lamps. He gasped as he thought he saw something moving out of the corner of his eye and spun to face a broken window, there was nothing there, nothing outside, all he could see was his truck sitting alone under the fading streetlamp.

Kurt shook out his shoulders; he was letting himself get spooked over nothing. Maybe he should just go sit in the pickup until his disloyal ghost hunting partners finally arrived. He started towards the front door when, with another crack of thunder, the storm clouds finally opened and sheets of rain came roaring down. Water splattered in from the broken window frames, but it was still far dryer here than it would be racing out to the truck in this torrent. Kurt chewed on his lip. Fine. He'd wait inside. At least until the rain died down a bit and at that point he might just pack up and leave. This was becoming more of a fruitless endeavor by the minute.

He glanced at his phone again, caught between anger and worry that neither Finn nor Rachel had texted him back yet. He had a couple options here; he could wait in the lobby until the rain lessened, or he could make good use of his time and actually go exploring a little, taking some shots and seeing if there was anything here for a good episode of Ghost Investigators. Kurt sighed, he was Kurt Hummel and the Hummels didn't just sit around on their hands and wait.

He grabbed the handheld cam off the tripod and slowly crept past the check-in desk, the stairway looked solid enough, it wasn't going to give way under his feet at least. He could probably poke around some empty rooms upstairs. The rain rattled against the side of the hotel and the wind wailed, Kurt's spine tingled and he had to let out a long deep breath before he started for the stairs. This was silly; he was not scared of the dark. He turned the camera on and pointed it towards the staircase. "I'm going exploring while I wait for the untrustworthy Rachel Berry and her bumbling boyfriend. ‘We're on our way!'” Kurt rolled his eyes as he whispered to the camera, “Yeah, right." He started up the first few creaky steps. "No reason not to get a look around just because my partners have become completely undependable."

Kurt smoothed down his designer button-up shirt; it was midnight blue with little white crescent moons all over it. It had seemed appropriate for ghost hunting, besides, Kurt knew he looked really good in it and he never passed up a chance to look good on screen. Kurt turned the camera to face him as he paused on the stairwell."Rumor has it that the Whispering Wolf is haunted by the spirit of a young man who died here in the 1950s after being shot and killed by a jealous ex-lover. James Doyle was barely older than me when he met his grisly death."

Rachel and Finn had forfeited their right to fight him on the main story for the Whispering Wolf episode when they hadn't even shown up. The made-up mental hospital was out. The real-life murder was back on.

Kurt looked up the long staircase not able to make out the second floor in the heavy darkness. He licked his lips nervously, the camera still trained on him. It was okay to let some of his nerves show on camera; it built suspense, as long as he didn't let himself actually get too scared. He was a professional after all. "I guess I should go up there?" Kurt said into the camera before turning it around to view the dismal staircase that led up to utter blackness. He did not want to go up there.

There was a loud crash and a bang from behind him, Kurt spun around with his heart in his throat. The set lights had crashed to the ground, light bulbs popping as the curtains on the front windows flew outwards floating in the air like luminous specters. Kurt let out a startled shriek and then barreled up the rest of the staircase.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" Kurt panted once he reached the second floor and rounded a corner so he couldn't even see the lobby anymore. He leaned up against a wall and caught his breath turning the camera to face him again. He covered his mouth with a hand and laughed nervously through his fingers before letting his hand drop and taking a deep breath. "I better have gotten that on camera." He joked with his future viewers as he tried to breathe and calm the beating of his heart. "Did you see that? Sure it was probably just the wind, but you would have freaked out too if you were here alone while your co-conspirators are safe and warm somewhere probably making-out having forgotten all about you."

Kurt gently smoothed back his hair and took a deep breath, time to be brave. "I guess I'll check out the second floor now that I'm here." He turned the camera around to face the long dark hallway in front of him. "This is where the murder is said to have taken place. In one of these guest rooms." Kurt looked from the hallway down to the image of the hallway on his camera, "If there is a spirit haunting this place it-" Kurt stopped talking, his throat going dry and a cold chill running down his spine.

There was something in the hallway ahead of him. Just out of sight, he was sure he'd seen something move.

"Hello?" Kurt called out, but his voice was barely above a whisper, "Is… is anyone there?" In the back of his mind, he was just starting to think that if this was a prank by Rachel or Finn he was going to murder them – when something in front of him in the darkness moved again.

"Oh god." Kurt glanced back at his camera; the night vision making out more than his eyes could in the darkness, just as something stepped into frame. Kurt took a stumbling step backward, a scream choked in his throat, as the green night vision revealed the grainy outline of a young man.

Kurt gasped audibly and looked up from the camera to the form standing in front of him, donned in slacks, a snuggly fitting button up shirt, suspenders, a bowtie, and looking like he'd just stepped out of the 1950s to personally haunt Kurt.

Kurt screamed.

The ghost screamed back.

[Chapter 2]

#this is unbetaed #sorry about that #klaine fan fic #klaine art #sunshine writes stuff #fic: not another ghost story

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ambivalentangst · 6 years

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May They Rest at Ease

Hi!!! Long time no motivation!!! I realize I've been absent for awhile after I shat out that one thicc one shot, but I finally have something to post! It’s an original idea that I got attached to really fast: the concept of the soldiers that stayed loyal to Lotor being assigned to guard the Garrison trio, and upon learning how young they were, decided they would do pretty much anything to protect them. Involving some angst, whump, and comedy, I really like how this turned out, so I hope you do too!

tw: panic attacks, implied violence, and use of derogatory language

Trivars and Lovan were not what one would call prime soldiers, by any stretch of the imagination. Lovan had trouble doing more then a poor sprint, and Trivars currently had little to no muscle mass to speak of. Still, they’d been trained, like every other Galra in the empire. Everyone was enlisted to serve from the ages of twenty one phoebs to thirty one. For a time, they’d been in shape. They of course had to graduate top of their faction to be stationed with the main fleet, but it was easy to let loose a little when the fortress was hardly large enough to comprehend, and nobody ever actually attacked.

