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#also my new agent 3 will probably be agent 9 for my OCs? I’m a bit unsure whether my old agent 3 would be willing to let someone else take

thebreadtree · 3 years

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SWTOR Character Meme

Tagged by @sullustangin

Tagging: @arkannis @thelesbianlegacy-swtor @shanfamilydrama @butterki @the-cauthon-legacy-swtor @thrn-shn @halibellecter @kreiadatingsim @rainofaugustsith

For this one I will exclude those toons I haven't started playing with and my replays because it would be a way too long post otherwise.

Do you have more Imperial or Republic characters?

So I counted 10 Imps and 9 Pubs which is almost perfectly balanced but still the Empire definetly wins since I am playing my Imps more often than my Pubs.

The dark side just attracts me more.

My toons:

-- 3 IA: Celeina(Neutral), Yklier(DS), Yoo'sa(LS)

-- 2 SI: Parena(LS), Vectrys(Neutral?)

-- 2 SW: Ky'rii(DS with LS tendencies), Aarvene(DS)

-- 3 BH: Tchin(full DS), Tchon(LS), Miskre(DS)

-- 2 Troopers: Reyhannah(LS), Oricii(Neutral?)

-- 2 Smugglers: Res's(LSish), Lukatee(DS)

-- 2 JK: Eprema(LS), Carriis(DS)

-- 3 JC: Rougeon(DS), Ammiey(Neutral), Raawek(LS)

Which class do you play as the most?

Agent. I have 6 of them in total and probably will have more of them in the future. All these different endings are just flirting with my inner completionist.

Also everytime I just want to do some Heroics or go achievement hunting I always grab Celeina because I just love stabbing people the Operative class.

Which race do you play as the most?

It's more or less balanced. The humans are always more though if you compare them to one of the other races.

That the humans outweigh is only because I created Celeinas descendants ingame. If it wouldn't be for them it would be a a balanced mix between all the races since I can't pick a favourite species. They all look so cool. I wanna play as all of them!

Celeina- Cyborg

Yklier- Rattataki

Yoo'sa, Tchin, Tchon- Chiss

Parena- Twi'lek

Vectrys, Oricii, Res's, Eprema, Ammiey- Human

Ky'rii, Aarvene, Lukatee- Pureblood Sith

Miskre- Togruta

Reyhannah- Zabrak(Pub)

Carriis- Cathar

Rougeon- Mirialan

Raawek- Nautolan

How many have completed KOTFE/KOTET?

So far only Celeina, Eprema and Res's but I am currently playing through Kotfe/Kotet with Parena and Rougeon and I am working on getting Ky'rii, Tchin and Reyhannah through the expansions before Kotet/Kotfe so that I can play it with them too and I am also planning to take Yoo'sa and Tchon through Kotfe/Kotet in the future.

How many have completed up too Secrets of the Enclave?

It's basically the same answer as before.

Celeina, Eprema and Res's have completed all avaibable story content so far and I am working on getting Parena, Rougeon, Ky'rii, Tchin, Tchon, Reyhannah and Yoo'sa to that point too.

Who has stayed loyal to their class romance? Who didn't?

Celeina stayed loyal to Vector. She was with Lana during Kotfe/Kotet but he choose Vector in the end. (In my headcanon she and Vector are going to break up in the future and Celeina will get back together with Lana but you can't do that ingame so...)

Eprema stayed loyal to Doc. I just can't picture her with anybody else.

Res's had a fling with Corso during her class story but rejected his proposal so I guess she stayed loyal to not commiting to anybody.

Now Parena and Rougeon have technically romanced Andronikos and Felix but I decided that they were lesbians all along and shall romance eachother halfway trough SoR so ingame they did not stay loyal but they did stay loyal to eachother in my head.

Ky'rii has not romanced anyone in his class story because he's gay.

Tchin stays loyal to Torian and Tchon will stay loyal to Mako. Same goes for Reyhannah and Aric.

Yoo'sa will not stay loyal to Raina ingame but in my head he does.

Who started a Romance with the Kotet/Kotfe companions?

Celeina I already explained.

Parena and Rougeon are both romancing Lana ingame because I can't have them romance eachother...

Ky'rii will get himself an idiot spy husband.

Yoo'sa will romance Koth. It's the only reason why I'm taking Yoo'sa through Kotfe/Kotet. I want to see Koth's romance.

And Res's basically kissed Arcann immediatly. (Those two are so chaotic together)

Who is your oldest (having played the longest)?

My oldest has been deleted a long time ago and so has been the second oldest. That would make my beloved Celeina my oldest still existing toon.

I still kinda remember my first two toons. The first one was a SI who was a pale Vampire DS Bitch and the Second one was a some LS SW who still got DS corruption because back then I didn't knew you could change your allignment.

Who's you newest?

Good question. I had a "Make a bunch of new OCs" night a few months ago so I can't really tell anymore but I think the last one I made was Jora Malvice.

She is a Cyborg Operative. I don't really know why I made her. I guess I just wanted another agent that goes stabby stab a cool looking Cyborg.

I would show you a picture of her but this piece of a toaster I'm playing Swtor on is currently having his 5 minutes.

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vahrid · 2 years

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I posted 49 times in 2021

23 posts created (47%)

26 posts reblogged (53%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.1 posts.

I added 45 tags in 2021

#my art - 12 posts

#art - 9 posts

#marvel oc - 5 posts

#marvel - 5 posts

#agents of shield - 3 posts

#oh well - 3 posts

#oc - 2 posts

#aos oc - 2 posts

#devyn taylor - 2 posts

#wanda maximoff - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 123 characters

#also did i change the side designs on her buzz to spiderwebs despite the fact that that will easily give away her identity?

My Top Posts in 2021

If I’m ever kidnapped/captured, the people responsible better put me in a place with great acoustics so I can sing hauntingly and make them regret their choices, or scream like a banshee till their ears bleed.

6 notes • Posted 2021-08-27 11:06:56 GMT

me and my friends had a fun bonding time over the trailer. I realized there was a trailer and cried out “PH THERES A HAWKEYE TRAILER”

what followed can only be described as sheer and complete chaos consisting of “FUCK” and “WAIT WHAT WAS THAT” and “WAIT WAS THAT WANDA” and “EM YOUR GATORADE SPILLED OVER ME” and all of us screaming over the trailer and screaming about Christmas and trying to block out the sun and not actually being able to properly watch the trailer

7 notes • Posted 2021-09-13 15:37:03 GMT

First ship art and it’s gay

Nobody is surprised

Also two doodles of me br4aking down over marvel and then a Wanda breakdown

11 notes • Posted 2021-10-07 23:27:51 GMT

Personally, I think the Deucalion was created by a wundersmith, and I just think that'd be neat.

89 notes • Posted 2021-09-01 12:05:06 GMT

PeggyNat

Don’t mind if I just-

*slides on in with a rant about this AU, inspired by @critter-of-habit s lovely art and the Captain Carter episode of what if*

Ok so, everything up to Winter Soldier is pretty much the same, with the exception of first avenger being captain Carter

Natasha meets Peggy on the helicarrier, and Peggy and her fight side by side in the Battle of New York (Natasha definitely doesn’t get sidetracked looked at the very buff Peggy. No sir, she’s a serious spy. Very serious.)

The Winter Soldier - In winter soldier, how Yelena ties in I think she tried to escape the red room, but they didn’t like that. So they called in their Nazi friends and were like “hey want an assassin.” And the nazis were like “sure” and so that how Yelena became Hydra, and everything after that pretty much follows Buckys story. On the bridge, Natasha is the one she recognizes, which is why she goes after her. Other than the intense gay, most of TWS is the same

I also think that Peggy visits Old!Steve and Old!Bucky because they got a happily ever after for once. She spends an entire visit talking about Natasha and they just give eachother a look.

ALSO instead of Sharon it’s just a random agent who happens to be really cool, but simply isn’t into girls.I’ll probably just create an entire character for her

Age of Ultron- *kicks Brucenat away* so- mainly the same, but with Nat and Peggy. Peggys dream is kind of like Steve’s, only it’s a mix between an old fashioned party, and one of Starks, both featuring Natasha. But mostly the same. Peggy is dubbed “Aunt” by clints kids, who find it amusing to see who can climb the highest on Peggy. (Lila currently holds the top spot, and it’s definitely not because Natasha pushed her up. No, what are you talking about.) there’s a line similar to the monsters line, except it’s about the whole “oh my god I’m an assassin who’s killed countless people”

Civil War- haha were just gonna *yeets staton kiss out the window and replaces it with peggynat.* Natasha is trying to help her sister, but Yelena is being an asshole and keeps running away. Zemo still frames Yelena for the UN meeting thing, but it’s actually Sharon because I want more evil Sharon. TFATWS gave me a taste but I want more. Peggy is of course helping her girlfriend out, Clints facepalming in the background like “here we go again, adopting another mentally unstable russian.” Wanda is trying to help since she knows about mind control, Scott has no clue what’s going on but he’s a good guy and so of course is helping. Tony- isn’t actually trying to stop them it’s more like the

“I’m sorry Nat, but I absolutely cannot let you go after your sister who’s hiding *specific location* now, i need to go into this hour long meeting with Ross and his forces, we won’t be out for awhile” and Rhodeys just face palming in the background. T’Challa is of course mad, but once he realizes what’s going on, he lets them go. (He understands helping out your little sis.) Yelena ends up going to Wakanda because she has the hydra mind control, not red room.

Natasha and Peggy, on the run from the governments of the world, decide to take down the red room. Everything’s pretty much the same except gayer and Peggy takes Yelenas place (since Yelenas recovering in Wakanda) which makes for some awkward meet the parents moments.

Infinity war plays out pretty much the same.

Then Endgmame. Haha. First off, Peggy lives in th e compound cause she’s not leaving Nat alone. Second, when Tony dies, Natasha comes back. This is a headcanon of mine. Let me explain.

The soul stone requires an exchange, a soul for a soul. When Bruce snapped, he survived. He did not pass on. Tony did not. His soul was then traded for Natashas, because it counts as “a soul for a soul.” Because Tony and Nat are bros and you will never convince me otherwise.

But anyways, Nat and Peggy are alive. Peggy chooses to give up the shield, turning the role of “Captain” over to Sam. Yelena shows up, and she helps Sam out during TFATWS instead. Evil Sharon comes on in. And so does previously mentioned agent. And of course,Yelena and Sam have Bucky and Sam energy because between Yelena “such a poser” and Sam “he mastered the art of standing heroically” Wilson, you know there’s gonna be some banter

And Peggy and Nat live happily ever after in England, happily retired and ignoring Wandas mental breakdown and the whatever the heck Sam and Yelena and Zemo are up to.

I’m really sorry for that, I just have a lot of feels about this.

If you didn’t want to read all that, here’s a recap-

Peggy and Nat are in love

They are retired

Natasha is alive

Sharon is evil

Sam and Yelena are probably making bad life choices

Tony and Nat are bros

Clint is adopting way too many Russian assassins

And everything is gay- I mean, great :)

118 notes • Posted 2021-09-26 11:10:09 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #In no way am I surprised that peggynat was my top post #They should add a what was your most liked tag

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muse-oleum · 4 years

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The Flower Shop, part 3

Kingsman - Harry Hart x Fem!OC

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3;

Hey folks! Here’s the third installment of my series. I hope you enjoy it! We’re getting into it, finally. Also, I’ve just added another prompt list that you can find here, go give me some inspiration!

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none

The camelias shivered in the evening wind. By their place on the windowsill, they overlooked the entire room, with its large bed, desk and the man sitting there.

Harry’s books and notebooks had all been lost when his house was bombed to the ground, so he’d had to start again. Over the course of the past few weeks, he had purchased several anthologies and was still looking for new publications on the subject of entomology.

He missed his old notebooks, relying entirely on the scribbled pages of the battered pad he’d used during his time away.

Harry rarely referred to his time as an amnesiac entomologist as anything else except his “time away.” He was still grappling with the strange sensation of having recovered his life but he wasn’t so sure now, after so many months wishing for freedom to go find his butterflies, which life he wanted to lead.

Kingsman had been his home for decades, ever since he’d left the army to become a secret agent. But before that? He’d been so invested in becoming an entomologist that it almost surrounded him in a shroud of wing dust for the rest of his career. His home was full of them; his head was full of them; and his heart was full of them.

None of his friends had ever understood his passion for the small insects. To be honest, Harry himself did not understand it fully.

His father had been very fond of gardening, and his mother never allowed him to squash any insects he found in his room. Even if it was the biggest spider in the world - at least to the eyes of a little boy - she would just pick it up in a tissue and let it free outside. He had always supposed his interest came from them. But now, looking back on how he had cleaved to his ephemeral friends, he wondered if the root for his interest did not run deeper.

Perhaps he was fascinated by their transience? The manner in which their sense of purpose carried them to their death? He envied that. The whole of the animal kingdom, except humans, seemed to have a purpose. Harry had lost his and didn’t know how to regain it.

Sighing, he turned off the nightstand lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Before falling asleep, he remembered his promise to Rebecca to come fix her garden shed. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. At least, he had that to look forward to tomorrow.

Monday ----, 9 a.m

The chime of the doorbell accompanied Harry’s entrance into the flower shop. At the end of a cold February month, the sight of so many blooms was a welcome start to his day.

“You’re an early riser!”

Rebecca stood at her cluttered counter, snipping twigs off small branches. Harry watched, strangely fascinated, as she arranged them in an elegant bouquet. She seemed to know just where to place them.

“It’s for a wedding,” she said, matter of factly. “Apparently, the bride is fond of forest weddings and decided to go for a woodland theme.”

“A forest wedding in February? Good luck to them.”

Her singsong laugh echoed through the shop.

“Yes, the groom seemed rather resigned, poor chap. Let me just finish with this one and then we can go look at the shed.”

Harry followed, calling after her, “I didn’t bring any tools, I hope you’ve got something I can work with?”

Rebecca popped her head out of the shed. “Come and have a look for yourself. It’s in quite a state, but it still stands. My dad was strangely proud of that.”

Harry fit his broad-shouldered frame inside the small shed as best he could without towering above her. Rebecca caught his eye as he attempted to squeeze himself in, chuckling slightly.

The shed was small, built out of wood that had begun rotting many years ago. Daylight filtered through cracks along the walls and dust shimmered in the air. In the corner, a box of tools, its bright red colour contrasting strangely with its surroundings, was waiting patiently for its next use. Rebecca had arranged a large pile of fresh wood and wooden panels next to it, probably to restore the cracked walls.

“It’s dismal, I know, but the roof is still in a really good state so i’d hate it to collapse entirely.”

Harry gently pushed against the walls. The wood cracked and moaned but it held. The problem was the rot, which had weakened the overall structure.

“I’m afraid if you want it to stand for any number of years, we have to tear it down completely first. The wood is rotting. Best to rebuild entirely.”

Rebecca nodded, biting her lips nervously.

“I don’t want to ask you to do that, I thought it just needed a few repairs. But tearing it down and rebuilding it is a job for my brother; he loves to demolish things to rebuild them.”

A small part of Harry’s heart - which he refused to acknowledge - rebelled at the idea.

“Nonsense, I said I’d help and I will. We will just need a lot more wood than that.”

Wednesday, some weeks later ----, 6 pm

Dropping by Rebecca’s shop had become part of Harry’s routine. Nearly everyday after work, he’d go in, buy a few flowers and go. Every weekend, he’d drop by and work on the shed. He was grateful for the distraction it provided and, slowly, began to acknowledge that Rebecca had wormed her way into his heart.

Harry Hart had never dared to think too much about love. The Kingsman code was explicit: no attachments, no weaknesses. Eggsy and, on occasion, Merlin, had expressed how incredibly stupid and bigoted the Gentleman Guide was but the former Arthur had been uncompromising.

Kingsman was slowly adapting and changing, especially after Poppy’s missile catastrophe. A new Arthur had yet to be found but under the capable supervision of the older agents, amongst which Harry and Merlin, the newer recruits were coming into their own. Kingsman was still not operating at full capacity, what with the HQ and the London shop in ruins, but it was getting there.

Exhausted, Harry shook out his umbrella outside the shop before coming in, tucking it neatly in a corner. It had been a long day: recruits to assess, Merlin to check on (he was adjusting to his wheelchair but threw a few dignified Scottish tantrums along the way) and paperwork to work through.

The smell of freshly cut flowers greeted him and, immediately, he felt better. March had brought an early spring and the blooms were peeking shyly from under their green little sprouts.

Harry heard a commotion in the back room and, nerves on alert, made his way slowly towards the garden. Carefully popping his head in, he saw Rebecca, on the ground, looking under the sofa and murmuring soft words of encouragement. Eventually, a small kitten emerged, sniffing her fingers curiously. He meowed a few times, noticing Harry by the door, and meowed even louder, asking for food.

“I believe this little lad is hungry.”

Rebecca gasped, nearly bumping her head on the sofa.

“Harry! You scared the living daylights out of me!”

He held his hands up, taking one step in, chuckling slightly.

“My apologies. You looked terribly busy.”

The shabby little cat, meanwhile, completely disinterested in the antics of those two humans, had made his way towards the kitchen, no doubt drawn to the smell of soup hanging in the air. One or two loud meows later, a large bowl full of ham and leftover meat had been placed for him by the table and he happily forgot all about everything else.

“I found him in the street this afternoon. It was cold and he was shivering and crying, so I brought him in. He wasn’t a fan of being carried somewhere new and he hid under that couch for a solid hour before you came in.”

“Well, he’s one lucky cat.”

Rebecca laughed softly and shook her head, her long curls bouncing around her forehead. Harry resisted the urge to tuck one behind her ear. Tying an apron around her waist, she made her way towards the stove to check on the soup.

Harry observed her, sleeves rolled up to reveal creamy skin, feet tapping lightly to no rhythm in particular, curls pinned up by a clip, out of the way. He felt his heart give a little tug and, unable to stop himself, took a few steps towards her.

She didn’t seem to notice, absorbed in diagnosing what exactly was missing from the soup. The warm smell of tomatoes made Harry’s mouth water. He could tell what was missing from that distance.

“Have you added basil?”

She looked up at him, noticing his closeness, and a pretty blush spread over her cheeks. She tasted one more spoonful before smiling broadly, dashing out of the door and back again. She came back with a shriek, shaking the droplets out of her hair. Harry couldn’t contain his smile.

Suddenly, as she was taking off her boots, a sparkling flash of blue caught Harry’s eye. Looking more closely, he froze. There were two blue butterflies, Adonis blues, flying around her head. One settled into the mass of pinned curls, the other kept looking for a perch.

Harry’s heart soared. how he had missed his butterflies! Their gentle movements mesmerized him and, unconsciously, he took a step forward. He didn’t notice the curious look Rebecca shot him when he reached up to touch one of the butterflies. She didn’t stop him, didn’t move, as if she knew something was happening that she couldn’t see.

Harry felt the flutter of the butterfly’s wings on his fingers and smiled. Rebecca had never seen him smile like that before. He had never smiled happily, always offered small, sad, smiles. She wondered what it was that made him so happy tonight.

The moment ended when their eyes met, Harry blushing furiously and taking a step back; Rebecca reaching up to touch her hair, her blush deeper than before.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“I’ve never seen you smile like that.”

Her tone was curious, not displeased. Harry couldn’t help but answer honestly:

“There were butterflies around your head. Blue ones. I’ve always loved blue butterflies.”

Rebecca frowned slightly. Butterflies? In this season? Surely that was impossible, and she would have seen them. Harry lowered his eyes to the ground, realizing how utterly mad that must have sounded. He was ready to take his leave when she said:

“I love blue butterflies too.”

Taglist: @justawriterinprogress; @tonystrksslut; @emilyyblackkk; the-sea-belt; @flybi91

Comment below if you want to be added to my HH taglist!

#harry hart #kingsman #harry hart x oc #harry hart x reader #harry hart x fem!oc #the flower shop #part 3 #original work #kingsman: the secret service #Kingsman: the golden circle #fanfiction #kingsman fanfiction #original character #original female character

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justanalto · 3 years

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first 20

I was tagged by @daisylincs (ily lily!!!) for this super cool writer’s challenge!

Guidelines: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all.) Choose your favourite opening line, and tag some friends!

i don’t even remember the last twenty things I wrote, so this is going to be interesting...this is also going to cross fandoms and I think that’s hilarious

1. i haven’t met the new me yet (star trek: discovery, i take a bat to jola)

“Loss is funny, Keyla thinks.”

