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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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Imagine:

The Batfamily is all assembled in the Batcave working on some case, when Alfred intercoms them from up in the Manor. He says there’s a man on the phone for Master Dick, with it being a matter of some urgency. Bruce starts to ask if he’s established whether its an actual emergency or something he can take a message on, but Alfred continues...

Alfred: Err, the individual in question ensured I was aware he knew Master Dick was on the premises and available to take his call...even if I did need to patch him through to our....downstairs line, as he termed it.

Bruce: Our downstairs line? He phrased it exactly like that?

Alfred: I’m afraid so, sir. He was circumspect, no doubt in deference to our....privacy in such regards, but there was little margin for misinterpretation as to his meaning. This may come as some surprise, but I have considerable practice in the art of reading between the lines, and like to imagine myself somewhat of an expert at the craft.

Bruce: *sighs* Patch him through, Alfred. Did he give a name?

Alfred: Very good, sir. And yes, he did say Master Dick refers to him as Boone.

All eyes swivel to Dick, as Alfred transfers the call to the Batcave’s ultra encrypted top secret super hush hush line. Dick pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

Dick: If I get an ulcer from the next five minutes, I’m absolutely naming it after him.

Bruce: You don’t seem surprised this person has knowledge of our identities. Why wasn’t I informed of this individual, as a potential threat of exposure?

Dick: Umm, it didn’t seem relevant?

Bruce: ....what.

Dick *shrugs*: I mean, to be honest, I mostly forgot. He’s known forever, and its not likely to ever be an issue for the same reason he’s never done anything with the knowledge before now. He’d never give our identities to someone who could potentially compromise us or harm us, because that risks someone other than him killing me before he can say he’s beaten me and proven himself better than me once and for all, and that like. Pretty much would defeat the whole point for him.

Bruce: ....I’m almost afraid to follow your logic.

Jason: I’m so happy right now.

Dick: If it helps, he’s known since like, I was eleven. So I mean, I do feel pretty confident if it was going to be an issue, he’d have made it one way before now. Hence why I....kinda just forgot. I mean, I didn’t really forget, forget, but like I said. It just didn’t seem relevant.

Bruce: ....that does not help, no.

Tim: Wait, what? Who is this guy!?

Damian: ....Grayson, did you hit your head on patrol? You’re not making any sense.

The speaker crackles to life again before anyone can press Dick for more questions.

Boone: Hello? Are you reading me loud and clear in the top secret Batcave you got there?

Dick: Boone. What the hell do you want, and how do you even know we have a Batcave, let alone call it that? And also, what the hell do you want?

Boone: Freddy! My buddy! My pal! Long time, no ass kicking!

Dick: Not that long. Usually you like to wait a few more months than this before ringing me up to ask for another one.

Boone: Any chance we swap this connection out for a video call? You sound irate, and that’s easily one of your top ten facial expressions. You can’t tell but I’m fanning myself just thinking about it.

Dick: I am going to kill you. It is going to hurt.

Boone: Promises, promises. You always say things like that and yet here I am, my masochistic needs still unmet....

Dick: Boone!

Boone: Freddy! Alright, unclench. No need to get your jockstrap in a bunch. I figured you had a Batcave because you obviously have to have some kind of lair on site, and your Daddy Warbucks seems too fond of his toys to fit everything in the attic, so downstairs seemed a safe space. You can relax. I’m not spying on you via a periscope sticking out of your toilets or something suitably archvillainous and cliche.

Dick: And you just happened to know its called the Batcave?

Boone: ....well on that score I mean, I have met you, and your old man does have a theme, and it wasn’t actually super hard to add two plus two and get four there. Thanks for the confirmation though. Its always nice to know I’ll still be able to make it on my brains once all this beauty begins to fade. Ah, time, that bitch. The absolute Murder Icon we all aspire to, with a body count none of us will ever match.

Dick: Did you call just to wax poetic or whatever the fuck it is you think you’re doing, or is that just a treat I’ve earned with all my good karma.

Boone: Actually, funny you should say that, because I’m calling with an exciting investment opportunity that could reap you loads of karma reward points on the back end!

Dick: ....what.

Boone: I need your help. Sorry, was that not clear? I don’t have a ton of practice on that line. My profession’s not big on the whole communal effort sort of thing.

Dick: ....what.

Boone: Oh come on, don’t be like that. It can’t be that shocking to you, I mean, you’re a hero. Helping people is what you do. You have to hear that line all the time!

Dick: Yes, just usually not from mass murderers.

Boone: Oh, you damn me with faint praise.

Dick: As long as we’re clear on the damnation part.

Boone: Besides, I mostly just murder in a singular fashion, you know, as in one at a time. There’s hardly ever any mass.

Dick: Well that changes everything.

Boone *laughs*: Oh, Freddy. We do have fun. Speaking of, how about it? You wanna hop on over to the far side of the world and bail my finely curved and plushly padded ass out of the fire, before the nefarious evildoers who are after me do unseemly and deplorable things to it and also to my organs?

Dick: And here I thought nefarious evildoer was your job description. Someone’s gunning for your head and your title? Tough day you’re having, chum.

Boone: Its the world we live in, mate. Job security just ain’t what it used to be.

Dick: Not sure if that’s the world’s fault or more just something to do with your particular line of work. If only there had been someone at some point in your life who could have warned you about your profession’s usual stats on job security. Oh wait.

Boone: I know, I know. Listen, as dazzling a pairing as my pecs-tastic physique and scintillating intellect may be, I pale before your perfection, old buddy. Be a pal and try not to hold that against me, will you? Tell you what. You come help me out of this little old bind I’ve gotten myself into through no real fault of my own, and I’ll let you give me one of those judgmental stares you’re so fond of, and you can say you told me so. Actually, you know what, for a limited one time only offer, I’ll even throw in a free spanking!

Dick: You’re an idiot.

Boone: I know, who am I kidding. I’d let you put me over your knee any day. Really, its your own fault. When all your stern talk of discipline and punishment makes bad boys like me go weak in the knees and swoon, how can we possibly be expected to keep to the straight or narrow?

Dick: ....why do I get the feeling you didn’t just know I was here, but that my whole family is present and listening too?

Boone: In my defense, I distinctly recall you being the one to tell me to get a hobby, last time we tangoed in Paris.

Dick: I was talking about things to occupy your time without killing people, not inviting you to occupy your time making my life miserable. And it was Chicago, not Paris.