The rebels went after more remote locations, where it took longer for backup to reach and got the runts of the group. They got to reap the rewards of a few movements of hard work, and even when the new emperor ascended the throne, he appeared to have no desire to ship them out, which was good.

Truth be told, neither of them were all too eager to leave their little outpost, despite the fact that there’d been considerably more traffic their way ever since Voltron had been resurrected. There’d of course been the murmurs of dissent. The emperor was a half-breed, their commanders sneered, vitriol harsh in their tones. Lovan had personally looked to Trivars. They’d arrived to their current station essentially at the same time, despite the fact that their training ships were several galaxies apart from one another. It was generally kind of hard to dislike one another when they were both equally committed to staying out of as much conflict as possible, and were more content waging war on the old and very blind cook for extra servings then saying “vrepit sa” and blowing up their own ships.

“Meet me on the rec deck for cards?” Trivars mouthed, while Commander Nermant raged on. Lovan nodded, and that was the end of any protest from them towards the power switch.

It was with that kind of attitude that they got assigned to food patrol, and despite the fact that most of their superiors had jumped ship upon Lotor’s seizure of the throne, they didn’t really want their positions, so they did as they always did. Quajants, the cook, was too old to care much about the shift in rulers anyways. As long as he had his grill and pitiful variety of seasonings, he’d work.

When Lotor assigned them to the comfort and care of three of the paladins, they started to be a little mindful of his rule. The paladins, green, blue, and yellow at least, were absolute freaks, and had apparently very little regard for their own lives. They’d chased them across the ship for blowing up food packets--certainly nothing Quajants approved of--but quiznack them both if they sometimes needed a break from the surprisingly tasty brick impersonations he made. Lovan in particular had bemoaned that later, his legs aching from the exercise they hadn’t endured in quite some time. Still, there was no escaping it, and they at the very least could admire the artistry in launching the sentry out of the robeast coffin. It was a lot less disconcerting then the--shudder--witch using it for her own vile purposes, so they sucked on their popsicles and didn’t say anything about it.

It was only later that they realized that their antics were not the work of young adults having too much free time, and rather the products of cubs who desperately needed a break from the war they fought.

Lovan had first seen it, when the blue, red? It was very confusing and there were bets going around about which lion he actually piloted, but regardless, when the paladin had shown up from a recon mission out in the quadrants still in turmoil.

He had of course been there to greet him, because yeah they weren’t motivated, but they at least did what few duties they were assigned well. The paladin came from the hangars rubbing his back, stumbling into walls and clacking his teeth occasionally for no apparent reason. Lovan’s brows scrunched tightly together. He was not well versed in the way of the paladins’ species, but from what he had observed it was not normal behavior.

“Paladin, do you need to be taken to the infirmary?” he asked, and the boy had stopped, bracing himself against a wall.

“No, no, I’m fine. And I told you to call me Lance. I just got a little close to another explosion, and I still get some pain sometimes from one that got me awhile back. First foot battle I’d fought, actually,” he muttered, mostly to himself. Lovan still had his concerns, but Lance waved him off.

“I’m ‘gonna go lie down in one of the spare rooms. Lotor mentioned where they were when we first arrived, so you don’t have to show me,” he told him. Lovan resisted the urge to argue, and watched the paladin stumble away. He’d be fine, probably. He was a warrior.

Lance did not come out from the rooms quickly, and it was in fact Lovan who came in to check on him. The Altean castle ship stayed near Galra headquarters, which was certainly a change up from the norm but not entirely unwelcome. It was a symbol of peace, at the very least, a reminder that though they were soldiers they might not have to fight. Regardless of its proximity, Lance appeared to not care if the way his body was pressed wholeheartedly into the mattress was any indication.

“Uh, Lance, right?” The name was odd on Lovan’s tongue, and it came out strangely with the way he stressed different sounds. “Is there anything you need? By Galra standards, you’ve been down for quite some time,” he told him, standing off to the side. He did not care to do anything that wasn’t authorized, and have the emperor find out. Lance turned on his side with a hiss of pain, staring out at Lovan through glassy eyes. He bit his lip, seeming to debate it for a moment before asking,

“Do you have a heating pad somewhere?” Lovan nodded.

“Of course, I’ll have it brought it immediately, sir.” The “vrepit sa” he usually added at the end of such an address was on the tip of his tongue, but he shoved it down and turned away. Only out of the corner of his eye did he see the way Lance rolled back onto his stomach, hands twisted into white knuckled grips around the fabric of the sheets. He frowned.

Lovan came back to give him the pad as requested, and found Lance as he had left him.

“On your back?” he asked, and the paladin nodded. Lovan carefully set it across the boy’s skin, smoothing out the lumps in the gel as gently as he could. He was a solider, but he was not cruel. He was inspecting his work when he heard Lance sniffle, and smelled the faint salt that came from his tears.

“Lance?” he asked after a moment’s hesitation. “Are you alright? Was I too rough?” Lance waved him off, not moving from his position on his stomach.

