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bard-llama · 3 years

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WiP List

This is gonna be looooong (like, REALLY long), so I’mma go ahead and give you a cut here. But if you’re interested in what i’m working on, take a look!

Order purely based on the order my tabs are in. I’m only counting WiPs that actually have more than a paragraph written, because if I didn’t, this list would be even longer. Also, pls don’t judge me but what I name my WiPs 😂

Post-Coital Smoke

Kinda what it sounds like tbh. I just wanted Iorveth getting high and admiring Roche’s body and then Roche decided to be a tease. At some point, I assume there will be sex.

Angst: Sex object Roche

Iorveth’s POV of realizing that Roche hurts himself whenever he flirts at Iorveth. Premise is that Roche has been groomed (intentionally or not) by Foltest to be his. So when he feels attraction towards Iorveth, he needs to be punished. And obviously Iorveth helps him learn that no, that’s not okay and idk recovery???

Midwinter Feast

This idea was 100% spawned by me trying to write holiday fics, but Foltest hosts a Midwinter Feast where they close the city for 12 days, leaving Roche to get along with the Nonhuman/Scoia’tael(ish) delegation during that time. Also, Foltest might be using the feast as a delaying tactic to resupply his army. I legit have no idea where this is going, I just thought the idea of Roche and Iorveth stuck at a feast for 12 days was funny.

Solstice Feast aka To Birth a Verdant Future

This was actually an xmas gift for @lutes-and-dandelions, but I havent finished it yet 😓 But the premise is similar to the former in that it’s another solstice feast. But it’s set post-W3 with Emhyr as Emperor throwing a party in the new conquered capital of Vizima. Roche broods a lot about Foltest’s memory and how he hates Emhyr and decides to distract himself by hanging out with Iorveth and suggesting they follow an old elven tradition. And that’s all I’ll say. XD

Next Year (Solstice Feast sequel)

Literally set the next year. This time they merge their lives by merging their people’s traditions.

Lily Preserved in Amber

Okay, haven’t gotten very far in this, but I decided it was an elven rite of passage to go searching through the forest for a sign of your future. And Iorveth finds a piece of amber with a lily preserved inside. I haven’t decided if it purely means Roche or if it means his whole family with Roche and Boussy and Anais and all. So far, he hasn’t even found the amber yet lmao. But he did just discover music!

Character taking control of the other and Character B just letting go and enjoying themselves

Under the subheading “Porn Snips”, so uh, yeah. Starts with Roche and Iorveth fighting to decide who gets to top, involves Roche getting choked, and Iorveth ripping Roche’s pants off. Oh, also, they’re currently at a fancy party hiding somewhere in the garden lmao

Based on @moonlights-ordinance‘s art

Moonlight’s working on an adorable piece where Roche leans his forehead against Iorveth’s back between his shoulderblades. I decided to make it post-W3 with both of them working as paper pushers/administrators under Emhyr’s Temeria. And Nilfgaard does not believe in chairs with backs (or, really, Emhyr wanted to see how long Roche’s pride would make him suffer. It’s a long time). The idea is to show development over time as they slowly get more comfortable with touch and start using each other as backrests. And then the sweet scene Moonlight is drawing.

Eliza for @useless-empty-brain aka Can’t We All Just Get Oolong?

Next is Iorveth’s POV, but I legit cannot figure out where to start. But we’re gonna see some of his thoughts (like how Eliza volunteered him to stay in Vizima for an unspecified period of time and he said yes even though he can’t and now has to commute regularly because he doesn’t want to miss tea with Roche but also doesn’t want Roche’s spies to catch on lmao) and his curiosity about Roche and Foltest and what Roche’s mission is (which I... totally know.)

Roche’s Scars

@moonlights-ordinance sent me a great pic of a mod for Roche where he had some pretty vicious scarring/mutilation. So of course I decided I needed to tell the story of each one. But really, it’s a story about the stages of acceptance with scars. Both Iorveth and Roche start out hiding theirs, but eventually come to reveal them comfortably in public.

Vernon Roche of the Scoia’tael aka The Value of a Man

Does my title give it away? Oops? So, this is a found family fic where Roche is captured by the Scoia’tael and the elves and dwarves slowly come to see him as - well, I was gonna say human, but as a person, I guess. And start feeling really, really guilty, especially when some not great things happen to Roche.

