#been forever since i drew alien nine...

[carmenpeach]

alien attack!

#alien nine #alien 9 #yuri otani #artists on tumblr #borg #art #been forever since i drew alien nine... #wish they would animate the rest of the series already #drawtober #drawtober 2020 #guns /

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 70

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"So they're letting you out?" Ruby asked.

"Well I've been in out-patient care and I got out of in-patient care." I shrugged. They were giving me my weapon back with a hefty fine and time-served. I guess they were desperate for reformed huntsmen on the right side of the law.

And my psychiatrist had eagerly pressed me through as truly reformed. I'd had to sit in front of a judge for my sentencing but my psychiatrist had explained who I was and the extenuating circumstances I had been through. A mind control semblance was the declassified word.

Horrifying.

"That's it then? You're free?" Ruby wondered.

"All horizons," I told her.

"Atlas law requires you to see a therapist for nine weeks minimum," Weiss cut in on my other side. "For the PTSD related issues."

"This fucking continent." I clenched a fist.

"It's for your own good. Better to not fight it and come out of it with something." Weiss said.

"I can't believe you're getting off so easily," Blake muttered.

"Hey did you get a deal like this once?" I asked. "And you weren't even mind controlled."

She looked away and said nothing. Truly reformed huntsmen were hard to come by and it was easier to snatch them up where they appeared. My psychiatrist, therapist, and neurologist all greenlit me.

"Speaking of, how are those meds they have you on treating you?" Weiss asked.

"They're sedating. But I'm managing. The ones they had me on before this batch gave me terrible nightmares."

"Is that how it works?" Weiss wondered.

"It's not an exact science. There's some guessing involved to find some that work for you."

"And these ones work for you?" Yang asked.

I waggled a hand. "I miss THC and CBD but this seems like a close second."

"The doctors said that those were both exacerbating your symptoms," Weiss wedged in.

"Those doctors have never had an alien goddess in their mind." I was met with a loud silence. They weren't sure what to say when I said something like that. No one was. Because no one knew what I was going through besides my sisters wherever they are. I paced forward. "So this is Atlas Academy?"

"We'll have to talk to the General about getting you a room," Ruby muttered.

"Oh I'm sure he'll be happy to see you." Yang rolled her eyes. "I mean, no offense."

"Yeah well I have to serve my time somehow. Military service is probably it for somebody like me. With my particular set of skills."

"But will he trust you?" Weiss asked.

"Better question. Should I be trusted or will I sell you all out to Salem again?" I asked.

"You didn't sell us out. You brought us the relic," Ruby said.

"I… I killed Ren and Nora, Ruby." I couldn't believe her. She still believed in me.  

"That wasn't you," she denied. Maybe she even believed it. I couldn't be sure with Ruby. Well I could. She was just hard to look at because of it.

"It wasn't not me. I have a lot to atone for, and I might do it again."

"You broke her control over you once," Weiss reminded me. She led the way through grey halls up to the headmaster's office.

"I keep telling everyone I have no idea how I did that though."

"You're not exactly selling me on this. On you," Blake informed me.

"Not really trying to. I'm trying to remind you how dangerous I really am. How much of a liability I could be. It's important."

"Cloud, how does this whole time served thing work?" Yang asked.

"That's a little up to Ironwood. He could send me anywhere but he sort of has to accept me somewhere. That's what the judge ruled. He's not a dictator. Not yet at any rate."

"It'll probably be better if you don't talk to him like that," Weiss said. "He won't appreciate it."

"You're probably right." I sighed. We took a grey elevator up to his office. It provided a scenic look out over the tundra and parts of Mantle.

Neo was out there somewhere. I contacted her and let her know I was watching for Cinder from this side and promised to let her know if anything was going down. I was sure she was managing just fine without me though. I was on the inside now. I could watch for Cinder better from here. I'd just have to trust that Neo would show up when it was opportune. I just hoped she wouldn't think I was abandoning her or the cause. Because I wasn't. I was still in camp ‘murder Cinder’ and she was a big girl, she could look after herself if only for as long as this charade lasted. It couldn't go on forever. Eventually I'd slip up and something Salem related would happen.

I also let her know I was getting some serious psychological help for the psychosis. She seemed neutral about that, though. Maybe she thought I was doing just fine. I hadn't been but I was glad she thought that.

Ironwood wasn't in when we arrived. That left us waiting outside for a bit. You couldn't really expect him to be in at all times.

Winter Schnee was there though. She gave me an icy glare and I just smiled back at her wolfishly.

"Oh, it's you," she said.

"Right back at you. How's the throat?"

"Just fine, thank you. You won't surprise me again."

"I don't need surprise to beat you," I told her. "You're fragile. Like glass. I was worried about breaking you. On accident. And don't think that becoming a maiden will bail you out. I almost killed Cinder and I was weaker then by a country mile."

"Weiss, you told him?" She looked shocked.

"He already knew. All about the bunker and what was in it." Weiss responded calmly.

"Neo and I did some digging in that department," I said.

"Ah yes, your criminal partner. Any idea where she is right now?" Winter asked.

"I have no idea." I told her honestly. "I have had no contact with her since my voluntary imprisonment," I then lied. I mixed the truth with lies.

"I see. Well should you remember anything Atlas would consider that necessary information."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I ought to teach you respect."

"Many have tried. Like my Mother. "

Her eyes gleamed, spotting weakness. "You meant Salem, I am sure."

"I did…" I trailed weakly.

"Winter, that's enough. Leave him be. Family is complicated and he didn't ask to be born to that monster. You and I should have some empathy for that," Weiss said.

Winter sighed down at Weiss. "Weiss…"

The general walked in and spotted us. He noticed Jaune armed with his weapon.

"They gave you your weapon back, so soon?" Ironwood asked.

"A week and half isn't that soon," I muttered. "I'm here for my assignment."

"I see. And team RWBY is…"

"Moral support," I granted.

"Have a seat Mr. Arc."

"It's Strife now."

"You changed your name, then."

"Arc was a fake name anyway. It was the name my parents gave me." I took a seat. There was a lot to unpack in that sentence I just said. Most people were given their names by their parents. Most people just didn't hate their parents like I did.

"I can respect that. Ozpin has recommended an assignment close by for you. I'm less convinced."

"He did? Why?" I asked.

"He wants to see if you are capable of his and Salem's kind of magic. He wants to train you if that is that case."

"Oh," I hadn't thought of that. "Well I did give his current body some training. Maybe he just wants to pay it forward."

"Perhaps. And he's done a great deal to protest your innocence. You should be grateful to him."

"Then I am."

"I have decided you will work out of this Academy. For the time being at least."

"You want me where you can keep an eye on me," I deduced.

"Things will go smoother if you have more trust in me than that. I am sure your therapists will have been trying to work through your paranoid thinking with you. Not everyone is trying to watch you, Mr. Strife." He steepled his fingers.

"But I'm pretty sure you are." Weiss elbowed me fairly hard in the side. "Regardless of your reasons for doing it I am grateful."

"I was hoping we could talk more about how you were made. You explored Merlot's laboratory and might have insights for me," he probed.

"I actually explored two different labs. I ran into someone in the second, near here in Solitas. Near a place called Nibelheim. He was a man with a mustache and a navy suit with yellow trimmings. He had green eyes and dark hair. I didn't see his weapon, though. He never used it. He said he was the one who made my sisters before he tried to use the laboratory…” I struggled for the word. “Defenses? To try and kill me."

"I see. But you found no more information on you or your sisters there?" He asked.

"No. Just more of my father's usual experiments on the Grimm. Something to do with turning them blue. I'm really not sure. The lab in Anima was like that too except he was turning them green and there were humanoid Grimm that he had designed. They were loose and in tanks in the facility. Tanks not dissimilar to the one he grew me in."

I felt a hand on my shoulder. Weiss's comforting aura drew in beside mine. She tasted like whipped cream and clear crisp crushed ice.

"And he grew you in one of these… 'tanks?'" Ironwood asked.

"An incubator of some sort, I'm sure. But to me they were just these sort of pods. Merlot's book has more notes on the one he used for me. It was a bit different than the others. He grew me from a fetus until I was nearly an adult in just a year," I said.

"That would make you young. Like Penny Polendina." His brow went up at me.

"Yeah. Something like that. I'm between three and four years old. I don't have an exact date for my birthday either. Don't remember if they ever gave me one or if it really matters considering I didn't have a birth," I informed him. "Anything else you'd like to know?"

“A great deal. About your origins. How you came to Beacon. Whether you have any insights into Salem’s weaknesses.”

“I don’t really know. And I’ll remind you that I am just a failure, after all." I wasn't really meant to last. I was just a prototype.

"Cloud..." Ruby whined behind me. The noise she made sounded like she was sad for a dog. It wasn't a good sound.

I ignored her. "I don’t really know how I came to attend Beacon. I don’t have any insights into Salem’s weaknesses. From my perspective she seems pretty unstoppable."

"It's impossible to say." Ironwood returned. "But if we should come up with a way to divorce you from her we will let you know."

"Thank you for telling me," I said.

"Of course. Now, let's see what you can do Mr. Strife."

"Finally, something I'm good at."

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I glid through the training chamber at one of the Ace Ops members. I hadn't learned their names but he had a boomerang rifle and he was a dog faunus.

I caught up to him and swung twice horizontally in two enormous strikes that buffeted him around when he tried to block.

He jumped back and tried to fire at me but my profile was low as I came at him in an unrelenting fashion. I palmed a dust crystal and hit him with a lightning bolt that knocked him to his knees.

I came at him with a diagonal cut when another Ace Operative grabbed me with extensions of his aura. He tried to stop me in place but I jumped and twirled and cut at his golden aura. I severed the extended hands and the removed parts dissolved into fading golden light.

I front-flipped, moving on to the new target. I landed up on some of the glowing cubes in the training room. He reformed his hands and tried to beat me but I just sliced through. I flew at him with both hands on my broadsword.

My sixth sense called out to me and I flicked my sword up to block the boomerang rifle. It rebounded back to its user and he opened fire on me as I went after the wacky inflatable arm guy.

I closed the gap on the pillar he stood on and slashed through his aura arms that got in my way. I kicked him off the pillar and brought my sword down on his head.  I cleaved deep into his aura and still I chased him as I blew him to the ground level with a massive overhead attack.

He had a lot of aura. He might be the only person I'd ever met in my own percentile of aura. He might even have more than me.

I chased him as he fell from when I slammed him and I beat him to the ground. I Cross Slashed him before he hit the ground. The devastating combination caught him up. The five move slashing attack tore away at his golden aura.

My Limit Break activated.

The dog faunus came around a corner and opened fire on me. I switched opponents again as I flew at him. I held my weapon between us and blocked most of his bullets. The few that got through pinged off my aura. I slashed upwards at him and he rolled to the side with a yelp.

I just stepped up on him again and swung upwards once more. Once he was airborn I had him right where I wanted him. I juggled him once. Then twice. Then again. He couldn't escape from the aerials I swung up at him.

I jumped up to match his height and Octa Slashed him with my Limit Break. He flew towards the ground and slammed into a pile of the boxes.

His light blue aura flowed to place over him before it vanished. I flew down on him in a swooping fashion and tackled him and carried him all the way to a wall of the arena. I stabbed my sword into the ground and beat the aura out of him with my fists. I punched him in the jaw. Then the stomach. Then I picked him up and slammed him into the ground.

Golden arms wrapped around me and picked me up and threw me across the room. I slammed into a pile of boxes back first. My head rocked back against the boxes. I stood up and put my sword against my shoulder.

The wacky arm guy landed next to the dog faunus and helped him to his feet. They turned to stare at me. I stared right back.

A golden arm slithered towards me across the ground and snagged my leg. It picked me up and slammed me face first into the ground. Then it rotated me and slammed me into the ground the other way.

Then it held me in the air and I got rocked by a boomerang to the face.

I snarled and cut myself free.

I landed on a pocket of air and descended towards the ground. I flew at the two of them through machine gun fire. An arm slashed at my side and I grunted but I cut through the next one and kept flying.

I landed between them and just to flex I charged my semblance to full. Then I swept my sword through the dog faunus's aura. He went down in a light blue crackle. He was lucky I hadn't hurt him for real.

I came at the next guy with a front-flip. I brought my sword down on him and he blocked with his aura. Even still my sword bit deep. I kicked him in the middle of the chest and he stumbled back a step. Then I flew at him with a knee and caught him in the face.

A golden claw slashed me to the ground but I never hit. Instead I floated on a pocket of air and rotated in place. I swept my blade around me and forced him back a half step.

The dog faunus stood up. "Marrow, don't!"

'Marrow' opened fire right into my back.

I whipped around and glared at him. I snarled. I hit him in the head with the blunt side of my weapon and he crumpled like a sack of bricks with a large bruise forming on the side of his head.

"Do you want to call this here?" I asked the one still standing. "Or do I have to beat you into unconsciousness, too?"

"I'll surrender. You fought well." The remaining man said sibilantly.

I nodded and put my weapon in the harness on my back. I hope there was more to Ace Ops than this.

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-WG

#white rose #whiterose #whiteknight #white knight #ruby rose #jaune arc #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #yang xiao long x blake belladonna #ruby rose x jaune arc x weiss schnee #lancaster #rwby #ff7 #ffvii #war of the roses #bumbleby #bumblebee #cloud strife #cloud!jaune arc #sephiroth!jaune arc #james ironwood #winter schnee #vine zeki #marrow amin #motion sickness

[baddadjokez]