“No, no, it’s not you. I’m just--it hurts is all. Coran had some meds for it, that’s our, uh, advisor I guess, but we ran out and I’ve been meaning to ask Lotor but he’s been busy so I just need some time. I’m fine,” he explained, but his hands hadn’t unfurled from their positions. Lovan examined him, unsure of how to respond, but knowing that if he made a move to leave, the emperor would have his hide. In line with how contradictory he was to most of what the Galra represented, the emperor had instructed both he and Trivars to treat the paladins with utmost care. With his orders in mind, Lovan crossed to the other side of the bed and sat. There was a surprising amount of room, considering how small the paladins were.

Lovan remembered his sister, older then him and with cubs of her own. He had liked being an uncle, on the rare time he had off. He didn’t know how old Lance was, the subject had never before been broached, but he did feel like something had to be done to comfort him. He stared at his hand for a moment, flexing clawed fingers experimentally, and then settled them delicately into Lance’s hair.

The boy tensed for a moment, shoulders hunching, before he let out a soft cry of pain at his own action and relaxed. Lovan twisted his hair gently in his fingertips, ran his hands gently over his scalp and down the back of his neck. Cubs calmed quickly with ears scratched and pats lavished atop their heads, but Lance did not have the same furry features Lovan was accustomed to, so he made do. He said nothing, but Lance didn’t pull away and soon the tension in his body melted away along with his tears. When Lovan looked over and saw his eyes closed, he felt content.

Lovan later told Trivars about the incident through time spent cleaning their rifles, to which he replied that he’d experienced something similar with the green paladin, or Pidge, as she preferred to be called.

She’d come back from a mission worn, a scuff on her glasses that she was apparently trying to buff out but was being stubborn. Trivars had offered his assistance, but he’d been shooed away until she absolutely burst into tears, to which he panicked because he had his orders, and he wasn’t so great with emotions.

“Pidge was crying and she started telling me about how her dad and her had gone with her brother to pick out the ‘frames’, and her dad had gone back home and Matt was on a mission. She cried for awhile, and then I got her to step away from her computer and take a nap.” Trivars stated it plainly, tongue poking from the side of his mouth as he rubbed his rag over a particularly hard to reach area. Lovan took a moment to process the information, and it wasn’t until they were putting their blasters back onto the rack that he wondered aloud,

“How old do you think they are, anyways?” Trivars paused, already halfway to the door. His lips pressed together, ears twitching.

“They’re warriors. I’d assume they’re young, if the incident with the sentry means anything, but after a year spent in training, they’d have to be twenty two phoebs, at least. I don’t know what they’re supposed to look like at that age. Humans,” the word was stretched awkwardly to accommodate fangs and a fumbling tongue, as many involving the paladin’s were, “Age differently, of course, but that’s a good guess.” Lovan nodded. Young, but not obscenely so. He didn’t dwell on it for too much longer, and raced Trivars to the rec room. He wanted the good chair, without any of the common rips in it that usually came from a botched game some soldier got sensitive about.

A few weeks later, the paladins that Lovan and Trivars were in charge of again stayed on emperor’s ship, as was becoming routine with the continuing negotiations between Voltron and what technically constituted the empire. The ship was on its sleep cycle when the alarms began to ring, and the whole thing shuddered violently, an explosion able to be heard off to the west. Lovan and Trivars, who were sleeping peacefully in their bunks, jolted awake and stumbled over each other in an attempt to get to their guns first.

They both raced down the halls, yelling at each other.

“Lotor is going to kill us!” Trivars announced loudly, cringing as the ship shook again.

“The paladins are up ahead. They said something about a ‘sleep over,’ and apparently are staying in the same room for the night. We can corral them there,” Lovan told him. He was not so out of breath as he had once been, traipsing after their charges while doing damage control for their antics. The paladins had gotten the both of them back into shape unwittingly, but effectively.

They burst into the room to find the three suited up, but crouched around the yellow paladin, who sucked in wheezing breaths as best as he could, and seemed to curl further into himself every time there was a particularly loud bang to be heard. Lance rubbed his back, while Pidge held his hands to keep his nails from biting into the skin of his palms.

“Hunk, Hunk, it’s okay. We’re all okay. Lotor and Allura and Shiro can take care of it. It’s just some of the rebels. Remember? Unorganized, scattered. It’s nothing like before.” Trivars looked to Lovan, unsure of how to proceed. Lovan shrugged. If he had to guess from their conversation, the yellow paladin was agonizing over memories of a nasty fight where an accident had happened. He’d seen soldiers in similar states under Zarkon’s rule, except of course their superiors weren’t nearly as forgiving. They could hear footsteps from down the hall, sloppy, limping. Trivars’ ears twitched, the sound still too far off for the paladins to hear.

Hunk continued to gasp, and Lance’s expression darkened, eyes narrowing.

“He’s seventeen. I’m seventeen, and I’m on the floor helping him get a panic attack under control so we can go out and fight the thing that caused it. This is fucked,” he hissed, knowing Hunk wouldn’t register it at the moment, and Pidge nodded her agreement. She kept her grip gentle on Hunk’s hands regardless.

Lovan looked to Trivars, trying to understand what had been said. They didn’t use the same terminology, but they got the gist. Lovan’s finger moved to the trigger of his blaster, and he willed himself to keep from firing. There was no enemy at the moment, and the sound would only exacerbate whatever was occurring with the yellow paladin, no, with Hunk. Trivars’ voice was hard when he spoke, claws denting the metal of his own gun.

“We’ll be in the hall. Keep yourselves safe. The rebels will be dealt with,” he explained, and Lovan followed him out the door that slid shut behind them.

The rebels came skulked towards their location with smoldering clothes and a fire in their eyes.

“Stand down,” the apparent leader sneered, despite the disarray of himself and his men. “Don’t waste your lives in defense of a half-breed.” Lovan thought of the way Lance had melted into his touch, and Trivars remembered Pidge’s hysterics after her father and brother left, even only temporarily. The memory of Hunk’s fear was fresh. Where the rebels were scorching in their intensity, they were cool and frozen over with resolve. They looked to one another, guns growing hot under their paws.