Boone: Well then you should have been more specific. And I know it was Chicago, you moron. Ugh. I may kill people, but you’re murder on a theme. God, you can be such a peasant sometimes.

Dick: This from the guy who....you know what? No. Stop. I’m not getting sucked into this again with you. Get to the point, Boone. Fine, you landed your ass in more trouble than even you can handle, for once. Why is this my problem, and what would possibly make you think I would help you out of a mess you made and probably more than deserve to reap the consequences of?

Boone: Because you’re a goshdarn hero, Dickie, and a better man than me, remember? And because you’re not doing it for Shrike the mercenary, you’re doing it for your old buddy Boone. That you couldn’t save from himself and will hate yourself for not saving now, if I do wind up dead and you happen to ask yourself if you could have stopped this. Which, of course, we both know you will. So should we just skip to the part where you do what we both know you’re gonna do in the end anyway, because you can’t be anyone other than who you are anymore than I can be anyone other than who I am, no matter how much either of us wants to pretend otherwise? Or do you want to dance this out a few more songs first?

Dick: Send the situation details and coordinates to the email address I gave you last time. I’ll be there as soon as I can, and if you so much as think as killing someone while I’m there, you won’t like where I drop you off.

Boone: Mmm. Fair enough. For all the perkiness of your perky parts, your taste in venues has always been shit. You can cool your jets by at least five degrees, Mister Superhero Sir. I’m in no rush to enjoy the accommodations of Bludhaven Penitentiary a second time. They didn’t even have HBO. Barbarians.

Dick: And Boone? After I do this, you and I are through. You stay out of my way from now on, and I’ll do the same. Clear?

Boone: Oh, Freddy. Tell yourself whatever you want to, but we both know that you and I won’t be through until the day one of us dies. I’ll owe you one, let’s go with that. Alright, check your email, just sent the sitch. I’ll see you when you get here, til then this booty’s gotta bounce! Ta!

The speaker hisses static as the phone disconnects. There’s awkward silence as nobody has any clue what to say and Dick very conspicuously checks his email on his phone.

Bruce: This Boone...he’s the mercenary and occasional assassin Shrike?

Dick just nods, his shoulders tense and uncomfortable. Everybody else eyes each other warily, except for Cassandra and Tim who exchange particularly confused glances. They fought a mercenary named Shrike once, years ago, but nobody had ever said there was anything significant about him, or hinted there was any reason he and their oldest brother should have any basis for having a conversation like...whatever that just was.

Not to mention, even Bruce sounds weird now. Like he’s just as awkward and uncomfortable as the rest of them look and feel. And Bruce only sounds uncomfortable when talking about like. Feelings and stuff. Family situations. Never cases. Never....the bad guys.

Bruce: ....he was one of the other students at Vengeance Academy, I take it.

Dick still doesn’t look up from his phone. His voice is resigned and weary. This is not a discussion he wants to have, his siblings can tell that much. Even if the rest is all just gibberish to them.

Dick: He ended up with the League after Shrike died. Trained with them for a few years, then eventually broke off to do his own thing. Called himself Shrike in honor of....our old teacher. He was. Particularly attached to him.

Bruce: ....you...kept in touch, then?

Dick barks out a startled laugh, full of too many other emotions to put a name to.

Dick: Hardly. We’ve just....run into each other over the years since then. He figured out who I was a long time ago, when he recognized my picture in some puff piece online, about you taking me in and your charity work with kids’ programs after that. And he recognized my fighting style as Nightwing, so. It was just inevitable we’d cross paths, I guess. There’s just. There’s stuff between us that never got settled, you know?

Bruce: ...I’d almost forgotten that was where you first honed your skills with your escrima sticks. Why didn’t you ever tell me? Who he was...that you’d encountered him? Since...those days.

Dick finally looks up and studies Bruce carefully. Then he looks off to the side and sighs.

Dick: Because you’d forgotten that was where I first honed certain skills. And I didn’t particularly want to remind you, I guess.

He sighs again and shakes his head as Bruce looks about to respond.

Dick: Bruce, I....look, we’ve both put a lot of years and effort into not talking about this. Seems a shame to break our streak now. Can we just....this is just something I have to do, and I kinda need it not to be anything more than that right now. It’s just. I have to go.

Bruce: ....I understand.

Dick barks out another uncharacteristic laugh, sharp and reproachful, but at who, it’d be impossible for even him to say.

Dick: I doubt that. I don’t even understand. But I appreciate you trying to, and...letting this wait for another time. Like I said. I have to go. Sorry I can’t help out more with the case. I’ll see you all later.

Damian: Grayson, don’t be absurd! You can’t go! Whoever that man was, he’s clearly manipulating you!

Dick shakes his head and laughs one more time, but here, at least, its a bit warmer, a bit closer to his usual humor. He stops to ruffle his youngest brother’s hair as he passes him, before continuing on towards where his motorcycle is parked along the main causeway to the cave’s entrance.

Dick: Trust me, kiddo, I know. He’s not even trying to be subtle. It’s so....tacky.

All too soon, his engine roars to life, and then his cycle and its passenger speed out of the cave leaving behind only shadows, echoes, and the backglow of his headlights, all of which soon die away themselves.

In their wake, all eyes turn as one to Bruce, still seated in front of the Batcomputer.

Duke: I have questions.

Jason: I have comments.

Tim: I have concerns.

Bruce sighs.

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sweetsweetnathan · 4 years

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Silence (Robyn x Yugiri)

[Robyn struggles with the loss of his magic. Yugiri loses her patience with him. About 2000 words.]