2. cowardice is sugary (star trek: discovery, jola)

“Hey, how many marshmallows do you think I can fit in my mouth?” Keyla gives the fluffy white treat an experimental squeeze.

3. if you’re gay, then you’re gay (star trek: discovery, culmets and mirror georgiou)

“Ask her about the word glee in her vocabulary, and Philippa would heartily deny it existed in hers until her dying breath, whenever it was.“

4. i made a joke, now it’s made for me ( agents of shield; unrequited skimmons)

“Jemma giggles, light and lilting, and lets Daisy's name flow easily across the board in loopy handwriting.”

5. may’s golden dragon (agents of sheild; philiinda, huntingbird, mackelena...the whole shebang and some very gay skye/oc)

“The glass pane of the door was streaked with aged grime as Phil Coulson reached out with a cautious hand, swinging it open with a single motion.“

6. every bait and switch was a work of art (agents of shield; philinda)

“December 1st , 2020″

7. dancing is a dangerous game (agents of shield - may’s golden dragon; skade)

“I think you and I both know who your royalty partner is.”

8. intertwined and overrun (agents of shield; ex-huntingbird)

“The first week she’s gone, it’s hell disguised as an angel.”

9. beautiful stranger, there you are (agents of shield; pipsy)

“Conversation: BU Bitches (BC Sucks)“

10. what do i do (with all this love for you) (agents of shield; fitzsimmons and melinda may)

“Sometimes I wonder how you’re still alive.”

11. family traditions (agents of shield; static quake)

As the sounds of shooting emanated from the range, Lincoln flattened himself against the wall outside the door, a drop of sweat running down his forehead.

12. looking back on a death wish (agents of shield; dousy)

“The first thing Daisy was able to register when she came to was the heat.“

13. just a minute to win it (agents of shield)

“Jemma, we gotta go!”

14. black coffee mornings (agents of shield; dousy)

“Clink.”

15. full (dog)house (agents of shield; static quake and melinda may)

“I need you to hide me.”

16. move on the path, but keep the flame (agents of shield; dousy)

“It’s funny, how one can spend so much time in an aircraft and still not get used to the taste of stale air.”

17. cause you were never mine (agents of shield; philinda)

“Dear Abby,”

18. i would ruin myself (a million little times) (agents of shield; philinda)

“Of course it’s the golden boy.”

19. it’s you and i in all the faces of trouble (agents of shield; huntingbird)

“Ellie, honey, we’re going to be late for school!”

20. think that we’re meant to be (supergirl; supercorp)

“Lena couldn't remember being happier than she had been in her entire life.“

my favorite opening line: probably from intertwined and overrun: “The first week she’s gone, it’s hell disguised as an angel.” (most iconic: opening of may’s.)

tagging (and sorry if you’ve been tagged!): @genderfluid-and-confuzled @the-9muses @angry-slytherin @maybebrilliant @apathbacktoyou @loved-the-stars-too-fondly @maos2013 @almostlikequake @sad-tunes and anyone else that wants to do it! (i’m so sorry my brain is absolutely fried rn lmao)

#tag things #lily #daisylincs #this was really fun!!#re writes things #i looked at this and went: huh this really maps what happened to me in quarantine huh #also me: oh i see the bats

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cuppatealove · 3 years

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Fic writer ask game

tagged by @a-wonderingmind. Thank you kindly!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

A mere 8! Just a newborn babe lol.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

55768. So I guess I’m averaging just under 7k per fic.

3. How many fandoms have you written for?

Just the one :)

4. Top five fics by kudos?

Operation Thanksgiving, Going Deeper, Pool Parties & Popcorn, Somewhere Old, Someone New, Peggy’s Thanks.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

Absolutely! This hobby comes with FAN MAIL?!?!?! How amazing is that? Also I love it when authors reply to my comments, so of course I will do it for others. We all just love that little hit of connection :)

6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Would have to be Lifeline, which was angsty because that’s what canon gave us. Although we all know there is a happy ending eventually, so I’m not sure it even counts!

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not so far, and I don’t have much inclination to do so.

8. Ever received hate on a fic?

No!

9. Do you write smut?

No, I rigorously filter out all smut as I really can’t cope with reading it, let alone writing it. It’s just my personal policy. I’m very grateful that Ao3 has such great filters, without which I probably never would have looked at fanfiction (that’s also a big part of why I was so late to the game with the AC fandom). My greatest fear is that things I write as innocently romantic will accidentally contain innuendo that I’m unaware of!

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I’m aware.

11. Ever had a fic translated?

No.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Strictly no, though sometimes with beta readers it almost feels like it ;)

13. All time fav ship?

No surprises at all, it’s got to be Daniel & Peggy

14. WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Noooooooooo don’t tempt me to say it out loud! I SHALL finish them all. I SHALL.

15. Writing strengths?

I don’t know about strengths, but I often think my defining style is “extensive internal monologues with intricately detailed descriptions of body language and where everyone’s hands are” ;)

16. Writing weaknesses?

Ahem, well anything that could even remotely be called plot tends to get lost in intricately detailed descriptions of where everyone’s hands are...

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I’d want to double and triple check with native speakers whether it sounded genuine. I’ve written the odd Portuguese term in for Daniel’s family (actually right now I can’t think if any of them are published yet), but that’s about it.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

Agent Carter

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written so far?

Oooooh that’s always tough! It’s probably got to be A Confidential Source, just because I am so in love with my OC, and can’t believe I created him!

#fic writing #ask game #thanks for the tag #about me #watch me waffle on about myself #my favourite topic lol

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shabre-legacy · 3 years

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HOW MANY OCS YOU HAVE?

HOW MANY LESBIANS?

HOW MANY BI GIRLS?

Is Vette bi?

Is Mako lesbian?

Is Temple dating someone?

Is Lana single?

Is your agent a girl?

Are your Jedi Knight and Council bottoms?

Is your Kira bi?

Have you had fun(sexual)with noc characters?

Is your trooper a girl? Did she hooked up with jaxo? Is she dummy thick? Is Elara her Lesbian GF?

Who is your thickest OC? Girl

Who is the most dominant?

Who is the sweetest princess?

Any tomboy?

If your SI is a lesbian who she dating?

Have any OC flirted with the girl from Imperial Makeb? Have they flirted with Acina?

Is anyone dating MILF senya?

ok, so that’s a lot of questions for one ask. I’m not complaining, but this is gonna be a long one.

1. So I have 20 created and a total of 41 created or planned, not counting the background characters and that’s just the swtor toons. I have so many background characters and other ocs that I’m not going to go into them, except for my 5 girls, Kyiari, Maida, Kirjula, Leita and Sylvis, because I love them as much as my swtor toons. (I love my toons background characters too but there’s so many)

2. 6 of my girls are lesbians, 8 if you add the extra girls

Jyshya Jhur, Sersere Silvpre, Adelkele Hatha, Nasea Vrava, Zohla Iyoriun, Annilai Jhasis, also Leita Naberrie (non swtor but I love her) and Kirjula Fesep from my Jedi!Vaylin AU

3. So many bi girls, as a bi girl, I must create them. So I have 18 bi girls, 21 if you count my extra girls.

Leshlaa Phizaas, Izalia Iyoriun, Leikael Shabre, Tama Riczu, Sadarie, Shaialis Coro, Elazari Kallig, Tisna Cizm, Agent Fifteen (Niaken Amia), Nohyni Lho, Tossa'caithi'sosto “Caithi”, Akiw’neli, Hletth'ivaena'lenurn “Hivaena”, Kathale Cresym, Naatha Vynee Kallig, Asihara Kallig, Pyrha Aithne Ordo Lok, Darsha Larniish Lok. Also Maida Tarkin, Sylvis Cadera and Kyiari Lesana

4. yes

5. No, Mako is bi, and has a thing for bounty hunters (then again, have ya’ll seen Akaavi, I’d choose her too)

6. Yes, that girl is too sweet not to have a bunch of people hanging around waitin g for her attention. None of my current or planned characters romance her though, she needs someone nicer then them.

7. Eh, depends on the universe. But if the commander isn’t romancing her then I’m sure she can find someone very easily.

8. Some of my agents are.

9. Some of them, but not all. Should I let you guess which?

10. In Nasea ‘s ‘verse, yes, in the others, depends, but usually yes. As a character I would say that Kira is very Bi.

11. there’s a few characters who hook up with every available option until they get in a relationship with their SO, and a couple who would probably have hookups with people along with their SO after they get together.

12. I don’t have as many troopers as I’d like. I’m still trying to come up with more ideas. But some of my troopers are girls. Nohyni did hook up with Jaxo before her and Aric get together. She is not dummy thick, she is very toned though. She isn’t dating Elara. I need to make a female trooper who does though, because I love her and would trust Elara with my life and my schedule, also she probably has muscles and could lift me like I weighed nothing and I am weak for that shit.

13. Savri or Azakee of all of them. Of the girls, probably Nesham or Neli.

14. Naatha or maybe Sadarie or Caithi (being in charge is hard, it’s harder when no one listens. Sometimes she needs to be in charge of someone who does what she tells them to without arguing or at least without high/galaxy-ending stakes)

15. Kathale or Izalia or in certain situations, occasionally Denasha or Leshlaa (Felix loves getting the chance to just spoil her in every way he can. Scourge loves that there’s a soft side to his fierce knight that no one else knows about and being able to be the one to treat her as special as she is) very secretly Jyshya. Leita

16. Most, eh all of my Mandos, and Tama I mean the girl wears a tank top, sleeveless vest and fingerless gloves. She’s worse then Leikael at the whole, not good at girly thing, and Leikael is already pretty bad. Sylvis

17. I haven’t made any lesbian SI’s yet, but little Asihara has a big preference for women and ends up with a woman, not sure who yet since all the LI’s in the story are way too old for her. (she’s like 15, when she gets off Korriban, so if anyone has ideas, feel free to let me know.)

18. ok so, embarrassing admittance here. I haven’t run any imperial characters through Makeb yet. Niaken is furthest along and she hasn’t gotten off Ilum yet. I just like the first 3 chapters of all the classes so much so I keep making new characters instead of running old ones through the expansions. So none of my characters have had the chance yet.

19. No. I don’t think any of the ones I have would, but also haven’t introduced any to Senya yet.

. I always like answering questions, so feel free to send as many as you want and I’ll try to answer them quickly

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heloflor · 3 years

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Sooo, with summer coming to an end (god the passage of time was weird this year), here’s an update about the direction my blog’s going to take.

1. About 9-10 months ago, I started imagining ideas for a Dakavendish fic called “As Time Passes”. Fun fact : the idea started from my very first MML fic, which I wrote on paper but never posted (I know it’s the very first because I mention having a new ship in the beginning). I then started building from this one chapter, turning it into more than a random oneshot. Due to that, I firstly saw “As Time Passes” as a rather short fic and basically made some kind of “skeleton” of a story by dividing the main ideas I had into chapters, thinking that it would be enough to write the story.

Recently though, I decided to take this fic a lot more seriously (maybe a little too much) and so for the last month I’ve been working on really fleshing it out, writing down info for OCs, places, how BOTT works, have a doc with info for the time-periods visited etc and want to write for each chapter what I precisely want to put in, which includes chapters that make the story take its time and progress slowly (hence why just writing down the main chapters ideas doesn’t work anymore for this fic).

As of right now, I’m close to finishing the planning phase and I already have pretty much anything I need to finish the prologues. So I’ll try to finish prologue 2 by the end of the month, but I can’t make any promises (the first prologue is already posted and looking at the date makes me sigh because I’m taking so much time for fuck’s sake !)

Aside from this fic, I also came up with three other ideas for oneshots talking about the rogue arc (because of course I did…) + something about “A Christmas Peril” and maybe something random. But I want to focus on Prologue 2 before working on those.

2. Miitopia. When the game came out on 3ds, I played the game a lot and made a team with Undertale characters (more precisely Humantale but that’s beside the point).

So when the game came out on switch, I bought it and made characters for the team using my current obsession, aka MML. And with my wish to complete the game 100%, I play it on a daily basis (trying to get my main level 50 for all jobs, currently 6 more to go). This means that I have quite a lot of pics and videos of it.

For a while now I’ve been wishing to share all of those pics and videos but never took the time to do it. So I might as well do so now. Because this game is very dumb and I absolutely ADORE it for that and I really wanna share some of the stuff these miis say.

Btw I don’t trust myself to do cartoon characters with the mii maker tool so my team is made of miis that resemble the characters. I also used other people’s shared miis for any non-team character and some are pretty funny fits.

I’ll probably make a tag like “Milotopia” to put all this spam in since I don’t really want it to show up on the show or the game’s tag .

3. As mentioned in the part about “As Time Passes”, I made something that describes precisely how I see BOTT work (different jobs possible, rules, how to become an agent, ranks, even emergencies procedures) and I’ve been wishing to share it.

That’s actually why I made a few posts Thursday, I was trying to get myself to post this.

Because the “”“issue””” is, there’s a part in this BOTT infodump about how, no matter how inclusive BOTT is trying to be, agents face discriminations since the agency is about time-traveling. So I talk about the limitations the agents are forced to comply with when time-traveling (you know like how some of my fics have Cavendish worrying about homophobia, forcing the duo to hide their relationship ?).

But since I never talk politics or social issues on this blog (I want my blog to be a space where people can just read about cartoons without worrying about all the stuff going on in our world), I was worried that some people might get the wrong impression from this post.

This worry is actually pretty dumb because, when it comes to social issues, I think my mindset is close to the ones my mutuals have ? To keep it short, let’s just say that, if I had to reblog one post that talks about those topics, it would be that one post saying “this blog supports POC/queer people/autistic people/every religion etc + dni if you’re a p*do, f*cist, exclusionist etc”

Tbh I think I’m going to reblog that post after all. Also I could probably take the time to add something in my bio (like a “exclusionist/f*cist/p*do dni” type of thing).

But still, since I’m afraid for no reason to have troubles with this post, I’ll keep the info about BOTT on the side for now. I’ll most likely post it after Prologue 3 of “As Time Passes” since it’s in the topic.

Though, if some people read this and get really curious about the BOTT info and start requesting it, I guess I’ll consider it okay to post it sooner ? 🤷‍♂️

4. Regarding the end of summer : So I’m currently 21 and have been studying for the past few years. But with the pandemic, working from home had been really hard for me.

Right now, I’m at a stage in my studies where I can take a break (I don’t live in the US). And since I’m a privileged bastard with parents who won’t throw me out, I’ll be taking a break in my studies this year. This means that I’ll have the time to be more active here (since I’ll have time to write).

I’ll also start streaming video games by the end of the fall. I haven’t touched a mario game in months and I’m really missing it.

Tbh I’m mostly taking the year off because I know for a fact that, if I study while still forced to stay at home, I’ll fail for sure. So I’m hoping that things will get better next year.

Though, it also feels good to say “fuck you” to the system and simply take a year for myself, trying new things, write more, maybe learn to draw, finally having the time to focus on starting my transition.

But yeah, long story short, I’ll be around more, probably will post more, and I’ll do gaming livestreams in which I would most likely encourage people to talk to me about cartoons (yes I’m going to use streams as an excuse to infodump). I might also take some of my longest posts and make them on a video format, but It’ll take a while since I need some experience on editing for that.

5. I might start reblogging more texts posts from more shows I never talked about but watched.

#Flor talks #personal #a random little update #like each time I leave tumblr for a while #now time to go back to find that post to reblog #and then go back to write prologue 2 #It's going to be such a long chapter...#that's what happens when you get attached to OCs and want to tell their story #then tomorrow I might start posting some mii//topia #(I love this game so much you have no idea)#long post

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legacyofabsolutewalnuts · 3 years

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@swtorpadawan tagged me in this meme, and I am hella into it. This is my favourite musing bc swtor in the canon of star wars is fucking hilarious. On a side note, for anyone who does this and chose only one oc, but has thoughts about the others oh my god do and let me know. Im a snoopy bish give them all to me. In this case I’m going to try to keep it brief while covering my main four, Viticalia, Thomsyn, Belville and Montym. Partly bc I’ve been thinking about their dynamics for a joint Alliance Commander AU lately

This got really long, bc I couldn’t choose one, and Im a wordy bish, so I’ve put the actual answers under the cut, so as not to kill everyones dashes

What would your OC do if they were thrown through time and into Star Wars the Clone Wars:

1. Who would they fight for?

I think most of them would either end up going independent or siding with the Republic. Montym and Belville would actually be the most likely to commit to the Republic, they’re both two people who value loyalty and understand that sometimes things need to be changed from the inside out. Thomsyn I think would stay with the Republic, but may end up with the Grey Jedi. She isn’t inclined to this whole “just peacekeepers” deal and would want to take the fight to the Sith directly. Viticalia would be an independent, committing to neither except for who would pay her most, or just destroy the CIS and take her place at the top of it. She would not be willing to submit to being ordered around by Dooku, or lord forbid Grevious or Ventress, and she definitely wouldn’t appreciate Sidious being unwilling to step up on the frontline with his troops.

2. If not a force user, would they keep their job (Would a trooper still work for this new Republic and would an Agent be loyal to the Separatists?)?

Bel would probably make a play to join the SIS. And then immediately question how the SIS went from agents like Theron to seemingly having the capabilities of two people and paperclip. I’m just saying how did no one put any of the diddly dang dots together. He’d be the type to pull off an op and then basically drop it at the Jedi’s feet like “here, give me a job.” I’ll get into why he would go to the republic in a bit.

3. Who would they hate?

Vits would despise Dooku and Sidious. She would like Ventress but find her training considerably lacking. She understand some cunning, undercover work, and what it can do, that’s why she and Bel get along, but the lack of commitment to stand beside your men and fight with them is something she despises.

Thomsyn would have some problems with the way the Jedi, but she and Montym would both have a much bigger problem with Senate oversight. They’re both used to working with politicians, but the inability to work without that oversight would bother them. Neither of them think the Jedi are infallible, but they both have a big problem with the idea of needing politicians to greenlight things like humanitarian missions.

Bel would have a huge problem with the Jedi that he keeps under lock and key. Part of it would be due to Kothe. The other part is...well he’s seen what happens when Sith lead, he doesn’t really think the Jedi should be given military power for their ability with the Force either.

4. Who would they get along well with?

Bel would actually get along really well with GAR Specforces. I think he’d adjust pretty easily to them, and people like Skirata and Vau would be comfortingly familiar as Bel actually got along really well with Shae and Torian. And he would very much enjoy the troopers, he understands their mindset, and especially with the Commandos, they understand the importance of intel people like Bel are meant to provide. He’d also be all in to spar with the ARC’s, and hone his skills against theirs.

Montym would have had a romantic crush on Obi-Wan within five seconds of the man dramatically dropping his cape and that’s really all there is to it. He would also get along well with Senator Organa.

Like I said earlier, I think Vits would have liked Ventress, and probably tried to poach her as an apprentice in a damn second. Thomsyn I’m not really sure who she’d get along with best.

5. What would they think of the Jedi Order?

Viticalia has, and always will be fascinated by the Jedi in that sort of detached, research-esque way. Otherwise she doesn’t care about them much, although she does find it a bit amusing to watch some of them tout the ideals of the Republic as things go down hill. She at least never had any misconceptions about the Empire. Thomsyn and Montym sort of understand how the Jedi could have come under such heavy control of the Senate. They both would have hoped for better, but aren’t that surprised, not after Saresh.

Bel could not care less about the Jedi. Likes them well enough individually for the most part, but that’s his approach to any and all force users really.

6. What would they think of the “rule of 2” Sith?

Viticalia thinks its the stupidest thing ever. Probably starts taking on as many slightly sensitive people as she can and calls them her Apprentices just to piss off these new “Sith”. Really she’s just adopting herself a bunch of children, but it counts and that’s all she cares about.

7. What would they think of having a clone and droid army fighting instead of typical soldiers?

Bel understands what its like to be treated as less than a person. As an asset only. It’s still something he does to himself, thinking about himself as only an asset or a liability, which is a mindset Theron’s working on having him get rid of. So he would sympathize pretty heavily, which is part of why he’d go to the Republic. He’s turned the tide of a war and saved countless of his coworkers in the military before, he would try it again.

Viticalia and Thomsyn would have more practical issues with the idea a droid army. They aren’t creative, they can’t interpret, and they aren’t built for every situation. Thomsyn however would have a lot of problems on the legality of clones, whereas Vits is used to slavery and is prone to forgetting about how that works.

Montym thinks the whole idea on either side is terrible, for various reasons, but cannot stand that clones are not legal citizens but the Republic uses them anyhow.