They weren’t fighters for the empire, exactly. They could care less what Lotor did as long as it was easy for them. They were, however, willing to be protectors of the cubs, their cubs, that were caught in a war they shouldn’t have to deal with.

“Vrepit sa,” Trivars and Lovan snarled, and fired away.

#garrison trio #lance #pidge #hunk #langst #whump #ambivalentlangst

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readit-weep · 6 years

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Happy friYAY, bookworms!! Best day of the week, amirite? Oh sweet Jesus this has been a whirlwind week for us 😂(in the absolute best way possible!) It’s my older brother’s birthday, so we’ll be going out to dinner with the family and then watch a movie of his choice. Do you guys have any family birthday traditions?? I'm gonna knock out a few of these challenges this weekend too! To start, @jestandhearts tagged us in #bookstagrammerlistens tag and #10favoritesongs tag. CANNOT WAIT for this one tbh. Music is my thing, second only to books and writing. These are NOT in order. It's too much work to put them in order haha, and there are sooo many others that I could list but I'm just picking at this point. 🎧 1. All the Pretty Girls - Kaleo• 2. Lost & Found - The Midnight• 3. The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot - Brand New• 4. Destroyer - Phantogram• 5. Starlight - Muse• 6. Tearin' Me Up (RAC Mix) - Bob Moses• 7. Attention - Charlie Puth• 8. Watch Me - Jaden Smith• 9. Schizophrenia - Sonic Youth• 10. Dreams - Fleetwood Mac• 🎧 I’ve tagged a few buddies to participate if they’re feeling it, but consider yourself tagged if you’re not listed 😎 comment our name because we want to see what you’re listening to!! #thebossbookchallenge (Born in the USA - red, white and blue books): I had so much fun picking these books out for our challenges. Lucien and Tamlin had a pretty great bromance (once upon a time at least haha), the Gladers from The Maze Runner series also have a pretty tight bromance (have you seen The Death Cure movie yet?), and FINALLY... how many actual bromances are there in Lord of the Rings? Sam/Frodo, Merry/Pippin, Legolas/Gimli, Aragorn/Haldir. Like, the list goes ever on and on... see what I did there?? 😏😏😏😏🤓 #allthebooksfeb: bromance

I N S T A G R A M

#booklr #bookish #bookstragram #lotr #acotar

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pigeonacademic · 7 years

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pipermccloud So far, i've made other alien species for the gems to interact with; some they've fought, some they're neutral with, others they've aided (or been aided by) and some they've opened trade with

thegemnants that's cool! i think it's really neat for the gems to actually be involved in intergalatic affairs with other species. considering how much of the universe they must've combed through, it would make sense for them to have at least met ONE species as powerful as them.

pipermccloud Yep! Could also be a reason why they need a lot of planets and why they had to quickly churn out half-baked gems for the war

pipermccloud Because resources were low by fighting an even bigger war

thegemnants in my fic, red diamond once commit genocide against an entire species which the gems were allied with, and because of that, the gems were ex communicated from the Union... which is one of the reasons why red diamond is so awful and yeah, if there were other aliens, it would make sense why the gems need more resources

pipermccloud The Union? I haven't heard much of REd Diamond Are you going to make a post on it? I need to go downstairs to check on my sisters real quick

thegemnants The Union is just a generic term I'm using to refer to the alignment between the other aliens :P and i do think you've seen red diamond, i'm probably going to draw some more intimidating pix of her

pipermccloud ! ^-^ I've seen her before, and she does look like she'll crush you if you so much aas look at her funny

thegemnants yep! because she did that horrible atrocity to the alien species, gemkinds reputation tarnished. but it doesn't end there, because red diamond was also exiled from the gempire as a whole. not just because she commit that genocide, but because of how she did it-- forcing fusion with the other 4 Diamonds.

pipermccloud BIG YIPES

thegemnants So, Red Diamond was cast out, and took her Court with her, vanishing to create her own empire. And she was gone for millions of years before returning, stronger than ever. There's more to it than that, but yeeeeah, that's red diamond's story :'D

pipermccloud DAMN SHE'S HORRIFYING Suggested nickname for her: The Red Death

thegemnants absolutely! :D Sometimes I wanna call her Blood Diamond, which is an actual term! but, you knooooow gems dont have blood :'D

pipermccloud Pfffft! True So, how is her empire like? I bet she was real rough on them now that she was on her ow n

thegemnants it's a dystopian hellscape where gems are shattered for showing the slightest bit of disrespect or noncomfority. yellow wishes she had the heart to be this intense. the only gems free from red diamond's wrath are her pearl and her zirconia, because they've been so brainwashed that they would never even THINK of doing something that would upset their diamond.

pipermccloud sent a GIF

holy cow- So, she's a dictator basically, a warmonger?

thegemnants HellllLLLL YEAH!

thegemnants and the thing is, she and her court live entirely on ships she leaves nothing left of the planets she harvests Gems from

pipermccloud OOH o-o She makes them go ka-boom. Out of not wanting to leave a trace, leave any resources for the others or just because of sadism?

thegemnants mostly just wanting to be undetectable now, what if i told you, that in my fic, there's someone worse than red diamond :'D

pipermccloud Okay, how can anyone other than Space Satan herself be more terrifying- I'm curious how o_o

thegemnants So, you may be wondering this, not just in fic sense but just in SU canon general.