(First Chapter)

(Second Chapter)

On the bottom bunk of a bunk bed in the middle of the broiling summer night Robyn lied awake, restless and uncomfortable. Since the beginning of his training Robyn had been moved into the warehouse-turned-operational-headquarters. He lived in the tight, economical confines of a barracks with 22 other agents, including Yugiri, all of them Doman save for Robyn. It had been years, but Robyn was still familiar with these conditions as they mirrored his living situation when he served as a private in the Maelstrom. The promise of private accommodations was one of the biggest factors in Robyn's drive to become an officer, and being able to choose where he lived spurred him into becoming an agent. Miraculously it was not the sharp decrease in quality-of-life that kept Robyn up at night. He understood Yugiri's logic: If Imperial spies were watching the headquarters from afar it would be difficult for them to determine who was the commanding officer of the affair. No one saluted Yugiri, nor did Yugiri dress or position herself apart from her subordinates in any way. In fact, Robyn was more at risk than she was, being the only non-Au Ra of the operation. "The Empire has to wonder," Robyn thought once, "'Why do they have a white-haired human among them? What are they going to use him for? And why is he so bad at ninjutsu?'" But it wasn't even the threat of assassination Robyn feared. It was silence. - Morning came and it didn't take long for Yugiri to notice that Robyn absent from the company's daily group breakfast. "Where is that impossible man?" She thought. His acupuncture sessions were his first assignment every morning, and while he always made it to them on time Yugiri had begun to eagerly anticipate the day he was late. Rarely did he take the operation seriously. "In fact," Yugiri thought, "rarely does he take anything seriously," before deciding to mockingly add, "except for himself." Yes, Robyn was quick to remind everyone what a tremendous sacrifice he was making by temporarily giving up his magic. "Eorzea is losing a great talent," Robyn had said almost every day for the first two weeks. "You all should be thankful." The past week however, he had been suspiciously, mercifully quiet. It would have worried Yugiri if it didn't relieve her so much. The 24-person operation ate all their meals together, and for those first two weeks Robyn was quick to argue with anyone about any facet of Doman culture. "If your religion teaches non-attachment to the physical world, why are you currently eating?" "If your warriors are the greatest in history, why did you lose against the Empire?" Petulant, churlish questions that would just as often demonstrate him to be an ignorant fool as an insufferable genius. Yugiri didn't imagine that both temperaments could exist in the same person. She was not one to chase the rabbits of academia and philosophy; they were too elusive and lived too far down paths she had no interest in walking. This made Robyn's behavior absolutely baffling: Questioning Doman swordsmanship got him into sparring bouts he couldn't possibly win. Questioning Doman philosophy resulted in nothing but Robyn being corrected for his misunderstanding of the fundamental concepts. Yet always Robyn would find more challenges and questions to levy on his comrades. "Why?" for weeks Yugiri wondered. That is, until she received word of his progress in learning Doman custom. It was part of his training to be able to act out Doman bows, gestures, and ceremonies as if he had been living in the country his whole life. And somehow, according to him, Robyn had grown to understand these things through the spirited conversations he had spurred on over meals. Yugiri involuntarily regarded this as clever, though naturally she kept the compliment to herself. She refused to believe Robyn's "method" to be anything more than serendipitous blundering. Breakfast passed. Minutes after the facility's morning assignments began Yugiri received a communique by linkpearl: "Robyn hasn't shown up yet. It's his last session. Any idea where he is?" - The Agelyss river cut a deep creek into the land, resulting in tall rocks along the flanks of the whole riverbed that stood more than six feet above the water's sparkling surface. This made it uncommon to find a place where the ground and the river met evenly, and even if one did find such a spot it was likely contested by a jungle predator. For the last week Robyn had come out to one such spot, making a point to use only ninjutsu to clear away the wildlife. It was his own personal method of training. But while improving his ninjutsu would be a worthwhile endeavor by itself Robyn was there for another reason entirely: The sound of the river. He feared that if he went a day without hearing it that he might lose his mind. Yugiri stood next to Robyn. She didn't walk up to him or appear in a puff of smoke. She was simply suddenly there. Robyn gave a jump, then looked up and mumbled, "You're good at that." "I better be," she said, "any particular reason you're out here?" Robyn expected outrage and ridicule, but Yugiri cut to the chase. Robyn spoke slowly, saying, "Today is my last day. I figured they could wait another moment." "Well they can't. Get up and let's go." Yugiri said coldly. Robyn responded with a sigh. "Just... Slow down, okay? I get it. It's my job. It's a matter of life and death for your nation. I know these things. But listen." Robyn ceased speaking. Yugiri was waiting for him to finish his thought. "Listen for what?" She demanded. "Listen to the river," Robyn said. "It sounds like magic." Yugiri rolled her eyes. She moved to stand between Robyn and the river. "No. No more philosophy. No more questions. No more meditating. You have wasted enough of my time and energy with such things. I don't know what sort of Eorzean issue you're having, but you cannot give up now after my people spent three weeks training you." Robyn, his shoulders low and sullen, his face almost expressionless, stood up obligingly. Were he in a more lively state he would have called Yugiri out for shifting her tone from “accepting of differences” to “some problems are Eorzean problems”, a contradiction Yugiri was more than aware of but let slip in a moment of frustration. To Yugiri's surprise she did not read defiance in his posture as she did almost every other day. Robyn looked weak as he stood before her; despite his training he appeared far less the man he was when they first met. Instinctively Yugiri knew that there was something amiss with the man, but getting it out of him would mean compromising the authority of her orders. "I can do that another time," she thought, "right now keeping the operation on-schedule is the most important thing." Yugiri turned to leave, expecting Robyn to follow. Two steps later Robyn stopped and said, "Yugiri. Let's fight one more time." Yugiri did not respond, choosing instead to keep walking on in expectation that he follow. At the same time though, part of her felt something click into place; there was an agreeable certainty to his offer that appealed to her. If Yugiri were asked to verbalize this feeling she couldn't explain why she felt it, but she did know what it meant: She wanted to fight Robyn. When Yugiri and Robyn fought the first time she noticed something about the way he casted magic from his hand: It was when she was behind him preparing to strike and he shot a wide, wild blast of heat that propelled them away from each other that she noticed him slam his foot into the ground a moment before his magic ignited. It was to brace himself against the backwards shock of his blast, like a pugilist bracing to receive a punch to the stomach during training. In the moment it happened Yugiri felt herself memorize that sound. And now she heard that sound erupt from behind her once more as Robyn stomped into the dirt to brace himself for a discharge of magic. With a leap and a turn Yugiri put space between her and Robyn and faced him, drawing her daggers by reflex. She landed anticipating a blast of flame to be surging towards her that she would have to dodge for her life... But there was nothing. Robyn stood ten steps away from her, a weak smile on his face and an arm outstretched with a finger out and pointing at her. At the very tip of Robyn's finger there was a small flame, no bigger than that created by a stove. Yugiri's eyes searched for deception. Robyn lowered his hand and tilted his head back to look up at the sky; Yugiri's search found only sorrow. "That's all I can make now," Robyn said, "no more than a candle. But it's worse than that. I didn't realize it, but I actually use tiny amounts of aether to move my jaw when I talk. I use aether to lift my fork when I eat. I use it when I read, I use it when I think... But now it's gone. My magic is gone." Robyn's voice was choked. Yugiri sheathed her daggers. It didn't feel right to force him back to the headquarters at that moment. Robyn went on, "Only now do I realize how I must sound sometimes. Without my magic I can't think straight long enough to make a plan, or come up with fancy ways of saying things, or even ask interesting questions. These are the silliest things a person can do, but they were the things I did. If I could ask a question that a person never even considered, that proved I wasn't just a figment of their imagination. It proved I was real, and that I couldn't be ignored. My thoughts and words and questions probably sounded like madness to someone who couldn't feel my magic... Which of course was everyone except for me. But now it's not even me. My mind has gone quiet."