8. If Republic - if they became a general in the army what would their relationship with their clones be like?

I think Montym would accept a position as a General, Thomsyn...maybe for a while. Montym is a little better with handling the cost of war, whereas Thomsyn counts on herself to keep everyone around her alive. I think they’d both be on good terms with their troopers, Montym would take a bit longer, he’s quiet and a bit...odd, but when he likes people he makes it clear. Thomsyn would get close to them quickly, and each death would hit her pretty hard.

9. If Imperial - what would they think of the complete lack of sith and excess of droids in the Separatist army?

Viticalia has soooo many problems about tradition with the way the Sith operate, but in particular thinks the CIS is...stupid. The idea of a civil war is fine, sure, but their execution is lacking. Bel thinks they’re stupid but also finds it very funny. Terrible tactics, questionable leadership, not a good spy in sight... but he also thinks the way the Republic has alienated so many of their own...well he’s seen it before with Imperial worlds, and after Saresh it isn’t surprising. He’s largely disillusioned and just wishes someone would learn from their mistakes already. Part of what would push him to join the Republic in this case would be that he values peoples lives a lot more than droids, and he hasn’t valued the Sith as leaders in a long time, so he has no reason to go to the CIS and as far as he’s concerned, Republics got the better chance.

10. Consider they were born in this era - where would they fit in Clone Wars canon?

This I’ve actually thought about this a bit. Thomsyn and Montym would be still pretty much the same, Jedi, although Thomsyn would not have joined the Grey Jedi in that AU as she would be more accustomed to what this Republic is like. Viticalia I would go with a Jedi who leaves the order eventually, simply because it would be really fun to explore a much more light-sided Vits. Bel’s a bit more difficult to place, in a society that doesn’t put as much importance on genetics and perfection, he would have the chance to do whatever he liked, which he didn’t in the Empire. In an au that follows his canon life a little better, he would probably join the SIS, but more likely as an anaylst or undercover agent, not as a sniper and agent.

Honestly time travel and born in that era, they’re def aus I’ve thought about writing

#tag meme #Viticalia Volcatius #Belville Abelard #Thomsyn #Montym #swtor #my ocs #swtor ocs #thank you for tagging me!#this was really fun #and I adore these au musings

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alonely-dreamer · 4 years

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The Valuable Sun | Chapter 13

Summary: The one where Russell Edgington comes in.

Pairing: Eric x OC

Warnings: 18+

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

PS: You can also support me on Patreon if you wish/can! Any support is highly appreciated! Chapter 14 is available there right now! Find me @ patreon.com/alonelydreamer

Words: 2737

Masterlist

The floor and the air were getting colder as the hours passed. Brooklynne could tell when it was daytime because the Magister, who wouldn’t stop torturing Pam, not even to rest, was starting to bleed from his eyes and his ears, even his nose. He once debated out loud if he should feed from Brooklynne, no doubt to scare both Pam and her, who was supposedly the vampire’s, though he did nothing of the sort. Tru Blood only. Some of his men brought a few bottles before they went back to sleep. When the first day was over and night had finally arrived, more men came by to bring more Tru Blood and see if their boss needed anything else. For some reason, he asked them to take Brooklynne to the bathroom and to get her something to eat, at least remembering humans had more vital needs than vampires.

“You have no right to keep a human here against her will,” Pam had said, which had awakened in him some sorts of sympathy towards the telepath.

From what Brooklynne understood, he was one loyal agent of the Authority and he would rather die than break any law, which is probably why he made sure Brooklynne wouldn’t be starving to death as he kept her near him, tied to the same pillar with those same cold metal chains and on that same dirty floor.

She carefully kept watch on her internal clock, waiting for Eric to come back before the two-day deadline. It was extremely hard to stay focused as Pam’s screams of pains were only getting louder. She was drowsing, sometimes falling asleep for a short time before being awakened by another of Pam’s screams.

But, eventually, she fell asleep, too exhausted to stay awake, her brain getting used to the environment and the incessant screams. This time, it wasn’t Pam who woke her up. It was a scream, a shout, but it wasn’t Pam’s.

“Enough!”

She woke up in a jump, her head hitting the pillar behind her.

“Eric,” she heard Pam breathe out, the relief obvious in her unusual tone.

Eric’s eyes quickly moved from his progeny to his human, though, like the other night, they didn’t linger.

“Mr. Northman,” the Magister sighed as he put down his torture instruments on the table where Pam was attached to with silver chains. “It’s only enough if Bill Compton is with you. Is he?”

“No, Magister,” he said, with a calm and assured tone that made both Pam and Brooke confused. That answer wasn’t what any of them were hoping for. “But the queen of Louisiana is.”

As he finished his sentence, a beautiful red head wearing a white elegant suit and white high heels walked down the stairs. She appeared behind the Viking with a disgusted look on her face as she looked around the basement.

Brooklynne looked up at the Magister who looked even more confused than she was.

“Our deal was…”

“I’ll confess that you were correct before in suspecting me. But everything I did was at her behest.”

The Magister frowned then stepped away from the table where Pam was shivering on.

“You realize, of course, you’re committing treason…” he said as he walked towards the two vampires, “throwing your queen under the bus as you are.”

Brooklynne’s heart tightened in her chest as she became not only nervous, but also scared, for her vampire. Treason sounded like something one would be put to death for.

“Oh, but she’s no longer my queen,” Eric replied. “My loyalty is to Mississippi now.”

“And Mississippi is proud to welcome Mr. Northman as her own,” a voice said from the top of the stairs.

The door slammed behind him, the sudden appearance startling Brooklynne. The vampire was elegant, wearing a dirty grey jacket above his clear blue shirt. He appeared short next to Eric though anyone would appear short next to him, but he also seemed shorter than the queen of Louisiana.

“Love the place, love your vibe,” he said as he walked pass Eric, “we must talk franchising later.”

The Magister laughed quietly as if anything in this situation was funny. “Russell Edgington.”

“You may call me King,” Russell said with a smile, a correction that didn’t please the Magister and that made it clear to both Brooklynne and Pam that a switch of power had just taken place.

“Is it true what Northman says?” the Magister asked Sophie-Anne.

With fear on her face, the queen took a deep breath before she nodded. “Yes, Magister,” she confessed.

“Then I’m afraid I’m gonna have to arrest you.”

The queen then didn’t look so sure. Not about herself as the fear had disappeared from her face, but about what the Magister had just told her. She turned her head to look at Russell who was smiling, somewhat amused by the situation.

“By the powers vested in me by the Authority…”

“The Authority?” Russell cut him off, laughing then at the look the Magister gave him. “Are you serious? Who are the Authority?” he asked, taking a step forward. The Magister watched him walk pass him as if he had just killed his progeny. “What gave them the authority?”

As Russell started to rant, Eric took the opportunity that the Magister was distracted to make his way towards his progeny. He discreetly looked down at Brooklynne, nodding as if to tell her that everything was going to be alright.

“You okay?” he asked Pam who nodded.

“Nothing!” Russell continued. “They took it, as I am taking it today. I no longer recognize the Authority.”

“You are aware…” the Magister started to say before he saw Eric trying to get Pam off the table, “she stays on the table!”

Eric obliged. But as Pam had reminded the Magister the day before, the Authority had no right to keep a human against her will, and neither did he. Eric quickly turned around to free Brooklynne from her chains.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, cupping her cheek in his hand.

She wanted to nod, to say yes, but no sound came out of her mouth. She didn’t even have the strength to lie. She put everything she had in trying to keep the tears from falling. As he helped her on her feet, the Magister continued his speech.

“You are aware that just saying that is a cardinal sin.”

Russell rolled his eyes. “I am aware of just what a tough little boat I’m putting you in and honestly, it is kind of fun,” he said as he took a step forward, coming inches from the Magister’s face.

He chuckled without humor. “You know I’m beholden by duty to convey your blasphemy to the…”

“To the Authority? Well, that won’t be happening. But enough about you,” Russell said as he took a step back and went to stand near the queen. “In exchange for the money she owes the IRS, Queen Sophie-Anne…” he paused to put a kiss on her shoulder. Brooklynne watched her try hard not to run away from her crazy future husband. “has kindly accepted my marriage proposal.”

“I had no choice,” the queen said with hidden disgust.

“Your Majesty…”

“Yes, my loyal subject?” Russell’s insult left the Magister speechless and the King of Mississippi took the opportunity to continue, “oh, we would be delighted if you would officiate the wedding for us.”

“I am forbidden to conduct any rights of alignment unless specifically author…”

“Unless specifically authorized to do so by the Authority. Yes, well, perhaps you have not quite grasped the subtext of our earlier exchange, but there’s a new fucking authority in town!” Russell shouted, making most of them jump but especially Brooklynne who squeezed Eric’s hand even harder as she got closer to him.

“I swear fealty now and always to the one true vampire authority in whose wisdom and justice…”

The Magister’s little tirade did nothing but annoy furthermore Russell and make him lose the little patience he had left. In less than half a second, faster than Brooklynne had ever witnessed, Pam was free of her chains and the Magister had taken her place on the table. Eric instantly made his way to her, not letting go of Brooklynne for one second.

“I’m fine,” she breathed out quickly, before either of them had the chance to ask.

The queen was getting more and more nervous, knowing that either way, she wouldn’t win. On the extremely little chance of Russell dying there and now she’d still be condemned to the true death for selling V. But if she did indeed marry him, which was the most likely scenario, she’d be married to a psychopath who was about to be on the Authority’s number one hit list. And so would she.

Russell picked up the Magister’s cane from the floor and started to admire the woodwork.

“You pathetic fool. Blindly doing the bidding of others just like humans. It’s vampires like you who’ve been holding the rest of us back for centuries,” he said before he took off the lid at the bottom of the cane, revealing a silver pointy end.

Brooklynne looked up at Eric and for once wished he could read her mind as she wondered why he would ever ally himself to a vampire like Russell Edgington. Putting her doubts aside, she decided to trust him for the time being, knowing, or hoping, he had a good explanation for this madness.

She winced and jumped as she watched Russell stab the Magister over and over again as he had done to Pam.

“You can dish it out but you sure can’t take it, can you, Magister?” Pam said.

“Let’s see how this plays out, Pam,” Eric replied. “We can always taunt later.”

“Can we hurry this along?” Sophie-Anne asked. “I’m getting cold feet.”

“Of course, my little pudding,” he told her. He took two steps towards the Magister then lifted the table so that he was facing the room. “This could be so much less painful if you just said the fucking words!”

“I am bound by duty to uphold the sacred laws of…”

The Magister was unable to finish his sentence as Russell swiftly placed the end of the cane on his heart. Another word, and he would be nothing more but a gross puddle of blood.

“Uh-uh-uh,” he smiled. “Your call.”

The Magister slowly raised his head, looked at both the King and the Queen, and, realizing there was no way out of this, gave up.

“I hereby pronounce you… husband and wife.”

Russell smiled before he removed the cane from the Magister’s chest. “Thank you.”

“Yes, thanks,” Sophie-Anne said with a fake smile. “I’m so happy I could bleed.”

“Congratulations, Your Majesties,” Eric told them.

“Yes, congrats,” Pam nodded with a smile Brooke had never seen from her.

Russell bowed before he stepped forwards, and as he got closer to her, Brooklynne got closer to Eric. They were about to leave when the Magister made the biggest and last mistake of his eternal life. He opened his mouth.

“You realize, of course, the authority will never recognize…”

“It’s own irrelevancy?” Russell cut him off again. “That’s where you and I differ, Magister. I truly believe they will, and soon. It’s time for you to outgrow your blind allegiance to the Authority and their rule of law. There is only one law! The law of nature. The survival of the fittest. And we need to take this world back from the humans and not placate them with billboards and PR campaigns while they destroy it! That is not authority. That is abdicating authority!”

“Your Majesty,” Eric stopped him, sensing Brooklynne’s fear rise up at the words of his new King. “Shall we?” he asked, stepping aside, freeing the access to the stairs.

Russell sighed. “We shall!”

He took one step, two steps, following his subjects and his new wife before, at the fourth step, he stopped, changing his mind.

“Actually, no,” he said, making his way back to the Magister. “Say hello to the true death.”

Eric quickly turned Brooklynne around and buried her face in his chest, putting both his hands behind her head to prevent her from seeing Russell cut the head of the Magister which went flying across the room and reached the floor in a splash that he unfortunately wasn’t able to shield his human from hearing.

***

The ringing in her ears wasn’t going away. A thousand questions were popping up in her head as she was sitting on the couch in Eric’s office. Russell and Sophie-Anne had disappeared, and the king had ordered Eric to wait for them at Fangtasia, assuring him he’d be back before sunrise. Pam and Eric had been arguing ever since and Brooklynne was listening in silence as some of her questions were being answered.

“When I was human, I witnessed the murder of my entire family. My father, my mother… my baby sister… I’ve been looking for the man responsible ever since. When I was in Mississippi, I found my father’s crown in Russell’s office. In his… collection,” he explained slowly, quietly, while Pam was staring at him in silence, wondering why she was only hearing about this now. “I knew the werewolves had something to do with him. I just didn’t know… it was a vampire.”

“Over a hundred years I’ve been with you Eric, and you’ve never said…”

“It wasn’t your burden to bear.”

“But you didn’t have to bear it alone…”

“Pam,” he cut her off. “I have to do this. And I have to do it alone.”

“And how are you planning on killing a vampire that’s twice your age?” she shouted.

“I don’t know… and he’s three times my age.”

“Russell’s three thousand years old?” Brooklynne finally spoke up.

Eric’s eyes fell on her as if he was suddenly reminded that she was there, as if her silence had rendered her invisible.

“Yes. He’s the most powerful vampire in this side of the world. Maybe in all of the world.”

“But how…”

Brooklynne didn’t have the time to ask her question as Russell suddenly appeared in the office, her new wife behind him. The door met the shelves in a bang and a box of Tru Blood almost fell off of it.

“I’m sorry,” the vampire chuckled as if something was amusing, “about the mess I’ve made in your basement, I’ll send someone to clean it all. We don’t want the Authority to suspect anything, after all, do we?” he said with a smile.

“We appreciate that, thank you,” Eric said with the fakest smile Brooklynne had ever seen.

“Now,” Russell said as he turned around towards Brooklynne. The telepath looked at him with big eyes, wishing she could just teleport out of there. “You never mentioned you had a human,” he continued as he looked up to Eric.

“Nobody’s perfect,” Eric chuckled awkwardly.

“Indeed. You look quite attached to your little toy. Tell me, you’re planning on making her one of us soon, aren’t you?”

“That’s the plan,” Eric nodded with another grin that creeped Brooke out.

“Splendid! It would be a waste to let this beautiful doll at the mercy of time and death, wouldn’t it, dear?” he asked his queen.

“Indeed it would,” she agreed, though not really because she did agree with him, but as to not contradict him. “We should leave now or we’ll meet the sun on our way home,” she said with a hidden grimace, as if she would rather meet the sun than follow him anywhere.

“You are right, pudding. Eric, you’re coming with us.”

There was a brief uncomfortable silence before Eric gave him another one of his fake smiles and nodded. “As you wish, Majesty.”

“Leave your little pet here, however. I have no time for humans.”

Russell gestured Sophie-Anne out of the office and Brooklynne stood up as Eric walked pass her. He stopped, took her face in his hands before he kissed her lips.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Stay with Pam. Don’t go home.”

“What? Why?”

“Don’t let her go home,” he ordered Pam who had no choice but to nod.

“Don’t die,” she ordered him in return.

He nodded too then looked back down at Brooklynne, stroke her cheeks with his thumbs before he kissed her again. She barely had time to kiss him back that he was already gone.

*********

Tags: @thepoet1975 @nerdysandwichqueen @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @raegan-hale @colie87 @heavenly1927

#true blood #eric northman #russell edgington #fanfiction #fanfic #oc #pam #eric x pam #eric x oc #eric northman x oc #imagine #reader #eric northman x reader

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fandomn00blr · 4 years

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OC Things

@curiousartemis tagged me in an OC Association thing...and I’ve been seriously neglecting my favorite original guy, Alarion, lately, for all my beloved NPCs, so I decided to do this for him! He is a former spy for the Agents of Fen’Harel, and is currently hiding out with Anders, whom he is completely smitten with, in the Deep Roads.

(please accept this vanilla Inquisition screenshot, the only visual depiction I have of him...he really has been neglected!)

1. ANIMALS: well, I tried to write him as a raccoon once...but he is also kinda fox- and maybe a little frog-like...?

2. COLORS: the warm earthy ones...

3. MONTH: late August/early September

4. SONGS: I’m about to reveal that I stopped listening to new music 100 years ago, but “Elastic Heart” by Sia, “Halo” by Beyonce, and “Hold On” by Wilson Phillips (yes...I’m dead serious...I am re-listening to it right now and it’s honestly the most Alarion thing I’ve ever heard and I’m mad it took me this long to realize it...modern!AU Alarion belts it in the shower every morning and he forces Anders to sing along with him whenever he gets mopey and Anders gets super into it at the chorus)

5. NUMBER: 5

6. DAY OR NIGHT: sunrise and sunset...

7. PLANTS: cattails, sunflowers, prairie grass

8. SMELLS: citrus, rain, rotting leaves

9. GEMSTONE: peridot

10. SEASON: fall

11. PLACES: forests, meadows, underground...root cellars!

12. FOODS: warm sourdough bread, apples, pumpkin seeds, lots of fermented things

13. ASTROLOGICAL SIGNS: Virgo

14. ELEMENTS: Earth

15. DRINKS: cider, mead, and other stuff he probably ferments himself...lol...

#dragon age #OC Alarion #he shows up in dread moon #and #in deep

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hows-it-holed-up · 4 years

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Perfunctory Photo Recap: Alias 1x01

After starting off with Gossip Girl and swinging wildly in the other direction for my second post, I decided a happy medium for No. 3 would be that early-aughts ABC classic, Alias. The show premiered basically immediately after 9/11, and I started watching it in 2002 with its mid-season premiere – meaning I missed the first half of the first season and didn’t get to watch it until it RE-AIRED over the summer of 2002. (How did we ever live without streaming apps? Unfathomable.) Anyway, I was obsessed with this show when it was on, and I suspect it’ll hold up pretty well, even though we’re the better part of 20 years out from the pilot. Let’s get our spy on!

My Disclaimer: None of these posts will be in any way comprehensive, because I’m lazy. All of them are probably going to have spoilers of some sort for the entire series…or at least what I remember of it from when I last watched it an eon ago. Exactly what you want in a recap!

The Prophecy: Our heroine Sydney Bristow thinks she works for the CIA, but learns pretty quickly (after they murder her fiancé) that she’s been a bit of a dummy! She actually works for the bad guys – an organization called SD-6. Will she just sit back and accept it? That would make for a pretty short series!

Fresh off his thrill-a-minute action masterpiece Felicity, J.J. Abrams stays brand consistent, opening his new series with some light waterboarding.

We cut almost immediately to Sydney in a college classroom (there we go, J.J.), where she’s scribbling furiously in a blue book and giving me anxiety-induced flashbacks. She meets up with her BF...

Who proposes to her on “the quad” while singing “Build Me Up Buttercup” at the top of his lungs. I remember finding this adorably romantic in high school. If someone inflicted this on me now I would literally walk away and never speak to them again.

Syd here seems to be contemplating the exact same thing. But she (somehow) gets over it and says yes.

Wow, there it is! “The CIA.” Honestly, Sydney really should have figured out this wasn’t legit almost immediately. No way the vibe at ANY CIA office is industrial chic. There’s barely a fluorescent light to be found!

LOOK AT BABY BRADLEY COOPER! (Yes, this screengrab was very strategic.)

He’s so crestfallen when she tells him she’s engaged to Doug or Dave or whatever his name is. Poor BB. Don’t worry Bradley! He’ll have shuffled this mortal coil by halfway through the episode.

Annnnd this is why:

Big no-no!

He freaks out and I guess runs off. When they meet up again it’s at some oil-pumping hoosit in Bakersfield or some such, and she gives him some cringeworthy line about having always hoped she’d find someone to give her life meaning and he’s the one etc. etc. GROAN.

Then she jets off on her latest mission, where the best part is she gets to use her real accent for about 10 seconds.

As a southern(ish) lady myself, I always get a little delight when I hear a good southern accent! Everyone seems to think they can do a flawless one, but it’s almost impossible to find someone who’s not from the region and can do it properly. The attempts are usually skin-crawlingly bad.

Anyway, after the mission, she returns home to a not-very-nice surprise.

J. Garn is VERY good in this scene.

After a wee confrontation with her boss about the small matter of murdering her fiancé, we cut back to the torture scene, where Sydney’s got some jokes!