thegemnants Where did the Diamonds come from? Well, a long time ago, a burst of magic born of the gap between universe brought life to a planet of carbon. Not of carbon-based minerals or carbon-based organisms, but purely of the element Carbon. "I want friends, I want friends," she cried, this living Carbon.

pipermccloud O-O

thegemnants So, from her body, she created 5 children: the Diamonds. Red, Pink, Blue, Yellow, and White. "But it's not enough" So, after a while, Carbon sent her children out to make "more friends" Thus, the first Gem Colony was created "But it's not enough, it will never be enough"

thegemnants So, the Diamonds continued to spread out, taking planet after planet, creating Gem after Gem

pipermccloud O_O

thegemnants However, after a supernova, the Diamonds were seperated from Carbon. Even though she no longer had her grasp on them, the Diamonds were still terrified of what would happen if they didn't please her. So they kept grabbing planets and making Gems.

pipermccloud holy cow

thegemnants But then, guess what? When Red Diamond was banished, she went to the other side of the universe

pipermccloud what

thegemnants AND GUESS WHO SHE FOUND AND BROUGHT BACK TO HOMEWORLD

pipermccloud CARBON

thegemnants AND GUESS WHAT CARBON DID WHEN SHE GOT TO HOMEWORLD TO PUNISH THE CHILDREN WHO WERE SO CRUEL TO HER SISTER AND SO RUDE TO HAVE NEVER LOOKED FOR HER

thegemnants SHE TOOK A BIG BITE OUT OF IT AND ABSORBED BILLIONS OF GEMS INTO HER BODY and when i say absorbed, i mean they are digesting forever inside of her while being completely concious and part of a hivemind so yeah, carbon is the "final boss" of the fic

pipermccloud I cannot find a gif for the life of me to express how horrific that is So, Cluster but over 90000 holy shit

thegemnants Yep! And that's the entire reason why Yellow wants the Cluster. What better to take out a planet-sized monster than a planet-sized monster?

thegemnants It probably would've only served as a distraction, though.

pipermccloud How many gems know of Carbon's existence? For the newer ones, is she regarded as a myth?

pipermccloud Also, what does Carbon look like?

thegemnants oooh, carbon being a scary myth that agates used to scare new recruits is actually a really good idea!

pipermccloud :D

thegemnants originally i was gonna go with a 'just diamonds know', but very, VERY old gems probably know, too and carbon is like a giant, black planet, slightly larger than earth, with a face a fucked-up nightmare face and she reflects no light have you heard of hellstar remina? that's what i'm envisioning carbon to look like, but all dark and stuff

pipermccloud I haven't actually, but holy-cow, imagine her eclipsing Homeworld..a dark shadow falls across the gempire, and wait-does it have TEETH AND EYES-

heres a picture of remina from hellstar remina basically something like this mixed with the face of an elderly woman

pipermccloud !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! pipermccloud sent a GIF

You got an eye for nightmare fuel

thegemnants awww thank you ;w;

pipermccloud She's VERY terrifying, both in personality AND appearance Red Diamond is practically Mother Thersa compared to her, isn't she?

thegemnants pretty much! :'D even red is terrified of her at first red wanted to pull a "mommy, my siblings were mean to me! aren't you going to punish them?" but when carbon took that nice, juicy bite out of homeworld she immediately went to "WTF MOM THIS ISNT WHAT I MEANT!"

pipermccloud Classic mom, always misunderstanding and doing things her own way-

pipermccloud Is it likely she'll take a bite out of her own kids too?

thegemnants they'd have to do something reeeeeally bad for that to happen, so while possible, not likely not that it's much of a solace, considering she'll still breath down your neck and cause constant anxiety with her moon-sized eyes staring down at you

pipermccloud eugg I feel so sorry for all the Diamonds even Red And this also just gave me an idea for art! How many Diamonds did Carbon have again-

thegemnants 5, but she could probably make more if she wanted. she just chooses not to :D

pipermccloud "Okay, five's enough for me, this bunch is getting out of hand."

thegemnants not to mention, since she literally turns parts of her body into the diamonds, it would probably hurt a lot huhuhu

pipermccloud Ooh, planet-version of labor pain I'm going out on a limb here and guessing she likes Red better than the others? thegemnants Well, in her eyes, Red DID come and find her, even if it wasn't actually intended. So, she probably liked Red the best. Speaking of RD's dystopian style gempire, how much does it differ from Homeworld?

thegemnants i guess it's just really... tight. homeworld as we see it in the show seems pretty bland and generic as far as alien empires go, but in my fic, i want it to be like a mirror of earth where some things are similar but the things that are different are so vastly different that its hard to wrap your head around it. (not saying that my version is better, im just not a fan of the way this show is handling its mythology)

thegemnants Whereas Red Diamond is just a complete warrior culture where none of the members have any free time at all (except for RD's Pearl and Zirconia)They're always training, training, training, working, working, working. Ship builders and engineers and mechanics have to be constantly on their toes, since the Court lives solely on ships Soldiers have to be constantly sparring one another until exhaustion cycles into movation Sapphires have to novelize any and all visions Mages have to work on spells, Tourmalines have to work on maps, Agates have to constantly supervise, etc etc etc There is literally no room for anything else

Architect wise, how do the ships look inside and out?

thegemnants big enough to be cities, but inside, it's mostly just angular and grey monotonousness. but the gems in RD's court are just so used to it that they can tell the slightest differences in these highly-similar locations to find their way around and yes, shattering always is a fear sans those higher-up, who are the only ones allowed to show any sign of slack Do they have a uniform or is it a variety, as long as it allows them to function?

thegemnants it's all uniform per gem race, although, i suppose somewhat thankfully, red diamond does like to get fancy with it thegemnants I feel like she'd prefer to stay sedentary unless she has a reason to move. Although I also think she has a room where she goes when she's upset where she just fucking beats up statues to get her stress out. @ufolotus

#please keep tis safe #omputer is ating te gufuk up and i ant een type a lot of letters i ae to opy and paste and i may need to get a new one but i migt not be abe

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lilydoughball · 5 years

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What seems like 2 seconds ago (but was actually the weekend before last – eek!), we packed up our bags and travelled into deepest darkest Dorset, to attend End of the Road festival at beautiful Larmer Tree Gardens. I feel well and truly spoilt by this summer, it really has been a good ‘un; we didn’t attend any festivals last year, and this year we got to go to two! After Glastonbury and my trip to Padstow I feel like I am really getting used to this camping malarkey, and couldn’t wait to crack the tent out again and set up home at EOTR.