A breeze drifted by as Yugiri tried to think of how to respond. She was ready to sacrifice herself, Robyn, and everyone else under her command if she thought her mission would free the Doman people from Imperial rule. But there were still some lines she wouldn’t cross. It was a small line, likely the first to give in case of emergency, but letting (rather than forcing) Robyn come to terms with what he had to do to get the job done was one of those lines. In Yugiri’s opinion one is not a very good leader if they have to force their subordinates to follow their will.

Finally Yugiri decided what to say back to him. Not an apology, or some condescending consolation, but a challenge: “Aether? Magic? Is that really all you are?” Robyn’s attention escaped the confines of his mind and returned to the world around him. Yugiri said, “Come see me if you want to give up and run back to the Maelstrom. I’ll give you your magic back and send you on your way. I doubt you could even touch me with your ninjutsu anyways.”

Robyn’s eyes focused and unfocused. He stood looking like the wind could push him over at any moment. But he wasn’t falling. He was Self-reflecting on how Yugiri was successfully goading him. With one hand and the minimal amount of effort Robyn drew from his belt a shuriken. Then he turned his eyes to Yugiri and gave answer to her challenge.

Robyn returned to the headquarters with half of his body limp from Yugiri’s pressure-point attacks, half his weight carried on her shoulder as she aided him by dragging him along. For once in his life he said nothing. But he was thinking, slow as he did, about what had happened, and was yet to happen still. The operation itself would start soon, and with it would come an opportunity to find himself... Or find himself lacking.

#robyn sawyer #yugiri mistwalker #ffxiv #ffxiv rp #ffxiv fan fiction #mywriting

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writesandramblings · 6 years

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The Captain’s Secret - p.83

"In Due Time”

A/N: Takes place between episode 12, "Vaulting Ambition," and episode 13, "What's Past is Prologue."

Remember when I said all would be revealed "in due time" back in chapter 63? Yep, that's right, this chapter was already written and that was a SHAMELESS PUN. Enjoy your latest secret reveal, folks. That said, this fanfic STILL probably isn't doing what you might think. Remember, no character is omniscient, not even the one who's a time traveler. Well, definitely not him, as you'll see...

Small note: I made a tweak to the timeline of the Triton back in chapter one, just switched seven months to three, so that's why the number mentioned here might not be as you remember. It's not actually an important story detail, just a tweak.

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << 82 - How Not to be Afraid When You’re a Ghost 84 - Blue Moon >>

It was John Allan, but not as Lorca remembered him. He looked gaunt and a little crazy, as you might expect from someone who had vanished from the known universe and been hiding out in some dark corner, except that had been all of three days ago and Allan was also sporting what looked to be a week's worth of beard growth.

"Well if it isn't Schrodinger's son of a bitch," said Lorca, one of those rare allowances he was willing to give to Groves for having coined so apt a phrase.

"Come up with that one yourself?" said Allan, smirking, because he could hear the other John in it.

Lorca frowned at Allan. His tone was entirely facetious as he said, "You mind? I don't have time for jokes. I've got somewhere to be." His own jokes, yes. Not someone else's.

"Actually, Gabe, we've got all the time in the world." Allan held up a device, a small black object with a blue display showing some sort of oscillating rhythm. "It's called a temporal stasis field, but you might know it better as—"

"Null time," said Lorca. It confirmed what he already knew. Allan had caused the accident on Discovery all those months ago.

Allan hummed faintly in some sort of amusement or appreciation. It was hard to know which; Lorca did not know Allan well if at all.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" asked Lorca, crossing his arms. "Come to warn me about the future?"

"Far from it," said Allan. "I just wanted to see the look on your face when I told you the truth and deliver a message. Message as follows: I'll never forgive you for what you did to Melly."

Lorca raised an eyebrow. Allan looked somber and grave, but Lorca saw an opportunity for some fun. "Which time? There were several. Mind you, first time, she didn't know which way was up, but I sure showed her."

Allan fell silent, staring at Lorca with silent fury. Lorca was delighted, smirking at Allan with smug self-satisfaction.

"So now, what's this truth you've brought me?"

He half expected some grand reveal about time travel he already knew or to learn that John Allan was secretly his and Mischkelovitz's son or something else equally nonsensical. Of course Allan wasn't his son, that was a practical impossibility. Even if Lorca changed his mind on the subject in the near future, Allan had brown eyes, so while he was certainly someone's son, it was unlikely to be the result of blue-eyed Lorca and Mischkelovitz. Maybe Groves or that four-fingered half-sister of his, Danica Stewart, but Allan seemed a little too short and too pale to be either of theirs. Unless Groves had made good on his jibe about being involved with Mischkelovitz, which was about as gross a proposition as could be imagined. Lorca almost laughed out loud at the thought.

Allan's truth was something else entirely. "You were given a gift you don't deserve."

"What 'gift' would that be?" he drawled, lip curling into a sneer. As far as he was concerned, he had never been given anything. Everything he had he had taken for himself, because that was who he was. Someone whose force of will was so strong the very universe bent to accommodate it. As it was bending now.

"Lalana."

Lorca snorted and started to chuckle. That was preposterous. "Nobody gave me Lalana!"

Allan was not laughing. He tilted his head and smiled knowingly. "That's the thing, Gabe. For reasons I'll never understand, someone did."

With his free hand, Allan reached into his pocket and pulled out another device: a tiny silver disc the size of a coin. He flipped it into the air with his thumb and it froze in midair, floating and spinning. For a moment, Lorca thought it was a weapon (Georgiou had a weapon like that) but instead of shooting through the air and killing him, something else happened.

Emellia Mischkelovitz appeared in a holographic projection so perfect it felt like she was in the room. She was older, lines in her face and waves of soft grey hair falling across her shoulders, but it was definitely her.