LOLLL!!!!1! But to be fair they did shoot her full of a big ol’ syringe of something we’ll assume is affecting her frontal lobe, or whatever. You try being funny in the middle of a drug-enhanced torture session.

Anyway, we cut back to Dorian’s funeral, where we get eyes on Will’s (Bradley Cooper’s) sister, who happens to have fire-engine red hair and be dressed like a British goth-punk from the ‘70s. Super approps funereal attire. And also probably nothing to do with Syd’s lil future disguise – just a total coincidence.

Then over to this image of me, every night of this COVID-19 quarantine. Note the bottle within arm’s reach. By tomorrow I’ll probably be foregoing the glass altogether.

When we check back in with our girl, it’s been 3 months since she’s been into the office. Prob b/c of the whole “murdered her fiancé” thing but who can say really. Anyway folks aren’t super pleased!

Like really not super pleased.

There’s a whole fighting thing, and as Syd’s struggling to escape her dad dadus ex machinas on up:

He tells her the people she’s working for are actually the bad guys. And she’s like NUH UH! And he’s like “So then how come you’ve never been to Langley? Also come on have you seen the offices?”

Not really being able to argue with his logic but also not really trusting him, Syd runs off and steals Will’s sister’s identity (SHOCKING TWIST!). Because as all great spies know, you want to stand out as much as possible – so best practice is to dye your hair the brightest color you can manage and dress like it’s Halloween so that everyone will notice you.

Anywho, all of that somehow works, and we arrive at the part of the narrative where she gets captured and tortured. But because she’s the star of the show, it probably won’t come as too much of a surprise that she escapes! She runs off to find the thing she was supposed to find at the beginning of the show:

A highly coveted floating clown nose! (No but actually it’s much more sinister than that and is a big deal later in the series.)

She gives it to her boss so he knows she’s back onboard:

Then heads straight for CIA HQ, where she writes down her story for this handsome fellow and offers to be a double agent for them:

Sigh. I remember being very into these two as an IRL couple and finding out they broke up immediately before a French test. I also remember I did not do excellently on said French test. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact that I had no interest in studying. I would probably be fluent now if it weren’t for them.

Anyway, the CIA verifies her statement and sends an asset to let her know that she’s in:

Yes that’s what I just said.

It turns out that papa Bristow is ALSO a CIA double agent! What a good reveal to end on! Great job J.J.!

Debriefing:

- After spending 20 minutes searching for a free, not-illegal way to watch this sucker online (because I’m a cheap bitch), I finally gave in, swam around in my massive hope chest and literally dusted off this DVD, which it turns out I still own. Did I buy a DVD player just so I could watch my Alias, OC and Friends DVDs? Who can say!

- I didn’t realize they introduced the Rambaldi mythology in the first episode. It’s actually pretty impressive they could maintain that as a narrative thread throughout the show. Also we’ve got a “47″ alert at 12 minutes in.

- They have Jennifer Garner speaking a ton of languages throughout this show, as I recall. I wonder if she’s any good at any of them? She sounds vaguely convincing in the pilot, to me, but what do I know?

- I think we can all agree that Merrin Dungey is a national treasure and deserves to be a bigger star than she is. I’m always so happy to see her when she pops up in other things. And she’s great in this show.

- Overall, the Alias pilot holds up REALLY well. It does an amazing job of giving depth to all of the characters and really making the audience care about them – even the ones who only appear for a few minutes. The plotting is strong, and the groundwork for the rest of the series is laid without being even remotely heavy on eye-rolly exposition. Plus the actors’ performances are all *CHEF’S KISS*

#tv recap #spoilers #alias #pilot

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bravadoseries · 4 years

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All the evens for Audrey and all the odds for Margo!

thank you! this got super long so i’m putting it under a cut hehe

audrey:

2. why is your oc problematic?

audrey is problematic because she has no clue what she’s doing when it comes to anything and when it comes to being a hero, she relies almost entirely on trial and error.

4. what crossovers with other ocs have you talked about?

i have talked about crossovers with you for leila, @emiliachrstine with jacqueline, and @notaboutcat with grace barnes!!!

6. if your oc were to have superpowers, what would they be? if your oc has superpowers, what are they?

so audrey has super soldier strength as her primary superpower, and also there’s some other stuff that will be revealed during the thor: tdw arc

8. alright, be honest—whether or not they get the chance to prove it, is your oc worthy?

so i think that audrey does become worthy eventually during endgame, but i think that all the avengers are.

10. what’s your oc’s fight song? (e.g., immigrant song for thor, just a girl for carol)

girls just wanna have fun!!! i think is the biggest one. but i have actually picked out songs for the main fights in all of the movies audrey is in:

avengers battle of new york: “mama talking” by parov stelar

moscow fight against bucky: “bad guy” by billie eilish which i know wasn’t technically released yet but it’s okay

thor: tdw final fight: “big god” by florence and the machine

tws final fight: “seven nation army” by the white stripes

avengers: aou battle of sokovia: “glass & patron” by fka twigs

captain america: civil war airport scene: “bad blood” by taylor swift

angels of mercy final fight: “tomboy” by princess nokia

thor: ragnarok: “the future’s so bright, i gotta wear shades” by timbuk 3

avengers: iw: “yellow flicker beat” by lorde

avengers: endgame: “girls just wanna have some” by chrormatics and “lights up” by harry styles and “boys wanna be her” by peaches

12. what was your oc like in high school?

audrey didn’t officially go to high school because she was tutored privately until she started just going to college but she was generally bored with her tutors. when she went to high school in the 80s, she was jarred. even though she’d gotten several degrees by that point, she was like freaked out by being with other people and having to have a social life because in college she just didn’t talk to anybody. so she was nervous and quiet but she did have one good friend!

14. your oc meets thanos. what’s their first move?

omg audrey’s first move is to spit on him, i think, and then she just like attempts to tackle him and scratch his eyes out ngl

16. your oc gets married. which canon characters are in the wedding party?

yesss braudrey wedding time!! natasha is one of her bridesmaids, tony is the officiant, and both steve and darcy walk her down the aisle. steve and darcy have a young daughter by this point who is a flower girl with morgan, and they’re super cute. i could talk about the braudrey wedding for so long though i have so many little plans

18. what are your oc’s bad habits or vices?

audrey loves sweets, i think is one of her vices. she also tends to know she’s making bad choices but go through with them anyway.

20. your oc wears the gauntlet (without any detrimental effects on their health) and gets one snap to wish for anything they want. what do they ask for?

audrey asks to destroy the infinity stones, i think most likely. she doesn’t want that energy to be condensed into such a powerful form because that’s like a nightmare. i think it changes from film to film, but by the end, her final wish is for everyone to not be so powerful all the time

22. what does your oc’s bedroom look like?

audrey’s apartment is very minimalist, because it’s easy for her to get overwhelmed. before she moved into the tower, she was a workaholic because she would get so bored with her freetime that she always had case files everywhere. once she joins the avengers though and kind of like starts building a life for herself, she starts to settle into her place more and have details that reflect her life more—photos on the walls, little things that she collects from good memories, and a lot of books on the shelves! audrey likes big windows and keeps them open, but the space is mostly like white with dark blue accents.

24. which characters from other movies or shows is your oc a combination of?

excellent question! so audrey reminds me a lot of like the most chaotic combinations of mike schur main ships? she’s both chidi and eleanor, and both jake and amy. she’s anxious but also impulsive, awkward but also extremely loving, strong but also scared.

26. which canon character would they go to for advice? why?

audrey goes to different characters for advice about different things! with moral problems, she goes to steve. with fighting advice, she heads to natasha, obviously. with relationship advice, she heads to darcy. and later, post aou, audrey actually spends a lot of time with wanda and pietro becoming more politically active.

28. what’s your oc’s biggest flaw?

audrey is scared of everything! i think is her biggest flaw. it’s hard for her to overcome that fear.

30. what movies or shows is your oc featured in?

audrey is in agent carter, she has cameos in iron man 1+2, thor 1, captain marvel, and captain america: tfa. she’s a main in avengers, thor 2, tws, avengers: aou, captain america: civil war, thor 3, and avengers iw and endgame!

margo:

1. how did you pick your oc’s name?

margo is short for margaret! i think peggy is kind of an old-fashioned name (technically so is margo) but margo is cute and short too

3. besides their main ship, who else do you think they would work well with?

i think margo could have a relationship with magnus (thor and jane’s older son) but it probably wouldn’t be super healthy. also i think she and calliope could have had a cute relationship which coulson would have lost his mind about lol.

5. what’s a crossover with another oc that you’ve wanted to do, but haven’t officially discussed or planned?

i feel like it would be cool to talk about margo with @cassercole‘s queve family ! i think an audrey and q crossover would just slap in general because i think it would be angsty and cool and i can imagine q being like . i did not sign up to be a stepmother, but thanks, but then the two of them actually becoming friends eventually.

but anyway, i can imagine bonnie and tristan teasing margo and making them call her aunt and uncle but them all getting along well and hanging out at family reunions and getting into trouble . having a vision of the three of them stealing a blunt or something from tony’s jacket pocket at thanksgiving and then all of them being high and paranoid about getting caught by steve.

q catches them and margo is like please don’t be mad and please don’t tell my mom and q just rolls her eyes and closes the door to the room they’re all in after telling them dinner’s in 10 minutes, and she won’t tell but it’s up to them not to get caught.

7. rank their compatibility with the marvel teams: avengers, guardians of the galaxy, agents of shield, defenders, runaways

okay so: 1) avengers, because they’re her family. 2) gotg, because she thinks they’re all super weird and cool. 3) runaways, because i think she’s scrappy and has a similar sheltered background to them. 4) aos, just because found family time. 5) defenders. super brutal and she’s just like ummmm i am scared .

9. which other mcu characters would your oc really get along with?

i think gamora and margo would get along super well. also margo’s close with carol because she likes how she’s not too serious about herself as a hero. i think she’s also probably gets along well with wanda and pietro. she’s super close with her dad, also.

11. post a snippet of the next chapter of an oc’s fic!

okay to be honest i have not written any of margo’s fic yet so i will have to pass

13. what’s a secret about your oc that they would never admit? feel free to be as angsty or as silly as you’d like!

margo would never admit it but she has a slight schoolgirl crush on thor, who is one of the strength instructors slash english teachers at the academy.

15. if your oc has a costume/were to have a costume, what does it/would it look like? what colors? cape or no cape?

no cape, but sometimes she ties a towel around her neck and dances in her dorm room. margo’s costume would probably look a lot like helena bertinelli’s costume on arrow—very classic, infinity mask, etc.

17. after a battle, how does your oc recover?

she cries into her pillow for several hours and enters a period if intense self loathing and eats ice cream.

19. what were some other faceclaims you considered for your oc?

when audrey was shipped with pietro, margo was played by josefine frida petersen!

21. if your oc survived the snap, who do they miss the most?

in an au where audrey has margo before infinity war and the snap, margo would be devastated to grow up without her mother

23. what’s their love language? what’s the love language of the character they’re shipped with?

i think margo’s is words of affirmation, and leo’s is quality time!

25. which characters annoy your oc? why?

margo gets annoyed with her mom, a lot. audrey and bex are really close and so she feels left out of that relationship. i also think that margo doesn’t get along super well with pepper because she thinks pepper doesn’t like her. she doesn’t like peter quill that much, even though she likes the rest of the guardians. and she never meets loki, but i think she would absolutely hate him.

27. what’s your oc’s biggest strength?

i think her biggest strength is her big heart! she feels a lot and she’s kind of intense but she’s a very loving person.

29. team cap, team iron man, team i don’t care, or team please stop fighting?

team please stop fighting!! she’s like why is my life an episode of family feud . i know she doesn’t exist then but she looks back on it and brings it up sometimes and they’re both deeply embarrassed about it in hindsight and also like . okay BUT and she’s like okay nevermind!!!!

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crassussativum · 5 years

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Mass Effect Asks Masterlist- Cato

(Originally posted by thenerdcommander, credit where credit is due.)

1. What would their recruitment mission look like? ((Cato’s recruitment mission, if it even can be called such, would be after Menae. Primarch Fedorian has fallen. Cato finds Shepard on the Citadel after that mission and demands to come along with them. Shepard might be reluctant at first, but eventually allows it.))

2. Would they be a romance option? If so, who would the option be available to and what would their romance look like? Would there be any special scenes? ((Cato is a shy thing in the ways of romance and sex. And another species? That’s just too confusing for him).)

3. If there is one, what would their sex scene look like? How would the scene change if Shepard or Ryder turned the sex down? ((On the off chance, we’d get to see a naked turian that’s probably never had sex before and certainly never with a human lol it’d be awkward but sweet with a quick fade to black.))

4. If left unromanced, do they hook up with another character? If so, who is it? Is it a canon character or another OC? ((Nah, probably not.))

5. Would they be available as a fling option? What would that scene look like? ((Also probably not))

6. Is there any way Shepard or Ryder could get them to turn on them or betray them? How? Is there any way to get them to back down once the betrayal is triggered? ((Shepard would have to do something big and horrible for Cato to betray them. Like genocide big. And yes, not doing the right thing with the Shroud mission, but then how would Cato know that?))

7. What would their loyalty mission look like? (Cato’s loyalty mission would be simple. All he’d want is a day to pretend the galaxy might not actually be ending, a day to be normal. He’d want to go somewhere the Reapers haven’t touched yet and while that may be hard, he’d just need Shepard to pretend everything’s okay with him for just a little while.))

8. Is there any way to lose their loyalty after it’s earned? How? ((No, I don’t think so.))

9. What would their relationship with Renegade Shepard look like? Paragon Shepard? If they’re from Andromeda, what’s their relationship with Ryder (pick any two alignments)? ((I think Cato would greatly look up to a Paragon Shepard, the always doing what’s right would speak to him on a Spiritual level. Renegade Shepard would probably rub him the wrong way because sometimes doing what’s right in the moment in a way that’s not right is a grey concept he just doesn’t have the experience to grasp.))

10. What phrase(s) would they shout during combat? ((“Incoming!” “Outta the way!” for biotic attacks/charges. Otherwise I think he’d be verbally keeping count of enemy positions.))

11. Any squadmates they don’t particularly get along with? ((Honestly? I think it’s less that he wouldn’t get along with Jack but that she would scare the hell out of him. He’d find how powerful she is totally fascinating, and that her body is her own canvas would intrigue the artist in him. But she’s outwardly abrasive, crudely spoken, and volatile. Waaaay too intimidating for Cato. I think, were he to go along on her loyalty mission, he’d view her as something more of a kindred Spirit, but still be too skittish to make friends. ALSO since ME3. Javik. Javik would terrify him. He’s mean, he’s battle weary, he’s bleak and he finds no joy in the little things.))

12. Are there any instances where rivalries between them and another squadmate could potentially jeopardize their loyalty or views of Shepard or Ryder? ((Maybe? Like I can’t think of anything right now, but I’m sure there’s something. Cato mostly just follows along with the flow, but he’s moody so... it’s possible.))

13. Which squadmates are they likely to make friends with? ((Everyone but maybe Javik. Tali he’d adore. Garrus is a role model. Liara is asari and he loves their artwork and history so much. James I think he’d warm up to fast. Ashley/Kaiden are in the air but I don’t see why not.))

14. In which game would they be introduced to the franchise? ME1? ME2? ME3? Andromeda? ((In ME3))

15. Would they make multiple appearances throughout the games or are they limited to one installment? If they reappear, do they remain as a squadmate or do they become an NPC? ((He’s just a squadmate in ME3 but maybe we saw him as an NPC in ME1 or ME2. He’d have been on the Citadel a lot then.))

16. Which skills are available to them? If they’re from the OT, pick four active powers and one unique passive class power (ex: Turian Agent, Asari Commando, Turian Smuggler, etc). If they’re from Andromeda, pick three active powers and two passive (one of which should be a unique class power). ((So... this is hard. Cato’s an Adept, so his top four biotic moves are: Warp, Shockwave, Throw, and a Biotic Charge just for fun. Idk what passive class powers are, sorry.))

17. Write a quick exchange of banter between them and one other squadmate of your choice.

Cato: “I could use my biotics?”

Mordin: “Yes. Turian biotics, burn bright, burn hot, strong in bursts. Sufficient.”

Cato: “Or you could reach up there and pull it down. ‘Cause you can reach.”

Mordin: “….Small for a turian youth. Still growing? No, stunted. Lack of nutrition? Genetic mutation? Hmm Could take samples….”

Cato: “No samples! Spirits, I’m still growing, everyone says so….”

18. What weapons would they use? Pick 1 minimum, maximum of 2 firearms, 1 melee weapon, and/or 1 special or unique weapon. ((Cato’s got an M-3 Predator, a Phaeston, and an omniblade for close quarter emergencies.))

19. Name one thing that players would remember them most by (ex: Garrus’ calibrations, “Lola”, Mordin’s singing, etc). (Folks would remember that Cato’s the baby! He’s so young and idealistic, kind and caring. Like… he’s great as a squad member bc biotics and small arms fire, but… but he’s still a kid that wants to do kid things. Like go somewhere and eat nothing but junk food, or hit the movies or whatever. He would always need to be supervised bc he has no impulse control either.)

20. If they’re from the OT, what ways could they be killed on Virmire, during the Suicide Mission, or the events of ME3 (pick one)? If they’re from Andromeda, are there any ways they could die? If so, how and how could Ryder prevent it if prevention is possible at all? ((So ME3 and I think he could maybe die during the final battle on Earth, but only if Shepard didn’t do his loyalty mission which reminded Cato “normal” was what they’re fighting for.))

21. Can they be Indoctrinated or Exalted? If so, what would they be like? What options would Shepard or Ryder have to handle the situation? Would there have been options to prevent it? ((No, I don’t think so))

22. How would they react to other squadmates, Shepard, or Ryder being Indoctrinated or Exalted? ((Aghast confusion. Sadness, fear.))

23. When on the Tempest or Normandy, where do they like to stay? Do they roam around? What about on the Citadel or Nexus? ((Cato likes to hang around Garrus or the galley on the Normandy. Turian biotics are always hungry and Garrus is another turian that he can look up to. On the Citadel, he either loiters near the embassy in hopes of visiting with his grandpa -pre 3- or he’s down at the docks praying to see someone he knows. ))

24. Do they have an opinion on the way Shepard drives the Mako? Or how Ryder drives the Nomad? (At first, Shepard drives the Mako way too recklessly and fast…. but Cato is still a child in many ways and I think he’d gradually have fun with Shepard driving, if Shepard was willing to teach him how.))

25. Are they vocal about their opinions of the Council or Nexus Leadership? If so, what is their opinion? Do they make a passing comment to another squadmate or do they say it to Shepard or Ryder directly? (I’d say Cato is vocal about his opinions. His grandpa’s the Primach, he kinda has room to be, lol. And I’m sure he’d willingly talk about it if asked. He hates how the Cabal/biotic turians are ostracized, he doesn’t really understand why. He hates how barefaced and outer colony turians are looked down on. He’s sure that the Turian Councilor has turian people’s needs in mind but how can you see the scope of the big picture if you’re not looking at all the pieces that make it whole too?)

26. What decisions could Shepard or Ryder make that they greatly disapprove of? ((If Cato was aware-somehow- that Shepard put the fake cure in at the Shroud mission, he’d really disapprove of that.))

27. What decisions could Shepard or Ryder make that they greatly approve of? ((Doing that mission for the new Primarch and SAVING Tarquin. Fight me on this. My biotic Shepard could’ve saved him, damnit.))

28. Would they have any special scenes or dialogue in the Citadel DLC or for Movie Night? ((Maybe to Shepard in regards to their clone and is that like having a sibling? Cato always wanted a sibling. He probably drinks too much at the later party and ends up passed out in a cozy, secluded spot.))

29. Would they have any special scenes or dialogue in the final battle against the Reapers or the Archon? ((The final battle against the Reapers, he wouldn’t be able to just sit on his hands, he’d be on the ground driving whatever vehicle transported the survivors to safe locations.))

30. How would they react to meeting Shepard’s clone? Or Ryder’s twin? ((Much confusion. By that point, I like to think Cato would’ve intergated himself into Shepard’s day-to-day. And why doesn’t Shepard talk to him as warmly? Or joke with him the same? Clone? Oooohkay then.))

#ooc #cato #mass effect asks #masterlist #just for fun #long post

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silver-falling-star · 5 years

Note

for the first person OC asks: i started to go through and pick individual numbers and then realized i was picking basically all of them so fuck it, all of them for chris & shannon

Oh sweet jesus, okay ima just put this under a readmore b/c this is gonna get long.