As soon as we arrived and started exploring End of the Road we began drawing comparisons to Glastonbury, and soon decided that it was just all the nicest bits, condensed. EOTR is a relatively young festival – it celebrates its 10th year next year – and as such has retained the charm and energy of creating something awesome and new, and in a much more relaxed and friendly atmosphere. The whole site is really small as well, meaning you can get from one side to the other in about 10 or 15 minutes, and I’ve heard the organisers purposely keep ticket numbers low, which means you never feel crowded.

Don’t get me wrong – Glasto is an experience, but its like the wise old (slightly eccentric) uncle of festivals now, with its sprawling fields and mechanical spiders and ribbon towers and rabbit holes, and its nice to give the support to the smaller guys. End of the Road is like Glastonbury’s cool, bearded, bespectacled nephew, who has cherry picked the best eateries, drinks fantastic local ales, likes hanging out in Victorian gardens, and has exceptional taste in music.

One of the reasons we chose End of the Road was because the lineup was absolutely outstanding – John Grant, Tune-Yards, Richard Thompson, Ezra Furman, Sweet Baboo to name but a few. It was as if someone had given me a pen and asked me to write down my favourite artists of the moment, then curated a festival around that (I wish!). Of course, I worship at the altar which is 6 Music, as all good people should, and was amazed at how many other acts I knew simply from humming along to their tunes on the radio.

The whole site, it seemed, was filled with the 6 Music demographic – the collective age of EOTR seemed to be slightly older than other festivals I have visited (I’m thinking of Reading here, when I say older I mean my age and upwards), and I was pleasantly surprised at how many young families with small children there were. This only added to the lovely atmosphere, and coupled with the amazing setting, the incredible food on offer, and the very reasonable price of ale at the bar, created a home-from-home feel to the proceedings.

I didn’t dare take my SLR for fear of dropping it in a toilet or it getting trampled or something, so I took a chance on my Lomo Smena, which I hadn’t used for a few years! I’m amazed that these photos actually turned out, but I took a few on my phone just in case…

I cannot tell you how good the food was. One of the nicest things about modern festivals is that you don’t have to eat cheap crap sausages or burgers or those giant yorkshire puddings which set you back about £8, there is an amazing selection of proper decent grub on offer, and EOTR was no exception. The above pancake bar did the best coffee I have ever tasted (and had the queue to prove it at 9am!) and the rotisserie next door could do you half a roasted chicken plus a mountain of little roast potatoes for £7. The ice cream was awesome too – I had peanut butter ice cream with hot fudge, and had to give up half way through which I was quite upset about. Props also go to the Rac Shack, who did exceptional croque monsieurs and a fancy bacon and cheese breakfast sandwich which sorted me right out on Saturday morning.

One of the best things about End of the Road, as well as the countless tasty snacks, the excellent music line up, and the beautiful gardens it was situated in, were all the whimsical touches dotted around the festival. The trees along the woodland path were filled with fairy lights, balloons and little creatures, there were sculptures made out of hay, messages cut into leaves and a giant Walkman named after one of Hollywood’s finest. My favourite festival nuance had to be the Secret Post Office – chaps and chapettes in blue shirts, red bow ties and braces who could deliver your hand-crafted, hand-written, hand-glittered note to anyone on the festival site, provided you provide an accurate description of the recipient. We sent one to the guy in the massive orange tent camped next to us who played soothing music on his guitar in the morning, and were very excited when we spotted him walking around the festival with it poking out of his top pocket!

Another highlight of the weekend was after watching John Grant on the Saturday evening, when we ventured into the deepest part of the woods towards the Comedy stage, to watch the 80s children’s TV show-inspired spectacle that is Knightmare Live. It was one of the most surreal things I have ever experienced – standing on a steep slope in the woods at 1am watching drunken audience members don a helmet and shuffle around the stage directed by a man in a pretty impressive cape and full face paint. Halfway through the giddy drunken enjoyment things got slightly serious, and one of the performers had the terrible duty of informing us that we were simply having too much fun, and one of the neighbours had complained that we were making too much noise. Obviously this was met with cheers from the audience, to which we were told to proceed with 100% enthusiasm, but 78% volume. It was brilliant. Their stage show looks pretty hilarious, too!

All in all, we had such an amazing weekend, and were incredibly sad when we had to pack up our tent in the rain and head back home. We are definitely buying tickets for next year, especially if its packed full with all the secret post, woodland creatures and adventurers as it was this year. I’m probably going to do another festival as well, if you’ve got any suggestions I’d love to hear them!

#lilydoughball.com

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pokemonmasterpaulo · 7 years

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Row On (Part 2)

[Rusty]

I wave yellow fliers as people pass by. “Join Crew!” I shout over them. A few people jump back in fear, while others grab the fliers tentatively.