514 Dad Jokes

What do you call a fake noodle? An Impasta.​I would avoid the sushi if I was you. It’s a little fishy.​Want to hear a joke about paper? Nevermind it’s tearable.​Why did the cookie cry? Because his father was a wafer so long!​I used to work in a shoe recycling shop. It was sole destroying.​What do you call a belt with a watch on it? A waist of time.​How do you organize an outer space party? You planet.​I went to a seafood disco last week... and pulled a mussel.​Do you know where you can get chicken broth in bulk? The stock market.​I cut my finger chopping cheese, but I think that I may have greater problems.​My cat was just sick on the carpet, I don’t think it’s feline well.​Why did the octopus beat the shark in a fight? Because it was well armed.​How much does a hipster weigh? An instagram.​What did daddy spider say to baby spider? You spend too much time on the web.​Atheism is a non-prophet organisation.​There’s a new type of broom out, it’s sweeping the nation.​What cheese can never be yours? Nacho cheese.​What did the Buffalo say to his little boy when he dropped him off at school? Bison.​Have you ever heard of a music group called Cellophane? They mostly wrap.​Why does Superman gets invited to dinners? Because he is a Supperhero.​How was Rome split in two? With a pair of Ceasars.​The shovel was a ground breaking invention.​A scarecrow says, "This job isn't for everyone, but hay, it's in my jeans."​A Buddhist walks up to a hot dog stand and says, "Make me one with everything."​Did you hear about the guy who lost the left side of his body? He's alright now.​What do you call a girl with one leg that's shorter than the other? Ilene.​I did a theatrical performance on puns. It was a play on words.​What do you do with a dead chemist? You barium.​I bet the person who created the door knocker won a Nobel prize.​Towels can’t tell jokes. They have a dry sense of humor.​Two birds are sitting on a perch and one says "Do you smell fish?"​Do you know sign language? You should learn it, it’s pretty handy.​What do you call a beautiful pumpkin? GOURDgeous.​Why did one banana spy on the other? Because she was appealing.​What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef.​What do you call a cow with two legs? Lean beef.​What do you call a cow with all of its legs? High steaks.​A cross eyed teacher couldn’t control his pupils.​After the accident, the juggler didn’t have the balls to do it.​I used to be afraid of hurdles, but I got over it.​To write with a broken pencil is pointless.​I read a book on anti-gravity. I couldn’t put it down.​I couldn’t remember how to throw a boomerang but it came back to me.​What should you do if you are cold? Stand in the corner. It’s 90 degrees.​How does Moses make coffee? Hebrews it.​The energizer bunny went to jail. He was charged with battery.​What did the alien say to the pitcher of water? Take me to your liter.​What happens when you eat too many spaghettiOs? You have a vowel movement.​The soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray was a seasoned veteran.​Sausage puns are the wurst.​What do you call a bear with no teeth? A gummy bear.​Why shouldn’t you trust atoms? They make up everything.​What’s it called when you have too many aliens? Extraterrestrials.​Want to hear a pizza joke? Nevermind, it’s too cheesy.​What do cows tell each other at bedtime? Dairy tales.​Why can’t you take inventory in Afghanistan? Because of the tally ban.​Why didn’t the lion win the race? Because he was racing a cheetah.​What happens to nitrogen when the sun comes up? It becomes daytrogen.​What’s it called when you put a cow in an elevator? Raising the steaks.​What’s america’s favorite soda? Mini soda.​Why did the tomato turn red? Because it saw the salad dressing.​What kind of car does a sheep drive? Their SuBAHHru.​What do you call a french pig? Porque.​What do you call a line of rabbits marching backwards? A receding hairline.​Why don’t vampires go to barbecues? They don’t like steak.​How do trees access the internet? They log on.​Why should you never trust a train? They have loco motives.​Is your refrigerator running? Better go catch it.​The future,the present and the past walked into a bar.Things got a little tense.​I saw an ad for burial plots, and thought to myself this is the last thing I need.​I just found out I'm colorblind. The diagnosis came completely out of the purple.​I'd tell you a chemistry joke but I know I wouldn't get a reaction.​Have you ever tried to eat a clock? It's very time consuming.​I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger. Then it hit me.​Read enough of our funny puns, and you'll be punstoppable.​Yesterday a clown held the door for me. It was a nice jester.​I used to go fishing with Skrillex but he kept dropping the bass.​The wedding was so emotional even the cake was in tiers.​What does a house wear? A dress.​Why can't bicycles stand up on their own? Since they are 2 tired.​I owe a lot to the sidewalks. They’ve been keeping me off the streets for years.​Imagine if alarm clocks hit you back in the morning.It would be truly alarming.​Why is a skeleton a bad liar? You can see right through it.​What do you receive when you ask a lemon for help? Lemonaid.​A man sued an airline company after it lost his luggage. Sadly, he lost his case.​What does a dog say when he sits down on a piece of sandpaper? Ruff!​What do you call crystal clear urine? 1080pee.​At my boxing club there is only one punch bag. I hate waiting for the punch line!​An untalented gymast walks into a bar.​Einstein developed a theory about space, and it was about time too.​I was accused of being a plagiarist, their word not mine.​My friends say they don’t like skeleton puns. I should put more backbone into them.​Let me FILL you in on my trip to the dentist.​Why does the singer of Cheap Thrills not want us to Sia?​Traveling on a flying carpet is a rugged experience.​Cartoonist found dead in home. Details are sketchy.​The old woman who lived in a shoe wasn’t the sole owner,there were strings attached.​Did you hear about the crime in the parking garage? It was wrong on so many levels.​My new diet consists of aircraft, its a bit plane.​Have you ever tried to milk a cow which has been cut in half? Udder madness.​Why are there fences on graveyards? Because people are dying to get in.​Why do trees have so many friends? They branch out.​Models of dragons are not to scale.​Never discuss infinity with a mathematician, they can go on about it forever.​Why don’t some couples go to the gym? Because some relationships don’t work out.​Don’t trust people that do acupuncture, they’re back stabbers.​A persistent banker wouldn’t stop hitting on me so I asked him to leave me a loan.​I ordered a book of puns last week, but i didn't get it.​People say i look better without glasses but i just can't see it.​Don’t judge a meal by the look of the first course. It’s very souperficial.​I heard Donald Trump is going to ban shredded cheese, and make America grate again.​I relish the fact that you’ve mustard the strength to ketchup to me.​What do you call a young musician? A minor.​Police were called to a daycare yesterday, where a 2-year-old was resisting a rest.​If artists wear sketchers do linguists wear converse?​I changed my iPod name to Titanic. It’s syncing now.​Jill broke her finger today, but on the other hand she was completely fine.​I smeared some ketchup all over my eyes once. It was a bad idea in Heinz- sight.​I flipped a coin over an issue the other day, it was quite the toss-up.​I got hit in the head with a can of soda? Luckily it was a soft drink.​I heard that the post office was a male dominated industry.​Why isn’t suntanning an Olympic sport? Because the best you can ever get is bronze.​What do you mean June is over? Julying.​Why is Kylo Ren so angry? Beause he’s always Ben Solo.​These reversing cameras are great. Since I got one I haven’t looked back.​The candle quit his job because he felt burned out.​Our maintenance guy lost his legs on the job, now he’s just a handyman.​Going to bed with music on gave him sound sleep.​A magic tractor drove down the road and turned into a field!​I met some aliens from outer space. They were pretty down to earth.​The plane flight brought my acrophobia to new heights.​My phone has to wear glasses ever since it lost its contacts.​I, for one, like Roman numerals.​How do mountains see? They peak.​The show was called Spongebob Squarepants but everyone knows the star was Patrick.​This is not alcohol, water you thinking?!​Novice pirates make terrible singers because they can’t hit the high seas.​I told my friend she drew her eyebrows too high. She seemed surprised.​The earth's rotation really makes my day.​If I buy a bigger bed will I have more or less bedroom?​Two peanuts were walking in a tough neighborhood and one of them was a-salted.​Two ropes were walking in a tough neighborhood and one of them was a-frayed.​What kind of shoes do ninjas wear? Sneakers.​I got a master’s degree in being ignored; no one seems to care.​After eating the ship, the sea monster said, I can’t believe I ate the hull thing.​Smaller babies may be delivered by stork but the heavier ones need a crane.​A bartender broke up with her boyfriend, but he kept asking her for another shot.​I had a pun about insanity but then I lost it.​He couldn’t work out how to fix the washing machine so he threw in the towel.​Why does the man want to buy nine rackets? Cause tennis too many.​Why don’t cannibals eat clowns? Because they taste funny.​If I got paid in lots of Pennes I would make loads of pasta.​I thought I saw a spider on my laptop, but my friend said it was just a bug.​A doctor broke his leg while auditioning for a play.Luckily he still made the cast.​The tale of the haunted refrigerator was chilling.​Why are frogs so happy? They eat whatever bugs them.​If you wear cowboy clothes are you ranch dressing?​I was addicted to the hokey pokey but I turned myself around.​Simba, you're falling behind. I must ask you to Mufasa.​I bought a wooden whistle but it wooden whistle.​The bomb didn't want to go off. So it refused.​The sore mummy needed a Cairo-practor​I feel sorry for shopping carts. They’re always getting pushed around.​The display of still-life art was not at all moving!​On Halloween October is nearly Octover.​Pig puns are so boaring.​Why couldn’t the dead car drive into the cluttered garage? Lack of vroom.​What do you call Samsung's security guards? Guardians of the Galaxy.​What does Superman have in his drink? Just ice.​How does a penguin build it’s house? Igloos it together.​Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.​The safe was invented by a cop and a robber. It was quite a combination.​What do you do when balloons are hurt? You helium.​One hat says to the other, "You stay here, I’ll go on a head."​How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh? Ten tickles.​When does a farmer dance? When he drops the beet.​When the scientist wanted to clone a deer, he bought a doe it yourself kit.​If people ask how many puns I made in Germany I reply, "nein"​Did you hear about the invention of the white board? It was remarkable.​If Donald Trump becomes president, America is going toupee.​Can February March? No, but April May.​I hate Russian Dolls, they are so full of themselves.​What do you do to an open wardrobe? You closet.​The magazine about ceiling fans went out of business due to low circulation.​So what if I don’t know what apocalypse means? It’s not the end of the world!​Some aquatic mammals at the zoo escaped. It was otter chaos.​A backwards poem writes inverse.​Getting the ability to fly would be so uplifting.​I asked my friend, Nick, if he had 5 cents I could borrow. But he was Nicholas.​The soundtrack for Blackfish was orcastrated.​Where do you imprison a skeleton? In a rib cage.​There’s a fine line between the numerator and the denominator.​I used to work at a hairdresser but i just wasn’t cut out for it.​Why is metal and a microwave a match made in heaven? When they met, sparks flew.​The lumberjack loved his new computer. He especially enjoyed logging in.​Garbage collectors are rubbish drivers!​When the church relocated it had an organ transplant.​Lettuce take a moment to appreciate this salad pun.​The scarecrow get promoted because he was outstanding in his field.​Sleeping comes so naturally to me, I could do it with my eyes closed.​I never understood odorless chemicals, they never make scents.​What do prisoners use to call each other? Cell phones.​Why was dumbo sad? He felt irrelephant.​When a clock is hungry, it goes back four seconds.​Old skiers never die. They just go down hill.​Did you hear about the pun that was actually funny? Neither have we.​You know why I like egg puns? They crack me up!​Want to hear a pun about ghosts? That's the spirit!​I used to make clown shoes… which was no small feat.​Did you hear about the human cannonball? Too bad he got fired!​What happened when the magician got mad? She pulled her hare out!​Did you hear about the circus that caught on fire? It was in tents.​The one day of the week that eggs are definitely afraid of is Fry-day.​A hen will always leave her house through the proper eggs-it.​The man who ate too many eggs was considered to be an egg-oholic.​All the hens consider the chef to be very mean because he beats the eggs.​Eskimos keep all of their chilled eggs inside of the egg-loo.​Under the doctor’s advice, the hen is laying off eggs for a few weeks.​I had a real problem making a hard-boiled egg this morning until I cracked it.​The best time of day to eat eggs is at the crack of dawn.​The chicken coop only had 2 doors since if it had 4 doors it would be a sedan.​Crossing a cement mixer and a chicken will result in you getting a brick layer.​That reckless little egg always seems to egg-celerate when he sees the light turn yellow.​Hopefully this egg pun doesn't make your brain too fried or scrambled.​Don't ever have multiple people wash dishes together. It's hard for them to stay in sink.​People using umbrellas always seem to be under the weather.​I dissected an iris today. It was an eye-opening experience.​What was Forrest Gump’s email password? 1forrest1.​What planet is like a circus? Saturn, it has three rings!​Before my father died he worked in a circus as a stilt walker. I used to look up to him.​Why did the lion eat the tightrope walker? He wanted a well-balanced meal!​I really look up to my tall friends.​I hate negative numbers and will stop at nothing to avoid them.​Long fairy tales have a tendency to dragon.​It takes guts to make a sausage.​Why shouldn’t you give Elsa a balloon? Because she’ll “Let It Go”!​What do you call cheese that’s not yours? Nacho cheese!​How do you make a tissue dance? Put a little boogie in it​What do you get when a witch goes to the beach? A sand-witch!​Where do cows go on Friday nights? To the mooooo-vies!​What did the mommy tomato say to the baby tomato? C’mon, ketchup!​Why did the banana go to the doctor? Because he wasn’t “peeling” well!​What did one snowman say to the other? Do you smell carrots?​Why didn’t the skeleton go to the dance? Because he had no body to go with!​What is a pirate’s favorite letter? Arrrrrr!​What does a piece of toast wear to bed? His pa-JAM-as!​What does one eye say to the other eye? Something between us smells​Why did the chicken cross the playground? To get to the other slide!​What happens when an egg laughs? It cracks up!​What do you call a bear with no teeth? A gummy bear!​Why didn’t the teddy bear want dessert? Because he was stuffed!​Why can’t you tell a joke while ice skating? Because the ice might crack up!​What do you call a pig that knows karate? A pork chop!​What’s mommy and daddy’s favorite ride at the carnival? A married-go-round!​How did Cookie Monster feel after eating all the cookies? Pretty crummy!​What do you call a skunk who flies in a helicopter? A smelly-copter!​What do you get when you shake a cow? A milkshake!​How do you catch a squirrel? Climb up a tree and act like a nut!​Why did the bee get married? Because she found her honey!​What did the ocean say to their airplane? Nothing, it just waved!​Where do eskimo pigs live? In pig-loos.​What’s a dinosaur called when it’s sleeping? A dino-snore!​What did the cookie say to the annoying cookie? Crumb on!​Why did Mickey Mouse go up in space? To find Pluto!​What does Olaf eat for lunch? Icebergers!​What letter is always wet? The C!​How do you throw a space party? You planet.​How was Rome split in two? With a pair of Ceasars.​Nope. Unintended.​The shovel was a ground breaking invention, but everyone was blow away by the leaf blower.​A scarecrow says, "This job isn't for everyone, but hay, it's in my jeans."​A Buddhist walks up to a hot dog stand and says "Make me one with everything."​Did you hear about the guy who lost the left side of his body? He's alright now.​What do you call a girl with one leg that's shorter than the other? Ilene.​The broom swept the nation away.​I did a theatrical performance on puns. It was a play on words.​What does a clock do when it's hungry? It goes back for seconds.​What do you do with a dead chemist? You barium.​I bet the person who created the door knocker won a Nobel prize.​Towels can’t tell jokes. They have a dry sense of humor.​Two birds are sitting on a perch and one says “Do you smell fish?”​Did you hear about the cheese factory that exploded in france? There was nothing but des brie.​Do you know sign language? You should learn it, it’s pretty handy.​What do you call a beautiful pumpkin? GOURDgeous.​Why did one banana spy on the other? Because she was appealing.​What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef.​What do you call a cow with two legs? Lean beef.​What do you call a cow with all of its legs? High steaks.​A cross eyed teacher couldn’t control his pupils.​After the accident, the juggler didn’t have the balls to do it.​I used to be afraid of hurdles, but I got over it.​To write with a broken pencil is pointless.​I read a book on anti-gravity. I couldn’t put it down.​I couldn’t remember how to throw a boomerang but it came back to me.​What did the buffalo say to his son? Bison.​What should you do if you’re cold? Stand in the corner. It’s 90 degrees.​How does Moses make coffee? Hebrews it.​The energizer bunny went to jail. He was charged with battery.​What did the alien say to the pitcher of water? Take me to your liter.​What happens when you eat too many spaghettiOs? You have a vowel movement.​The soldier who survived mustard gas and pepper spray was a seasoned veteran.​Sausage puns are the wurst.​What do you call a bear with no teeth? A gummy bear.​How did Darth Vader know what luke was getting him for his birthday? He could sense his presence.​Why shouldn’t you trust atoms? They make up everything.​What’s the difference between a bench, a fish, and a bucket of glue? You can’t tune a bench but you can tuna fish. I bet you got stuck on the bucket of glue part.​What’s it called when you have too many aliens? Extraterrestrials.​Want to hear a pizza joke? Nevermind, it’s too cheesy.​What do you call a fake noodle? An impasta.​What do cows tell each other at bedtime? Dairy tales.​Why can’t you take inventory in Afghanistan? Because of the tally ban.​Why didn’t the lion win the race? Because he was racing a cheetah.​Why did the man dig a hole in his neighbor’s backyard and fill it with water? Because he meant well.​What happens to nitrogen when the sun comes up? It becomes daytrogen.​What’s it called when you put a cow in an elevator? Raising the steaks.​What’s america’s favorite soda? Mini soda.​Why did the tomato turn red? Because it saw the salad dressing.​What kind of car does a sheep drive? A lamborghini, but if that breaks down they drive their SuBAHHru.

#dad jokes #puns #jokes

[fuyonggu]

Cao Jiong’s “Discourse on the Six Dynasties” (Short Version)

This is a shorter version of this post.

Discourse on the Six Dynasties

By Cao Yuanshou

Among the dynasties of ancient times, Xia, Yin (Shang), and Zhou each lasted for dozens of generations, while Qin perished after only two. Why was this? Because the lords of those three dynasties shared control of the people of the realm, thus the lords of the realm saw the sovereign's concerns as their own concerns, while the kings of Qin monopolized control of the people, thus in times of danger and distress no one was willing to come to their aid. Those with whom you share your joys will likewise sympathize with your sorrows; those you make your peers in peace will be your saviors when danger comes. The ancient kings knew that the sovereign who reigned alone could not ensure an orderly realm for long, thus they shared power with others in order to obtain stability; they knew that the ruler who defended the realm alone could not guard it forever, thus they shared responsibility with others in order to attain security. Both their intimate relatives and their distant kinfolk were employed; both members of their clan and outsiders from other surnames were advanced. Those of more or less power worked together to protect each other; those of the same or different blood acted in concert to shield one another. There were neither instances of "total annexation", nor were "traitorous impulses" allowed to fester.

Even when the Zhou dynasty was in decline, Duke Huan of Qi and Duke Wen of Jin still treated the King with respect and acted on his behalf. When the state of Chu refused to present its tribute of grass and thatch to the King, the state of Qi led an army to punish them; when the state of Song refused to help build walls around the King's capital at Chengzhou (Luoyang), the state of Jin executed their minister. Though the King's laws became lax and loose for a time, they were once again enforced; though the feudal lords become arrogant for a season, they were once more reverent.

It was said that "after the age of these two Hegemons (Dukes Huan and Wen), the feudal lords became boorish and remiss". Indeed, the states of Wu and Chu were defiant, trusting in the Yangzi to be their bulwark and the stout square walls of their cities to be their rampart. Yet though in their hearts they sought to "inquire after the Nine Tripods" (as though they had more right to dominion than the King), even then they feared to go so far as to outright threaten or oppress the royal clan. Wicked feelings scattered in the breast; treasonous plots died on the lips. Was it not because the King had trusted and empowered his kinfolk and relatives and employed and used the worthy and able? Don't the branches and the leaves grow great and luxurious because the roots and the stem depend upon them?

But from that time on, incessant fighting broke out between the states. Wu was taken over by Yue, and Jin split into three; Lu was conquered by Chu, and Zheng was annexed into Hann. Although originally most of the families of the feudal lords had come from the royal Ji family, by the time of the Warring States era, most of these royal relatives were long gone, and only in the states of Yan and Wey did they still rule. What was left of the King's domain was small and pathetic, threatened by powerful Qin to the west and menaced by fearsome Qi and Chu to the south; though they sought deliverance from their destruction, there was no one left to take pity on them. And even after King Nan was deposed to become a commoner, still the branches of the state grasped at each other's power, squabbling over an empty title. For more than forty years, the land within the Seas had no master.