1. What is your name?

Shannon: “Shannon Miller”

Chris: “Chris Mitchell”

2. Any nicknames?

Shannon: “Shay, and any petnames my girlfriend has for me.”

Chris: “Kind of hard to make a nickname out of a one syllable name.”

3. Gender stuff?

Shannon: “Cisgender woman.”

Chris: “I’m genderfluid and prefer they/them pronouns.”

4. Sexuality stuff?

Shannon: “My sexuality is girls.”

Chris: “I have more important things to do than date people. I’m ace.”

5. How old are you?

Shannon: “I’m 43, though I probably look older.”

Chris: “32 in 2012, 52 in 2032. I’m older than Shannon by 9 years.”

6. Any distinguishing traits?

Shannon: “My hair is always dyed some vibrant color, and my clothes outside of work are very flashy.”

Chris: “I try to look as basic and androgynous as possible. But I guess my hair is about as fiery as a Weasley. Now if I’m in my hero suit, I guess the fact that I look like some mutated freak is pretty distinguishing.”

7. How did you get your scars?

Shannon: “I’ve got some scars that have long since faded from dumb shit I did as a kid.”

Chris: “My nose is dented from when a kid threw a rock at my face when we were playing baseball with a rock and a stick. Though…. the big scar on my back comes from radiation and fire burns.”

8. Anything you’re ashamed of?

Shannon: “Id… rather not talk about that.”

Chris: “Plenty, starting with anyone who’s died as a result of my actions.”

9. Do you have any pets? Do you want any?

Shannon: “No pets, but both mine and Aliza’s schedules make having any pets difficult. Maybe when we retire.”

Chris: “I have two cats, Wellington and Fae. Wellington is a four year old tabby I found in the wheel well of a car, Fae is about a year old black cat I adopted from the shelter.”

10. How would you describe yourself?

Shannon: “Athletically chubby butch with great hair and an even greater fashion sense.”

Chris: “Androgynous ginger mechanic with no distinguishing features. Looks like if you mixed a jock and nerd together.”

11. How would your friends describe you?

Shannon: “Well to quote one of my friends: ‘That bitch who switched my nameplate and didn’t tell me until I got an email from the SAC about it.’“

Chris: “Hopefully something like ‘Determined and willing to help.’ I don’t want to put words in her mouth though.”

12. How would your enemies describe you?

Shannon: answered here

Chris: “I honestly couldn’t give two shits.”

13. What are the top three songs you can’t stop listening to right now?

Shannon: “Running in the 90′s is always a classic, Smash Mouth by All Star is good meme material, and Honeybee by Steam Powered Giraffe because I’m a sap for a good love song.”

Chris: “Can’t Stop Me Now by Queen, Sweet Caroline by Niel Diamond, and Dancing Queen by ABBA. I have a thing for the older music.”

14. Do you have an aesthetic and how would you describe it?

Shannon: “The 90′s personified, because I love how bright it all is. Contrasts with the black suits I wear to work everyday.”

Chris: “Practical, durable, and unnoticeable.”

15. How do you normally dress?

Shannon: “At work I wear black tailored suits, usually with some colorful tie. Off duty I wear bright windbreakers, baggy jeans, and anything that really screams lesbian honestly. Oh and you can’t forget the heelies.”

Chris: “Blank t-shirt, cargo pants with plenty of pockets, and converse. When I’m working in the shop it gets covered with a heavy duty set of coveralls.”

16. How do you normally wear your hair?

Shannon: “Pixie cut with the sides shaved close, usually dyed some bright color.”

Chris: “Just touching the base of my neck and swept back. If I’m working in the shop, I have it pulled up into a short ponytail. When doing hero work my hair is shoulder length and unkempt. I’ve tried brushing it out, trust me, never stays.”

17. Who is closest to you?

Shannon: “Aliza, my girlfriend.”

Chris: “Winnie. I trust her with my life.”

18. Who have you lost?

Shannon: “I’d rather not talk about that.”

Chris: “More people than I’d have preferred to lose before I’m 70.”

19. How do you feel about your family?

Shannon: “It’s complicated. They raised me and cared for me and empowered me to pursue my dreams, and I’ll always be grateful for that. But when you’re from a small town in a rural area, they aren’t the most accepting of the whole sexuality thing. They’ve gotten better, but I can tell they’d honestly wish I would settle down with a man. Sucks for them though, I’m perfectly happy where I am. My brother is the one exception who’s accepted me from day one, and I’m grateful to him for that.”

Chris: “They’ve been nothing but supportive of me and my interests. I was worried when I came out that they’d reject me, but instead they warmed up to me changing my name and my fluctuating pronouns. My parents have worried about me of course, I am their oldest kid after all who doesn’t exactly fit the mold of what my hometown might call normal. They also basically adopted Winnie as their fifth kid after meeting her once, they’re a loving kind of people. My siblings are great. We get on each others nerves sometimes and definitely have had our rough spots, but in the end we’re there for each other. Even if my little brother is a little shit. I can only hope they’ll take the truth of my superpowers and being a superhero as well as they have everything else.”

20. How do you feel about your culture?

Shannon: “What culture, I’m from hicksville USA, we got farmland, coal mines, and racism. I guess our music is nice but everything else feels like it doesn’t even really exist.”

Chris: “I’m from an area with a bunch of mountain people. Our culture involves hunting, illegal shine stills, meth labs, and pot farms. Don’t go into the wrong side of the hollar or you might not come out, all that. Though the sense of community there is pretty strong, even if its very much a ‘you grew up here so you’re one of us’ way. I can take parts of it and leave others.”

21. Is there anything either would dislike about you?

Shannon: “Yes to both and its mostly that I’m gay and dating another woman.”

Chris: “I should hope my family doesn’t dislike me. As for my uh, ‘culture’, my gender identity for sure. I’ve had the odd look here and there growing up. And some classmates not quite sure what to make of me.”

22. Any regrets?

Shannon: “Loads, but I try not to let them control me. What happened in the past is in the past.”

Chris: “More than I care to admit and I get more every day.”

23. Any vices?

Shannon: answered here

Chris: “My video games I guess. I dunno’ I don’t think I have that many. Bad habits sure, vices eh, take it or leave it.”

24. Any phobias?

Shannon: answered here

Chris: “My old boss figuring out I know what he did, random facilities conveniently in the middle of nowhere, the government locking my ass up as a test subject, I could go on.”

25. Any triggers?

Shannon: “Explosions, not a big fan of fireworks because of it.”

Chris: “Explosions, gunshots, head trauma, my anxiety can be a trigger sometimes if I’m stressed out enough honestly.”

26. Any hobbies?

Shannon: “Skateboarding, fishing, camping, going to the gym, things that keep me active honestly.”

Chris: “Engineering new tech, video games, I stream on twitch from time to time. I still also enjoy reading comics and building complicated lego sets.”

27. Is there someone or something you would die for?

Shannon: “Aliza, justice, my team, if I have to go down so a criminal can be apprehended, then so be it.”

Chris: “My family, Winnie, saving the people who need saving.”

28. Are you an optimist or a pessimist?

Shannon: “I try to be an optimist, otherwise I’d end up being very bitter on the job.”

Chris: “I’m in the middle, and it entirely depends on the situation.”

29. Are you an introvert or an extrovert?

Shannon: “Introverted-Extrovert. I enjoy people but I need my alone time.”

Chris: “Introvert. I’m fine with small groups but I don’t like large crowds. Though, I have to put on an extroverted front as Equinox. Equinox is more of a people person.”

30. Are you brains or brawn?

Shannon: “More brawn than brains but I’m not stupid.”

Chris: “Why not both?”

31. Are you passive or aggressive?

Shannon: “More aggressive than passive in a work setting. At home I’m passive.”

Chris: “More aggressive.”

32. What are you best at?

Shannon: “I am very talented at finding good campsites.”

Chris: “Creating new technology. I am an engineer by education.”

33. What are you worst at?

Shannon: already answered

Chris: “I’m pretty shit at shooting a gun larger than a pistol.”

34. What is something you want to be good at but are really bad at?

Shannon: “Skating, just so I can prove to Aliza that I can indeed master any form of wheel based sport.”

Chris: “Managing my anger.”

35. What’s your place in your world or the world you’ve entered?

Shannon: “I’m a special agent at the National Agency of Superpowered Persons, or NASP. I help manage the superhero team that protects Detroit.”

Chris: “I’m a mechanic by trade and one of the world’s first superheroes when the occasion calls for it. Recently picked up the hobby of unwillingly being flung through alternate dimensions trying to find our way home. Hopefully we end up doing what the main character in Quantum Leap couldn’t do and get home.”

36. What’s your place in your peer group?

Shannon: “A fellow agent and occasionally boss. Friend group is different but you said peer group not friend group so eh.”

Chris: “I honestly don’t know. My peer group is limited to my friend Winnie and two bank robbers I’m still trying to get a handle on.”

37. How do you feel about your story?

Shannon: “Well aside from the trauma, I feel okay about it. Could do with superheroes who don’t break the law on a regular basis but you take what you can get. Not that all of them do that.”

Chris: “I just hope I can get some fucking rest soon. All this stress is going to make me go grey before I’m ready for that. Or it could kill me, who knows at this point.”

38. How do you feel about your author?

Shannon: “They suffer from executive dysfunction and more of the story exists in their head than on paper. But thats fine.”

Chris: “I have two and I only vaguely know what one of them has planned for me.”

39. Do you know your ending? How do you feel about that?

Shannon: “Yes and I’m not looking forward to it.”

Chris: “Yes and no. I know what one of them would LIKE to make my ending, but who knows if that will end up being what happens in the prime universe.”

40. Any AU’s you wish you lived instead?

Shannon: “I do quite like the idea of being a bartender with the other three fed characters in the biker AU. That’s got lots of fun antics going on in it.”

Chris: “The everyone lives AU is significantly less painful and more meme-filled.”

#WHERE THE FUCK DID THE READMORE GO #ugh jesus alright you know what whatever #tungle dot hell be broken #Chris Mitchell #shannon miller #heroes campaign #edit: fixed the readmore I THINK

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a-mad-scientist-approaches · 5 years

Text

The Cipher Conspiracy (14)

Oh my God! It’s done!

This story has been in my head for over a year, and now I can finally bring it to a close. I’ve had this planned out since before I even started writing, and it’s such an incredible feeling to finally have it on (virtual) paper and concluded. I can’t believe how fun it’s been, guys.

As always, I am overjoyed to write @hntrgurl13‘s and @missinspi‘s respective OCs Adeline Marks and Madeline McGucket, and @scipunk63‘s Addiford ship. You guys... just... <3

I am so freaking proud of this. Enjoy.

AO3

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Chapter 14: Finale

??? ∆

Ford? Ford?

He was underwater; everything was blurred. Smeared like a water painting.

Come on buddy, wake up. We gotta move.

He could feel something crunchy. Somethings crunchy. Crackling in his ear, along his cheek. Everything was swaying, rhythmically back and forth. Underwater smelled earthy… strange.

Okay, hold on Ford, just hold on.

Brown and dried leaves fell away from him. Brown and dried leaves fell away from him.

A sound stopped making noise. The silence deadened everything even more so. Some kind of blast. Distant. Contained explosions. They had stopped.

Muffled swearing.

He let the depths claim him again.

∆

“-Meanwhile, we go to an update on the situation in Manhattan.

“Power still has not been fully restored to the isle, in what has now been confirmed as a planned attack on American soil. At precisely seven o’clock last night, Manhattan began experiencing massive power failures until the entire city was completely dark. As many have speculated, these blackouts were indeed caused by several electromagnetic pulses, weapons designed to fry the circuits of any and every electronic device within their extensive range, planted in strategic areas for maximum damage. We are now receiving reports from multiple sources which outline Oracle Division, a covert government agency created to investigate and terminate anarchist extremist plots to sow chaos into the world, as the perpetrator for this crime. It seems that what was once Oracle Division’s duty to investigate has now become their duty to instigate. Up next: feel like there’s no one you can trust? No need to worry, because it seems like the end of the world is approaching anyway-”

A Road Somewhere? (USA, Probably) ∆

There was a loud, uncomfortable rumbling under Ford’s left ear. He opened his eyes and found himself staring at the back of a driver’s side red leather seat – the interior of the Stanleymobile. He was lying on his side, cheek stuck to the surface of the back seat.

His heartrate skyrocketed.

“Ford, you back with me?” Came Stan’s voice.

“Yes!” He scrambled to push himself up. Stan was in the driver’s seat. Obviously. No one else was in the car.

More memories hit him.

“Turn arou-”

“Ford, shut it,” Stan’s voice was tight. “You think I’d be taking us away if we could go back? We’re lucky we got out-”

“Fiddleford and Addi-”

“It’s thanks to her we even are out! If she hadn’t been off drawing as much attention as she possibly could, we’d be in the same boat as her right now! So shut up, sit back, and be grateful, while I make sure that what they did is actually worth something!”

A bolt of anger fired through him. Like hell he would.

“Pull over,” he demanded.

“No,”

“What happened to Fiddleford?”

“What do you think?”

Menace entered his voice. “Pull. Over,”

“Do you actually think you can change anything at this point? They’re long gone by this time, Ford, and there’s nothing you or any other pretentiously-named agency full of ineffective, useless people can do for them, so we are going-”

“You’re just going to give up? After everything that’s happened, you decide-”

“-back to Sacramento to get Carla, and we are getting safe-”

“-that this is where you draw the line of all places-”

“-because crap has well and truly hit the fan and I am not letting-”

“-when Bill Cipher is a bigger threat than ever and he probably has Addi and Fiddleford right n-”

“JHESELBRAUM CAN HANDLE IT FROM HERE!”

“PULL THE DAMN CAR OVER!”

The brakes screeched, rubber burned, and Ford almost shot over the front seat as the car skidded to a halt.

∆

"Breaking news; a statement outlining the reason behind the closure and police perimeter recently established around the FBI field office in Roseville has just been issued by a federal spokesperson. The head of the office, Special Agent-in-Charge Ned Guy, has been killed, and agents have reason to believe that the assassin is still in the area – perhaps even inside the office itself. Further information pending, but the question remains: who sent this person, and who is their next target? Whoever it is, our thoughts – mostly along the lines of ‘I hope to God it isn’t me’ – are with them,”

The Side of a Road Somewhere (USA) ∆

Ford was out of the car practically before it had stopped moving, and Stan tore off of his seatbelt to meet him.

“What is wrong with you?! We have to help them!”

“Haven’t you been listening? We can’t! We have no idea where they are, and even if we did know, there were at least thirty agents in that forest! How many of us are there, Ford? Two! We have a better chance of being invited into their homes for coffee and evil plans than we have of taking them on and winning!”

“We have Oracle Division, Stanley, and the FBI, and we will use them because I am telling you right now that we are not running and hiding from this!”

“So we act like idiots and end up like Addi and Fiddleford, who for all we know are already-”

The silence roared as Stan cut himself off, not daring to finish that sentence, and Ford fought to keep breathing evenly.

Finally, Stan looked him dead in the eye and said lowly, “Get in the car,” which brought a whole new wave of rage over Ford.

“What world are you living in that I ever would?” He snapped. “Our friends are suffering at this very moment because of my mistakes, because of things I allowed to happen!”

“Ford-”

“And not only that, but the world is in imminent danger from that madman, and you still won’t even consider trying to save anyone but yourself-”

He thought Stan was going to hit him.

“Of course I tried to save them! What the hell is wrong with you that you think I didn’t?! Fiddleford was right there with me, and I would’ve gotten him out, I would’ve, but we got separated and – and suddenly everything was going to shit and Addi was being swamped-”

“And you just left her?!”

“-I thought you were dead!”

The thudding in Ford’s head quieted down and all the panic for his friends that was clawing its way up his throat in preparation to be screamed at Stan caught, his voice refusing to give it power.

Stan looked about a second away from ripping his hair out, and he was staring desperately at Ford in mixed rage and pain and despair.

“I thought you were dead, Ford! Not in trouble this time, not hurt – dead. I heard gunshots, and when I ran towards them I found you, and you were lying on the ground and you weren’t moving and I thought you were dead! Do you have any idea what that’s like?” His voice cracked.

A low-lit room, bitingly cold despite the pleasantness of the bar next door, two bodies bleeding out on the ground, one of which could so easily have been Stan. Yes, Ford knew what that was like.

“So I’m sorry that I couldn’t do enough, and I’m sorry that we can’t do anything right now, but if you think I’m ever gonna let something like that happen again, then you really are entirely as much of an idiot as you act like when you’re scared,”

With that, Stan slumped against the driver-side door, exhausted. Ford felt hollowed-out, everything inside that had been propelling him gone for the moment. On jellied legs he made his way over and leant next to Stan, tentatively pressing his shoulder against his soon after.

Stan was right. He needed to get a grip. Spoiling for a fight – with Stan, Cipher, anyone – was the worst possible thing to do at present.

So what was something they could do?

His mind was blank. Judging from Stan’s equal motionlessness, he didn’t really know how to proceed either; Ford could guess, based on what his brother had just said, that until he’d dug in his own heels Stan had been (and, most probably, still subconsciously was) operating on the single priority of get who you can safe with practically no other considerations until that goal was fulfilled.

The problem was, Ford wasn’t letting him complete that goal, and even though the reality check Stan had given him had been effective, his own mind didn’t seem to be able to supply a solution either.

∆

“We have previously reported that Oracle Division, notorious rogue government agency behind the Manhattan Blackout, is also more than likely involved in many other plots to sow discord and chaos among the nation, and, perhaps, the world at large. Since that time, we have received many accusations of spreading false information through speculation, contributing to mass panic, and we apologise. Here is the following correction: Oracle Division, notorious rogue government agency behind the Manhattan Blackout, is most definitely behind Ned Guy’s assassination among many other disturbing events. The idea that sources can concur on any one thing is a myth, so why even bother to mention ours. We apologise, again, for the former inaccuracy,”

I-I Don’t... Know ∆

He’d gone. The- the man with the… weapon. Yes. It looked like a gun, it fi-fired like a gun, ergo, it was definitely a weapon, if not one he recognised. But the man had gone, up an elevator, and he’d taken it with him and now he and the woman were left alone in the dark.

She was staring at him, speechless, horrified, and grief-stricken. She was crying, and he didn’t know why, only that he wanted to help her. Had she been there this whole time? It was hard to recall... it was hard to think…

It was like he should be hurting – he felt like he should be so, so hurt, but it was like his head was full of fog instead, and it was hard to do anything. The thing that hurt most was his eyes… which was definitely odd because he didn’t think he’d stared into that blinding white light from the weapon all that many times. A few, yeah, but surely not enough to make his eyeballs feel like they’d been scoured with a wire brush...

He wished she’d stop crying. That wasn’t going to help anyone, and he should know.

Should he know?

... yes, he thought so. He was pretty sure it was useless by this point.

How did he know that?

He felt floaty, which was not something he was used to feeling, but he wasn’t going to complain because it was a lot better than what he’d expected.

He’d expected?

Yeah, expected. He was too tired to think further about how he’d known to expect something. His brain felt exhausted. Imagine if the next round of… (was he being tortured?)… imagine if it involved sums. A bubble of laughter made its way past his lips. Now that would be torture.

Anyway, he felt floaty. Which was strange, because… because… he couldn’t stand… and he couldn’t stop shaking either. He was hanging and trembling from his wrists and his mind felt wrung out and the woman was saying something about the man going up for a phone call and they needed to get away, and she just looked even more scared when he asked what a phone call was. She explained. He snorted. That sounded like something out of science fiction if he’d ever heard it. Useful, but obviously fake. In fact, the only thing he could really feel was…

… anger. At that red book on the table. Because whenever the weapon fired, the book was consulted and it knew everything about him… didn’t it? It certainly didn’t know about – about – about… he couldn’t remember… and he was terrified more than ever for some reason because he couldn’t remember the boy’s name, or what he looked like, or –

He couldn’t remember.

Sacramento, California (USA) ∆

“Wexler, the deal was you’d tell us what we needed to-”

“Was that I would reveal the agents I know of if, and only if, Cipher is taken down,”

Carla gritted her teeth.

“Until such time as that happens, I’m afraid I will be keeping my mouth – wisely – shut. Furthermore, I believe you have yet to follow through on your promise to place me in the Witness Protection Program.” Wexler regarded her with a very much unbeaten expression and she berated herself for forgetting that he had accepted the deal to save his own skin, meaning that he remained quite firmly on the side of the Cipher Wheel until that no longer became an option.