Oh also, Foltest is a giant dick and uh, SPOILERS he does not try to get Roche back. Which leads to a whole subplot that will end with a found family for EVERYONE, because they all deserve to be happy dammit.

All of that was just one document lmao. I have 24 documents, some of which have quite a few WiPs in them. 😱

Kiss Prompts

24. Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer. AKA How to Fluster an Elf

When I got the idea for How to Fluster an Elf, I decided it was gonna fill the prompt dammit. And then it really, really expanded on me.

33. An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.

Roche dreams occasionally that Iorveth visits him and watches over him and sometimes speaks, but he can’t understand Elder Speech, so he assumes it’s all gibberish.

Then he finds out it’s not and suddenly he’s not so certain it’s a dream

16. One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.

Okay, I literally just need to buckle down and write some good kissing. This is set in (Im)Perfect Strangers and Iorveth is pouting about them leaving the gardens, so Roche makes it up to him.

25. Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain.

This one won’t actually be published with the kisses ‘cause it’s porn and the rest are T-rated lol. Buuuut Roche and Iorveth are trying to have a secret liaison in the forest when the rain starts. Featuring nature magic, tentacles, and Iorveth getting filled.

Scenes from Another World (aka AU premise)

Old Men in Vergen

Set during Witcher 3, but with an established relationship. Roche comes to visit Iorveth in Vergen to ask for advice on leading an insurgency. Iorveth just wants to feed Roche while he can now that he’s not the one starving in the woods.

Language Aphasia/Deal with the Devil

I wanted to write Gaunter! So I decided that Gaunter is in a mood for some mischief (he calls it being generous) and comes upon a traveling Vernon Roche who wishes that he could be understand Iorveth. Then Iorveth’s Scoia’tael find a passed out Roche in the woods and bring him to Iorveth for judgement. Only somehow, Roche only understands Elder Speech now. He can’t understand Common at all. The Scoia’tael find this very offensive and Iorveth is mostly freaked out that someone who can do THAT was wandering around his forest.

Bunk Beds: The Portrait of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

Based on a silly comic, Ciri convinces Iorveth and Roche to try to help her destroy the portrait. Geralt gets pissed and sends them to Bunk Bed Exile. Shenanigans ensue and somehow they start to get along.

Iorveth’s Scoia’tael Giving Him Shit For His Taste in Men aka The Lovestruck Fox

Right now, working on a piece from the POV of a new Scoia’tael recruit who is discovering that Iorveth’s Scoia’tael roast the fuck out of him over his crush on Roche.

Speaking of, anyone have suggestions on prime roast material? I am not this creative.

Let’s Torture Roche!

No, really. This one is pretty dark. And told in kind of a different style than my usual, because I felt like it. So, premise is that Iorveth and Roche were a thing in the past, but then Roche was recalled to Foltest’s side and he went. So Iorveth is understandably pretty hurt and pissed (this was decided for a prompt of someone breaking down as soon as they’re behind closed doors). Buuut what he doesn’t know is that Roche is not with Foltest of his own volition. Hostages, blackmail, and torture are all involved and Foltest is a pretty horrible guy. But of course we need a happy ending, so eventually, Iorveth will rescue Roche and they get to recover together.

Life Debt aka Iorveth is an Asshole

The concept for this was that Roche saved Iorveth’s life and now that they were no longer enemies (set during Witcher 3), his honor demands that he follow Roche around until he can repay the favor. Featuring Iorveth being a trolling asshole, correcting the new Temerian Loyalist’s fighting abilities, and Roche being very, very tired.

In application, it’s mostly angst so far, ‘cause I had to set up HOW Roche saved Iorveth’s life. And then I decided to really hurt Iorveth. But tbh I will probably skip ahead after establishing this stuff, because I just want shenanigans.

King and Country

I’ve got several WiPs for this one, including the Stripes’ recruitment, their decision to change sides, the Stripes being double agents, and of course, Iorveth and Roche’s developing relationship. But hey, I’ve skipped ahead to writing their wedding already, so... you know it ends happily ever after?

Friday Fight Night for Jan 29 (which I did not make oops)

So, this actually turned into a long piece that’s gonna be part of my Chronic Pain series. Basically, King Foltest is treating with the leaders of the Scoia’tael in Temeria and Iorveth is one of them. Unfortunately, he’s having a REALLY BAD pain day, but he’s also determined to be there to represent his people. Roche helps him see sense. Possibly forcefully.