There was no flickering, no vague sense of emptiness like with current holotechnology. Lorca felt like he could have reached out and touched her. He realized why: the lighting. He could see the lights of the room glinting off her mismatched eyes. She cast a shadow. For a moment, he doubted it was a hologram at all.

All doubts were erased as she began to speak.

"Hello, Lan. It's me, Melly." It was a recording. When she spoke, she was calm and confident, nothing like the current Mischkelovitz. There was a sense of serenity to her. "I know you probably thought you'd never see me again, but I asked a friend to deliver you this message in the hopes that you'd do me one last favor.

"I know you'll wonder why I'm asking this favor of you, out of all the things I could have possibly asked. Time travel is such a potent thing, and most people, if they could do or change anything, would change something more important. Personally important, like the death of a family member. I've certainly lost enough of those.

"But it's because time travel is so important that I'm asking you to do this instead. History must be. In order for you to come here and meet me, history must be as it is, as it was, as it will be. So I cannot change history. But I've gone through all the historical records, and I believe it is possible to make two small tweaks without compromising the integrity of the timeline. And to answer your question as to why, I can only say this: history does not look kindly on monsters. That's why we have to stick together.

"Now, this plan isn't without its flaws. I know that doing this will destroy the person that I am right now, that I'll cease to exist as I am, but this isn't about me. And if my sacrifice can right this wrong, then everything I've lived through will have been worth it. It will also take something from a friend of mine, but... Well, he won't know what he never had, will he? And in some ways that's better.

"Anyway, I'm counting on you, Lan, because I can't save the person I want to save. Mischka died, and I've accepted that. I can't save anyone. But I can make sure that no one is alone. I can do that, if you'll help me. And I promise you won't regret it if you do. You didn't the first time, when you helped me figure out how to do this. And since you're receiving this message from yourself, then the fact is you already went back and did these things. It's just time for you go do them now.

"Your first destination is 2246. You need to find Captain Chaudhuri of the Triton and..."

Allan terminated the image with a wave of his hand and plucked the little projector from the air. "Do you have any idea what this is?"

Lorca stared at Allan and realized the question was not rhetorical. His voice was an amazed whisper. "A message from the future."

Allan had expected that answer. "No, it is not. This version of Melly never existed. This isn't a message from the future, it's a fragment from another timeline, another universe. It shouldn't be, it's impossible. But it is. That's what she did. She found a way to preserve a remnant of what I can only assume is the original timeline so that it would survive when the timeline changed and prevent the creation of a temporal loop or paradox.

"I was sent back to this time, to this place, because it was what has always happened. My being here was ordained centuries before my birth. But this?" Allan held up the holorecording. "This is a miracle. Her miracle. And she wasted it on you. Because this is not the original timeline. The moment she sent this, that ceased. This is what we've been left with. And I don't know what to make of that. I only know that she gave you something you don't deserve. The thing she took from her friend was Lalana. She gave you Lalana."

"How," demanded Lorca. His eyes were locked on Allan with a fierce intensity.

Allan considered the question. He knew what was going to happen, so would it really matter any if he explained?

"In the original timeline, Lalana wasn't rescued by the Triton, she was rescued by the Shenzhou..."

Allan outlined all of it. The events of the original timeline, the three changes he had been instructed to make. First, making the original captain of the Triton sick less than a year from his retirement so the man waiting in the wings for promotion was handed command of his vessel for seven months ahead of its crew's reassignment to the Buran. Second, the preset coordinates of a shuttlecraft on a Tederek moon adjusted a couple of degrees so that when it went hurtling off into space, it intersected within transmission range of the flight path of the Triton. Third, a null time bubble initiated by seeding a single canister of spores with chronitons so their function in the drive was inert and their temporal stasis spread like an infection to the live spores of the second canister while the jump was underway.

As Allan revealed this, it became clear why. There was amazement in his eyes, fervent adoration for the architect of it all, and some sort of relieved honor at having been part of it. That he was the instrument she had chosen gave him a sense of elation. He was proud and wanted someone to know what he had done, what they had done together.

The net result of it all was that Lalana ended up cemented to Lorca's side, rather than with a deep and enduring friendship with Saru. That part shocked Lorca the most. Saru? He stood there, face colored with confusion, and Allan was glad to see it because anything that made Lorca look less than smugly confident was a win in his book.

"I really thought I'd destroyed the timeline," Allan concluded. "But it seems everything's turning out just fine, because you're still exactly where you're supposed to be. I suppose time is self-correcting itself. It makes me wonder, though. If Lalana could choose, who would she have chosen? Saru or you?"

"I would have chosen the captain, and I choose him still," came the answer.

Allan staggered backwards, shocked to see Lalana appear high up in the corner of the room. She dropped down to the floor and landed with graceful ease. "H-How—"

He had been monitoring the security feeds on the Charon, waiting for the opportunity to speak to Lorca alone. The feeds Lalana had looped to disguise her arrival.

"You have not seen things as clearly as you thought," said Lalana. She looked to Lorca. "I am sorry, I know you told me to wait until you called, but I believe that was an appropriate opportunity for a 'dramatic entrance?'"

Lorca chuckled. "That it was."

Allan's head shook. How could Lalana be here? He had been so careful to avoid making any further changes since the jump here. Was the timeline still in flux?

"To answer your question, while Saru is a lovely person and I am sure we could have made excellent friends above and beyond the acquaintance we currently share, the fact is that the Saru who was before the Battle of the Binary Stars and the Saru who is now are not so different. Even if I did love Saru and not the captain, or loved them both, or loved them neither, I would choose the captain because he is a different person and he has need of me, and I choose him still."

Allan stared at Lalana as she spoke, realization dawning. He had been lied to. The person who had lied to him might have called it a repurposed truth, but to Allan, there was no mistaking the act. It was lying no matter what you called it.

It was the last realization he ever had. Taking advantage of Allan's distraction, Lorca picked up the phaser from Maddox's holster, set it to its highest level, and fired. The phaser struck Allan from behind and blasted a hole in his backside that burned partly through to his organs. He fell to the ground.

Lorca wasted no time. He dashed forward, jammed the butt of the phaser in Allan's mouth, and watched as Allan struggled to close his jaw. Lalana joined him.

"I wish to thank you, Mr. Allan," she said. "You have actually given Gabriel and I two incredible gifts. First, you have given us time, which is the most valuable gift there is, and second, you have given us your story, and stories are the best gift."

The light faded from Allan's eyes.

"I do wonder if that was necessary," said Lalana, knocking her hands faintly. "It seems to me John Allan's intention was never to hurt us."