“Well, plans change, as you and your buddies have seen fit to demonstrate. We need to know where Cipher is. And what those names are, thank you very much,”

He smiled indulgently at her and kept silent.

“It’s only a matter of time before Cipher is dead or behind bars! The FBI is aware of the threat. We have in place layers and layers of resistance to meet him. He cannot win!” She protested, but she’d lost him and she knew it. He’d goaded her into begging, or close enough. Even though it hadn’t been completely successful, the assassination attempt had proved that Cipher’s reach was only growing, and had flipped her and Wexler’s positions: he had the upper hand now. Every line of his body oozed confidence.

“And yet you’re now coming to me, desperate for help. Where did that fierce drive to win go, agent? Don’t tell me. It disappeared, along with all your friends,”

“You’re afraid of Cipher,” she snapped. Wexler shrugged. That was news to no one. “We can keep you safe, you know we can. You wouldn’t have agreed to the first deal if you didn’t think so. We will still do that, but things have changed and you need to tell us what you know sooner rather than later,”

“In fact, McCorkle, I don’t know that you can deliver on all your promises of safety. An assassin is still after you, are they not? More than likely they have already made their way into the building, based on the amount of time that has elapsed since the first killing. So no, thus far, you have spectacularly failed to build any kind of rapport with me or earn any sort of confidence in you. Why should I not just keep my silence, wait for the Cipher Wheel to win, and you to die?”

“DAMMIT!” Carla shouted, striding into the room she had designated as her temporary, windowless, singularly-entranced cell of an office. Jheselbraum didn’t even look up from the news report she was watching as the door slammed closed.

“I take it he’s refusing to cooperate in any manner now?”

Vicious, if muttered, swearing and agitated pacing answered her.

“Has there been any word on El Dorado?” Carla reached the wall, spun on her heel, and strode back the way she’d come.

“The forest is still crawling with Cipher Wheel agents. I’ve heard nothing about Stanley or Stanford, or Agents Marks and McGucket, but we can assume that someone, perhaps even all of them, managed to escape the ambush. The forest would not be so active unless that was the case,”

Another pivot. “But at least one of them’s also been captured,” she stated flatly.

“The vehicles that have left the forest do indicate that,” Jheselbraum confirmed, a pillar of stillness in direct contrast to Carla’s flurry of movement. “As yet, none of my agents have been able to follow them without risking exposure,”

“And with Wexler refusing to talk, we have no other way of finding out where they might be going. Which is wherever Cipher is.” Carla stopped, braced her palms on the table in the centre of the room, and leant heavily on them, trying to work out the tension in her back before all the coiled muscle there snapped something important.

The next time she saw Stanley, and she would be seeing him again, if only to kill him herself, she was never letting him out of her sight again. A bit of a counter-productive sentiment, but rationality had had a foot halfway out the door since the day began.

And at some point she had to deal with the assassin, who was most certainly getting closer with every minute that passed. The building was on high alert, but regardless, she doubted Cipher would have sent anyone after her who couldn’t deal with that.

She had absolutely no idea where to go from here. Other than to pick up some Witness Protection Program forms, she supposed.

A phone rang in the silence. She felt the vibration through the table and looked up to see Jheselbraum reach for the device and stiffen, staring at the screen with the closest expression to dread Carla had ever seen on the woman’s face. She turned her gaze to the screen as well.

The caller image showed a single terrifying yellow eye.

The Road Again (USA) ∆

Eventually they’d just sunk to the ground, drained.

It wasn’t that Stan wanted to admit that things looked pretty bleak... it’s just that they did anyway.

The silence between them was interrupted sharply by his phone ringing. He felt Ford jolt next to him.

Honestly, the turn the day – the past half hour – had taken meant that if it had been anyone other than Carla calling, Stan wasn’t sure he would’ve picked up. As it was, he turned on the speaker so Ford could hear as well, figuring that just because he wasn’t in the mood to plan a desperate and useless counterstrike against Cipher was no reason to keep that opportunity from his brother.

He hit the answer button.

“STAN?!”

Ford jumped again, and Stan flinched too. Had he accidentally turned the thing up to full volume again?

“Oh my GOD, you’re okay, you’re okay- you are, aren’t you? Aren’t you? Oh, hell, are you hurt? How bad is it? Listen to me closely: if you see a light, and it’s not the sun, do not-”

“No, no I’m fine!” Stan assured her hurriedly. “Ford’s here too, we’re both fine,”

“We’re unhurt, Carla,” Ford supplied, and from the look on his face Stan couldn’t help but think that he was not confirming the situation to Carla but more correcting Stan’s choice of words. Stan was inclined to agree with it.

“Jesus, that’s good to hear.” A pause. “Addi and Fiddleford?”

Stan’s stomach dropped out and Ford was silent.

“No,” he managed to get out. “No. They’re not,”

A sigh washed over the speakers. “I was hoping he was lying..."

“Hoping who was lying?” Ford said sharply.

The brief quiet on the other end of the line was very telling. So much so that Stan pretty much already knew what she was going to say before she’d gathered herself enough to say it.

“Jheselbraum and I just got a phone call from Bill Cipher,”

“Let me guess, it wasn’t to surrender himself and his network,” Stan said, dragging a hand down his face. Ford was rapidly losing what colour he’d regained as he too worked out what Carla was about to say.

“No, it... definitely was not. He wanted us to get a message to you.” She paused again, working out how best to phrase it, and Stan really wished she would just spit it out.

After a second, she gave up and did just that.

“He says Addi and Fiddleford are still alive, and if you guys show yourselves quick enough, they might even remain that way.” She let that sink in.

Hearing it out loud when you’re expecting it should really be easier than this, Stan considered with an air of detachment.

“He didn’t say anything else?” Demanded Ford.

“Other than a few taunts and name-calling? No,”

“So how are we supposed to hand ourselves over if he didn’t tell us where he is?” Stan exclaimed.

“I know. It’s a shame, but he really isn’t an idiot. He knew I’d be listening in to that call. He wasn’t going to reveal anything that might lead the FBI to him before he’s ready to fully take us on,”

“What about you, Poindexter?” Stan said urgently, turning to Ford. “You have any idea where he might be?”

“Cipher didn’t just use one place as headquarters,” Ford said, a deep furrow between his eyebrows. “He moved around fairly often. I know of a few places he’d frequent, yes, but there’s no guarantee he’s at any of them right now, and we don’t have time to check them all before he loses his patience with Addi and Fiddleford. Which is another thing! We don’t even know if they’re in the same place he is!”

“Yes we do,” Carla said unexpectedly, neatly stopping Ford dead in his increasingly hopeless rant.

“We do?” Stan looked at Ford.

“Yes. This whole situation with me got Addi and I thinking: he’s made it clear – even more so with that phone call – that he wants to kill or capture you two himself.”

“What situation with you?” Stan said warily.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said quickly, and he definitely didn’t believe that at all, but she was on a roll and they needed to know this, so he let it go for now. “The point is, you’ve been too much of a pain for him not to hold a grudge. Same situation with Oracle Division,”

“So they’ll be in the same place,” Stan nodded his understanding, and then frowned. “But that still doesn’t help us a whole lot. It just means we only have one raid to do instead of two, in a location we still don’t kn-” Stan stopped. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d just seen Ford stiffen. Looking at him again, there was the tell-tale gleam of understanding in his eye: he’d just worked something out.

“Ford?”

“I know where he is.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “I don’t why I thought it was possible he’d be anywhere else,”

“Alright, tell me where. We can alert Tactical and take him out before knows what hit him,”

Ford opened his mouth, and shut it again.

“No,” he said.

“No?!” Stan repeated incredulously. “Do you want Addi and Fiddleford back or not, Ford?”

Ford’s gaze was flinty and his words were cold enough to chill the Sahara.

“If Bill didn’t think he could kill Addi and Fiddleford before a strike team managed to kill him, he would not have gotten that message to us through you, Carla,”

“Ford, I know you’re worried about them, and I understand that their safety is paramount, but tactical teams know what they’re doing. They are trained for situations li-”

“Their safety is paramount, which is precisely why I’m not going to endanger them even more by telling you where Cipher is,”

“Oh, jeez-” The situation was rapidly flying off Stan’s well-used map of moves-that-could-be-considered-even-remotely-sane.

“So you’re just going to blindly hand yourselves over?” Carla said witheringly, as if she could stop Ford through brute force of will alone. Unfortunately, when Ford got like this there wasn’t really anything anyone could do short of getting into a fistfight with him, and Stan knew from personal experience that that would only harden his resolve.

“Of course not. We’re going to take him down ourselves. Or-” Ford faltered for the first time. “Or I will, anyway,”

He looked up at Stan defiantly, and Stan half wanted to get into that fistfight just to see if it was possible to knock some sense into the guy this time. The other half of him though, was indignant. He’d followed Ford across the world to make sure he wasn’t in trouble. He’d punched more people than he could count for him, and that wasn’t even from this recent jaunt. He’d willingly been flown by someone who didn’t know how to fly, almost been shot, actually been shot (and now his shoulder was hurting again, great), been drugged and dumped, chased and left behind, ambushed, momentarily convinced his brother was dead, and Ford still hadn’t been able to shake him.

Honestly, the most unbelievable thing about this situation was that Ford thought Stan wouldn’t come with him on this.

He groaned. “Weren’t you listening earlier? You don’t think I’m gonna let you do this alone, do you?”

Ford’s face broke into a relieved grin which told Stan that despite how it had sounded, he wasn’t taking this course of action lightly in the least.

There was silence on the other end of the line. Stan could practically feel Carla’s mind whirring.

“As soon as it’s safe to, you need to tell me where you are,” she reluctantly compromised.

“We will,” nodded Ford. Good. At least he wasn’t being idiotically stubborn.

“And Stan?” Her words were clipped and short, but the next ones had the hint of jaunty casualness to them, nevermind if it was a bit forced, just like they always did when they said goodbye. And because it wasn’t the last time they would, Stan thought fiercely, there wasn’t any need for it to be different this time. She might not be able to stop Ford through sheer willpower, but he knew she’d be damned if she let that mean she couldn’t stop anything else that way.

“See ya later,” she said.

“Can’t leave ya hanging, can I?”

There was a brief whiff of sound that might have been a huff of laughter, and the call disconnected.

“Please tell me you have a plan,” he said as soon as it did.

“I don’t,” said Ford immediately.

Stan stared at him. “Well, at least you ripped that band-aid off quickly,”

Sacramento, California (USA) ∆

Busy. Keep busy. That was the thing. If she kept busy, she wouldn’t have time to think about… whatever she had just condemned Stan and Ford to. She aggressively ripped the Witness Protection forms out of the printer.

Just get this to Wexler and mush his face into it until he agrees to sign it. She sighed. Well, no. She wouldn’t do that. Although maybe she could get away with staring at him unnervingly until he did.

Abruptly, she pulled back from the corner she was about to turn. Window. Large window.

Stay away, you don’t want a bullet in your brain. Way to go, Carla.

She turned back, striding down an alternate, less populous, route. It took her deeper into the building.

Get to interrogation, get to interrogation. Not far now.

And someone knocked the breath out of her.

The Road, California (USA) ∆

“He’s not going to let them go, Ford.” Stan said flatly. “We can’t just turn ourselves in and hope for the best. Guy’s convinced he’s on the verge of plunging the world into chaos-” He paused, rethinking that statement. “Guy is on the verge of plunging the world into chaos. No way is he going to stick to any deals we make with him. We need to be smart about this.”

Ford paced up and down the dusty roadside, nodding in agreement. “We should also expect that he’ll expect us to try something, and he’ll be accordingly prepared. The question is, does he know that we expect he’ll expect us to do something, and therefore expect our expectant strike at a whole new level of-”

“You’re making this too complicated,” Stan interrupted, passing rapidly through stages of grim agreement, horrified fascination, and irritated dismissal. “Stop thinking about might-bes and doing that get-in-his head routine - this isn’t some Sherkey Homes adventure,”

Ford looked faintly disappointed.

“What we know is that when we get there, he’s going to take our guns off us-”

“Actually, mine’s back in the forest somewhere. We only have yours now,”

Stan’s stomach dropped. “I don’t have mine either,” he admitted.

Ford’s eyebrows shot up and he warily asked, “What happened?”

Stan told him. Ford slapped a hand over his eyes.

“It’s still in the car somewhere!” Stan said defensively. “There’ll be plenty of time to find it on the drive there,”

“But you actually lost-”

“Shut up,”

“You shut up,”

∆

Her body had shut down with that blow. She couldn’t breathe. Her stomach muscles were seizing up. Before she collapsed to her knees, the assassin caught her by her collar and plunged a knife towards her throat.

She caught his wrist and wrenched it down and around, felt something give and his hand sprang open, the knife clattering to the floor. He hissed through his teeth, instinctively loosening his grip on her collar. Her legs took her weight. Her elbow took his senses.

He stumbled back, reeling from the strike to his jaw. She’d bought herself some time. Fighting back the surges of adrenaline that had her shaking and her brain screaming at her to sprint away as fast as she could, Carla focused, and her lungs seemed to expand again, filling with air, combating the pain and panic.

The assassin recovered at the same time she did. He struck first. She dodged, stepped in close, fired a punch into his side and stepped away again, springing lightly on the balls of her feet. He was driven back sharply, but that seemed to be all. Not a flicker of discomfort registered on his face as he reappraised her. Her mouth quirked in response. You didn’t have Stanley Pines as your sparring partner for long without picking up a thing or two.

Keep it simple, keep it simple.

∆

“Alright, alright, keeping it simple.” Ford considered. Having no weapons was a substantial drawback. “We get the memory gun off Bill and use it on him,”

Stan frowned. “Good plan – except there’s no way he going to let us get that close without a fight. And do we really want to fight him while he has that thing and Addi and Fiddleford?”

Before Ford could irritably point out that at the rate he was shooting down their ideas nothing was going to work, Stan straightened.

“Wait, yeah, that’s good. We should just fight him,”

“You just pointed out why that would be a bad idea,” Ford said, annoyed that the one time Stan was changing his mind about a bad idea was when the bad idea was his own.

∆

Not good.

One of the assassin’s legs hooked behind hers and tripped her up. His hand closed around her throat. Her back hit the door of the observation room. Her head slammed forward from the recoil and something metallic snapped. The door sprang open, and they were falling.

∆

“I can keep a gun from shooting me and whoever else is around,” Stan said confidently. He had just spent a couple weeks proving it, after all. “Look, Cipher’s probably not going to be paying much attention to me – you’re the one he wants vengeance and ruination and a spike up the butt and whatnot for-” Ford winced slightly – “meanwhile, what did I do? Just tagged along and punched him in the face that one time. So, you just keep his attention and when he least expects it, I’ll grab the gun from him.”

“If he doesn’t really care about you then why would he demand you show up as well?” Ford objected. “We can’t count on that working. And even if that wasn’t the case, you grab the gun from him and then what? You don’t know how to work it, Stan,”

“So I’ll smash it instead,”

“But then there’s still the problem of Bill – and before you say anything else, remember that he’ll probably have more weapons than just the memory gun on him,”

Stan closed his open mouth. That was a good point.

“So I should do it instead,” Ford stated.

That wasn’t.

“No,” said Stan instantly.

“I know how to work the memory gun. You distract him, I can take it from him, use it on him, and problem solved,” Ford insisted.

Blinking away images of his brother lying motionless, Stan rallied and said, “One: I’m the better fighter,”

Ford frowned and opened his mouth to argue, probably on principle, and Stan quickly amended his statement to, “I mean, you literally cut a probe out of your head and stitched it up a few hours ago. It’d be weird if you were still alright,”

Ford allowed him to continue, moderately appeased.

“Two: how am I going to distract him? If he is interested in me, we don’t know why, and even then you’re the one who’s been working for him for years: no matter what, you’ll be able to distract him better,”

“I refuse to believe that you wouldn’t be able to figure something out,” Ford said firmly. “Stan, it has to be you. The best and quickest way we have of neutralising Bill is if we use the memory gun on him, and since I’m the only one who knows how to do that safely-”

“Safely?” Stan picked up.

Ford waved a hand vaguely. “It’s a very delicate device. If it gets even slightly damaged, the consequences of using it could be-” he hesitated – “not good. Very, extremely not good.”

Stan practically radiated a demand for a better explanation.

“Well, for a start, it could explode, and since when I constructed it I dismissed trying to extract memories in their rather abstract pure form…”

“Right, that does sound hard,” Stan acknowledged.

“I designed it to simply rewrite matter instead, and while I intended the matter to only be neural pathways, it could conceivably be anything,”

Stan stared.

“In my defence, it was just meant to be a prototype,” Ford said in embarrassment.

Stan took a deep breath. “And you thought that was easier than just trying to grab memories?”

“I did,” confirmed Ford. “But the point is, it gets damaged, bad things happen. Most likely in a… silicaceous manner,”

“Bad things,” Stan said hollowly. “Yeah,”

∆

The assassin was at her back, an arm wrapped around her throat, crushing her windpipe. She’d managed to get a hand under his elbow before the lock was fully on and her muscles were screaming as she strained to break it. Her vision was going fuzzy at the edges. She sucked in a sliver of air. She… she had legs.

She hooked an ankle behind his and threw all her weight backwards. He tried to shift his stance to compensate but his foot was trapped by hers and he overbalanced, falling, and she felt the jolt as they collided with something. It was just enough of a distraction to rip herself free of the hold, spin, drive a fist into the side of his face and stumble backwards, coughing violently as the air simultaneously stung her throat and cleared her mind. No time for recovery. She made herself push off the desk she was clutching and ran forward and flung herself at him and took him off his feet and hurtled into the two-way mirror behind him.

∆

“I’m telling you, this is the best chance we have of defeating Bill-”

“And I’m telling you, you’re not a match for him right now! Sure, it could work, but there’s too high a chance that you and the others would get hurt. My way will be less dangerous for everyone,”

“Besides you, you mean,”

“Yes!” Stan said vehemently.

Ford gritted his teeth. They had been running in circles with this plan for far too long, and with every minute that passed he was itching more and more to just get underway already, the temptation to try and figure everything out in the car growing stronger and stronger as the thought of Addi and Fiddleford pressed increasingly insistently at him.

Stan was glaring at him, and had by now joined him in some irregular pacing. He was also occasionally clenching and unclenching his hands to let some agitation out. Clearly, he was also feeling the pressure.

He sighed, and Stan echoed it a moment later.

“Look Ford, there’s no way this is going to end perfectly,” Stan said. “We just have to go with the best option available,”

“And that’s the problem,” said Ford ruefully.

“Because you think using the memory gun on him will end it quicker, with the added bonus that it’s a poetic way to go out and will be pretty cathartic for you,” Stan said with a humourless smile.

“And you just want to do to him what you do to everyone who hurts the people you love,” Ford countered, equally pointedly. “Make sure he can’t do it again by hitting him like a ton of bricks,”

∆

A startled yell rang in Carla’s ears, almost missed in the cacophony created by the shock of the landing and the crash of the glass all around as they’d gone through the window.

She untucked herself from a protective ball, giving no acknowledgements whatsoever to the pains in her neck, back, shoulder, side. They were barely registering anyway. Her head was ringing. She scrambled up off the floor of the starkly-lit interrogation room, the assassin doing the same on its other side, jagged reflective fragments spread across the floor between them. Breathing hard, she got herself into a boxer’s stance, glancing at her hand when she had trouble closing it into a fist. Huh. It had a piece of glass sticking out of it.

The assassin had picked up another, larger shard. He held it firmly in his hand.

Oh joy, Carla thought numbly. A weapon. She decided then and there never to tackle someone through a window again.

The assassin didn’t make to move towards her. His attention had been caught by the third person in the room, handcuffed to the table and looking fairly shocked at what was going on. A person who could be very damaging to the Cipher Wheel, should he decide to cooperate.

The assassin switched targets and lunged towards Wexler instead. He leapt out of his chair and attempt to skirt around the table, but the cuffs anchoring him to the middle restricted his movements. The assassin recovered from the momentum of his first swing and jumped onto the interrogation table. Wexler paled, unable to move out of range. The assassin drew back his makeshift blade and Carla tackled him. They crashed to the floor, Carla saved from feeling most of the impact due to the combined effects of shock, adrenaline, and the relatively cushioned landing provided by the assassin.

His head had cracked against the floor. The fragment had gone deeper into her hand. The room was wavering slightly, but she didn’t think that was actually happening. She’d probably hit her head at some point. That didn’t sound right. The assassin had probably hit her head at some point. Jerk.