The state of Qin occupied a powerful and influential region and was crafty at the arts of lying and deceit. Thus they were successful in their campaigns against the lords east of the mountains and were able to nibble the Nine States down to nothing. And by the time of the First Emperor, the imperial throne was once again filled. Yet when Qin employed force like this and a lack of virtue like that, how could they expect to last? In what sense did they have deep roots or a thick stem, to prevent themselves from being yanked up?

The Book of Changes states, "Though they cry 'perish, perish', he plants himself firm like a mulberry." Zhou was virtuous, and their longevity was because of it; such a verse could well describe them.

When the First Emperor of Qin considered the decline of Zhou, he felt that it was the weakness of the Zhou kings that had caused them to lose power. Thus he abolished the old system of the Five Noble Titles and organized the realm into commandaries and counties instead, and he threw out the methods of teaching the people through music and ritual behavior in favor of imposing stern and harsh government. His younger relatives received not an inch of land as fief, and his accomplished ministers had not a spade of land to call their own. Within, there were no royal relatives who might assist the state, and without, there were no feudal lords who might shield the realm from harm. He did not show a benevolent heart towards his flesh and blood, nor extend any kindness towards those who might have served as his branches and leaves. He was like a person who cuts off their own arms and legs, content to live as a mere torso; he was like a ship which, before crossing a wide river or a deep ocean, throws away its oars. There were many whose hearts turned cold when considering the danger of such a situation. Yet the First Emperor remained serene, believing that the capital area of Guanzhong was such an impenetrable region, a "bastion of golden walls and a thousand li", that his descendants would rule as sovereigns for ten thousand generations. Wasn't it ridiculous?

At the time, Chunyu Yue tried to remonstrate with him. He told the First Emperor, "I have heard that the Kings of Yin and Zhou granted fiefs to their relatives and their accomplished ministers, and their dynasties lasted for more than a thousand years. Now Your Majesty has become lord of all the realm within the Seas, yet your relatives are no more than commoners. Someday our dynasty might face the same threat of usurpation as happened with Tian Chang in Qi or the Six Ministerial Clans in Jin, yet Your Majesty has not provided for any powerful subjects who might help to guide affairs in the capital; who would step in to save the royal family? I have never once heard of any state which failed to heed the teachings of the ancients in these matters and yet long endured."

But the First Emperor dismissed these principles and heeded the advice of Li Si instead. And thus, on the day of his death, there was no one to whom he could entrust the future of the state. The weighty decisions of the realm were left in the hands of a miscreant, and the power to decide who and who would not inherit the throne was left to the words of a wicked subject. People like Zhao Gao were even able to bring about the slaughter and uprooting of the royal family.

Ying Huhai (the Second Emperor) had been instructed in the teachings of severity and oppression since youth, and he honored the philosophies of violent men as an adult. Rather than change the regulations and alter the laws of his father, he continued the models of Shen Buhai and Shang Yang, he consulted and plotted with Zhao Gao, he isolated himself deep within the palace, and he entrusted the governance of the realm to slanderous bandits. When at the last he met his end at Wangyi Palace, though he begged to be spared to live as a commoner, how could he have expected anyone to show him mercy?

Thus were the commandaries and the states alienated from Qin, and the people deserted and rose against them in rebellion; Chen Sheng and Wu Guang were the first to sound the call against them, and Liu Bang and Xiang Yu buried them in the end. If only the First Emperor has accepted the advice of Chunyu Yue and rejected the words of Li Si, if he had carved up the provinces and fiefs, empowered his younger relatives as Princes, granted domains to the descendants of the three dynasties (Xia, Shang, and Zhou), and repaid the deeds of his subjects by rewarding them with their own domains! Then the regions of the realm would have had settled lords and the people familiar masters. Branches and leaves could support one another; the head and the tail could work in tandem. Even if some of the successors of the Son of Heaven went astray, there were no great heroes in those days like Tang of Shang or King Wu of Zhou; the leader of any wicked plan would have been snuffed out before anything could be done, and how could the rabble of people like Chen Sheng or Xiang Yu have gotten anywhere?

When Gaozu of Han (Liu Bang) drew his three-foot sword and led his flock of crows to war, it only took five years before he had completed his imperial enterprise. In all of history, no one was ever able to achieve such a thing as easily as he did. But it was only natural. To chop down a tree with a thick trunk is a difficult undertaking, while to smash a bunch of rotten wood is easily accomplished.

Gaozu reflected upon Qin's mistakes, and he granted fiefs to his younger relatives. Thus when the clan of Empress Lü Zhi monopolized power in the capital and plotted to seize control from the Liu clan, the reason why the realm did not support them or the common people lose faith in the dynasty was because the feudal lords were great and powerful and the foundation of the dynasty was firm and deep. The Marquis of Dongmou (Liu Xingju) and the Marquis of Zhuxu (Liu Zhang) upheld the dynasty from within the capital, while the Princes of Qi (Liu Xiang), Dai, Wu, and Chu acted as guardians without. If Gaozu had followed in the footsteps of Qin and forgotten the systems of the ancient kings, then the realm would have passed from their hands then and there, and the Liu clan would have been supplanted.

Yet in his granting of fiefs and domains, Gaozu went beyond what the ancient kings had done. The greatest of the Princes had territories that straddled provinces and combined regions, while the lesser ones still controlled dozens of cities. There was no distinction between the Emperor and the Princes, for they wielded power on par with that of the royal family. This was what led to the Rebellion of the Seven Princes, Wu and Chu foremost among them. Jia Yi tried to warn of the impending danger, saying, "The feudal lords have become too strong and prosperous, and if the situation continues, turmoil will arise. For those who wish to ensure peace and order in the realm, there can be no greater policy than to multiply the number of the feudal lords while diminishing the power of each one. For when the spread of power within the Seas is like the relation of the arms to the body, or of the fingers to the arms, only then will those below lack hearts of treason or rebellion and those above lack any need to attack or punish the lords." Yet Emperor Wen did not listen to his advice, and his successor Emperor Jing rashly heeded Chao Cuo's plan to directly strip territory from the feudal lords; this only brought about anger and resentment among the close relatives and fear and trembling among the distant ones, and when the Princes of Wu and Chu sounded their call of rebellion, the other five Princes joined them.

What was sown during the reign of Gaozu reached fruition during the reigns of Emperors Wen and Jing; fiefs and domains were granted more generously than had been the case in ancient times, and the attempted solution was too hasty. When the tip is too large, it breaks off; when the tail is too big, it is difficult to move. Even when the tail is proportional to the body, sometimes it is still difficult to make it move; how much more does this apply when the tail has grown beyond all reason?

Emperor Wu of Han followed the strategy of Zhufu Yan, by implementing a policy of "grace", splitting up the inheritance of the feudal lords by distributing their domains among all their sons. Thus the princely fief of Qi was split into seven parts, Zhao into six, Liang and Dai into five, and Huainan was cut into three. And in later years the feudal lords were bullied and cowed, their descendants becoming ever weaker; they only received sufficient pensions and supplies to provide for themselves, but no longer took any hand in governing their fiefs. Some had their territories reduced on charges of failing to provide sacrificial wine and gold; some had their titles abolished when they died without heirs.

By the time of Emperor Cheng, the Wang clan, imperial relatives by marriage, had taken control of court affairs. Liu Xiang remonstrated with Emperor Cheng for allowing the situation to come to such a state, saying, "I have heard that the imperial clan are the branches and leaves of the state. When the branches and leaves have fallen, then the roots and the stem no longer have any support or shade. By now, your relatives of the Liu clan are all distant and remote, while the partisans of your mother's family monopolize control and keep the royal family from power. To leave the royal clan weak and helpless is no way to preserve the altars of state or ensure the succession of the imperial line." But though Emperor Cheng was moved to grief by this plea, still he was unable to implement Liu Xiang's advice.

Thus it was that in the reigns of Emperors Ai and Ping, the Wang clan's control of the court was absolute; Wang Mang passed himself off as a wise regent like the Duke of Zhou, but in truth he was a usurper like Tian Chang. Though presenting a lofty salute, he had his eyes on the throne; in a single morning, he became master of all within the Four Seas. The princes and nobles of the imperial clan all surrendered their seals and handed over their ribbons of office to him and presented tribute to the altars of state. Yet some of them, still worried that they would not be able to save the lives of themselves and their families, went so far as to invent reports of omens approving of Wang Mang's usurpation and even sang his praises to extol his grace and virtue! Was it not pathetic?

Why did these things happen? Not because the members of the imperial clan were loyal and faithful during the reigns of Emperors Hui and Wen and traitors and opportunists during the era of Emperors Ai and Ping, but simply because their power and influence had grown so weak and useless that they no longer had any hopes of securing their positions.

It was thanks to Emperor Guangwu's peerless character and abilities that he was able to destroy the dynasty that Wang Mang had already put into place and restore the severed lineage of the Han dynasty. How else to explain this feat except that it was the work of a scion of the royal clan? Yet Emperor Guangwu failed to reflect upon the mistaken policies which had brought about Qin's downfall or to return to the old system as practiced by Zhou. Thus he trod the path of a doomed state, and he was fortunate that there was no trouble during his own reign.

But by the time of Emperors Huan and Ling, eunuchs manipulated the levers of authority. In the court, there were no servants willing to risk death for the sake of the state, and in the provinces, there were no subjects who saw the interests of the royal family as their own. Above, the sovereign stood alone, while below, his ministers grasped for power. The roots and the branches were unable to work in conjunction; the body and the hands could not help one another. Thus the realm descended into chaos like a roiling cauldron, and villains and wastrels sprang up on every side; the ancestral temples of the imperial clan were burned to ashes, and the palaces became overgrown with weeds and grasses. In all the Nine Provinces (the whole realm) there was not a single place of peace or safety. Was it not lamentable?

The Grand Progenitor of our Wei dynasty, Emperor Wu (Cao Cao), was a man of wise and sage character and possessed divine martial prowess and cunning. He lamented the fact that the sovereign's laws had sunk to such a pitiful state, and he pitied the dire plight of the Han royal family. Rising like a dragon from Qiao and Pei and soaring like a phoenix from Yanzhou and Yuzhou, he purged and swept away the villains and evildoers of the land, and he cut out and annihilated the behemoths and leviathans of the realm. He welcomed the Emperor's arrival from the western capital (Chang'an) and established a new capital at Yingyi (Xu). His virtue impressed Heaven and Earth, and his righteousness touched the people and the spirits. Thus the Han royal family recognized the will of Heaven and abdicated their position to the Wei dynasty.

It has now been twenty-four years since the founding of Wei. Have we not had ample time to consider the factors which led to the rise and fall of the five dynasties before ours? Yet we do not follow the policies which would ensure our longevity. We have seen the carts in front of ours topple and fall, yet we do nothing to change our course. The younger relatives of the imperial clan hold empty titles and only nominally possess their lands, and in no sense do they preside over their people; the imperial relatives only scurry about the streets and lanes, and they are given no voice in how to govern the state. Their authority is no greater than the commoners, and their influence counts for no more than the average person. Within, the state has no deep roots to fortify it against being pulled up; without, it has no foundation of relatives and friends who could help defend it. This is no policy to preserve the altars of state for ten thousand generations.

Furthermore, the Governors of provinces and the Administrators of commandaries in our times have become the modern equivalents of the Border Lords and the feudal nobles of antiquity. They hold sway over territories of a thousand li, and they wield military as well as civil authority. Some of them control regions comparable in size to princely fiefs, and in some instances brothers from the same family all hold such offices simultaneously. At the same time, not a single one of the imperial kinfolk or the younger relatives of the crown hold any position that might check the power of these local leaders or band together to guard against them. This is no way to strengthen the trunk and weaken the branches, or provide against any emergency.

Of the worthy servants of the dynasty from other families, some have reputations so great that they are household names in the capital, and some are commanders of powerful armies. Meanwhile, even those members of the imperial clan who possess civil talents are limited to positions no greater than supervisors of small counties, while even those with martial abilities lead bands of no greater than a hundred soldiers. These are honest and lofty men, and yet their ambitions can rise no higher than to bear a yoke; they are talented and capable fellows, yet they are shamed by being lumped in with those who are not their peers. This is no way to encourage and promote the worthy and able, or praise and distinguish members of the imperial clan with ceremony.

When the spring runs dry, it is because the groundwater has stopped flowing; when the trunk is rotten, it is because the leaves have withered. When the branches are abundant, they shelter the stem; when the twigs fall away, the trunk is left exposed. Thus it is said, "The centipede has its hundred feet; even in death, it does not collapse, for its numerous legs still keep it up." It is a little saying, but it illustrates a great principle.

Furthermore, the foundation of a stout wall cannot be laid all at once, nor can power and legitimacy be established in a single morning. In both cases, these things can be achieved only gradually and secured only over time. It is like a plant or a tree, which requires a great deal of time to grow before the roots extend deep and the trunk becomes strong, and greater still for its branches and leaves to multiply and flourish. Can someone who casts a seed among stones and thickets or beneath the palace gates expect the plant to grow fruitful and tall? Even if they surround it with blackish and rich soil and warm it by the springtime sun, they will not even be able to save it from withering. And what are the imperial relatives but trees sown by the sovereign, and what are the people but the soil which receives them? Unless the relatives be planted among them for a long time, then there will be obstinate below and disdain above. Even in peaceful times, there would still be the prospect of alienation or rebellion; how much moreso when some emergency arises?

The sage ruler does not relax during times of peace, but is always thinking of future dangers. Though their dynasty seems secure, still they make preparations to guard against threats to its destruction. Only then may they have no fear of being uprooted, though the storms and gales may blow; only then may they be assured the state will not collapse, though the realm be full of turmoil.

[nightofnyx8]

Robstar Week Day 6: Children

So, I actually wrote this a couple of years ago, but I edited it to fit today’s theme. I find Mar’i to be a very interesting character to write, with many different sides to reflect her parents’. And based on the storyline in Kingdom Come, it’s always interesting to consider why she became Nightstar in the first place. So without further ado, I hope you enjoy today’s theme.

I fear the night.

The glow from the day slowly fades away, and darkness seeps into every corner. It swallows the light, chokes it. Night means uncertainty, blindness, cowardice.

Death.

Of course, my dad thrives on it. He whoops with joy as he swings from tower to tower in a black and blue bodysuit. The darkness clings to him, aiding him as he takes his enemies by surprise. A sudden chill, a metal clang, and then you're upside down as you're met with a smirk and a bad pun. The one and only Nightwing of Blüdhaven was the prince of the night (as a certain Bat claimed the crown as King).

My mom was different. She didn't exactly blend into the night (especially when her hair was on fire). She drew her strength from the sun, brimming with radiance and passion. There was little subtlety in her actions: just a high voltage starbolt with deadly aim. She wore her heart on her sleeve, her emotions the center of every decision. Dad says I take after her in that area, but I'm still not sure it's a compliment.

They made a good team, Nightwing and Starfire. Night and Day. Darkness and Light. Dad could cool her fiery temper, Mom made him laugh. She managed to drag him out of the evidence room, and he brought her back down to Earth when she drifted too far out. I guess it was only natural that I came along to complete everything.

I thought it would be like that forever.

But the night always comes, no matter how bright the day was. And in my family, it has a history of claiming the ones we love.

____________________________

It was stupid. So unbelievably unfair. She had faced the most unearthly demons: demented aliens, homicidal sisters, psychotic metahumans in Halloween costumes. But in the end, my mother was defeated by something so incredibly…human.

At first, we didn't think much of it. After all, the symptoms of a common flu were nothing to fret over. But a few days stretched into weeks, which turned into months. She grew weaker and frailer, her strength and glow dimming every passing day. She spent most of her time in bed, curled in a ball waiting for the pain to stop. All while her worried husband and daughter watched helplessly by her side.

When the results finally came back, it was worse than we feared. The disease found in her body had spread so quickly through her foreign DNA that it would have been declared terminal on the first sighting. There was nothing that the doctors could do. And even despite Bruce’s best efforts and research, it was to no avail. All we could do now was wait.

The morning after the news my father climbed on top of the roof and remained there for the rest of the day. No matter how many times Bruce or Alfred tried to coax him down, he stubbornly stayed put. Needing some comfort, my nine-year-old self flew up to meet him on the roof. As I landed softly next to him, he turned to look at me. His deep blue eyes that once held laughter and light were now hollow, empty, and hopeless. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and whispered, "I was the same age, Mar'i."

We sat there as the sun set behind the skyline, watching Bruce sped back to Gotham while dusk approached. It was a tender mercy Jason and Tim had volunteered to look after Blüdhaven for the time being. Nightwing simply didn't have the heart to don the mask tonight. We probably could have stayed up there all night when I heard a soft cough behind me. I turned to face my mother on the roof, who looked exasperated with the both of us.

"You will both catch colds if you two stay up here all night." She sounded exhausted, but her eyes held a bit of amusement in the fading light.

My dad suddenly came to life. "Kory! What are you doing up here?"