"You heard what Groves said," said Lorca, taking the holographic disc and the black handheld device from Allan's corpse. "We couldn't let him live." He checked Allan for any other devices but found none. Then he took the phaser from Allan's mouth and felt around his teeth. They seemed normal enough. He pried Allan's jaw open. "Can you check his teeth?"

Using her tail, Lalana easily detected the one tooth that was not like the others. She delicately pried it out.

There was a beeping. The screen on the handheld device was flashing red with an exclamation point. Lorca looked at it, watched the exclamation point turn into a countdown, and threw it across the room. He grabbed Lalana and dashed over behind the agonizer control console, huddling with her behind it.

There was a long, sustained beep. Then a little pop and fizzle. Lorca peered out from behind the console. The device had melted into a puddle of components that were dissolving into the air. A moment later, Allan's body began to do the same, until all that was left of him was an empty Terran uniform lying on the ground.

"The null time field is disappearing," reported Lalana. They still had the holorecording and Allan's tooth. Apparently being removed from his body saved it from whatever grisly fate the rest of him had enjoyed.

"Do you realize what that was?" said Lorca. Lalana craned her head at him. "Destiny. Destiny brought the two of us together and destiny put us here for a reason." He took the tooth from Lalana and turned it in his fingers, studying it carefully.

"I am not so certain. I think Allan being here may have been an accident."

Lorca closed his hand around the tooth. "None of that was an accident." There was something sweeping and grandiose in his tone, and also something very familiar. A sort of dark obsessiveness, like he had taken hold of something in his mind as surely as he had taken hold of Allan's tooth.

"Gabriel, when was the last time you slept?"

Lorca ignored the question and checked the time. It was well after 1945. "I think we lost Larsson."

Lalana knocked her hands together. "We must find him."

"We will," said Lorca, not believing it for a second, "but we gotta get outta here first. You ready?"

"Yes."

As they burst from the room and surprised the guards and agonizer techs waiting outside, Lorca felt a surge of adrenaline and confidence. He was more certain of it than ever. Destiny was leading him right where he wanted to be. Everything was falling right into place.

Beside him, her colors shifting seamlessly to match the corridors and panels around them as they moved, Lalana began to worry. He was running. He had started running and he could not stop. All she could do now was try to keep up with him and maintain the promise she had given to the other Lorca. It did not matter that he was running so long as she was running with him.

But for the first time, she began to question if she could keep up. Whatever Lorca thought the conversation with Allan meant, Lalana was certain the truth was something different. She just didn't know what.

Part 84

#fanfic #fanfiction #fan novel #Star Trek Discovery #Star Trek #Mirror Lorca #Mirror Universe #Gabriel Lorca #Captain Gabriel Lorca #Mirror Gabriel Lorca #Discovery

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mountphoenixrp · 7 years

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We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Skadi, the Goddess of Hunting and Winter, whose origins stem from Ancient Scandinavia. She is now a City Council member and detective at the MPPD.

FC NAME/GROUP: Choi Sooyoung/SNSD GOD NAME: Skaði / Skadi (Mortal Name: Goong Eui-jin) PANTHEON: Norse OCCUPATION: Detective at MPPD, Partial PI during not so heavy work days (and depending on the case); I would also like for her to be on the City Council (and maybe thread about it also) HEIGHT: 5”7 WEIGHT: 50kg DEFINING FEATURES: Sharp, piercing eyes that flicker blue during moments of high emotion, Seriously flawless hair (I mean seriously look at it), tall, intimidating stature. impeccable fashion sense

PERSONALITY: Skadi likes her independence and being given a wide berth of privacy and personal space, especially when meeting new people. Though quite distant, she is never rude (without reason), and tends to opt for polite indifference when dealing with strangers. She can be quite intimidating if you let her stature and eyes get to you; she is a proud, confident woman who has no space in her body for meekness. However, she is anything but dismissive, and can be accommodating enough, provided that you respect her in return. This stems mostly for her strong belief in the idea of karma; that whatever you throw out will eventually find its way back to you.

The giantess has also been known for her strong sense of righteous justice, as evidenced by the famous tale of her seeking revenge against the gods for her father’s death. This is also a testament to her unwavering loyalty to those who matter to her, as well as the extent of just how frightening she could be when you cross her. (See history)

While associated with Winter, she is seen more as a benevolent goddess to help you get through the weather than actually one who brings it. She radiates steadfastness and resilience; attributes one needs to get through the months where there seems nothing. The coldness and scarcity of abundance is not an enemy to her; rather it is what gives her strength and was beneficial in molding her into what she has become. In that vein of thought, Skadi could actually be seen as a bit of an optimist, in that she believes there is always something out there to find even when it looks like there isn’t, but she sees it more as just her being stubbornly persistent.

She has had children with a couple of mortals, and those she bears all go through their own personal ‘winters’ – under her guidance, of course. Like the she-wolf, she looks carefully after her young, but once they show signs of being capable and independent she is sure to step back and let them take charge of themselves. She cares for her children (both actual children and those who worship her) and do make sure to check in on them every once in a while; but most of them have inherited her preference for independence and freedom, so she’s sure to do it at a respectful distance.

HISTORY: Comfort.

It had taken her millennia to realize what was missing after her father’s death.

Þjazi was the world to her. She was but a babe in god years when the Æsir took him from her. She dressed for battle, bringing a plethora of weapons and her righteous fury, and stormed the halls of Asgard, all seething, chilly ice. She demanded from them the recompense for which was given to gods that had been slain by others – the life of the killer.

They were loathe to lose one of their own, knowing that her father had been in the wrong to begin with, yet Odin did not see it fit to provoke her anger, and opted instead to try and soothe the giantess wrath. They say it was her fearsome beauty that did it, that let the gods see the righteousness of her demand; or the unbridled fury that radiated from her. The goddess herself does not know and perhaps never will. It wasn’t important at the time.

They offered her other terms of payment, and with each passing offer her patience grew thin–until they proposed something else.

Marriage! they had offered, for they saw her eyes flicker ever so slightly to Baldur’s direction. Another man to replace the one that she had lost, for her to shower with love and partake comfort in. She stilled, but for a moment, but it was all it took for the trickster to realize what he had to do.

Laughter! Loki had figured as he tied his parts to a goat’s beard and rendered himself at the mercy of her judgement. Laughter to replace the sorrow and disdain, and perhaps she would be more reasonable to deal with, to accept one of the gods in place of her father.