He groaned below her, trying to get up again. Carla drew back her good hand dealt him a swift uppercut. He slumped back, and didn’t move again.

“What the hell…” breathed Wexler behind her.

Ah, right.

Carla staggered to her feet and pushed her sweaty hair out of her face. She took a deep breath to try and get her – her everything under control, and delved deeply into her pocket. Wexler watched with wide eyes.

Out of it she drew a very crumpled and slightly torn sheaf of papers. She laid it down in front of Wexler, brushed some glass off, smoothed it out, left some bloodstains behind, and straightened up again.

“Please sign this form to apply for the Witness Protection Program,” she said professionally.

Wexler stared, slack-jawed.

“Unless you still think the FBI can’t deliver on its promises to protect you,” she added.

Wexler’s eyes flicked to the motionless assassin behind her, and back again.

“No, I’ll sign,” he said quickly.

∆

No bright ideas suddenly sprang into Ford’s mind to break the stalemate they found themselves in. No desperate last-minute solutions. Nothing.

Eventually, Stan sighed, and looked away.

Then he cocked his head slightly. Ford looked back at him. He was staring at their reflection in the Stanleymobile’s windows. There was nothing out of sorts to see there, as far as Ford was concerned.

“Y’know,” said Stan slowly. “I’m really glad I got that haircut,”

∆

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are just receiving word that the crisis at the FBI field office has ended, and the assassin has been apprehended with no further fatalities. We go now to Roberta Lopez, spokesperson from the FBI, and – oh, her, uh, colleague?”

“Thank you, yes. While the assassin has indeed been arrested and secured in a holding cell, the current situation is far from over, and before we go any further, we must inform you that Oracle Division is not the agency behind the Manhattan Blackout and Ned Guy’s assassination as the news has been reporting. Thanks for that, by the way. Rather, they have been framed by an organisation known as the Cipher Wheel, which the FBI has been investigating for several months now. At this very moment, we are concentrating our best efforts on bringing down these terrorists before they can cause any more harm. In collaboration with Oracle Division, who Mr Colleague here is a representative of, we fully expect to be able to handle this threat. Take it away, Neil,”

“BOOM! How d’you like them facts?!”

“Thank you, Neil. We will now take questions,”

∆

“Well, at least he’s cooperating now,” Jheselbraum said, arms folded as she peered over Carla’s shoulder at the folder containing Wexler’s new identity.

“For the most part,” Carla muttered, scratching at the bandage over her wrist. She was covered in glass cuts and more, but had only deemed the actual stab wound serious enough to address at the moment.

“Cipher is a sticking point. He insists on the guy being dead before he spills the beans, which on the bright side means we’re back to the original deal, but unfortunately also means that the only lead we have in figuring out where Stan and Ford have gone won’t talk until such time as it doesn’t matter anymore,” By which she meant “until Stan called her to tell her where they were because they’d managed to kill Cipher” and not “because Cipher had effectively destroyed all systems of world order thereby making Wexler’s sharing of information redundant.”

Jheselbraum’s speculative voice broke through her dark thoughts.

“Actually, I have been wondering about whether he is our only lead,”

Carla looked up at her with wide eyes.

“Has Oracle Division tracked down Addi and Fiddleford?” she asked eagerly.

Jheselbraum’s mouth quirked. “Not Oracle Division. And I’m not even certain she can help us. But if anyone has the ability to, it’s her.” She straightened decisively. “I’ll get back to you soon. In the meantime, perhaps you should deliver that folder to Agent Wexler, and savour the look on his face,”

Indeed she did, when she handed his new identity over a minute later. It was the least he owed her for the past few months.

“Alright Mr Toot-Toot McBumbersnazzle, it’s time to meet your new life as a travelling banjo minstrel,”

Gravity Falls, Oregon (Soon-to-be-Divided States of America) ∆

A proximity sensor buzzed, signalling the approach of Pines, which was good news to Bill, who was getting impatient, and especially good news to Blondie and Fiddlesticks, whose heads he had been about to riddle with bullets.

“And right in the nick of time, boys,” he said, grinning as he lifted the gun off the man’s forehead. All sorts of shouts and protests finished their ringing echoes around the basement, leaving a breathless stillness in their wake that left him free to speak without competition. As the prisoners sagged, he continued, “Congratulations you two, you get to live another few minutes,”

They didn’t reply. Fiddsy he wasn’t even sure could at this point.

Spinning on his heel, Bill turned to the monitors.

He’d brought the brother. Good.

Stanford and Stanley were trudging across the grounds towards the cabin, their movements slow and deliberate. A smart choice, as Bill was more than capable of killing them where they stood thanks to Stanford’s enthusiasm and/or paranoia in his design of this place’s defences. It really was a shame that he’d sided against Bill.

They reached the front door, hands raised in surrender. As per Bill’s orders, the agents in the house above them let them through.

“Hey, you guys wanna play a game?” Bill suggested suddenly. McGucket made no response. He just hung there, his legs no longer able to support him. What a drip. Marks though, she raised her head and fixed him with a gaze that was definitely more lost than it had been a couple hours ago.

“Let’s try and figure out what their play is.” He peered theatrically at the next monitor, putting the gun on the desk before placing his palms flat against it too, pushing his face close to the screen. The upstairs agents were searching the brothers for weapons, going over every inch of them so that not so much as a pen knife would be brought down to the basement.

“Hmmm. Hope your pals here weren’t going to try taking me by surprise.” Twisting the screen around so that she could see, he asked, “What do you think?”

Marks’ eyes flicked over to it momentarily, but she seemed reluctant to look away from him – how flattering.

Then she did a double-take, and her eyes locked back onto the screen. She looked like she was concentrating. She was even leaning forward a little, trying to see it closer, an expression like there was a word she couldn’t think of right on the tip of her tongue, but remaining stubbornly out of reach.

Bill narrowed his eyes and stepped over to the edge of the desk, where he’d laid the memory gun on top of the Journal as a bookmark. He flipped backwards a few pages until he found what he was looking for.

“Ohh, right, you gave Fordsy your own little stop-and-frisk session back in China, didn’t you?” he teased.

Her eyes flew back to him, a sudden clarity in them. Hmm. Obviously his new toy wasn’t as refined as he’d thought.

“Funny,” Bill said, tilting his head. “I thought we already covered China…” He shrugged. “Must have missed this bit.”

A brief spin of the dial and a click of the trigger and a flash of light later, and those memories were once again gone. Marks flinched back, gasping, shaking her head and blinking the stars out of her eyes. When she looked back at the search of Stanford that the agents were finishing up, there was no recognition of the situation.

“Damn thing.” He shook the memory gun a little. “What about you, your head’s not fixing itself is it?” He shot at McGucket before he replaced the device. He didn’t expect a response, but he got one anyway.

“Well, it ain’t like Ah’d tell you’f I was!” And then he cackled – yep, cackled – briefly. Huh, looked like he was finally losing it. Well, it made things livelier anyway.

Out of curiosity, Bill tried erasing the ocean from his head. There was a brief pause, but McGucket continued cackling soon after. Marks looked sick.

“Finally, one of you’s seeing the humour in the situation. I don’t mind saying, you’ve been a pair of Debbie Downers lately.” Bill rolled his eyes and replaced the gun on top of the Journal, then resumed his position in front of the monitors. McGucket’s laughs died down soon after.

Pines and Pines 2.0 were being led through the house now. Returning to his musings on their possible plans, Bill said, “Credit where it’s due, at least they’re not attacking those agents. That would just be embarrassing for everyone,” If either of them so much as twitched aggressively towards an agent, the others, both visible and hidden from view, would bear down on the Pines like the wrath of, well, Bill.

No incidents occurred. Last week, Bill would have been inclined to put that down to Stanford’s forethought. Now… Bill was more informed.

He watched them walk compliantly through the rooms. Another thought struck him.

“Do a perimeter sweep,” he ordered through the mike. “We don’t want Oracle Division pulling any fast ones,” The command was acknowledged, and the monitors showed an increase in activity around and within the property moments later.

He doubted Stanford would have told the FBI where he was, not with Marks and McGucket so easily within his reach, and so far his and his brother’s cautious actions were confirming that. But Bill knew Jheselbraum. If there was anything that witch was good at, it was coming out of nowhere with devastatingly unexpected strikes.

The Wheel reported that all was quiet, however. It seemed that not even she had managed to find her way here.

On the central screen, one of the agents opened the bookcase revealing the stairs down to the basement’s first level. The other two escorted Stanley and Stanford through with a warning hand on their shoulders. They moved carefully.

At the elevator the lead agent typed in the access code, the buttons on the grainy image lighting up. Turning his gaze to a smaller monitor off to the side, Bill wondered if the elevator would be where they attempted something. It was the most strategic place for it.

Stanley and Stanford wordlessly entered the small area. The three guards visibly tensed in the tighter space, clearly also expecting an attack. Bill heard the elevator begin its trundle downwards, the sound propagating through the space and filling the once again silent area. Marks wasn’t even attempting to make escape plans with McGucket anymore. The lack of whispers in the background while he was apparently distracted was new. It was probably the certainty of death that was hanging in the air. Earlier, they probably hadn’t fully realised that he was going to kill them. And doing it in front of Stanford? Just a bonus.

The elevator reached the third level of the basement and its doors opened, revealing Pines, Disappointing Pines, and Guards One, Two, and Three, who had not been subdued, injured, or knocked unconscious. They pushed their charges out roughly.

Bill moved sedately over to the end of the bench, the motion alerting Stanley and Stanford to his presence. Their eyes alighted on him immediately. He settled comfortably against the edge, with the memory gun and Journal to his left, and the regular gun to his right, both easily within reach. He grinned at them.

“Just dump their weapons over there, you two,” he directed the agents.

“They didn’t bring any, sir,” reported one of them.

Bill raised an eyebrow at the Pines’. “Not very hopeful, were you?” he quipped. When they didn’t respond he continued, “Alright then, go back to your stations. Keep watch, be on guard, all that jazz. If you hear any screaming, that’ll be them. Don’t worry about it,” With a cheery wave, he dismissed them, and they turned and walked swiftly back to the elevator.

Once it started its rattling journey upwards, Bill examined his new prisoners. Stanley and Stanford returned his gaze with identical apprehensive expressions. And jeez, speaking of identical… they really did look similar. The monitor screens hadn’t done it justice. Stanford of course had blood and dirt all over his shirt, and Stanley wasn’t wearing glasses, but other than that… sheesh.

“I’m glad you brought your brother, Fordsy,” Bill started conversationally. “I would not have been happy otherwise,”

“You’re happy now?” said Stanford disbelievingly.

“No,” Bill admitted. “But this is nothing to what I would have been like,” The viciousness in his words was tempered by the palpable trepidation in the room.

“Well, you know,” said Stanley, far more flippantly than the tension in his body suggested he was capable of, “wherever we go, we go together,”

Bill gave an overexaggerated wince. “Ooh, might wanna rethink that line, buddy,”

Another difference between the two was that Stanley’s focus was solely on Bill, whereas Stanford had noticed McGucket and Marks manacled to the wall on Bill’s left.

“I assume I don’t need to do introductions?” he said lightly. Marks was looking all pathetic and desperate as she looked back at the frozen Stanford, which made Bill glad he hadn’t gotten around to burning out the latter bits of the Journal from her mind. No recognition would have been so much less entertaining, although Pines’ reaction to that would’ve been a sight to behold. Upsides to everything, Bill considered.

Stanley finally appeared to notice the other occupants of the room, and the expression that crossed his face was such a mixed bag of intensity that Bill actually laughed, whereupon it just became one of hate. Stanford had never been so open and easy to read. He liked this new guy.

“Addi? Fiddleford?” He asked in that rough voice of his. “You two-” He shut himself up before asking if they were okay.

“And look at that, you’re smart, too,” Bill praised. “No, Stanny, Miss Adeline and Mr Fiddleford are definitely not… well, how about you tell them yourselves, guys?” He gestured for them to go ahead and speak.

Marks glared, jaw clenched tightly shut. McGucket, however, was the more noticeably silent of the two. Not only did he not speak, but he didn’t move either. He hadn’t, in all the time that Stanley and Stanford had entered the basement. All eyes were drawn to him.

“Fiddleford?” said Stanford cautiously. No response.

“You wanna tell them or should I?” Bill cheerfully asked Marks.

She swallowed.

“He- he doesn’t know that’s his name,” she said softly.

Bill nodded emphatically. “Yep-amundo! Oh, don’t look so shocked, I had to do something while I waited for you guys, didn’t I?”

McGucket stirred. On shaky legs, he pushed himself to stand on his own a little more. “S’my name?” he murmured to Marks.

“Y-yeah. Fiddleford,” she replied unsteadily.

Well now the guy seemed a little more focused and clear-headed, and that wouldn’t do at all.

He slammed his left hand down on the Journal, and Stanley and Stanford would have had to be blind not to notice McGucket and Marks flinch as he came close to grabbing the memory gun again. Instead, he picked up the Journal.

McGucket’s eyes burned as they fixated on it. Bill’s grin broadened, and he flourished it at Stanford, who’s jaw was tightly clenched.

“Look familiar? It sure does to these two, I’ll tell you that. And it’s just chock full of all sorts of information! Families, histories, interests, missions… and I’m sure they both wanted all of it to end up in an easily accessible diary like it did, to be used against them at their earliest convenience!” Bill gave a mock salute. “We’re ever so grateful, Stanford,”

“Ford, he would’ve just found other things to use against us, or another way to get the information-” Marks started, valiantly trying to preserve the idiot’s feelings – and sure, she may have been right, Bill would have gotten the information anyway, but where was the fun in admitting that?

It was McGucket who interrupted her before Bill could, however.

“Didja write that?” The man was shaking, and not from the spot of torture. His hands were clenched tight, fingers biting into his palms. “All that- in that there book?”

Bill looked at Stanford, whose face was stonily shut down, unresponsive.

Like a switch had been flipped, McGucket chuckled suddenly. There wasn’t the slightest hint of mirth behind it, but he still shook with laughter.

“An’ Ah only had two months before retirement!”

Bill rolled his eyes. “I swear I already wiped Oracle Division…” he muttered. He picked up the memory gun again and shrugged amiably at Stanley and Stanford. “The things that slip your mind, am I right?”

He spun the dial with practiced ease and loosed the bright stream directly into McGucket’s face. The Pines’ started forward.

“AH, AH, AH, BOYS!” Bill held up the memory gun. “Stay where you are,” he warned vehemently. They did, standing further apart than before. “Good. No need to forget what the order of things is here, now is there?”

McGucket hadn’t reacted all that much to the burst from the memory gun. Bill would have wondered if it had even worked if he hadn’t stopped laughing so quickly.

“Alright, enough messing around,” he decided, leaning back against the bench once more and replacing the memory gun in its position atop the Journal, although he kept his hand on it. Pines and Disappointing Pines looked just about ready to charge, and while it would entertain him no end to have yet another excuse to hurt Blondie and Fiddsy because of them, he did want to get around to dealing out some pain for the Brothers Dim, too. That would only be delayed if he had to go and restrain them.

“You have us. Are you going to let Adeline and Fiddleford go?” Stanford said, his gaze flicking momentarily to the memory gun.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just waste my time with that question,” Bill said flatly.

“Then why are they still alive?”

In the peripheral of his vision, he saw Stanley take a step closer to him. So that was their play. One of them distracts him, the other gets the memory gun off him. Not great, and not going to work, and he would have thought that Stanford would be the one trying to wrest the thing away, but he’d play along for now. It’d make the finale all the more fun.

“Oh, because of this and that. Just never got ‘round to it, I suppose.” He turned to face more fully towards Stanford, like a thought had just occurred to him, and Stanley took the bait, edging closer.

“I gotta say, I am surprised you’ve managed to stay alive up ‘til now. I s’pose you’ve got your bro to thank for that, haha. Seems like a shame though, to let all that hard and unrewarding work just… disappear,” He punctuated the word by tapping his left fingers playfully on the memory gun. Stanley came closer still. Honestly, he hadn’t even crossed half the distance! He could definitely do with some pointers on strategy.

Quite happy to keep talking, Bill continued, “Y’know, what the heck!” He spread his hands wide and then dropped then back down, noticing that yes, Stanley had taken advantage of that chance too.

“Since you left, Stanford, I have to admit, there has been a bit of a vacuum left in your wake, and I don’t want to fill it with just anyone, you know what I’m saying? It really does need a Pines touch,”

Stanford stiffened.

Bill tilted his head innocently.

Stanford said, “No way in-”

“I’m sorry, WAS I TALKING TO YOU?” Bill thundered, and then he stuck out his right hand and grabbed the gun that didn’t fire white light and shot Stanford in the chest.

∆

“A’course Ah know where he is, y’think I was gonna let my husband go off in a state’f emergency without havin’ me as backup? I put a tracker under his tie this mornin’. He’s in some town in Oregon,”

“Thank you so much for your help, Madeline,”

“Why don’t you know where is? Jheselbraum? Why are you out of contact with him? Something hasn’t happened, has it?”

Silence.

“Madeline, we’ll need you to transfer us your tracking frequency as soon as possible,”

Silence again.

“Ah’m bringin’ it to ya myself. See you in twenty,”

∆

The blast hadn’t finished echoing around the basement before Bill was turning to Stanley.

“So whaddaya say, sport? Finally ready to join the fold? I gotta admit, I was sceptical at first, but y’know what, Sixer’s convinced me! He’s been singing you praises since months before you even showed up, isn’t that right Fordsy?”

On the ground behind him came a spluttering, gasping, pained noise. Stanley’s face was sheet white, his whole body frozen as if every joint was suddenly locked. Bill tossed the gun to his other hand and picked up the memory gun. So many guns! So many targets! Not the guy in front of him, though. At least, not if he made the right choice.

“All through that tour around the world, after every single mission, it was ‘Stanley this!’, ‘Stanley that!’ and I’ll admit, I didn’t wanna see it! I thought IQ over there was the golden boy!” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Stanley’s eyes finally moved to follow its trajectory – hah, tragic-tory, more like.

“Wasn’t meant to be, unfortunately. Good thing you showed up! And I reckon you’re much more suited to this kind of life. After all, you didn’t go making friends with enemy agents first chance you got, you know how to focus on what’s important, and you know how to think on your feet and do whatever it takes to get what you want. And I bet you, kid, know what the smart option is now, don’t you?”

Stanley staggered a little. His eyes looked distinctly wet.

“I get it, you need a moment to think. Gotta weigh up those choices. Sure, on the one hand, I shot your brother. But on the other, I could just as easily shoot you. I’ll give you…” He deliberated for a moment. “… until I next get bored to make your decision, how’s that?”

He spun around to chat to his other prisoners. Marks’ expression was delightful, it was like he’d shot her instead, with that open-mouthed, shocked look, and eyes slowly filling with tears as she processed what happened. And even though McGucket wasn’t really up to date on what was going on, he didn’t appear any less affected. What a guy! Bill had been telling him practically since he’d arrived that the guy who wrote the Journal was the reason for all his torture, and he still only looked horrified. He was also the only other person in the room who hadn’t just stopped, rock-like. Even now he was examining everything that was happening, and fixing Bill with a pretty impressive evil eye.

Stanford’s groans of agony meanwhile were growing less and less, as were his laboured breaths. Bill didn’t even spare him a glance.

Feeling the constant background thrum of anger in him spike again, he was about to turn around and demand an answer of Pines when Marks drew a quick, shuddering breath and attracted his attention.

“Got something to say, lovely?”

She was stuck for words for a moment, but quickly found something to say.

“How- how could you do that?”

Pity it was so unoriginal.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Blondie, but I’m a little short on all those ‘heroic qualities’ you value so highly,”

“Ya- ya didn’t haveta kill him,” said McGucket, not letting the tremors in his bones stop him it seemed.

“Didn’t I, now?”

“He could’ve still been useful, fer yer – yer whatchamacall it… robotical and weaponisifyin’ office! Where all the mad folk go to unleash their minds upon the world!” He cackled again for a moment.

“You mean the R and D department?” Marks asked him.

“That too,” agreed McGucket.

Bill arched an eyebrow. “Thanks for the suggestion, but he was being far more annoying than useful by the end. And besides! Too late now,”

There was a flicker on both their faces. Wow, shooting Stanford had really rattled them, hadn’t it? They hadn’t been this in sync with each other for hours. It was almost like they had a common goal again.

Bill frowned. “You guys aren’t trying to distract me, are you?”