My mother scooted next to me and stroked my hair. "Well, it does get a little lonely down there by myself, especially after yesterday. Besides, the sun is setting. It is tradition, is it not, my dear Robin?"

Dad gave a timid smile at his old superhero name. But his demeanor changed quickly. "Kory, you should be resting."

My mother scoffed. "I have been resting far too much. I wish to do something more with my life."

"But Kory," my father sighed. "You're..."

"I do not have much time left, Richard. I want to spend time with you and Mar'i. I refuse to spend the rest of my life being afraid of even going outside."

Dad sighed. "I just don't want to lose you, Kory. At all."

There was an eerie silence on the roof as the inevitable truth sunk in. Wanting things to go back to normal, I tugged on my father's sleeve.

"Daddy, can you tell me a story?" I asked. He looked down at me with surprise before smiling.

"Only if your mother helps." He replied. Dad picked me up in his lap, just like he did when I was smaller, and pulled Mom close to him.

"Ok Mar'i," he started. "Let me tell you the time your mother first met a certain little Robin by almost destroying an entire city..."

____________________________

Surprisingly, the next couple of months were considerably normal: school, work, training, patrol. We had even gone to see Paris so Mom could finally see the infamous "tower of love." We could almost pretend nothing was wrong.

Almost.

My mother tried not to let anyone see it, but she was slowly fading. More time in bed was necessary, the trips to the hospital were frequent. The medicine receipts piled higher, as well as our stack of bills. She slowly began to lose her strength, her eyesight, and finally, her ability of flight.

But she always managed to keep a smile on her face around me and Dad. On better days, she would take me on short walks and point out the most random things.

"Look at that little robin, Mar'i. Is it not beautiful?"

"But it's just a bird, Mommy."

"Just a bird? Hmm, on the surface yes. But perhaps there is more than what meets the eye. Just like you, my little Bumgorf."

Relatively, these were happy moments. But at last the dreaded day came, and it started out perfectly.

Dad got work off early so we could go to the last night of the carnival. We ate too much cotton candy, failed at most of the games, and were about to go on the Ferris wheel when my mother suddenly doubled over and grabbed onto my Dad for support.

"Kory?" He watched in horror as his wife looked up at him with terrified eyes as she struggled to breathe.

"Kory!" He scooped up my mom bridal style and rushed to the car, his daughter along in a tow.

When we finally got back to the house, we knew we only had minutes. My dad had laid her down on the bed and clutched her hand while stroking her hair.

"Mar'i." My mother rattled. "Come closer. I wish to see you better." She reached out for my hand and squeezed it weakly.

I didn't say a word as I looked up at my mother. Her fiery red hair had lost its luster a long time ago. It hung like a dull rusty curtain over her pale face. Her beautiful features were slowly eroding due to the harsh medicines. But her eyes were still a vibrant glowing green, full of Tamaranean energy—the same energy that flowed through my veins.

"Kory," My father's voice broke as he placed his forehead against hers. She smiled and closed her eyes.

"Richard," she breathed. "If I could only express to you how much you mean to me."

My father kissed her temple. "I already know, Star. I've known for a very long time."

My mother drew me closer as she whispered, "Do not forget to smile, Mar'i. There is joy in this life if you look for it. Please, do not let your father forget that either. I love you, my little Starshine."

I cried as she held me, Dad wrapping his arms around the both of us as my mother gazed upon her little family for the last time.

____________________________

"That's Pegasus, and over to the left a bit is Andromeda."

"Is that what the Tamaraneans call them?"

"No, they have weird names for constellations, with even weirder stories. I can't even pronounce most of them."

"I bet I could."

"Okay fine, Princess. Nice to see that you're still humble as ever."

I smile as I slug Dad in the arm.

"Ow!" He complains. "You Tamaraneans seem to forget that your playful punches hurt."

"Quit being a baby and pass me the mustard."

Dad smirks as he gives me the large bottle with a straw sticking out. Our evening picnic by mom's grave seemed an odd sight to some, but we didn't care. Our little memorial marked seven years since my mother's passing. We spent the day with Gar, Rachel, and Vic at the pier as they told me the stories I had heard a thousand times. I never grew tired of hearing about my parents' adventures. Bruce and Damian came by the house later with about twenty floral arrangements to brighten up the grave. And once it hit 7 o'clock, my dad and I headed off to the cemetery to visit my mother.

Four years ago, Dad put his foot down. We were not going to just stare and cry at a headstone all day. So he packed a lunch along with some scrapbooks into our picnic basket as we set off for the cemetery. He said Mom would have wanted us to throw a party or something to celebrate her life. The tradition had remained ever since.

"Speaking of Tamaran, I found this the other day while I was cleaning the attic." He pulls out a small white package and hands it to me. I remove the wrapping to discover a round magenta pendant, set in a silver casing. Its polished surface gleams in the moonlight.

"It was your mother's." Dad says. "She told me it was the only thing she could grab before she was taken by the Gordanians."

I hold up the pendant and trace my finger over the worn Tamaranean markings on the edges. "It's beautiful."

"It's yours." Dad states simply.

I look at him in shock. "But...this is moms. Doesn't it belong to you?"

Dad wraps my fingers around the pendant and looks at me with imploring eyes. "Mar'i, she would have wanted you to have it. Besides, you're the one who's got Tamaranean blood."

I sigh. "Like I even have a clue how to live up to that title. How am I supposed to control...this?" I feel a tingle up my arm as green energy collects around my closed fist. The starbolt isn’t refined and accurate like my mother's. It crackles and burns in the cool night air. Uncontrolled.

My dad gives me a wary look. "You'll learn, Mar'i. It just takes time."

My starbolt fizzes out as my emotions give way to grief. "I miss her."

"I know Starshine, I know. There's not a day that goes by that I don't miss her by my side." He draws his arm around my sagging shoulders and pulls me close to his strong chest. We stay that way for a while as the breeze blows my tousled hair away from my face.

"Dad?"

"Mhm?"

"Do you think Mom's watching us right now?"

He looks up at the shimmering constellations. "I know she is. She's probably dragging my parents around up in Heaven and gushing about how gorgeous her daughter is."

I let a small smile break through. "She really loved us, didn't she?"

Dad gazes back at me with intensity. "Mar'i, you were her world."

I crane my neck to see the stars above. We used to spend hours naming the constellations. Sometimes Mom would even bring me to meet Dad on patrol so we could climb the highest tower and see them a little closer.

That seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Dad, can you tell me a story?" I put on my "I'm-still-your-little-girl" face for the extra effect.

He laughs. "I'm pretty sure that's not a single one you haven't heard at least fifty times."

"Oh come one, there's got to be at least one you haven't told me yet."

He gazes off as he thinks for a moment. "Aha! I've got it!"

I lay my head on his shoulder as he goes off on one of his and mom's adventures. I close my eyes and try to picture my mother sitting next to us, laughing at Dad's stupid jokes while holding me close.

I open my eyes and smile. I'm a part of her legacy. Hers and Dads. And even if she couldn't be here physically, I could still bring a part of her back down to Earth.

Perhaps it was time to let go of old fears. Accept and move forward. Like an old Bat once said, to conquer fear, you must become fear. Maybe I could do the same.

For if we did not have the night, then how could we see the stars?

____________________________

Ok, I honestly cried writing this, but according to Kingdom Come Starfire died of some circulatory illness. It is interesting considering her alien anatomy, but I wanted to focus on how Dick and Mar’i may have reacted to the situation. Anyway, thank you for reading and I promise a happier story next time. :D 

#robstarweek2019 #robstar #mar'i grayson #fanfiction #writing #kingdom come #nightstar #dickkory #dc #robstarweek 2019

[chocolatequeennk]

Bound Forever

Rose knew how it worked: the first time you touched your soulmate, skin to skin, you would see glimpses of their past lives. And when a stranger took her hand and told her to run, that was exactly what happened. 

Nine x Rose, canon ‘verse

For this prompt on @otpprompts (you see your soulmate’s past lives) and for @doctorroseprompts Soulmates September. 

Thanks to @lastbluetardis for looking over this for me.

AO3 | FF | TSP

Rose was stuck. She got up every day with her alarm, pulled on a version of the same jeans and hoodie outfit she wore every day, and took the bus into town… just like every other work day. Lunch with Mickey in Trafalgar Square, just like they always did when he could get away, then back to work.

Lunch was the hardest part, really. Well, any time spent with Mickey. After dating for three months, they both knew they weren’t soulmates. Rose suspected Mickey harboured feelings for her and would be happy to dismiss the idea that there might be someone else out there for him, but she just… couldn’t.

She wanted that rush, the moment when she took her soulmate’s hand and could see all the lives he’d lived before. She wanted to share the life he was living now.

But she had to find him first.

Four hours later, Rose cowered against the basement wall as an army of shop window dummies advanced on her, cursing herself for moaning about her boring life. Boring was still alive, at least.

Then a hand took hers, and her head snapped around to find the person it belonged to. Brilliant blue eyes sparkled at her, and he said just one word: “Run!”

At least, she thought that was what he said. It was hard to focus on the here and now when her mind was being flooded with images of people and places she’d never seen before. A man with a Beatles hair cut, a tall bloke with a ridiculously long scarf, a blond in cricket garb…

The second time she met the Doctor, the day after he blew up her job, she saw strange places she could never imagine. Red grass and orange skies and the light from two suns shimmering off silver trees. She looked through the door of a blue police box and saw an enormous room, much bigger than the outside of the box.

And then she watched him step into that same bigger-on-the-inside box, and she knew she needed answers. Who was her soulmate? What was he?

When she visited Clive that afternoon, she didn’t blink at his stories about the things the Doctor had done. Just two days ago, she would have dismissed him as a nutter with some conspiracy theory, but after everything else she’d seen of her soulmate’s life, the idea that he was some kind of angel of death, showing up at every tragedy in human history, was frankly a better theory than anything she’d come up with.

She stared at the picture of the Doctor on Krakatoa, then asked the question in her mind. “You said it’s a title passed down from father to son,” she said. “Has the Doctor always looked like this, or… I mean, surely not, right?”

Clive blinked up at her, then a broad smile stretched across his face. Obviously, no one else had ever taken him quite so seriously when he started rambling about the Doctor.

He fumbled through his portfolio and finally pulled out another picture. Rose immediately recognised the blond in cricket whites, and she reached for the photo without realising it.

“Who do you think he is?” she asked, studying the younger face of her soulmate’s past incarnation.

Clive took a deep breath. “I think he’s the same man. I think he’s immortal. I think he’s an alien from another world.”

In her mind’s eye, Rose pictured that red grass and orange sky. An alien from another world.

She blinked once, and realised Clive was looking strangely at her. “Right!” she said, a little too brightly. “Well, thanks for your help. I should go now—after all, my boyfriend is still waiting to make sure you aren’t gonna murder me.”

Twelve hours later, the Doctor—her soulmate—stood in the doorway of his spaceship, inviting her to come with him. Rose took a step forward, but Mickey’s arms around her legs stopped her.

“Don’t. He’s an alien. He’s a thing.”

Rose sighed and looked at the Doctor. “Gimme just a minute to say goodbye, yeah?” An emotion she instinctively recognised as surprise lit his blue eyes, and she realised he hadn’t actually expected her to come with him. There was something there, some feeling of unworthiness that they’d need to work through, but that could wait.

For now, she looked down at Mickey. “Micks, look,” she said, keeping her voice low and hoping the Doctor didn’t have like, super-hearing or something. “You and me, we were never gonna work long-term. You know that.”

“Is this about that soulmate rubbish?” Mickey said fiercely, rocking back so he was sitting on his heels. “You know I don’t care about that, babe. I just want to be with you and make you happy.”

Rose pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, well I do care about it,” she snapped, before taking a deep breath. “Especially since I finally found ‘im.” Mickey’s brows drew together in a deep frown, and she rolled her eyes. “The Doctor, you idiot,” she hissed. “He’s my soulmate.”

Mickey tumbled back on his arse in surprise, and Rose took advantage of the moment to step away from him and jog towards the TARDIS. She looked back when she got to the door. “I’ll see you later.”  

The Doctor was already standing by the centre console, and Rose watched him as she closed the door and walked down the ramp. He kept fiddling with controls instead of looking at her, and the tips of his ears were bright red.

Oh, bugger.

She took a deep breath. “So, you won’t look at me, and I’m guessing that means you actually do have super-hearing.”

The flush went down his neck, but he looked up at her. “Something like that,” he admitted. “Soulmates, Rose Tyler?”

She bit her lip and studied him. If he was an alien, maybe they did soulmates differently. But all she could do was tell him what she knew. “You used to wear this really long scarf.”

His eyes widened, and she took a step towards him.

“And then in one life, you had a yellow car you named Bessie.”

The Doctor leaned forward on the console, like his knees had just given out.

“And whoever told you that celery was an accessory?”

He laughed breathlessly. “I heard humans could see past lives when they met their soulmates.”

Rose tilted her head and looked at him. “What do you see?”

The Doctor swallowed hard. “I can see… timelines. It’s hard to explain. But I haven’t been looking at timelines at all lately, so I haven’t…” He held out his hand. “May I, Rose?”

Rose’s heart raced when she took his hand. The Doctor immediately sucked in a deep breath, then his eyes slammed shut. In addition to feeling the turn of the Earth, Rose could see the hazy memory of recent loss, and she knew without asking that whatever had happened, it was why he hadn’t expected her to come with him.

The Doctor rocked back on his heels and his eyes opened. “Rose,” he breathed, his eyes wide with awe. “You are… in the very fabric of time itself. And your life is bound to mine, forever.”

Rose squeezed his hand. “Well, it better be.”

The Doctor shook his head slightly, and Rose got the impression that there was more to the word “forever” than how it sounded to her. But then a wide smile stretched across his face, and suddenly her heart was racing so fast she couldn’t think about anything except the man in front of her.

He let go of her hand and turned back to the console. “Where would you like to go first, Rose?”

She grinned at him, smirking to herself when his gaze zeroed in on the tip of her tongue that she let peek out between her teeth. “I don’t know—why don’t you impress me?”

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed at the challenge. “All right then, Rose Tyler.” He reached for the TARDIS controls, a light shining in his eyes. “Have I mentioned, it also travels in time?”

#ficandchips #fic by Nancy #nine x rose #otpprompts #doctorroseprompts #soulmates au #i saw the prompt with past lives and couldn't resist

[woozletania]

Rocket: A Little Lawyer (mini-fix fic)

Author’s note: “The horrifying bloodshed of Rocket: In The Beginning is averted by something as simple as a reactor tech who happened to be taking legal classes after hours. In this AU of an AU Rocket will never join the Guardians but he might end up as their legal counsel some day.”

A little lawyer By Strega

Paul Foster was the only researcher who showed Project 89P13 the slightest kindness.  To everyone else the little raccoon was a research animal and the fact they were Uplifting the thing to sapience changed nothing. They still conducted the torturous surgeries that crammed the furry thing's little body full of cybernetics and the associated pain and trauma made the raccoon violent and unpredictable. Nor did the Uplift take, was far as anyone but Doctor Foster knew.  He was the only one who as much as suspected that 89P13 was hiding its intellect out of a stubborn refusal to give them what they wanted.

Only Paul would pause by the thing's cage and stroke its fur through the bars. Anyone else risked a finger to 89P13's fangs but it would press its cheek against the bars and let him pet it as long as he liked. No one knew he was sneaking the thing painkillers to blunt the agony when the nerve tech's neural blocks failed, as they often did.  Only Paul cared enough about a mere research animal to try to make its miserable existence a little better and it would wake from a sound sleep at the sound of his footsteps and wait bright-eyed until he played with it or petted it. Those crumbs of human kindness were the only things keeping 89P13 from going utterly mad.

Foster was ultimately responsible for what happened but at the time even he underestimated 89P13.  When it stole a ring from his finger he had no idea it would gnaw and twist it into a lockpick and after that the raccoon had the run of the complex after hours.  The air vents were much too small for an adult human but the raccoon's skinny little body fit well enough and it was soon typing away at unsecured computers and learning at a furious rate.  Things might have ended very badly indeed had it not discovered that the reactor technician was studying for a law degree and had a substantial cache of legal textbooks on his computer. The angry little raccoon read, and learned, and planned, and what would have been a bloody rampage of revenge instead ended in the courts.

It was two weeks after the last implant surgery and a week into Doctor Tschu's forced-learning program that was supposed to turn the thing into a mechanical genius when it happened. Suddenly klaxons blared, red strobes flashed and a chill went down the staff's collective spines as a reactor breach warning sounded. Fusion reactors were among the safest power sources known to man or alien but failures, when they happened, were spectacular and the staff evacuated posthaste while disaster response was summoned. When the tech came appeared with the news the fortified reactor-room door couldn't be opened the staff ran all the faster.

Only Paul Foster turned against the tide of escaping scientists, ignoring the yells of his friends to run to the project holding area. He'd never opened 89P13's cage before and the little raccoon had never been unrestrained in a room with a human but 89P13 knew something bad was happening and climbed willingly into his arms, clinging to his lab coat like a frightened child. Paul ran all the way to the vault-thick outer doors and made it out just as the emergency response team, the police and the press showed up.