Honor! Odin had promised, not just for her, as she would join their ranks upon marriage, but also for her father. The elder god took Þjazi’s eyes and flung them into the night sky, now reborn as the brightest, most beautiful stars.

Everything had sounded… so comforting at the time.

But the stars never seemed as bright as her father’s eyes did when he looked at her fondly during their hunts. The laughter and mirth was too sudden and short-lived, and lasted less than the pain that the sly god had endured for. And Njord – bless his old soul – as great as he was, could never fill the void that was left by the late giant.

It was a marriage doomed from the start, as he was a god of the Summertime, and she of Winter. But they had cared enough for the other to compromise their own personal comforts for the sake of their union. Nine on the mountain, nine on the sea – until it became far too uncomfortable to bear for both. In retrospect, perhaps, she had expected him to be more like her father, not realizing his greatness was of a different kind. And perhaps he should have also treated her less like one of his court, that someone like her could learn to love the briny depths of the sea, when her heart sung for the chill of the mountains, and the embrace of the snow.

She comforted herself in the fact that despite their failed marriage, they remained on pleasant terms. She doted after his children much like her own, and supported the marriage of Freyr and Gerðr, even as it mirrored too closely hers, and she feared for the discomfort it would cause his heart. She comforted herself with the welcome from her new family, a new one in place of her old, and it would do, for a time. Later on Odin would grant her a family of her own, her offspring eventually all growing up to claim their own kingdoms and make their own homes. And Loki, even after boasting to be first and foremost at her father’s murder, had paid for the discomfort he caused her… one way or another.

Perhaps it was the foreignness of Asgard to her home in Þrymheimr. Surely, her father’s hall, with the familiarity of the gentle snow and the strength of its sturdy mountain peaks, could offer some comfort. For a while it did, and she was content – until the nostalgia seeped into her bones and wore her down harder than any cold would, and the sight of emptier corridors weighed on her fragile heart. It was not her home anymore, she had realized a little too late. It had stopped being that ages ago, but she had mistaken familiarity for comfort.

Everyone else had a home they could return to, somewhere or someone they could find solace in. She would find her own, she thought, as she fled from her mountain to travel to another’s. It was just another prey to catch, and if there was anything she was good at, it was that. Yet every time it seemed like she thought she had finally found it, it would slip from her grasp. It was like a familiar dream she tried hard to remember, but just couldn’t.

She starts again, and ventures forth to another mountain, her soul weary but never wavering. Persistence was second nature to her. The winters had shaped her to endure and persevere–and she would. But she hoped – Odin hang her – that this was finally where she would catch it.

POWERS:

Hunting

Flawless aim – she can hit anything when using a bow or spear. Her aim is still better than others by leaps and bounds when using other weapons (throwing knives, blades, etc) but it is possible for her to miss when not using her preferred weapons, and under the certain circumstances (a faster enemy, her in a weakened state, etc).

Master Tracker – she can hunt down anything. Gods with abilities to hide themselves are an obvious exception, though it is still possible given the right circumstances (target is weakened, etc.)

Animal Affinity – she has a slight charm when it comes to dealing with animals associated with hunting, or pack animals (wolves and dogs mostly, but also some foxes, and some birds of prey). She still needs to befriend them thoroughly, especially if they are wild, but they have a liking for her, and she, them.

Ski-dis / Winter Deity

Lighter than snow – she can walk across snow easily without leaving footprints. She is also faster when traveling on it.

Unfrozen – cannot be frozen even in severely low temperatures.

Winter Wolf – being in wintry weather significantly heightens her abilities and allows her to enter a certain, slightly feral state. In this state, she is twice as territorial, and her hunting abilities are enhanced. Unless she knows you particularly well, it is best to stay out of her range. She will literally hunt down anyone seemingly foreign to her, so new friends must stay on guard.

Cold Rage – heightened emotions and stress can make the goddess’ immediate surroundings drop in temperature. The expanse of its range, as well as how quick the temperature drops depend on her current physical and emotional states and the general climate. At her strongest, however, the most she can do is about 100 yards (the length of a football stadium). It drains her excessively afterwards.

STRENGTHS:

Winter Sports – She is exceptionally adept at travelling over ice and snow so she is naturally gifted at skiing, ice skating, sledding and snowboarding.

Fashion Sense – while not actually a gift, it’s something she’s developed over time. She likes dressing up and looking her best, because first appearances matter to her, and she never wants to look unprepared.

Steel Stomach – she can eat most anything (anything) and live through it relatively unscathed and without a reaction or complaint. Millennia of hunting, foraging and living through the endless winter that she calls home naturally developed her stomach to, well, stomach most food.

WEAKNESSES:

Sunsitivity – being a creature of the winter, she is extremely sensitive when it comes to sunlight. While she’s managed to be able to walk around during sunny days, prolonged exposure to sunlight (or the presence of overzealous sun gods and demigods) can weaken her immensely.

Seagulls – As a consequence of her compromise with Njord during their marriage, the sound of seagulls (and sometimes even their presence) greatly affects her mental state. She gets more irrational and emotionally vulnerable around them especially when exposed for extended periods of time, and at a close range. She can kill them, of course, but she’s often too frozen (hehe) on the spot with fear/disgust/anger that she can’t.

Saltwater – while she is a relatively good swimmer, swimming in saltwater slowly weakens her over time. When doubled with sunny weather, she is prone to ‘drowning’ right there in the water. She has also shown slight seasickness when out on a boat for extended periods of time, which is why she only travels by land or by air.

Close Combat – Her best weapons are the bow and the spear, typically mid- and long-range weapons. While she’s an excellent hunter and is well versed in a number of weapons (As most Norse gods are), she is not as physically strong as the others and can be overcome a lot easier with close combat.

Family – she has a soft spot for members of her family, especially those of Njord, Freya and Freyr’s line, and will willingly put herself in harm’s way for them.