He whipped around just as Stanley finished crossing the distance and slammed his boot into Bill’s wrist. The memory gun went flying.

It hit the floor, threw up sparks, skidded, and whirled around and around until McGucket brought his foot down and stomped on it with a viciously triumphant expression. The shimmern bulb audibly cracked, and electricity fizzled up and down its length before dying out.

It was broken, that was for sure.

And Bill had no other copies.

And of the two men who could build another, one was all but dead, and the other was rapidly heading towards insanity.

Was Bill angry? No. Was he incandescent? Closer. Most importantly, he was still holding one gun.

“YOU IDIOT!” He roared, and brought it up and struck Pines across the face with it. He went down hard, and Bill wasted no time lashing a kick into his side that knocked him away and onto his back. Bill advanced again as Stanley, coughing, went to scramble up.

Pines made it to his feet and threw a punch. Bill dodged it easily and sent his boot into the side of Pines’ knee, which dropped him again with an agonised yell. Must’ve already been injured. He kicked it again, snarling. Pines screamed.

Stanley was kneeling now. Good. Bill brought the gun around but couldn’t resist hitting him again with it. It struck his temple in the same place as the first time, colliding with his skull in a satisfying crunch, sending him sprawling. Bill brought the gun back again, finger on the trigger, so ready for the sight of some blood and brains, but Pines caught the barrel and pointed it away from his face. Bill fired anyway. The bullet shot into the ground by Pines’ ear, concrete scattering, the bang deafening. The heat from the explosion scalded Pines, who yelled out again and shifted his grip off the hot barrel and over Bill’s own hands, still keeping the weapon away from himself. Bill pressed down with all his weight. Almost immediately, he began to win. Well, it was good to know that the esteemed skills and strength of Stanley Pines were so easily overcome. He must have hit him in the head harder than he’d thought.

Pines was flat against the floor now, almost all of Bill’s weight bearing down on the gun in the grip between them, forcing it slowly back towards Stanley’s face. Bill pulled the trigger again. It blasted into the concrete, barely a millimetre between that hole and the first. He pulled the trigger again. Stanley’s head jerked away from the third hole, neatly in line with the others, but he didn’t let up. Again. A fourth hole appeared, and this time the bullet skimmed his ear, the blood dripping into the cracks on the floor. Bill grinned right into Pines’ strained and desperate face. He sighted along the barrel of the gun. Pines’ left eye widened underneath it.

“Hey wise guy. Thought you wanted me dead,”

No. There was no way.

Bill looked back so fast his neck cracked.

He was on his feet. How was he on his feet?

There was a trail of blood marking where he’d crawled from his prone position. He had one hand pressed tightly just below his ribcage. He looked like any second could bring him down, but the grim set of his face gave some inkling as to how none had yet. And he was aiming the memory gun, the broken, sparking memory gun that Stanford Pines would not fire in a million years, directly at Bill.

He forgot about the man under him and bounded up, one hand extended out in a wild grab-

“STANLEY-”

-and nothing.

∆

The blinding flash faded from her eyes and Addi blinked desperately to clear them.

“What…”

She kind of wanted to scream, kind of wanted to cry, kind of wanted to curl up and pretend like nothing was real, but she didn’t. She didn’t, because the futile hand Cipher had outstretched was immobile, that expression of frenzied desperation permanently locked onto his face. The colour had been leeched out of him.

He’d been turned entirely to stone.

His back still to her, Ford’s arm shakily dropped and the memory gun clattered to the floor once more. He groaned and his knees sagged, and he would probably have fallen flat on his face if Stan hadn’t suddenly been there, grabbing him and offering what support he could.

“Stan? Oh God, how- how do you feel?” Stan was saying… as… he lowered… Ford to the ground…

His voice sounded very different.

“Worse’n I look. Urggh, no, actually scratch that…”

And he sounded different too.

No. Nononono. Wait.

Cipher had yelled out Stan’s name right before…

“You switched?” she burst out, cursing herself for not seeing it sooner. Ford had six fingers, for crying out loud! And they were similar, yes, but not identical…

Neither twin responded, which she supposed was fair enough. F-Stan squeezed his eyes shut as Ford put pressure on the wound. There was a lot of blood, but evidently it wasn’t in an imminently fatal position – although the amount of time that elapsed before Stan got proper medical attention would still be a deciding factor. She’d seen Stan doing his best to plug it, but frankly she was amazed he hadn’t passed out yet.

Ford cursed and looked around, spying his glasses lying a little way away where they’d dropped off Stan when he was shot, and jammed them on his face with a trembling hand. Nope, she needed an answer.

“Why did you switch?” she demanded.

“We thought Ford was the only one who Cipher would be distracted by for long enough to get the memory gun off him, but he was also the only one who knew how to work it,” answered Stan, looking like he was trying to distract himself. “So we switched so I could distract him and Ford could get the memory gun off him, and hopefully everyone would come out fine.” He winced as Ford shifted. “As you can see, it worked amazingly,” he grunted.

It was possibly the most ill-advised plan Addi had ever thought anyone could conceive of. On the other hand, they had pulled it off, in a kind of roundabout way.

“Ford, get me out of here,” Addi called. “I can help, I have medical training,”

Thank God Cipher hadn’t taken those memories from her.

“Not ta mention we’ve been chained to this wall fer hours and we don’t want to be anymore,” Fiddleford chimed in with a far more valid reason. When Addi looked at him, he seemed utterly confused, but she thought that was because of Stan and Ford: he’d been clear-headed enough to keep Cipher’s attention on them. That most definitely did not mean that he was fine, though; he trembled like a leaf, and he couldn’t hold himself up properly. She was getting him, and Stan, and Ford as well, to a hospital ASAP.

Ford hadn’t moved from his position tending to Stan. It was like he hadn’t even heard her. Her heart clenched.

Five gunshots right next to the ear, plus dazing from multiple blows to the head. He probably didn’t.

As if just noticing that the shirt Stan was wearing was beyond saving at this point, Ford sighed and complained – a little louder than he normally would have – “You got blood all over my clothes,”

“You got blood all over your own clothes,” Stan muttered, affronted.

“What?”

“You got blood all over your own clothes,”

“What?”

Stan rolled his eyes and gestured towards herself and Fiddleford. “Just- just go help them down, Addi can at least recognise snark…”

Following his pointing finger, Ford’s eyes widened and he sprang up, finally remembering them. The key was on one of the workbenches, and as soon as it was jammed into the slot on Addi’s manacles, they clicked open. She hissed as her shoulders rotated for the first time in hours, her fingers and forearms tingling painfully as feeling rushed back to them, her back aching-

And Ford enclosed her in a hug and everything seemed a bit more bearable.

What did she know? She knew… she knew he was important to her, very important, as both a friend and something not yet defined but certainly real. She also thought that they’d probably worked together. He made her happy. He was fun, and stubborn, and she knew she needed to help him out of trouble a lot, and... damn it, what else? The little she knew of before Cipher and the basement seemed like a hazy dream. The first moment she could remember between them was… a reunion? In the El Dorado forest.

No, that wasn’t true.

A flash of memories crossed her mind. Her heart beating fast as he held her hands and leant in close. The breath literally being driven from her as he elbowed her in the gut and immediately looked horrified. His suddenly nervous but pleased expression as she asked him to buy her a drink.

Reluctantly, she let him go, and made her legs stumble over to Stan. There would be plenty of time to puzzle out the past later, when they weren’t dying.

She shook her head and dropped down beside him.

“How’s your breathing?” Other than painful and quick. “Difficult? Do you feel like coughing?”

“Nah. Kinda hard to focus, though,” he said, head lolling around to her.

“That’s the blood loss. Try and stay awake, okay? Tell me all about, uh…” She faltered at the realisation that she didn’t know him well enough to bring up his interests. Then a name burst into being behind her eyes.

“Carla! Tell me all about her.” She bent down and listened to the hole in his torso, moving his hands for a moment. She couldn’t hear any air. The bullet had missed his lung then. His hands felt clammy as she pressed them back down. He was in shock, too.

“Ford, we really need to stop this bleeding,” she said, interrupting Stan’s rambling. Ford straightened up from helping Fiddleford to a chair.

“Right.” His gaze passed rapidly over all of them in succession, lingering harrowingly on Stan. “I’ll- I’ll go upstairs and call for help-”

“No, ya darn well ain’t gonna, Stanford Pines!” Exploded Fiddleford. “’Cause there’s a veritabibble army of Cipher Wheel murder-machines dressed’n human form up there and I haven’t had a cat-piddlin’ second to design my own murder bot fer a counterattack!”

Addi stilled. The Wheel. It was still active. And the only reason she and her friends were still alive was because they didn’t know their boss was now a garden ornament. If they came down here, out of all of them she was the only one who would have any kind of chance at fighting back – Stan needed immediate medical help, Fiddleford couldn’t stand on his own or stop shaking (and that wasn’t even addressing his mental state), and Ford was one good hit away from collapse himself. It really shouldn’t be up to the girl with a mind like swiss cheese to protect them all, but it appeared it was.

The elevator came to life and dinged open.

“Area secured,” Carla McCorkle, dressed in full tactical gear, said into her mike.

“We found ‘em. They’re in th’basement,” her partner breathed in relief, throwing her head back and slumping.

Her partner…

“Maddie!” Addi cried.

“Addi!” Madeline McGucket responded automatically.

∆

“It seems that trouble has once again come to Gravity Falls. In a shocking turn of events, the creepy cabin in the woods that we all feel like is watching us when we go near it and out of which strange sounds and black-ops-looking type people occasionally enter, has been the headquarters for a mad spy organisation this entire time. It was stormed by the FBI and Oracle Division – whatever that is – not two hours ago, and four severely injured individuals were safely recovered from the basement, in which they had been held prisoner by the leader of said mad spy organisation, Bill Cipher. In events that are not entirely clear, Cipher had been… turned into a statue? Is this right? It is? Alright then… Cipher had been turned into a statue. When it was brought up out of the house and our reporter on the scene questioned whether Cipher might still be alive inside it, the thing was fly-kicked into a million pieces by one of the aforementioned prisoners, a Mr Fiddleford McGucket, to assorted cheering from the other prisoners, the FBI, the Oracle Division agents, random spectators, and the mad spy terrorists themselves. To conclude, the answer to that question is a resounding ‘no’.

“Meanwhile, the prisoners themselves are receiving treatment at the scene, as they are apparently too stubborn to leave things in other people’s hands…”

∆

From what Stan could see from his position lying on the stretcher in the ambulance, the clean-up seemed to be going well. Red and blue lights flashed into the night, and an almost continuous stream of Cipher Wheel operatives were being led out of Ford’s house, loaded into FBI vans, and driven away. It was much easier to take in his surroundings now that pain and cold fear weren’t pulsing through his body; the paramedics had given him something, and now the entire left side of his body was numb. And they’d assured him he wasn’t dying anymore, which was a relief. Also, they’d bandaged up that bullet graze on his shoulder. It was nice to be looked after.

Carla’s fingers were winding through his hair.

“We’re getting married as soon as possible,” she said. She was sitting in a chair next to him, occasionally touching the plaster the paramedics had insisted on putting on her multitude of cuts and scrapes.

“We are?” he asked.

“We are,” she confirmed. “I don’t trust you not to go off on yet another adventure and do something reckless and get yourself shot again before our wedding day,”

“Me do something reckless?” Spluttered Stan. “You tackled an assassin through a window today!”

“But I didn’t almost die!”

“That bandage over your wrist arteries and those bruises around your throat beg to differ,”

She flicked his nose.

“Ow!” He decided to let her idiocy go, at least until he could properly defend himself. “Yeah, let’s get married soon,” he agreed.

The last of the Cipher Wheel agents were driven off.

“So, case closed, huh?”

“Almost, thanks to you,” she smiled. “There’s still moles in practically every agency on the planet, I’ll bet, not too mention all the bureaucratic higher-ups Cipher had in his pocket – Jheselbraum’s superiors, for one. Fortunately, Wexler is free to help us with that, now,”

Stan groaned. “I thought you were going to take a break! What happened to us having some time off together?”

Carla blinked, startled. “I- uh, well, I’m still needed, there’s still things to-”

“Agents! There you are,” Came Jheselbraum’s voice.

Tilting his head, Stan saw her standing at the entrance of their ambulance.

“I couldn’t help overhearing the tail-end of that conversation,” she stated, “and I’m afraid Carla is right, Stanley. There is still much to see to with regards to the Cipher Wheel investigation,”

Stan’s heart sank.

“In fact, Carla, as a reward for the extensive amount of time and effort that you have put into this case, as well as the exceptional valour, initiative, and determination you have displayed these past few hours in the midst of crisis, I have taken it upon myself to use my not-inconsiderable influence to offer you a promotion,”

Carla’s face lit up.

Great. More work for her to take on.

Jheselbraum continued, “This will enable you a firmer command over the investigation, and I expect you’ll want to take full advantage of the delegative duties now available to you,”

Delegative duties? Well, just because it doesn’t sound like more work doesn’t mean it isn’t…

“I should also mention that this promotion comes with the condition that you take appropriate steps to address the large amount of stress and mental strain that this has placed upon you. Whatever those steps may be,” Jheselbraum looked from Carla to Stan, and back again. “Some leave, perhaps? Or time to work from home?”

For one heart-stopping moment, Stan thought Carla was too proud to accept. A few different expressions warred on her face, until something in it cleared.

“I’ll take that as a yes, Supervisory Special Agent McCorkle,” Jheselbraum smiled.

Carla sat back in her chair, breathing out slowly, and then grinned at Stan, who beamed broadly right back.

“So that’s that, Agent McCorkle?”

“That’s that, Mr Pines” she agreed.

Stan looked out of the ambulance again. Directly opposite, another ambulance was parked, its back doors open to them. He raised a hand in a brief wave to Addi and Ford, who were cuddling with their legs swinging off the edge of the ambulance floor. Ford had finally gotten some proper stitches in his head, as well as a bandage around it, and a knee brace. Addi was physically fine, but had a shock blanket draped around her shoulders. His brother smiled back at him.

“How often do ya put trackers on me?” Fiddleford wondered. His ambulance was next to Ford’s.

“Only when there’s a big whoppin’ emergency,” Madeline answered. Fiddleford was sitting up on his stretcher, and Madeline had joined him on it. The tremors had all but stopped, Stan was glad to see. Those were what had scared Madeline and the paramedics the most, but it had apparently only been shock symptoms, and wasn’t indicative of any kind of lasting brain damage. That hadn’t stopped Addi from flatly stating that both Fiddleford and herself were going to be booked up in mental therapy for the next few months, an action which Stan for one wholeheartedly agreed with.

Funnily enough, Fiddleford’s erratic speech was nothing to worry about. Madeline had disclosed that it wasn’t that out of character for him. He was way worse when he was drunk, apparently.

Something that balanced out the heartbreak that Madeline had shown when Fiddleford hadn’t entirely recognised her was the amazement and happiness on his face when she managed to tell him that she – at this point flushed from the action of the conflict with the Cipher Wheel agents, dressed head to foot in tactical gear, and backlit by the light from the elevator like some sort of avenging angel come to save them all – was his wife. Since then he’d seen Fiddleford staring off into space occasionally, just thinking things over.

“So what’s happening to Oracle Division?” Carla asked.

“We’re dissolved,” Addi replied. She nodded off to where Jheselbraum had moved to talk to some FBI officials. “The director said our mission’s over. The FBI has it handled from here, and Oracle Division agents will be picked up by other departments,”

“Is that what's going to happen to you?” Stan inquired, looking between her and Fiddleford.

Addi hesitated.

“Like hell it is!” Fiddleford snapped for her. “Whatever son of a bitumen road tries to stop me from retirin’ right this minute is goin’ ta be sorry. Ah’ve had it up to here with spies!”

“Fair enough,” Stan said, as Madeline high-fived him.

“I think I’m done with that scene for a while too,” Addi said, nestling closer to Ford.

“In that case,” Ford said, clearing his throat, “since I appear to be out of a job as well, how would you like to stay here with me? I’ve been thinking about going the scientific research route for years now, and this seems to be the perfect opportunity to do it,”

“Wh- really? Yes, of course! I’d love to!” Addi exclaimed, lurching off his shoulder to look him in the eye.

Happy as anything, Ford leaned forward so he could see into Fiddleford’s ambulance. “You’d be welcome too, Fiddleford. I can also look back over the memory gun schematics, see if I can reverse-engineer them. Any chance to make things right-”

“Ford, ‘making things right’ isn’t going to happen,” Addi interrupted.

Ford looked shattered.

Addi blanched. “No, no! That’s not what I meant! It’s because the memories are coming back on their own! We don’t need you to make a reverse-memory gun!”

“Wait, they are?” exclaimed Stan.

She nodded at him. “Every now and then another one gets triggered,”

Ford looked at Fiddleford. “Is this happening with you as well?”

“It is. Maddie’s been tellin’ me about Tate, and I’m rememberin’ him better all the time,”

“Well then maybe-” Ford reached behind him and grabbed the Journal, which he’d taken from the basement – “it would help if I recounted our missions together… that is, if you want my help…?” He looked uncertainly at Fiddleford. Stan winced as he remembered the anger he’d seen on the man’s face as Cipher had indicated the Journal.

Fiddleford sighed. “Stanford, Addi’s right. Cipher didn’t need that thing to hurt us, it was just convenient for him. Ah’d greatly appreciate yer help, and,” He glanced at Madeline, who shrugged in an easygoing manner, “Ah’d be happy to work with ya in th’future,”

Relief crossed Ford’s features.

Stan privately noticed that Fiddleford was clearly – to him at least – holding back quite a lot. Those first sentences had a rigidity to them that Stan thought probably meant that while Fiddleford could say them, and know they were true, there was still a way to go before he would really believe them. However, the fact that he had said them meant that things were already looking up.

“So you’re… doing okay?” Carla cringed at the inadequacy of the question.

“Improvin’,” Fiddleford nodded. “The memory gun stopped workin’ on me after a while, so that’s helped. Don’t think Cipher noticed, or cared too,”

“It did?” Addi asked, wide-eyed. “I mean, thank God, but… it did?”

At Fiddleford’s shrug, Ford straightened up. “That’s incredible! Perhaps you built up a resistance to the ray, or maybe the gun lost its power after a while – although that wouldn’t explain why it continued to work on Addi… I wonder, if we took an MRI of your brain-”

“Ford, are ya a neuroscientist?” Madeline asked with an amused tilt to her head.

“Ah, no-”

“Then leave it alone fer now. Let’s just relax for a while,”

Ford gave an embarrassed grin and Fiddleford squeezed his wife’s shoulders contentedly.

“All that bein’ said,” he piped up suddenly, irritation entering his voice. “Writin’ down yer top secret escapades was an idiotic thing ta do, Stanford, and if I’m goin’ to be workin’ with ya, you’ll be usin’ a computer, yer hear?”

“Computer’s can be hacked,” Ford responded weakly.

“Not mine,” said Fiddleford grimly.

Ford nodded his acquiescence, not that he had much choice, and then turned hopefully to Stan and Carla.

“We’ve already got jobs,” grinned Stan.

“We’ve also got some mandatory leave,” Carla put in. “I’d be happy to spend it here. After all, we’ve got ten years to catch up on, Ford,” She offered, and laughed as Stan immediately agreed to the idea. He was in no way ready to say goodbye to his brother yet, and he didn’t think Ford wanted him to leave yet either. There was still plenty of sappy hugs and conversations to have before then. And it looked like they were about to start now, as Ford opened the Journal on his lap, pressed a kiss to Addi’s hair, rolled his eyes at Stan’s eyebrow waggle, and began to read.

What had his life been like two weeks ago? He’d had a girlfriend who loved him, but who had also been extremely pressured by her work. He’d had a steady-ish job, but no friends. And a brother who he hadn’t seen in five years. Two weeks ago, life had been lonely, and quiet.

Now, he had a fiancée who loved him and whose case was all but wrapped up so she wasn’t in danger of dying of stress, he had taken down a terrorist and probably deserved a medal or some cash or something, he had two very firm friends who pulled stunts he found completely nuts but which probably meant that they weren’t about to be scared away any time soon, and a brother who wanted him around, who liked talking to him, who once again wanted his help and wanted to help him in return.

Now, life was moving on to better things, and he was looking forward to their next adventures even more.

#gravity falls #fanfiction #spy au #double o sixer au #stanley pines #bill cipher #carla mccorkle #fiddleford mcgucket #adeline marks #jheselbraum #blind ivan #madeline mcgucket #stanford pines #*emperor voice*#BOOM BABY

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