"Some sort of reactor incident," Director Randolph was saying to a cop.  "All the maintenance is up to date, we have full documentation -"

"What the hell is that thing?" Floating press cameras homed unerringly in on the half-shaved animal clinging to Paul Foster. Only now did the rest of the staff see 89P13 and the closest ones drew back from what was normally a violent little animal.

"Just a research animal," the Director said, and the cop shrugged.

"No," rasped 89P13, and every eye in the crowd went wide.  Even Paul was astonished, as 89P13 had never spoken before, and half the cameras zoomed in on his thunderstruck face while the other followed the raccoon's as it; turned in his arms to face the cop.  "Not a-ny more."

"Offic-er Grund," it said to the blue-skinned Kree cop, "Under the terms of the Uni-form Sap-i-ence Act, Sec-tion five, par-a-graph three, I req-uest sanc-tu-ary on the basis of in-hu-mane treatment."

Cameras were zoomed in on the cop as well and he knew it. The horrific scars and ugly cybernetic implants protruding from the raccoon's back were plain or all to see. "Under the terms of the Act," the Kree said, his actions dictated by the law no matter his personal opinion, "Sanctuary is granted. Do you have a patron?"

"I nom-i-nate Paul Fos-ter," 89P13 growled, and though he had never imagined himself in this situation Paul responded instantly.

"I accept," he said without hesitation.

"God damn it, Paul," Director Randolph snapped.  "What are you doing?  We've put four and a half million units into that thing."

"Six mil-lion," 89P13 growled.  "You will trans-fer one point five mil-lion units, half to Paul Fos-ter and half to an ac-count I will cr-eate."

"I will do no such thing," the director snapped.

"You will or I will bring suit under the Sap-i-ence Act."

"Director," said Doctor Ernst, and put his hand on Randolph's shoulder.  "If this goes to trial -"

The blood drained from Brenton Randolph's face as he realized the implications. Uplifting an animal only to make it a sex slave, servant or gladiator was such an obvious idea that laws had long since been created to prevent it and public revulsion at horrific cases of the practice made it as unpopular as child abuse. Child molesters didn't fare well in prison and neither did Uplift abusers. Even a brief stint in prison might be unsurvivable.

He had one last, weak argument.  "None of this applies.  This wasn't a sapient until we made it one.  It's a research animal, pure and simple."

"Sec-tion three, par-a-graph nine," 89P13 continued relentlessly.  "'The pro-ven-ance of the sap-i-ent is imm-at-er-ial.  An Up-lift-ed crea-ture is pro-tect-ed by the Act as soon as it can ask for sanc-tu-ary."

Randolph was aware of the many cameras watching every facet of the drama. This would end his career, he knew. Both the horrific nature of the Uplift (which was sure to get out or at least be speculated on based on the scars on 89P13's back) and being publicly blackmailed would tar his reputation forever. But it wasn't just him he had to consider.  If the little monster brought suit it would bring down his entire team, except any it chose not to name - Foster for sure, maybe Chang, since the silent but competent surgery assistant had little interaction with the beast.  But Osterman, Ernst and Kinkaid for sure, Tschu...he couldn't send them to prison by refusing.

"I don't know how you know all this," he said sourly, "But I will transfer the money if you swear not to press charges."

"I so swear," 89P13 said, and a few people in the crowd cheered.  The disaster response team disappeared into the complex, emerging shortly thereafter to report it was a false alarm (whereupon 89P13 smiled smugly) and Officer Grund took Foster and the uplift aside to file sworn statements regarding the Uplift and his new status.

"Well," Paul said, "I guess that's that.  I am out of a job but that's ten years pay.  I think I can scrape by until something else turns up."

"We," 89P13 said, still clinging to his lab coat.  "We will scrape by."

"Until you're ready to stand on your own," Paul said, and 89P13 nodded. "What do you want to do now?"

"Live," said 89P13.  "I have learned to sur-vive, Paul Fos-ter. And to hate.  Teach me to live."

"Would you be adverse to being adopted? You'd have full legal status as a citizen then, not just sanctuary."

"I would like that ve-ry much," 89P13 said, and rested the top of his head beneath Paul's chin as they made their way to the police station. "Ve-ry much."

And that was how Paul Foster suddenly had a son.  A three foot tall, furry, often angry, and still traumatized son, but a son nevertheless. And a son, it turned out, who had a great future in the legal profession.

#Rocket Raccoon #Guardians of the Galaxy #marvel #human #law

[asktheadeptus]

Vulkan

"You have suffered. I know this. You have come to the abyss, and almost surrendered yourselves to it. That changes now. I am father, general, lord and mentor. I shall teach you if I can, and pass on the knowledge I have gained. Honour, self-sacrifice, self-reliance, brotherhood. It is our Promethean creed and all must adhere to it if we are to prosper. Let this be the first lesson..."— Primarch Vulkan in his inaugural address on Nocturne to the survivors of the XVIIIth Legion

Vulkan was one of the 20 superhuman Primarchs created by the Emperor of Mankind from his own DNA to lead his Great Crusade and reunite the scattered peoples of humanity within the Imperium of Man. The XVIIIth Legion, created from Vulkan's genome was re-named the Salamanders after the great fire-resistant reptiles native to his volcanic homeworld of Nocturne in memory of the legendary contest between the Emperor and Vulkan that had involved slaying one of those dangerous beasts. The outcome of this contest had revealed the Emperor's identity and restored Vulkan to the Imperium. Approximately a thousand standard years after the Horus Heresy, Vulkan hid 9 sacred artefacts he had created around the galaxy for his Chapter to find, as a test to see if they were worthy of his leadership. He then disappeared, leaving his Chapter with the message that whenever the Forgefather of the Salamanders had found all nine items, Vulkan would return to lead his Chapter to victory over the enemies of the Imperium in its final days of greatest need, according to the signs foreseen in the Chapter's book of prophecy, the Tome of Fire.

History

Youth

When the Primarchs were first created within the gene-laboratories hidden beneath the Himalayan Mountains on Terra, though the machinations of the Chaos Gods the capsules of the nascent Primarch were scattered across the galaxy. The Promethean Opus (source of much Imperial knowledge of Vulkan) tells the tale of how one of these children ended up on the feudal Death World of Nocturne during one of its tumultuous periods known as the Time of Trial. Among the hardy and stoic people of Nocturne, the infant Vulkan had fallen like a blazing comet, and into the home of a "Black-Smiter", - a metal worker by the name N'bel, in the city-settlement of Hesiod - he had been taken as a foster child. N'bel, recognized the child as the one prophesied to be a savior by the teachings of the Promethean Cult, and named him Vulkan. Like all the Primarchs, Vulkan grew very quickly, reaching full adulthood (and a size bigger and more muscular than any man on Nocturne) by the age of only three Terran years. He was also highly intelligent, able to vastly improve the already considerable metalworking skills of the famed smiths of Nocturne. Quickly, he had risen in strength and wisdom, embracing the culture which had taken him up, working in his adopted father's forge and hunting the great saurians and other beasts bestirred by the planet's fiery temper, becoming a legendary champion in his world's defense against far more dangerous foes; "Dusk Wraiths" as they were known in Nocturne. In reality, these creatures were of the most degenerate and vile class of Eldar Slavers (Dark Eldar), nightmarish beings to whom pain and slaughter were as meat and drink, who sought to prey periodically on the hardy people of Nocturne for their own wicked sport.

The Opus tells that during Vulkan's fourth year, his town was attacked by the Dark Eldar, who were on a slave-taking expedition. The people of his hometown hid, as they usually did when the decadent xenos came raiding, but Vulkan refused to hide. Armed with only a pair of blacksmith's hammers, he roused the people from hiding and drove back the assault, single-handedly slaying a hundred Dark Eldar warriors. As word of the battle spread, the headsmen of the seven most important settlements on the planet came to pay homage to Vulkan, swearing to forevermore crush their foes rather than hiding from them. Against this threat Vulkan became transformed, and his legend spread across his world. He was the "fire-born" -- an undefeated warrior whose superhuman strength had torn the slave-barges down from the sky and crushed the xenos in droves, and whose granite-like flesh had scorned their poisoned blades unmoved, driving the Dusk Wraiths from Nocturne.

The Outlander

In celebration of the Primarch's victory over the Dark Eldar, a tournament of various contests involving tests of strength and craftsmanship common to the people of Nocturne was held. During the opening ceremonies, a stranger appeared. His skin was unusually pale, compared to the dark, swarthy complexions of the people of Nocturne, and his clothes were very strange, made of materials unfamiliar to the pre-industrial Nocturneans. The stranger asked only to be allowed to compete. The stranger claimed that he could best any man at the competitions, causing many people to laugh at the seemingly inadvertent comparison to the superhuman Vulkan. Vulkan accepted the challenge, and the stranger wagered that whoever lost the challenge would swear his eternal loyalty and obedience to the victor. With a smile at such effrontery, Vulkan agreed to the stranger's terms.

Lasting for eight Nocturnean days, the contest included many tests of strength and endurance. The people of Nocturne were treated to the spectacle of two godlike beings competing against one another, utterly astonishing the mere mortals around them with their superhuman prowess. Many of the contests had to be called a draw between Vulkan and the fair-skinned stranger, for there was simply no way to determine a victor. For instance, the anvil lift, where the contestants were required to hold an anvil aloft above their heads for as long as possible, ended in a tie when the two superhuman competitors both held anvils aloft for half a day with no sign of tiring, while all the other competitors had given up after mere minutes. All the subsequent contests saw similar outcomes, and by the end of day 8, Vulkan and the stranger were tied in the overall tournament. To break the tie, the elders of Nocturne decided that the winner would be determined by the test of Salamander Hunting. Both contestants were given 24 hours to forge a weapon, before using that weapon to hunt down and slay one of Nocturne's reptilian salamanders. Assessing that this task, impossible for any others, would be a formality for both godlike contestants, the elders included the caveat that the contestant who brought back the largest salamander would be proclaimed victorious.

The Final Trial

In the end, it came down to the final trial: Salamander-Slaying. Both men had a day and a half to forge a weapon, then go out and slay the largest salamander (a large, heat-loving reptile native to Nocturne), that they could find. Vulkan and the stranger worked all day at their forges, neither pausing to rest. As the day drew to a close, they emerged. Vulkan had forged a huge warhammer, and the stranger a keen-edged sword. They both climbed to the summit of Mount Deathfire, a massive volcano said to be the home of the largest Firedrakes, the most fearsome species of salamander, on the planet. Vulkan found his prey first, smashing its head off with a single blow from his hammer. As he carried the carcass back, the volcano unexpectedly erupted. Vulkan was nearly thrown off a cliff, but managed to grab onto the edge with one hand, stubbornly grasping the tail of his prize with the other. Vulkan held on for several hours, but his hold finally began to slip. It was at that time the stranger reappeared, carrying a salamander larger than his own. The stranger quickly threw his carcass into the lava flow, using its heat-resistant hide as a bridge to cross over and save Vulkan. Vulkan was declared the winner when they returned home since he had a salamander hide and the stranger had lost his, but Vulkan silenced the crowd. He knelt before the stranger, stating that any man who valued life over pride was worthy of his service. At that moment the stranger at last revealed himself to the Primarch His true nature as the Emperor of Mankind. Vulkan would take his rightful place as Primarch of the XVIIIth Legion and ruler of his adopted world. Vulkan's only reservation on departing Nocturne was that he would not leave its people undefended, but in this the Emperor countered that Vulkan's duty was not simply to one world but to many, worlds that knew the terror of the darkness and the feasting of alien horrors uncounted as Nocturne had, and that Nocturne itself as the home world of a Primarch would forever be secured by his sons, the XVIIIth Legion which bore his blood.

A Legion Reforged

It is believed that Vulkan did not become unified with his own Legion for some years after his rediscovery, but instead stayed alongside the Emperor under His direct tutelage, during which time his presence was kept from the wider Imperium (although not from the other Primarchs who had been discovered to that time). During this period, Vulkan pursued with frightening speed and comprehension learning in the arts of war, history and science, displaying a ferocious intelligence, and also wisdom and compassion that were perhaps at odds with the role he had been destined to play as a general and breaker of worlds as all Primarchs were made to be. He fought at the side of the Emperor in battle -- a colossal, nameless warrior in emerald armour scaled like a dragon of ancient Terran myth -- and studied closely in the weapon-forges of Mars and with his brother-Primarch Ferrus Manus, whose discovery had gone before his own. When the time came, as much dictated by circumstance as by choice, for Vulkan to take charge of the XVIIIth Legion he did so well-prepared for the task ahead, and set about reforging them on the anvil of war.

When Vulkan came to his Legion, it was in the hour of their need. The XVIIIth, led by their Lord Commander Cassian Vaughn, had become embroiled in the rear-guard defense of a cluster of colony worlds near the Taras Division against a wave of Ork marauders. With the bulk of the Legiones Astartes either engaged with the Expedition Fleets breaching space towards the Eastern Fringe or committed as reserves against the horrors of the Rangda Incursion from the Halo Stars to the Galactic North, the XVIIIth was the only Space Marine Legion able to respond to the crisis. Fighting against vast and overwhelming odds, the Legion's primary force, numbering some 19,000 Space Marines, had marshaled the local defenders and held out for nearly a standard year in a series of running battles against well over a million Ork raiders scattered across hundreds of ramshackle ships, "Rok" asteroid vessels and dozens of Space Hulks. The actions of the Legion had allowed the evacuations of three entire planetary populations to the nominal safety of the Taras System, but at a terrible cost. As the conflict progressed, they suffered the grievous wounding of their commander, while the remainder of the XVIIIth became all but trapped on the Dead World of Antaem -- a lightning-rod drawing the Orks to them for battle. Taras was far from the embattled frontier of the expanding Great Crusade, and assistance from other Legions would have been difficult to obtain, but regardless such aid was not asked for by the XVIIIth, who had determined to succeed alone or die in the attempt, knowing that by bleeding the Ork marauder fleet of its strength, countless human lives would be saved. Their Primarch, however, learning of their plight, refused to stand by his plans to join them to rapid fruition.

When Vulkan arrived he did not do so alone, for he brought with him 3,000 new Initiates -- the first of the Legion to be raised from Nocturne -- along with a host of new warships, war machines and arms, all fabricated to the Primarch's own exacting specifications. They fell upon the Ork marauders like a thunderbolt, and shattered the largest of the Space Hulks orbiting Antaem, Vulkan leading his warriors within, purging the vast conglomeration of wreckage and rock with fire and planting seismic charges at its heart to destroy it. Spurred on by this unexpected aid, the rest of the XVIIIth hurled themselves in renewed fury at the Orks besieging them, slaughtering and scattering the green-skinned xenos before them, heedless of their depleted munitions and manpower, leaving nothing for a reserve should they fail. Caught between this hammer and anvil of savagery that over-matched their own, the Ork horde was broken and put to flight, and the survivors were relentlessly pursued and consumed by fire.

In the aftermath, the two halves of the XVIIIth Legion met and were unified upon Antaem's dead coral plains. As their saviors removed their helms and the Terran Legionaries looked upon the faces of their brothers and he that was their gene-father, they could not help but know that they were one and their Primarch had come to claim them. The survivors of the Terran XVIIIth knelt immediately, it is said, before their Primarch, but Vulkan bid them rise, saying that all his sons were equals and he was no petty king needing shows of obedience. Instead, it was he who knelt in honour of the lives they had saved and the price they had paid. Then, seeking out the mortally wounded Lord Commander Vaughn, he conferred the formal transfer of the Legion's mastery by presenting the fallen warrior with the broken Power Klaw of the Ork Warlord who had struck him down to seal the pact between him and his Legion -- they would fight for him, but he would fight for them in turn.

After the battle at Antaem, Vulkan set about remaking and re-forging his Legion, keen to keep the honour, the spirit of self-sacrifice for the Imperium and bravery he found, but also determined that it should stand together and become more disciplined both in its temper and wiser in its pursuit of battle. Firstly, Vulkan was swift to gather together its disparate deployments and unify it once again as a whole, although he was careful to honour the past commitments it had made, such as the maintenance of a permanent garrison at Geryon Deep who stood guard should the Manticore ever return.

With his forces brought together, Vulkan returned the XVIIIth Legion to Nocturne to where, under his auspices, a powerful stronghold, equal to any Legion fortress in the Imperium, was being constructed on Nocturne's moon of Prometheus to serve as its headquarters and armoury, just as Nocturne itself would now be the source of the majority of the Legion's fresh recruits. Here the Legion was reordered and re-armed and, most importantly, Vulkan set above giving it common purpose and common belief. In order to do this, he drew not only on that which he had learned at the side of his Emperor and from the Imperial war machine, but also on the culture and deeply-ingrained warrior and mystical traditions of Nocturne in which Vulkan had been raised. In this Vulkan was wise enough to retain and value the experience of the Terran veterans, and show them respect and hold in high esteem what they had accomplished in many ways, great and small. This was given outward sign by incorporating the XVIIIth Legion's past heraldry into that of the reformed Legion and making their foremost warriors, his Pyre Guard, praetorians; the elite body of Chapter Masters that would serve both as his Honour Guard and as paragons of the standards he would set his Legion. For the fallen first Master of the XVIIIth, Cassian Vaughn, Vulkan fashioned with his own hands a unique Dreadnought sarcophagus, the Iron Dragon, so that Vaughn could serve as Castellan and Protector of Prometheus, and the future of the Legion.