While waiting for his friends to finish talking with Coach, a sophomore stands in front of the Tri-fold poster board and examines the whole thing with a huge smile on his face. He moves closer to read the captions under the photos, then trace the bubble letterings of “UMBC CREW” I had glued on top of the board. I’m really hoping he doesn’t see some of the misspelled words I had forgot to correct while finishing the board this morning.

“I can’t believe you guys actually raced against schools like Harvard and Yale.” He exclaims with wonder. “What’s it like?”

I let out a hearty laugh and scratch the back of my head. “I haven’t done that yet. I just joined the club last semester!”

He silently mouths the word “wow” before thanking me again and walking away with his friends. They disappear in the middle of the room, into a crowd of cautious students checking out the different club sports offered here at UMBC. Over twenty gray tables replace the Ping-Pong and pool tables that usually lives here in the spacious Game Room, forming a large U-shaped chain of rectangles. Fortunately for us, the Crew table sits near the main entrance to this room, so people will see us as they come in. I can hear even more noise blaring from the entrance as other clubs and groups do their best to recruit new members for the semester all throughout the Commons building.

A warm feeling wells up from my chest, and I put my hand over my heart. What if that Sophomore and everyone else show up, then end up liking Crew, just like me? I want everyone who signs up today to feel the same thing that I did when I first joined the club.

“You okay?” I hear Coach Marco ask. I see him sitting down behind our table. I’ve never seen him wear anything that looks professional, but today he’s wearing a blue checkered button-up shirt with a blue and gray striped tie that he loosened up just a bit. He even shaved the depression beard that lived on his face for a while now.

I grin as I put my hand down. “Yeah, I just I couldn’t imagine Involvement Fest happening indoors, but somehow they managed to pull it off. Plus,” I lift up the sign-up sheet. “It’s only been 10 minutes, but we already have fourteen people interested! Isn’t this great?”

Coach furrows his thick eyebrows for a moment but gives me a reassuring smile. “You’re right, and I think most of that came from your friendly attitude.”

“Yeah, you’re doing really well as our wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man.” Tucker replies. He stands next to the Tri-Fold, only wearing a pair of tight-fitting compression shorts while holding an oar with each hand. For some reason, his body has an eerie sheen under the fluorescent lights. “I mean, it’s not your fault. You’ve never raced. You barely know anything about rowing.” Tucker winks at a passing Freshman from my dorm, who immediately walks away from the table.

Coach rolls his eyes. “Leave him alone. And didn’t I tell you to put a shirt on? We’re gonna get in trouble if they see you like that.”

Tucker shrugs. “We won’t get in trouble; I’m only lightly-oiled.”

“Then, is there anything else that I can do to help?” I ask hopefully. Coach turns to me with a concerned look. “I want to pull my weight with keeping this club going.”

Tucker leans in towards Coach. “He should have said ‘Keeping this club afloat’ instead.”

Coach mutters. “Yeah, it would have been an awesome pun — I do have something for you to do!” He raises his voice so suddenly that I jump back just a bit. “You can help Dietrich and Mike bring some ergs from the RAC. They should be heading back now, but they’ll need help carrying it up here.”

“Consider it done!” I skip past the tables and make my way to the entrance of the Game Room. People immediately step aside as I get near them; I don’t blame them, because seeing someone as tall as I am skipping towards them would probably be scary.

It’s even louder outside the Game Room. The next hallway on the right leads to the “Student Orgs” space where I think all of UMBC’s Greek Life has set up tables. Banners and signs decorated in Greek letters line the hallway and well-dressed upperclassman walk past me. I could hear K-Pop blasting from speakers from the lower levels of the building. Involvement Fest truly has taken over the Commons today.

After almost slipping twice on the main stairs of the building, I hear someone scream “RUSSELL RAPTOR!” somewhere nearby. Before I even turn around, I could hear Liza running towards me from the side. I bend my knees just a bit and catch her just as I turn around. She always smells like lemons and oranges, so I could feel my sinuses clear up immediately.

“LIZA LLAMA!” I shout back at her. We let go of each other and take a few steps back. She wears her small red coat over her Hello Kitty t-shirt, making her look even younger than she is. She seems to be traveling light today; I know she has classes but she doesn’t have a backpack or books on her. “Where’s your— Oh.” I look behind her and see Jeremy Cazares carrying a black shoulder bag and a pink umbrella. “That’s not nice, Liza Llama. My roommate is not your butler.”

Liza and I start cackling. She grabs her bag and umbrella from Jeremy and thanks him before the three of us walk towards the lower level exit of the Commons.

“Wanna come to class with us?” Liza asks, pulling on my sleeve. “It’s just Calc 3, it’s not too bad! There’s a bunch of other Freshmen like us there so you won’t stick out!”

“Rusty’s in Pre-Calc this semester!” Jeremy chuckles, punching me on the shoulder. “And have you seen this man? He sticks out wherever he goes!”

“Well, he can just doodle on my notes!” Liza grabs her umbrella as I open the glass door for both of them. “You still owe me a drawing, remember?”

Drops of water hit my face as we leave the Commons. I completely forgot that it was raining outside. The Quad, a square patch of grass between four buildings, is the spot where Involvement Fest was held last semester. I guess it’s a good thing that they brought everything inside this time. Even the concrete trail that cuts diagonally through the Quad looks drenched in the rain. The sound of rain at least replaces the noise of Involvement Fest out here.

We pause, hesitating to walk into the cold rain. Liza hands me her umbrella. “You’re the tallest. You hold it.” With a flourish, I open up the umbrella and shield both me and Liza. She moves closer to me, hugging me just above my waist and pushing her face right below my sternum.