#kpop rp #krp #girls generation #choi sooyoung #snsd sooyoung #mp; welcome

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bombshellinfo · 6 years

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Breaking - Saraki Decamps to PDP

I wish to inform Nigerians that, after extensive consultations, I have decided to take my leave of the All Progressives Congress (APC). This is not a decision that I have made lightly. If anything at all, I have tarried for so long and did all that was humanly possible, even in the face of great provocation, ridicule and flagrant persecution, to give opportunity for peace, reconciliation and harmonious existence. Perhaps, more significantly, I am mindful of the fact that I carry on my shoulder a great responsibility for thousands of my supporters, political associates and friends, who have trusted in my leadership and have attached their political fortunes to mine. However, it is after an extensive consultation with all the important stakeholders that we have come to this difficult but inevitable decision to pitch our political tent elsewhere; where we could enjoy greater sense of belonging and where the interests of the greatest number of our Nigerians would be best served. While I take full responsibility for this decision, I will like to emphasise that it is a decision that has been inescapably imposed on me by certain elements and forces within the APC who have ensured that the minimum conditions for peace, cooperation, inclusion and a general sense of belonging did not exist. They have done everything to ensure that the basic rules of party administration, which should promote harmonious relations among the various elements within the party were blatantly disregarded. All governance principles which were required for a healthy functioning of the party and the government were deliberately violated or undermined. And all entreaties for justice, equity and fairness as basic precondition for peace and unity, not only within the party, but also the country at large, were simply ignored, or employed as additional pretext for further exclusion. The experience of my people and associates in the past three years is that they have suffered alienation and have been treated as outsiders in their own party. Thus, many have become disaffected and disenchanted. At the same time, opportunities to seek redress and correct these anomalies were deliberately blocked as a government-within-a-government had formed an impregnable wall and left in the cold, everyone else who was not recognized as “one of us”. This is why my people, like all self-respecting people would do, decided to seek accommodation elsewhere. I have had the privilege to lead the Nigerian legislature in the past three years as the President of the Senate and the Chairman of the National Assembly. The framers of our constitution envisage a degree of benign tension among the three arms of government if the principle of checks and balances must continue to serve as the building block of our democracy. In my role as the head of the legislature, and a leader of the party, I have ensured that this necessary tension did not escalate at any time in such a way that it could encumber Executive function or correspondingly, undermine the independence of the legislature. Over the years, I have made great efforts in the overall interest of the country, and in spite of my personal predicament, to manage situations that would otherwise have resulted in unsavoury consequences for the government and the administration. My colleagues in the Senate will bear testimony to this. However, what we have seen is a situation whereby every dissent from the legislature was framed as an affront on the executive or as part of an agenda to undermine the government itself. The populist notion of anti-corruption became a ready weapon for silencing any form of dissent and for framing even principled objection as “corruption fighting back”. Persistent onslaught against the legislature and open incitement of the people against their own representatives became a default argument in defence of any short-coming of the government in a manner that betrays all too easily, a certain contempt for the Constitution itself or even the democracy that it is meant to serve. Unfortunately, the self-serving gulf that has been created between the leadership of the two critical arms of government based on distrust and mutual suspicion has made any form of constructive engagement impossible. Therefore, anything short of a slavish surrender in a way that reduces the legislature to a mere rubber stamp would not have been sufficient in procuring the kind of rapprochement that was desired in the interest of all. But I have no doubt in my mind, that to surrender this way is to be complicit in the subversion of the institution that remains the very bastion of our democracy. I am a democrat. And I believe that anyone who lays even the most basic claim to being a democrat will not accept peace on those terms; which seeks to compromise the very basis of our existence as the parliament of the people. The recent weeks have witnessed a rather unusual attempts to engage with some of these most critical issues at stake. Unfortunately, the discord has been allowed to fester unaddressed for too long, with dire consequences for the ultimate objective of delivering the common good and achieving peace and unity in our country. Any hope of reconciliation at this point was therefore very slim indeed. Most of the horses had bolted from the stable. The emergence of a new national party executives a few weeks ago held out some hopes, however slender. The new party chairman has swung into action and did his best alongside some of the Governors of APC and His Excellency, the Vice President. I thank them for all their great efforts to save the day and achieve reconciliation. Even though I thought these efforts were coming late in the day, but seeing the genuine commitment of these gentlemen, I began to think that perhaps it was still possible to reconsider the situation. However, as I have realized all along, there are some others in the party leadership hierarchy, who did not think dialogue was the way forward and therefore chose to play the fifth columnists. These individuals went to work and ensured that they scuttled the great efforts and the good intentions of these aforementioned leaders of the party. Perhaps, had these divisive forces not thrown the cogs in the wheel at the last minutes, and in a manner that made it impossible to sustain any trust in the process, the story today would have been different. For me, I leave all that behind me. Today, I start as I return to the party where I began my political journey, the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP). When we left the PDP to join the then nascent coalition of All Progressives Congress (APC) in 2014, we left in a quest for justice, equity and inclusion; the fundamental principles on which the PDP was originally built but which it had deviated from. We were attracted to the APC by its promise of change. We fought hard along with others and defeated the PDP. In retrospect, it is now evident that the PDP has learnt more from its defeat than the APC has learnt from its victory. The PDP that we return to is now a party that has learnt its lessons the hard way and have realized that no member of the party should be taken for granted; a party that has realized that inclusion, justice and equity are basic precondition for peace; a party that has realized that never again can the people of Nigeria be taken for granted. I am excited by the new efforts, which seeks to build the reborn PDP on the core principles of promoting democratic values; internal democracy; accountability; inclusion and national competitiveness; genuine commitment to restructuring and devolution of powers; and an abiding belief in zoning of political and elective offices as an inevitable strategy for managing our rich diversity as a people of one great indivisible nation called Nigeria. What we have all agreed is that a deep commitment to these ideals were not only a demonstration of our patriotism but also a matter of enlightened self-interest, believing that our very survival as political elites of this country will depend on our ability to earn the trust of our people and in making them believe that, more than anything else, we are committed to serving the people. What the experience of the last three years have taught us is that the most important task that we face as a country is how to reunite our people. Never before had so many people in so many parts of our country felt so alienated from their Nigerianness. Therefore, we understand that the greatest task before us is to reunite the county and give everyone a sense of belonging regardless of region or religion. Every Nigerian must have an instinctive confidence that he or she will be treated with justice and equity in any part of the country regardless of the language they speak or how they worship God. This is the great task that trumps all. Unless we are able to achieve this, all other claim to progress no matter how defined, would remain unsustainable. This is the task that I am committing myself to and I believe that it is in this PDP, that I will have the opportunity to play my part. It is my hope that the APC will respect the choice that I have made as my democratic right, and understand that even though we will now occupy a different political space, we do not necessarily become enemies unto one another. Thank you. Dr. Abubakar Bukola Saraki, CON President of the Senate Read the full article

#story

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bombshellinfo · 6 years

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Breaking - Saraki Decamps to PDP

#story

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