The remade XVIIIth Legion would now take its name from the greatest of Nocturne's saurian predators; ancient and deadly creatures whose blood was fire and whose hides were as hard as emerald steel; the Salamanders of Nocturne. In this Vulkan's choice carried a layered meaning, for not only were Nocturnean Salamanders monsters of savage power with a great totemic significance to the native people, but as creatures they showed unflinching loyalty to their own blood and offspring, and were never more ferocious than in their defense. It was from the bleached-white skull of one such great beast -- Kasare -- that adorned the shoulder-guard of their Primarch's armour, the Legion would now take its new emblem. When the Salamanders Legion re-emerged and departed Nocturne in full force some years later, it quickly took up a place at the forefront of the Great Crusade, smashing alien empires and bringing lost worlds into compliance as part of the Imperium. Although it would never reach the high numbers of Legionary strength the likes of the Dark Angels or Iron Warriors possessed, its power and battle-prowess was undeniable, and its conduct in war was regarded as exemplary. It had been tempered and proven, retaining the fearlessness and savage spirit for which Vulkan had been renowned, but those traits were now governed and kept in check by stoicism, lack of hubris, and considered surety of action. Vulkan had brought his Legion focus, purpose and wisdom. It was now said of the Salamanders that they were neither quick to anger, nor prone to rush in blindly to battle as once they had been, but once they had decided to unleash their wrath, it was as unstoppable and terrifying as the volcanic fury of the dark world they now called home.

Vulkan was able to save his genetic legacy because in them, he saw a great potential. The Emperor knew Vulkan was the perfect son to temper the XVIIIth Legion and forge it strong again. Learning discipline and patience, the Salamanders learned there is no better time to reflect than when they struck their Oaths of Moment and branded them into flesh before battle. Temperance in the face of war was not only prudent, it also saved lives.

The Great Crusade

During the Great Crusade the Salamanders were attached to the 154th Expeditionary Fleet, their forces complemented by Imperial Army regiments drawn from the planet Phaeria, a Death World. They successfully brought hundreds of human-settled worlds into Imperial Compliance. One of the few notable campaigns undertaken by the Salamanders Legion during the Great Crusade was the Imperial Compliance action undertaken on the world of Caldera. Designated 154-4, known as Ibsen by its inhabitants, the Salamanders were tasked with bringing this newly discovered world into Compliance. Led by Vulkan himself, the XVIIIth Legion was joined by the Iron Hands and the Death Guard Legions, both led by their own respective Primarchs. The world was undeveloped, and largely inhospitable to human life, but possessed valuable mineral deposits. However, the Imperial forces faced stiff resistance for control of the planet from the Eldar, who had placed a garrison upon Ibsen.

The Eldar forces -- including Seers, Warlocks and other combat psykers -- could not have expected to defeat one Legion of Astartes, let alone three. The mystery deepened when the semi-feral, primitive human tribes inhabiting the planet seemed more sympathetic to the Eldar, or at the very least, not welcoming to their human liberators. The Salamanders and other Imperials defeated the Eldar relatively easily as expected. After the conquest, the Salamanders learned that the Eldar had been defending a network of menhirs which served as psychic nodes and that fed into a giant arch, where the final and most brutal confrontation between the Astartes and the xenos had taken place. The arch itself had been located thanks to a mysterious Remembrancer attached to the Salamanders, with whom Vulkan had had an unsettling conversation before the battle.

After the slaughter ended, Vulkan saw the Remembrancer loitering by the arch and then suddenly disappearing. Following him, Vulkan and his elite Pyre Guard descended into the chambers beneath it, through a portal at its base. There they found a crude warding ceremony taking place, conducted by the primitive human tribal priests, who were ready to sacrifice an ancient Dark Eldar witch. Finally, Vulkan realized the truth: the arch was in reality, a Webway portal (though none of the Imperials, including Vulkan, knew this at the time); Vulkan had seen a "gate" like this before, in his Nocturnean youth, when Dark Eldar repeatedly utilized such a portal to raid and pillage the planet.

The Eldar had taken control of the portal by defeating their dark cousins, and in the process had freed the indigenous human population of Ibsen from the horrors of Dark Eldar raids; the Eldar had been seen by the humans as liberators. Terrified by the defeat of their liberators at the hands of the Imperium, the natives had sought to sacrifice their Dark Eldar captive to ward off the inevitable return of her race; the mysterious "Remembrancer" who was nowhere to be seen had actually been the Emperor in disguise, who must have had a great interest in the particulars of this mission since he had ordered so many resources committed to it. Vulkan ordered Ibsen and its irredeemably corrupted population cleansed by flame. He renamed the scoured, Nocturne-like Dead World that remained Caldera. The world was now ready to receive new human colonists and to be exploited for the benefit of the Imperium.

Not long after the successful conclusion of this campaign, Vulkan and his Salamanders Legion participated in another joint Imperial Compliance action on the world known as Kharaatan. Designated 154-6, the Salamanders fought alongside the Primarch Konrad Curze and his Night Lords Legion as well as Mechanicum forces, the Legio Ignis Titan Legion, and several Imperial Army regiments. During this campaign Vulkan became infuriated with his brother Primarch and how his Legion brutally conducted themselves. During one notable incident, the Night Lords slaughtered the inhabitants of an entire city in order to seed fear amongst the general population. When he confronted Curze about his Legion's actions, a brief fight ensued between the two demi-gods. After the successful conclusion of this campaign, Vulkan reported Curze's conduct to both Warmaster Horus and his brother Primarch Rogal Dorn of the Imperial Fists Legion. This incident would later sow the seeds of animosity between Vulkan and his brother Curze, causing a rift that would further widen as the Great Crusade wore on. The events on Kharaatan would have far-reaching affects that wold later play a key role in what happened to Vulkan after the tragic events of Istvaan V played out.

Drop Site Massacre

The Salamanders' role during the Horus Heresy is not well known to Imperial scholars; what is for certain is that the XVIIIth Legion, along with the Iron Hands and the Raven Guard, were part of the first wave of Loyalist attackers during the Drop Site Massacre of Istvaan V. After the announcement of the Warmaster Horus' treachery against the Emperor and the destruction of the four open Traitor Legions' (the Sons of Horus, Emperor's Children, Death Guard and the World Eaters) remaining Loyalists during the Battle of Istvaan III, the Emperor ordered seven full Legions of Space Marines to attack the Forces of Chaos serving his beloved son and former friend. But amongst those seven Legions, four were already secretly Traitors to the Imperium and devotees of the Ruinous Powers.

Seconds after the first drop-ship pierced the cloud layer, batteries of emplaced guns erupted across meters of earthworks dug along the Urgall Depression. Flak fire filled the sky like upwards-pouring rain, chewing through wing and fuselage, detonating arrow-headed cocoons of metal and spilling their lethal payloads into the air. It barely dented the assault, and when the Imperial loyalists finally made planetfall, over forty thousand legionaries tramped out upon the scorched earth. Of their initial complement, only fifteen of the Salamanders' ships and eleven Drop Pods would not make the surface intact. Nigh-on full Legion strength would be leveled against Horus and his rebels. The Salamanders hit along the left flank, the Raven Guard the right and Ferrus Manus with his Morlocks dead center.

Black sand cratered by ordnance made for uncertain footing. As the vast armies of the three loyal Primarchs ran from the holds of ships or emerged through the dissipating pressure cloud of blooming drop-pods, several legionaries faltered and slipped. Sustained bolter fire met them upon planetfall, and hundreds amongst the first landers were cut down before any kind of beachhead could be established. Fire was met with fire, the drumming staccato of thousands of weapons discharged in unison, their muzzle flashes merging into a vast and unending roar of flame. Dense spreads of missiles whined overhead to accompany the salvo, streaking white contrails from their rockets. Sections of earthworks erupted in bright explosions that threw plumes of dirt and armoured men into the air. Las bursts lit up the swiftly following darkness, spearing through tanks and Dreadnoughts that loomed behind the foremost ranks of enemy defenders, only for return fire to spit back in reply. Flamers choked the air with smoke and the stink of burning flesh, as yet more esoteric weapons pulsed and shrieked. It was a cacophony of death, but the song had barely begun its first verse.

The right flank was swollen with warriors of the XVIIIth. Salamanders teemed out of their transports, quickly coming into formation and advancing with purpose. The black sand underfoot was eclipsed from sight, as a green sea overwhelmed and overran it. Vexilliaries held aloft banners, attempting to impose some order on the emerging battalions. Methodical, dogged, the XVIIIth Legion found its shape and swarmed across the dark dunes. At the forefront of this avenging wave was Vulkan, and to his flanks the Firedrakes. Lumbering from the metal spearheads of Drop Pods, the Terminators amassed in two large battalions. They were dauntless, dominant, but not the most implacable warriors in the Salamanders' arsenal. Contemptors, striding through the smoke, laid claim to that honour. Great, towering war engines, the Dreadnoughts jerked with the savage recoil of Graviton Guns and Autocannons. Not stopping to see the carnage wreaked, they slowly tramped after the rushing companies of Legionaries in small cohorts, attack horns blaring. The discordant noise simulated the war cries of the deep drakes and was pumped through vox-emitters to boost its volume. Disgorged by Thunderhawk Transporters, Spartan Assault Tanks, Predators-Infernus and Vindicators disembarked at combat speed, tracks rolling. The battle tanks rode at the back of the line with a steep ridge behind them, anchoring the dropsite with their armoured might. Three spearheads were driven at the traitor's heart, two black and one green, all determined to bring down the fortress squatting at the summit of the Urgall Hills that overlooked the expansive depression. In seconds the shifting sand became as glass, vitrified by the heat of tens of thousands of weapons, and cracked underfoot.

Vulkan ordered his sons to take the ridge line to gain higher ground. Shells pranging off his armour, the primarch took up the vanguard position, whilst his chasing Pyre Guard tried to keep pace. Behind the Pyre Guard, the stoic advance of the Pyroclasts struggled to keep up as they laid down sheets of burning promethium in front and to the flanks. The Terminator-armoured Firedrakes were also slipping back, unable to compete with the Primarch's speed, and Numeon began to see that there was a realistic danger of becoming estranged from the rest of the Legion. Adding their strength to the spearhead the Primarch was forging, the 15th Company Reconnaissance took up fresh position. Their charge line would take them in alongside the Pyre Guard, able to maintain pace where the bulkier Firedrakes and Pyroclasts could not.

As if sensing that his Legion was losing him, Vulkan slowed but a fraction as the fire-blackened lip of the outermost trench drew close. Hunkered within the partially sundered defenses, the Legionaries of the Death Guard brought guns to bear. The XIV Legion were hardy fighters -- the Salamanders had fought alongside them at Ibsen, but those days were gone and now allies had turned into enemies. The flame storm and the ferocity of Vulkan's attack had scattered the defenders but they were rallying quickly and now counter-attacked from three separate channels. Although the trench network was wide enough for three legionaries to stand abreast, the fighting was thick and fierce. Wilting before his charge, the defenders sensibly chose to hang back and harry the Primarch with a welter of bolter fire. Meeting it head on, the primarch shrugged off the shell damage as the brass casings broke apart against his near-inviolable armour.

Across the entire Urgall Depression, hundreds of battles between Legionaries were fought. Some were company-strong, others were squads or even individuals. There was no scheme to it, just masses of warriors trying to kill one another. Most of the Loyalist troops had moved on from the dropsite and were engaging Horus’ rebels at the foot of his fortifications, but a few still occupied this beachhead. Scattered groups of traitors had spilled out as far as the dropsite but were quickly destroyed by the troops holding it. These were skirmishes, though, and nothing compared to the greater battle. As the 15th Company pressed the attack against the retreating Death Guard forces, a dirty cloud, too thick and too low to be fog, rolled down the slopes. It spilled into the myriad trench-works, funneled by the conduits of hewn earth. And it was fast. In seconds it had cleared the no-man’s-land between the previous trench and the next bank of fortifications and was hurtling at Nemetor and his warriors. It overtook the Death Guard first, who adjusted respirators before the miasma hit as if they knew it was coming. It was a deadly gas attack.

The Legion armoury was vast, and not all of its weapons were as obvious as a Bolter or as noble as a sword. There were those who wielded devices of much more insidious potency -- the slow and agonizing ones, the weapons that forever scarred both the bearer and the victim. They did not discriminate and made no allowance for even the strongest armour. From the vaunted champion to the lowliest mortal, they were the great levelers and their works were terrible to behold. More than a hundred of the reconnaissance company collapsed, choking and spitting blood. Many of the 15th didn't wear battle-helms, preferring to be unencumbered for the stealth work at which they excelled. These warriors had suffered the worst. Skin sloughed away by virulent acids, ravaged by pustules and choking on vomit, eyes drowning in pus from the dirty bomb, there was almost nothing left of them but half-armoured carcasses. Dozens more were hacked apart or shot down by resurgent Death Guard attacking in the confusion.

The numerically superior Death Guard had already overrun the smaller reconnaissance company and were attempting to encircle the rest of the Salamanders. Vulkan single-handedly prevented that, hitting the overlapping warriors and cutting them apart with his flaming sword. First Captain Numeon and the Pyre Guard joined him fractionally later and a dense, chaotic melee erupted. As battle continued to rage all around them, the din of the melee was pierced by savage and guttural war cries. A ruddy smog was sweeping across the battlefield, fashioned from blood-drenched mist and the smoke generated by thousands of fires. Caught in a crosswind, it slashed in from the east and brought with it the brutal challenge of a Legion that reveled in war. It was the XIIth Legion -- the World Eaters.

Ash-fall from the many thousands of fires turned the sky grey. It baptised a cohort of warriors, clad to various degrees in ancient gladiatorial trappings and wielding ritual caedere weapons. They were the Rampagers, a deadly breed even amongst the Eaters of Worlds, and a throwback to Angron's incarceration as a slave-fighter. Bellowing guttural war cries, they charged ahead of a Contemptor Dreadnought to engage the Salamanders. Emerald-armoured Astartes balked at what the battle-maddened World Eaters attempted. Though there was no more than thirty men - just three squads - they charged over a hundred. Several went down to sporadic bolter fire. Some were clipped by shrapnel but kept on coming. Only those too injured to fight, unable to run because of missing limbs or critical wounds were halted. Something urgent and terrible spurred them on. Even when they were the War Hounds, their reputation in battle, particularly close-quarters, was fearsome. As the reborn World Eaters under Angron, they had become something else. Rumours abounded within the ranks, of arcane devices that manipulated the legionaries' tempers, simulacra of the ones embedded in Angron's skull by his slavers. Now that the Salamanders saw them, ignoring pain and injury, frothing with frenzy, they believed those stories to be true.

As the Salamanders and World Eaters fought in bloody close-quarters, elsewhere on the slope, a much larger force of Firedrakes fought Angron's personal body guard, the Devourers, to a bloody stalemate. For once, the Lord of the Red Sands was close to his Honour Guard. Angron bellowed a challenge to his brother Primarch. Vulkan's name was heard amongst the guttural syllables of the World Eater's native tongue. Anointed in blood, partially obscured by scudding clouds of smoke and shimmering heat haze, Angron continued to bellow his challenge, this time in High Gothic, "Vulkan!" His voice was the like fall of cities, rumbling and booming across the vast battlefield. Angron jabbed down to his brother with one of the motorised Power Axes he carried. Its blade was burring, roaring for blood. "I name you high rider!"

Farther down the slope, Vulkan gripped the haft of his immense warhammer Dawnbringer and went to meet his brother's challenge. But before the two Primarchs could come to blows, an arcing salvo from one of the traitor gun emplacements spear-headed a missile up into the air and all the way down until it struck part of the slope between the two Primarchs. A firestorm lit the hillside, several tonnes of incendiary ordnance expressed in the expansive bloom of conflagration. It swept outwards in a turbulent wave, bathing the lower part of the slope in heat and flame. This was nothing compared to its epicenter. Firedrakes were immolated in that blast, blown apart and burned to ash in their Terminator Armour. Though Vulkan was wreathed in flames, he stepped from the blaze unharmed. The remaining Firedrakes gathered to him, tramping over the dead where they had to. Mauled as they had been by the World Eaters, Vulkan knew that his warriors had suffered but would not stop until they were dead or the battle was over. But it was grievously attritional, and he was not ashamed to admit relief when he heard that the reinforcements coming in to make planetfall behind them. Hundreds of landers and drop-pods choked the already suffocating sky, emblazoned with the iconography of the Alpha Legion, Iron Warriors, Word Bearers and Night Lords. The Primarch merely watched impassively as the manifold shuttles touched down and the loyalists took up position on the edge of the depression. Of Angron, there was no sign. The firestorm had beaten him back, it seemed, and now with the arrival of four more Legions, the Lord of the Red Sands had ordered a retreat.