“Wow.” Jeremy remarks, zipping up his jacket and raising the hood over his head. “I can never get used to this. The height difference is seriously unnatural.” Liza and I look at each other. I’m just about 7’1, so the difference is probably insane to see when I’m at least 2 feet taller than her.

Half-way across the Quad, I spot Dietrich and Mike pulling four rowing machines out the backdoor of the gym. I wave at the two of them as I say goodbye to Liza and Jeremy.

“I’ll visit you later after my lecture!” Liza shouts as we begin to walk our separate ways. “I have to show you a cute puppy video that I saw last night!”

I keep waving my arms at Liza and Jeremy until I’m almost face to face with Dietrich and Mike. They’re wearing waterproof jackets, but their exposed heads are now wet thanks to the rain. I greet them both of them as we bump fists.

“Hey there, big guy. Here to lend a hand with these ergs?” Mike hands me one of the two rowing machines he has and we push them towards the Commons. Saran wrap covers the long rowing machines, shielding it surprisingly well from the rain. The tiny wheels in the front squeak as we go over puddles of water. “And you should just call him ‘Diet,’ you know. We’re all friends here. Marco is the only person who calls him by his name.”

“Speaking of friends…” Diet says, keeping his voice low. He effortlessly pushes two ergs at once next to me. Small drops of water begin to stick to his glasses, but I guess he can’t do anything about it. “That girl you were talking to…”

“Yeah, I was just telling Diet about it too!” Mike howls, pride beaming from his face. “I had no idea you had game, bro. Are you going out with her?”

I feel my face get hot as I laugh. “I haven’t asked her out, but I do have a thing for her.” Mike grabs me with his free arm and pulls me in for a hugs.

“My man, Rusty!” Mike releases me. “Just make sure to always ask for consent and always wear protection—-”

“That girl is a coxswain for Varsity.” Diet cuts in monotonously.

After a short pause, Mike turns to me. “Forget everything that I just said. Don’t date her.”

“Wha–?” My jaw hangs open.

“It’s a curse.” Diet explains, turning to me. “Dating a teammate is always a bad idea.”

“Why?” I ask, suddenly feeling concerned. “I mean, we’re not technically in the same team. She’s with the Women’s team, and we’re basically just a club, aren’t we?”

“We practice around the same time and place, though.” Diet continues as we reach the lower entrance of the Commons. He pushes the blue button on the side of the entrance, causing the doors to open automatically. “You’ve seen what happened to Marco and Lily. I’m just hoping it stays pretty tame between them.”

“But… but why is there a rule against it though?” I ask again, pushing the erg through the door and into the building. The suffocating roar of Involvement Fest surrounds me again. “I’ve been in a couple of sports teams before Crew, and I’ve never heard of that rule.”

“The reason, my friend…” Mike replies, heading towards the elevators on the right side of the lower lobby. “… is very simple to explain.”

Diet tries to suppress his laughter. “This theory again?”

“It’s a solid theory, don’t laugh.” Mike hisses, pushing the call button. The fire in his eyes matches his hair. He pulls out a pocket knife and slices up the Saran wrap on the ergs. “You see, Rusty. Everyone in crew is a little crazy. With the amount of time we train and how close we get during practice, a few people are bound to like each other. And if you combine one kind of crazy with another…”

The elevator makes a loud DING! as it reaches the bottom floor. Once it opens, Diet and Mike pushes two ergs in, struggling to make both fit inside. They twist and turn the ergs until they lift up one end and rested it above the elevator entrance.

“Uhhh can you wait out there for a bit?” Diet asks, squeezing his bulky body into the elevator. “We’ll get those ergs once we bring these out on the top floor.” He turns to Mike as the door closes, who is scrunched up in the corner to make space. “Mike… Is it just me, or are these ergs stuck?”

I throw away the plastic wrap and wait a full minute before the door opens again. This time, it’s just Mike with the ergs, still stuck in the same positions.

“Don’t worry, we’re okay.” He says quickly, breathing very heavily like he’s been lifting something. I can’t tell if he’s sweating or if he’s just wet from the rain. “Diet’s already called for help, we’ll get out of here in no time!”

“Can’t I just carry the ergs up to the Game Room?” I ask, testing the weight of one of the ergs by lifting it off the ground.

“No!” Mike exclaims. His voice makes the walls of the elevator vibrate as the door begins to close again. “Just wait here! We’ll fix this!”

Once the door shuts, I push both ergs to the stairs then turn them around so my back is facing the steps. Slowly I get on the first step and walk backwards, pulling the machines up with me. The wheels on the front of the ergs make it easy to bring up each step. They’re not as heavy as they looks, but the length, shape, and front-heavy design of the ergs make them awkward to pull up like this. I continue to breathe calmly and go up the first set of stairs carefully.

I smirk as I conquer this first challenge and set my sights on the next set. As I push the ergs on the first level I realize that I’m still a little annoyed. I just want to help out the club. There are less than 10 of us right now and every little bit should make a difference. But now, something simple like carrying these weird-looking workout machines need to be delegated to the veterans of the club. I have one semester of rowing under my belt already! I can do this!

I eventually reach the last set of stairs, but I stop and try to control my breathing. As I prepare to pull the ergs again then ascend, I feel more determined and confident about being useful to this club. I have the ergs that Coach is looking for. I’m saving the day, even if they underestimated me. And one of these days, I’ll ask out Liza to dinner and—

My right foot slips on the next step. I land on my butt and drop both ergs on the stairs, slipping further and further down.

“SHIT!”

I jump back up on my feet and reach for the ergs, but I slip on another step. I lose balance and found myself diving closer and closer to the base of the staircase.

The ergs crash first. Parts fly in all directions. I close my eyes and brace for impact.

#crew #rowing #story #chapter #fiction

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