Both the Raven Guard and the Salamanders withdrew towards their drop site to give their recently arrived reinforcements a chance to earn glory against the Traitors. Vulkan and his brother Corax tried to persuade their fiery-tempered brother Ferrus Manus to do the same. But the Gorgon would not be dissuaded from his task. The scent of blood was in the air, and so, the Iron Hands pressed the attack against the retreating Traitor forces. Unknown to the Loyalists, the drop site had been fortified by the four secret Traitor Legions, who had been intended to form the second wave of the Imperial assault on Horus' forces. While the retreat of Horus' rebels was ragged and disorganized, the warriors of the XVIIIth and XIXth Legions fell back in good order. Tanks returned to column, rumbling slowly but steadily back down the slope. The scorched trenches emptied as legionaries filed out in vast hosts, company banners still flying. They were battered but resolute. The dead and injured came with them, dragged or borne aloft by their still standing brothers. It was a great exodus, the black and green ocean of war retreating with the tide to leave the flotsam of their slain enemy behind it.

On the northern side of the Urgall Depression, a fresh sea made ready to sweep in and carry all of the mortal debris away. Across from the muster field of the Salamanders, which was little more than a laager of drop-ships, were the Iron Warriors. Armoured in steel-grey with black-and-yellow chevrons, the IVth Legion looked stark and stern. They had erected a barricade, the armoured bastions of their own landing craft alloyed together, to bolster the northern face of the slope. Great cannons were raised aloft behind it, their snouts pointing to the ash-smothered sky. A line of battle tanks sat in front, bearing the grim icon of a metal-helmeted skull. And in front of that, Iron Warriors arrayed in their cohorts, thousands strong. They held their silence and their weapons across their bodies, with no more life than automatons. Not a single Legionary about the XVIIIth stood idle. Yet the Iron Warriors, the entire muster on the northern slope, neither spoke nor moved beyond what was necessary to assemble.

Not one responded to the Salamanders' hails. Only the wind kicking at their banners gave any sense of animus to the IVth Legion throng. Only when Vulkan started in the direction of his brother, Perturabo, the Lord of Iron returned the Lord of Drakes' gimlet gaze with one of his own. It was only at that moment, did Vulkan realize that they had been betrayed. More than ten thousand guns answered, the weapons of their allies turned on the Salamanders with traitorous intent, crushing the Loyalists between the hammer of Horus' forces and the anvil of the fortified drop site. Wrath drove Vulkan up the side of the hill, that and a sense of injustice. The ignoble actions of his brother primarchs had wounded Vulkan to the core, far deeper and more debilitating than any blade. Vaunted warriors all, the Pyre Guard could scarcely keep up.

Battle companies followed in the wake of their lords, captains roaring the attack as thousands of green-armoured warriors chased up the slope to kill the sons of Perturabo. Withering crossfire from both the north and south faces of the Urgall Depression cut down hundreds in the first few seconds of deceit. The XVIIIthLegion were shedding warriors like a snake sheds scales. But still they drove on, determined not to back down. Tenacity was a Salamander’s greatest virtue -- that refusal to give in. Upon the plains of Isstvan V, against all of those guns, this quality almost ended the XVIIIth Legion. Only as the majority of the Salamanders crested the first ridge, did they first see the arc of fire. It trailed, long and blazing, into the darkling sky. The tongue of flame climbed and upon reaching the apex of its parabola bent back on itself into the shape of a horseshoe. Rockets screaming, it came down in the midst of the charging Salamanders and broke them apart.

A savage crater was gored into the Urgall hills, like the bite of some gargantuan beast resurrected from old myth and birthed in nucleonic fire. It threw warriors skywards as if they were no more than empty suits of armour, bereft of bone and flesh. As a bell jar shatters when dropped onto rockcrete from a great height, so too did the Legion smash apart. Tanks following after their lord Primarch were flung barrel-rolling across the black sand with their hulls on fire. Those vehicles in the mouth of the blast were simply ripped apart; tracks and hatches, chunks of abused metal torn to exploded shrapnel. Legionaries spared death in the initial blast were eviscerated in the frag storm. Super-heavies crumpled like tin boxes crushed by a hammer. Crewmen boiled alive, legionaries cooked down to ash in that furnace. It went deep, right into the beating heart of the Salamanders ranks. Only by virtue of the fact that they were so far ahead were the Pyre Guard spared the worst.

With immense kinetic fury, it threw them apart and smothered their armoured forms in a firestorm. An electro-magnetic pulse wiped out the Vox, a threnody of static reigning in place of certain contact. Tactical organisation became untenable. In a single devastating strike, the Lord of Iron had crippled the XVIIIth Legion, severed its head and sent its body into convulsive spasm. Retreat was the only viable strategy remaining. Droves fell back to the dropsite, trying to climb aboard ships that were surging desperately into the sky to outreach the terrible storm of betrayal below. It was not a rout, though for any force other than the Legiones Astartes it would have been, faced with such violence. Many were cut down as the traitors threaded the air with enough flak to wither an armada.

Despite a heroic defense, the three Loyalist Legions who took part in the battle on Istvaan V were practically destroyed; all but a handful of Battle-Brothers fell on that fateful day and the Primarch Ferrus Manus of the Iron Hands was beheaded by his former best friend and brother, Fulgrim, the Primarch of the Emperor's Children. After this sad defeat, the Salamanders, as well as the other two betrayed Space Marine Legions, were unable to perform any further tasks the Emperor had planned for them and spent the rest of the Heresy rebuilding their shattered forces. Both Vulkan and his brother Corvus Corax survived the ambush on Istvaan V. Conflicting reports by the few survivors stated that Vulkan, also gravely wounded, had to be dragged away from the fight onto a Thunderhawk gunship by three of his Pyre Guard and then managed to escape back to Nocturne. But the reality of the Salamanders' Primarch's fate proved to be far more dire.

Vulkan's Imprisonment

Vulkan had survived the nuclear fire of the Iron Warriors' orbital strike, where so many of his sons did not. Finding himself surrounded by hundreds of Traitor Legionaries from both the Night Lords and the Iron Warriors, Vulkan resigned himself to his fate. Fighting valiantly, the Primarch fought to the death, but was eventually overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the enemy and was shot, stabbed and bludgeoned into unconsciousness. The Night Haunter, now inherently insane, saw the opportunity to torment his fallen brother and took the unconscious Vulkan as his prisoner. When the Salamanders' Primarch finally awoke, he found himself fettered in massive chains aboard a gaol-hulk belonging to the VIIIth Legion. Over the span of several months, the Night Haunter took sadistic pleasure in attempting to break both Vulkan's body and mind, or kill him outright. But the task proved impossible, as every time Curze thought he had succeeded in killing his brother, Vulkan's body would miraculously regenerate to its former healthy state. Vulkan had been revealed to be a "Perpetual", a being who was capable of continuous cellular regeneration and therefore was effectively immortal, much like their father, the Emperor of Mankind. Enraged, Curze took it upon himself to kill Vulkan as many times as was necessary to permanently rid himself of his intolerable presence. The Night Haunter personally beheaded the Salamanders' Primarch, ripped out his throat with a piece of cutlery, stabbed him through the chest and virtually tore him limb from limb with his own wicked claws. When these attempts failed to kill Vulkan, Curze had him eviscerated, shot at close-range by hundreds of Bolters, put into a ventilation shaft of a starship's engine and even stripped naked and thrown out of an airlock into the airless void of space. But the Night Haunter's efforts proved all for naught.

Each time the Night Haunter thought he had successfully murdered his brother Primarch, Vulkan's body would continue to regenerate back to its former vigorous state, further enraging the Night Lords' Primarch. With his unnatural abilities to regenerate revealed to him, Curze attempted to make Vulkan admit that he was no less a monster than himself. Vulkan was placed through unwinnable trials to break his spirit: having to pull against chains to prevent a ceiling in another cell from crushing it's innocent occupants. Being starved at a banquet table, with mortal prisoners alongside him, watching the food decay and the prisoners whither away. Being trapped in a battle-plate and being unable to control his limbs, and forced to hunt captured soldiers and other captured Loyalist Astartes. To further torment his brother, the Night Haunter had Davinite sorcerer-priests use the fell powers gifted to them by the Ruinous Powers to ensnare Vulkan's mind and make him fight his brother Corax after a fictional rescue attempt. But even this form of sorcerous torture failed to break the resolute Vulkan. Fed up with his insufferable prisoner, and slaughtering the sorcerer-priests, the Night Haunter devised a final solution to his problem of ridding himself of the Salamander's presence. Vulkan's fate would be decided in a duel to the death.

He offered his brother a means of escape and achieving that which he had sought for so long -- his freedom. All he had to do was navigate a labyrinth, where, at the center of it, lay his personal warhammer, Dawnbringer. But this was no ordinary maze. At the request of Night Haunter, the Iron Warriors' Primarch Perturabo had crafted him a singular prison, unlike any other, in imitation of his own private sanctorum known as the Cavea Ferrum. This special prison was an elaborate labyrinth, whose featureless walls and strange geometric design made it all but impossible to map and therefore escape. Anyone who attempted to mentally map the labyrinth would be hopelessly knotted in turns that should have been physically impossible. Even after trying scores of times to map the labyrinth, an individual would only manage more than a handful of turns within its twisting corridors before it all stopped making sense. In addition Curze performed ambush attacks, wounding Vulkan without killing him, repeatedly. At the edge of his willpower, Vulkan had a vision of the Emperor in the visage of a Remembrancer, named Verace. The Emperor reminded his son that he would watch over all his sons when he could, and calmed Vulkan's mind, instilling within him, fresh resolve. Thus, Vulkan goaded Curze, yelling out into the cavernous labyrinth of how all the Primarchs pitied him and how he was just a child raging in the dark. Curze then opened up a path in the labyrinth to the center, where Dawnbringer rested under an energy shield.

There he met the Night Haunter, and they engaged in melee combat. Though armed with a blade, Curze gave into Vulkan's taunts of his physical weakness, and attempted to engage Vulkan with his fists alone. Vulkan easily grabbed Curze and, swinging him like a hammer, broke the energy shield. With his weapon in hand, he managed to overpower his gaoler, and activate the secret personal teleporter built into the head of the finely wrought warhammer. Vulkan immediately transported halfway across the galaxy, and reappeared in the upper atmosphere of the Ultramarines Legion's homeworld of Macragge. As he fell from an impossible height, his body was burned to a crisp upon reentry. But before his mind faded into blackness, Vulkan was content that he would soon find himself whole once again, and in the care of his Ultramarine cousins. His violent orbital entry crippled his mind, due to the immense pain, making him mentally unstable.

Later on, the Night Haunter, who was trapped aboard the Dark Angels flagship following a failed boarding action during the conclusion of the Thramas Crusade, would eventually make his way to the surface of Macragge, wanting to finish what he started, and finally kill Vulkan. The ensuing battle would draw in both his Primarch brothers Roboute Guilliman and Lion El'Jonson, and a Perpetual by the name of John Grammaticus. In the aftermath, the Night Haunter would be defeated, but Vulkan was apparently "slain" by Grammaticus by the command of the mysterious organization known as the Cabal. Vulkan was stabbed in the heart by Grammaticus with a piece of Fulgurite, a large natural hollow glass tube formed beneath the surface of a planet during a lightning strike -- the result of the Emperor unleashing his infinite psychic power against the Forces of Chaos millennia ago. Vulkan's fate following the battle, at that time, was unknown.

Rebirth

As Macragge became the new home of Imperium Secundus, the second stellar empire of Humanity created by the Ultramarines Primarch Roboute, more and more survivors of the XVIIIth Legion made their way to the Ultramarines' home world. Convinced of their Primarch's death, the Salamanders mourned their genetic-sire's loss. The Ultramarines had entombed Vulkan in a heavily decorated casket of pure gold -- a fitting resting place for one of the Emperor's son, or so one would think. To the Salamanders standing vigil over Vulkan's body the cold mortuary chamber in which he now rested was a far cry from the burial rituals of the Promethean Cult. For all intent and purposes the Salamanders were a broken legion, the death of their Primarch having broken their indomitable spirit. Matters however soon changed when First Captain Artellus Numeon was successfully saved by an Ultramarine strikeforce. Many were those amongst the survivors that hoped that the return of their First Captain would give a new sense of purpose to what remained of the Legion - given them purpose and direction once again. Numeon firmly believed in his Primarch's survival, having constantly espoused the phrase, "Vulkan lives!" This became Numeon's battlecry and the cornerstone of his beliefs. Yet when Numeon asked to be taken to his Primarch, he only found an empty casket -- Vulkan's body having mysteriously vanished from his "final" resting place -- which planted the seed of doubt amongst Numeon's fellow Astartes, officers and Primarchs as to Vulkan's true condition.

After several city-wide search-actions had returned empty-handed, Numeon himself, found the missing Primarch's body resting in a statuary garden. None could explain how the body had been overlooked or how it had gotten there, but Rouboute Guilliman soon assumed the reason to be a malfunction of the teleportation device inside of Vulkan's warhammer, Dawnbringer, which the Primarch had been entombed with. For many of the Salmanders however, this first miracle only confirmed Numeon's faith and beliefs. Coming together, the sixty-seven surviving Salamanders formed a new brotherhood --the Pyre -- and declared their intent. They would attempt to break through the Ruinstorm to return Vulkan to Nocturne, either to be properly laid to rest or resurrected. This was the fate they had chosen for themselves and nothing -- not even Lord Guilliman's refusal to let them leave -- would keep them from it. Fortunately for the Pyre, an XVIIIth Legion ship, the Battle-BargeCharybdis, was docked in Port Hera and undergoing final repairs. With the blessings of the Primarch Sanguinius, Emperor of Imperium Secundus, and with the tacit agreement of its Lord Protector, Lion El'Jonson, and -- at last -- that of Roboute Guilliman, Vulkan's casket was transferred aboard the Charybdis.

The Charybdis’ voyage to Nocturne made for a tale of epic proportions, for the Archenemy would not let the chance to retrieve the body of a Primarch so easily. Suffice it to say that through the Salamaners' heroism, obstinance and great sacrifices, did the Charybdis reach its destination, but it was not alone. Both the Death Guard and the Word Bearers had followed the valiant Battle Barge's course, intent on claiming the Primarch's body and the mighty weapon still lodged in his chest. In a last desperate gamble, the Charybdis sacrificed itself on the guns of its enemies to allow the twenty survivors of the Pyre, amongst them Artellus Numeon, to covertly evacuate Vulkan's casket in a Thunderhawk gunship to Nocturn's surface. This ruse de guerre was, however, only short-lived and the Thunderhawk was soon severely damaged, causing it to crash-landed along the Acerbian Plaine. Fortunately for Numeon and fellow survivors, Nocturne was not entirely defenceless, as Lord Chaplain Nomus Rhy'tan soon rushed to the small party's crash side. Retrieving the Primarch's body just in time to reach one of the Legion's new bastions, the Draconis Gate, the Salamanders defended their home world against the invading Death Guard forces and utterly annihilate them.

With the enemy defeated and Nocturne safe, the proper ceremony was conducted to remember Vulkan's passing. The Primarch, still wearing his artificer armour and clenching Dawnbringer in his hands, was carried into the fiery heart of Nocturne's sacred mountain, Mount Deathfire. The fulgurite spear was still jutting from his chest, as no one was able to remove it. In the presence of the remaining more than 700-strong honour guard -- all that remained of the Legion as far as any of the Salamanders knew -- Vulkan was lowered into the burning caldera of the volcano. No further miracle manifested itself. Vulkan had been given over to the earth and consigned to the flame and had not risen again.

To those that had witnessed the miracles around Artellus Numeon and shared the hardships of the Charybdis' voyage, deception came hardest, but even they recognized, after a few days, that the final ceremony to honor Vulkan had given them closure -- from the ashes of defeat, the XVIIIth Legion would rise again, as it had done before -- with another amongst them to lead the legion. Only one man did not believe so; Artellus Numeon, First Captain of the Legion, the former commander of the Pyre Guard, would not see his faith go unrewarded. Numeon was wracked by grief, yet his heart felt alight with faith; the First Captain resolved himself to one last sacrifice -- to trade his life in exchange for that of his Primarch's. Covertly escaping the bastion of the Draconis Gate, Numeon, stripped of armour, weapons and rank, used the dawning of the Time of Trials to mask his escape and stall any form of pursuit before he could reach Mount Deathfire. There he immolated himself in one of the mountain's fiery crevasses, unable to see his Primarch again or to know if his sacrifice had been successful: an act of pure faith. When Numeon's erstwhile companions could finally follow without endangering their companions, only three of them went to search for him -- Sergeant Barek Zytos, Blacksmiter Igen Gargo, and Legionary Abidemi. Mounting jetbikes, which were by far the swiftest way to travel the ash-plains, the trio encountered a solitary figure kneeling in the desert, obviously weak and disoriented. Rejoicing at having found their comrade and friend, the astonished trio fell to their knees in supplication, when they saw the figure turn around and rise unsteadily to his feet, a hand clutching an all-too-familiar spear tip still embedded in his chest; it was their Primarch. Vulkan lived...

Aftermath

The events immediately following the end of the great galactic civil war are even more obscure in current Imperial records and perhaps known only to the taciturn masters of the Salamanders' Librarius. What is clear, however, is that when the Ultramarines' Primarch Roboute Guilliman authored the Codex Astartes during the Reformation of the Imperium after the end of the Heresy and prepared the plan to safeguard the Imperium from another civil war by breaking down each Space Marine Legion into a single Chapter comprised of only 1,000 Space Marines, Vulkan stood alongside Leman Russ of the Space Wolves and Rogal Dorn of the Imperial Fists in opposition to the plan. However, like the others, Vulkan eventually acquiesced rather than put the unity of the Imperium at risk once more.

The XVIIIth Legion appears to have sired no immediate Successors, and it is likely that their numbers were so depleted by the events of the Istvaan V Drop Site Massacre that it was not possible to divide it into separate Chapters. Several Chapters were created much later in subsequent Foundings which might share the genetic inheritance of the Salamanders, but no evidence exists of any Second Founding Successor Chapters having been sired. The extent to which the dictates of the Codex Astartes were adhered to in the aftermath of the break-up of the old Legions varied greatly, and the Salamanders appeared to have obeyed it in some respects, while ignoring it in others. The fielding of only seven, over-strength companies is one example of this, though in other respects the present-day Salamanders Chapter is largely compliant with the dictates of Guilliman's tome.

The End Times

The ultimate fate of the Salamanders' Primarch is a matter of much conjecture, for he disappeared many years after the Horus Heresy. Some sources state that Vulkan led his Chapter for three entire millennia before he departed on some mission he never declared to the Imperium at large, though scant evidence of any of his deeds throughout that age remain. The tale is made all the more mysterious by the fact that Vulkan appeared to have left behind him a text, called the Tome of Fire, within which is locked the nature and location of nine artefacts the Primarch willed to his Chapter. It said that over one thousand standard years after the events of the Horus Heresy, Vulkan hid these nine artefacts around the galaxy for his Chapter to find, as a test to see if they were worthy of his leadership. Of these nine relics, five have been recovered, three of which, the Spear of Vulkan, Kesare's Mantle and the Gauntlet of the Forge, are wielded by the Chapter's Forgefather, Vulkan He'stan. Two, the Chalice of Fire and the Eye of Vulkan, remain on the Nocturnean moon of Prometheus in the Chapter's fortress-monastery, while the last four artefacts, the Engine of Woes, the Obsidian Chariot, the Unbound Flame and the Song of Entropy, have yet to be discovered. The Tome of Fire claims that only when all of these artefacts are recovered by the Forgefather of the Salamanders, as five now have been, will Vulkan judge the Salamanders sufficiently tempered to have passed the ultimate contest. Then, so the legend states, he shall return to lead the Salamanders in the final war against the enemies of Humanity in accordance with the prophecies written within the Chapter's most sacred tome.

Source: http://warhammer40k.wikia.com

#horus heresy #warhammer 40k #adepta sororitas #adeptus mechanicus #Adeptus custodes #adeptus astartes #adeptus arbites #Astra Militarum #Adeptus Astra Telepathica #officio assassinorum

[winchesterandpie]

Light in the Dark (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word count: 3034 (I may have gotten carried away… Oops)

Warnings: Fair amount of sadness sprinkled with angst, but fluffy end

A/N: Gif isn’t mine, and I give credit to Harry Potter POA movie for the last line. My friend gave me the idea when we were doing laundry in the dorm basement, so I apologize if the writing of it is total trash (I stayed up way to late to write this). I won’t drag this out too long, but thank you guys so much for the support on my other fics. I really really appreciate it!! Love you guys!

“Hold on, Y/N, I’ll be right there,” my brother’s voice crackled through the comms as I tried desperately to outmaneuver the 13 TIE fighters on my tail. WIth my weapons systems disabled, the only thing I could use to fight was my skill as a pilot. Unfortunately, this only worked well against a much smaller number of fighters.

“Don’t! There are too many of them, it’d be suicide.” I could barely breathe as I heard him offering his life up in exchange for mine.

“If it gets you out, I don’t care.”

“You’re the better pilot, the Resistance needs you more than it needs me.”

“Maybe, but I promised Mum that I’d look after you. ‘Sides, you can’t exactly stop me.” Everyone else in the squadron was almost deathly silent during our exchange, either too caught up with their own fighters or not willing to interrupt what might be our final interaction.

“I’ll miss you,” my voice cracked on the words.

“I hope so, cupcake. I am your favorite brother, after all.”

“You’re my only brother, you nerf-herder!” We’d always joked about him being the other’s favorite sibling, despite being the only two, so the reference brought a half smile and a broken chuckle to my lips.

“Well, if I’m a nerf-herder, and I’m always herding you out of trouble, then what does that make you, I wonder? Now get out of here.” The sudden bite in his voice made me remember why he was a Lieutenant. Long years of discipline asserted themselves and I pulled my X-Wing up and away from the dogfight.

Once I was far enough away I quickly flipped around, because watching was the closest way I could keep my brother from being alone. Somehow, he’d managed to get most of the remaining fighters to follow him. The other members of the squadron defeated their opponents and rained down fire on the TIE fighters to thin the number of opponents my brother had to face, but even the entire squad couldn’t take out all of them.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I love you,”

“I lov--” My sentence was cut off by static as he purposefully drew the remaining TIE fighters in far too close to a very explosive object before smashing his own X-Wing into the tower, blowing up both him and our enemies.

That had happened mere hours ago. Now, my squadron was landing back on base and leaping out of their ships to join the celebratory crowd. I, on the other hand, was gathering both the courage and composure to face the people. Once I had my smiling facade set in place, I jumped from the cockpit, totally ignored the ladder, rolled to my feet, and joined my fellow squad members in walking among the gathered people. People patted us on the back and cheered as we navigated our way through the throng.

“Take a few days off, guys. We did good out there,” my squad leader announced to us once we were a little ways apart from the group of celebrating people. “I know I’m going to go get some food, and you scruffy-looking lot are welcome to join me.” Often, his joking banter was a source of general happiness, for we all knew he meant it affectionately, but for once I found myself forcing a laugh among my friends’ genuine ones.

“Hey, where are you going?” One of the squadron members caught my upper arm, grinning good naturedly as I turned to sneak back towards my ship. “Don’t you want to come celebrate?”

“I’m just going to work on fixing that weapons system,” I replied, my composure held in place by the slimmest thread. In fact, I was surprised I hadn’t broken apart already.

“Ah, you make the rest of us look bad with your care over that ship of yours,” he sighed with fake drama. Normally, I’d have replied with some witty comment about how he did that well enough himself, but I was at my limit. As quickly as I could, I made my way back to my ship and forced the tears back while the crowd dissipated. Eventually though, they were gone and the floodgates broke.

Gasping for breath as my knees buckled and the sobs came harshly up my throat, I sank down against the nearest wall. I buried my head in my arms that rested atop my shaking knees, curled inward on myself as if it were possible for me to disappear entirely if I just squished myself a bit smaller. Everything that had gone wrong ran through my head, everything I could have should have done. Beyond the few words of remembrance offered on our way back, my brother had been forgotten in the wake of what was otherwise a massive victory. He was the only loss on a fairly dangerous mission, and we had accomplished exactly what we set out to do. Finally my mind settled on two thoughts I could not rid myself of - It was all my fault. It should have been me.

And yet, deep down I had always known that this would happen one day. Ever since our father, he had been protective. We both had scars from that man, but my brother had borne the brunt of his wrath in his attempt to protect me after our father had killed Mum. Eventually we had escaped and stowed away on a ship headed for the Resistance, where we had become pilots. He had been my best friend, and really my only friend, all these years. Where he was flirty, outgoing, and friendly despite everything that had happened, I was timid, untrusting, and not nearly as popular. In the course of one battle I had lost everything I had left, and I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself.

The tears were streaming hot and fast down my face and I failed to notice the pair of boots coming toward me in time to shove my mask back on.

“Hey, I noticed you didn’t look so good in the crowd earlier, so when you weren’t in the mess I thought I’d bring you something and see how you were doing.” I instantly recognized the voice as belonging to Commander Poe Dameron, though it was much softer and gentler than I thought it would have been up close. I’d always seen him as a flyboy with a heart of gold, which was partly why I’d had a crush on him forever despite him being far out of my league. When he’d asked me out the first time, I had been over the moon, and the few dates after that still left butterflies. He’d always been nice to everyone, yes, but he had never gone quite so far out of his way for me. On that note it must’ve been my surprise that caused me to lift my head up to meet his eyes.

To his credit, he didn’t even seem to flinch at the sight of my red, puffy eyes that still leaked tears. Rather, he crouched down next to me almost immediately, setting down the cake he had brought but then proceeding to flounder for what to do next. He seemed not to know whether to hug me, just sit down, or go find something funny so he simply ran his hand through his hair in a mild panic. Where I might once have laughed, I could do nothing but stare at him in a confusion that mirrored his own. I had no idea what to do with this man who was clearly trying to help me but who also had no clue how. All I knew was that I did not want the man I was head over heels for to see me like this.

He met my look with a hesitant one of his own, coming to a decision in his mind of what he was going to do, “Uh, do you mind if I sit down?” He didn’t seem very confident, contradictory to who I thought he was. He was putting in an effort to help me, and while at any other time I would have been floating on cloud nine, I really didn’t want to deal with being stoic right now. I wanted to break down and let loose in private.

“Look, if you don’t have anything to say, then I’d appreciate if you would just leave me alone.” I was surprised at the harshness of my voice. He certainly seemed taken aback, his brows drawing together in a mixture of confusion and concern.

He was right back to where he had started, looking at me like i was some alien creature that had taken residence in a familiar body. Before he had a chance to pull together a response, I was on my feet and running tear-blinded into the forest that stood just outside the hangar, leaving him standing there open-mouthed. It felt like I ran for a long time, branches whipping past my face, arms, and legs, before my legs could no longer hold my weight.

I rested my elbows on my legs and hid my face in my hands, the tears finally slowing as my cheeks heated up. I had snapped and humiliated myself in front of the guy I really genuinely liked, and maybe even loved. What was I thinking?!

“Did I-- but… nah... I-I did not just… Really? Why am I like this?” I was beyond frustrated with myself, and it was showing in my cracking voice. “It’s all my fault. Everything. And it cost me everything I had left.” The tears made their reappearance and my whole body shook with the force of the sobs I was choking back. I was so lost in my own mistakes and pain that I didn’t notice Poe’s presence until I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. Startled and not knowing it was him, I whirled around to face him, my muscles tensing in anticipation.

“Hey, easy, it’s just me,” he said quietly, hand outstretched as though he were trying to calm a frightened animal. To be fair, I probably looked fairly wild still. “C’mere,” he invited with open arms, his eyes full of nothing but warmth and concern for me.

“No.” I shook my head almost violently, still desperate to appear strong and in control of myself.

“Come here,” his spoke more firmly this time, stepping toward me and pulling me securely against him. I resisted for another moment, but it was in the moment he forced the contact that I realized just how much I needed exactly what he was offering. The fight drained out of me and I was left trembling and exhausted in his arms, which seemed to tighten around me protectively when I stopped resisting his hold.

“That’s it,” he murmured in my ear, reassuring me even as I fell apart. “I’ve got you. Just breathe, sweetheart. I’m right here.” Very gradually, the tremors stopped but Poe still held me close to his chest, his cheek resting atop my head.

“What happened out there? On the mission, I mean.” His voice was quiet and in no way demanded an answer. “And what’s the business you think is your fault?”

“I-I… It’s my fault my b-brother d-d-” my eyes squeezed shut as I forced my voice to not give out. “That he d-died. I… was in trouble. I’d b-been hit and my weapon s-systems were down a-a-and I had too many TIE fighters on my tail. S-s-so he… he took them out but he didn’t make it… All b-because I got into some trouble... I-it should h-have been me - he was the better pilot. It should have been m-me.” I finished in a broken whisper.

The waterworks seemed to have taken that as their cue and I burst into tears again. Poor Poe didn’t know what to do with me, so he wrapped his arms a little tighter around me and spoke in my ear.

“Hey, hey, Y/N, sweetheart, it’s alright. Don’t cry! Oh goodness, how do you help crying people,” I heard the latter mixed into the reassurances. “I’m rubbish at this. Please stop crying, I can’t stand to see you cry… I’ve got you. I love you. I’m here. Shhhh. It’s alright. Well, I mean it’s not really, not now anyways. But I’m right here.” The tears were still flowing when I pulled back to look into his face, more than a little shocked.

“Wait, back up a minute.” My brow furrowed as I looked up into his eyes. “What was that bit in the middle there?”

“Ummm… I’ve got you?” he offered hesitantly.

“No, after that.”

“I’m here?”

“Mmm, pretty sure it was between those two.” I allowed a half grin to pull at my features.

“Oh, that. I said…” He paused sheepishly and it was his turn to blush, “I love you?”

“Hallelujah, I thought for a minute there that I misheard you.” I breathed a sigh of relief that I wasn’t alone in hoping whatever was between us went farther. “I love you too… I guess I just thought I was the only one.” Poe chuckled softly at that.

“I suppose we both did, then.” One of his hands came up and rested against my cheek, brushing away the stray tears that still fell.

“So how much did you hear?” I asked after a moment, still slightly embarrassed at my outburst.

“All of it… And… I’m sorry about your brother,” he seemed hesitant to bring up the subject again. “He was a good man. But it wasn’t your fault. There isn’t anything you could have done to prevent it.”

“I just… I feel responsible.”

“I know, love. It hurts, and I won’t pretend it doesn’t. That doesn’t mean it was your fault.” He took a moment to press a kiss to my forehead. “He chose to save you. It was his choice, and no one could have forced him to make it. And please don't ever think you should have been the one to die.”

“He was all I had left.” My voice broke again as I said the words. “I lost everything in that one moment.”

“Hey!” Poe looked at you with mock reproach. “What am I then? You’ve still got me, haven’t you?” Looking into his eyes, I saw nothing but warmth and love, and I couldn’t help but smile just a little.

“That I do. And I’m very lucky for it.”

“If you ask me, I’m the lucky one here,” I could hear the grin in his voice as he said it. “I imagine you want to wash off, though, so we would probably be better suited to going back than staying out here.” Immediately I tensesd.

“But… what if people see? I’ve been crying, Dameron, I look hideous.” He seemed to sense what I meant, though I did not speak it.

“Hey, you’re always gorgeous. And if anyone says otherwise, they’re wrong, and I will gladly explain why to you in great detail.” He kissed the tip of my nose playfully before he gently turned my body so we could walk side by side. “I know you’re worried about looking weak, but let me tell you something: Crying doesn’t mean you’re weak. You’d have to be a heartless machine to not ever cry.” He managed to elicit a tiny giggle from me as we started back towards the base, with his arm still supportively around my waist.

We walked leisurely back to the base, pointing out to each other all the curious little plants I had failed to notice when I ran out of the hangar. We were by my X-Wing when Poe stopped, turning toward me as he ran his free hand through his hair. “Y’know, I’ve seen you fly. You’re actually quite good,” he offered, and I realized that my reasoning hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“He was better, though. And you certainly are leagues better than either of us were.” I shrugged and looked down at the toes of my boots.

“See, that’s the thing about flying. You can learn,” he grinned at me as he reached out to tuck back a loose strand of my hair, his face getting closer to mine as he spoke. My heart was beating a rapid staccato as I felt his warm breath on my face.  “And if you’ve got a good teacher then it’s even easier to get better. So… what do you say? Want to go for a few extra flying lessons with me sometimes?” “Hmmm, I’m not entirely sure. I might need some convincing for that one,” I replied, his playful tone sparking an air of lightness in me for the first time all day.

“Perhaps like… this?” He closed the remaining distance between us and I could feel him smiling against my lips. It didn’t last long, however, and I found myself slightly disappointed as he moved back, wanting to feel his lips on mine again.

“That’s certainly a step in the right direction. I haven’t made my mind up quite yet though,” I was blushing as I said the words, not normally bold enough to be flirty. Poe’s eyes lit up as he kissed me again, one of his hands coming to rest on my cheek. My arms wound their way around his neck, one hand sliding up into his hair. The kiss itself was soft and unhurried, for we didn’t have anywhere we needed to be. Eventually, of course, air became a necessity and we pulled apart, foreheads resting together and breath intermingling.

“How was that for persuasive?” His nose brushed lightly against mine.

“I think it’ll do the trick,” I murmured back, continuing after a brief pause. “Thank you, Poe.”

“Any time, Y/N. And I mean that.”

In that moment, I was content. I was still sad that my brother had died, and that wouldn’t just go away. The difference between now and immediately following the mission was that I didn’t feel alone. I knew I would have Poe there, even when the day seemed impossibly dark. After all, happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.

#Star Wars #The Force Awakens #SWTFA #TFA #Poe Dameron #Poe x Reader #Poe Dameron x reader #Sad #fluff #it's all good in the end #HP references