Exhaustion Prompts

“If we’re both in this state, we both really screwed up somewhere huh?”

Iorveth and Roche are trapped in a dream and I got a little stuck creating the creature that trapped them there. But pretty sure Saskia is gonna interrupt their flirting by saving them.

“You were almost dead from pushing it too far!”

In which Roche has a heart attack from too much coffee. Yeah. He’s okay, though! But PT is about to blow a gasket and coffee will very much be disallowed.

Found Family Prompts

Taking Out the Trash for @useless-empty-brain

Literally a story about taking out the trash lmao. We’re gonna see if I can make this intersting.

Touch Starved for @mochii-girl

Honestly, haven’t gotten much done on this yet, but I’m thinking puppy pile cuddles in Corvo Bianco

Coffeeshop AU aka Brewing Romance and Dissent

Ooof I’ve got a lot of bits and pieces of this written, but nothing quite finished, except for the moment when things change from “we flirt as I order coffee” to “I make you special drinks and invite you to come visit me after hours”. Writing a canon coffeeshop au when I know shit all about coffee is HARD.

Curse Breaking

Omg this is one of the first WiPs I started for Iorveth/Roche, no joke. STILL WORKING ON IT! The premise is that Roche finds a feverish and dying Iorveth in an empty Scoia’tael camp, saves him with the power of True Love’s Kiss The Power of Strong Emotions, Like That Which You Might Have For Your Enemy. Then they team up to go save Iorveth’s Scoia’tael from a big bad mage and Roche invites Triss along for the ride, which totally doesn’t make Iorveth jealous. I kinda stalled out at the part where they reach the mage’s hideout and see the results of the mages failed experiments. On Iorveth’s people. It’s gonna hurt. A lot. But afterwards, there might be makeouts. And some sort of implication that they’re all down to do this (minus the horrible, traumatic parts) again.

Roche POV bloodplay

Roche’s POV starting from before his first encounter with Iorveth. Then he has a weirdly sexually arousing encounter with the elf, and tbh, that’s as far as I got. But Iorveth draws blood from Roche’s neck, presses his thumb to it, and then licks it off his thumb. Next, Iorveth was gonna be the one getting Uncomfortably Aroused, but I haven’t gotten that far. No idea where this is going overall.

Iorveth Investigates Roche

This kinda isn’t a real WiP in that idk if I’ll ever finish it. I mostly started it to do some worldbuilding about what public information there would be about Roche.

Voyeurism AKA Eye on You

Yeah, I don’t have much for the next chapter yet, tbh. So premise is that Iorveth accidentally ends up watching Roche get off at the brothel and finds it really, really hot. Hot enough to get curious and go back for more. Next one is going to involve thigh fucking and Iorveth might possibly get pegged by Daph??? idk

Fake Relationship

Poor @lutes-and-dandelions has been waiting forever for this one and I can’t even find a place to end the scene and post what I have so far. Premise is that Iorveth and Roche are both investigating their missing men and the trail takes them to the Murivel Resort for Couples. So they go undercover. Featuring Roche’s POV of being doubtful, Iorveth using the excuse to flirt outrageously, strip gwent, and a magic amulet that hids Iorveth’s scar and that Roche hates.

Competitive Makeouts AKA The Chase

This was kissing practice and it turned into a casefic! Which is awesome because I love casefics even though I haven’t published any yet. So in this one, as Iorveth and Roche sneak off to makeout, they also end up investigating a conspiracy in the Temerian military.

Iorveth/Roche(/Kayran) + Roche/Foltest aka Every Kiss Begins with Kayran

In which Roche accidentally walks in on Iorveth’s monthly fuck date with the Kayran and gets invited to join in. Then, somehow, it starts to turn into a relationship. With an elf and a tentacle monster. And yet, somehow, this relationship is healthier than the one with Foltest. The contrast opens Roche’s eyes.

Pining and Poignards

In which Iorveth stabs Roche with his favorite knife and wants it back and is also maybe pining a lil bit. Meanwhile Roche is rather pissed, but also curious and begins to teach himself Elder Speech to try to read the inscription on Iorveth’s knife. I stalled out in the scene where Iorveth accidentally watches Roche masturbate in the bath.

Iorveth tittyfucking Roche

Look, it’s what it says on the tin. Roche’s POV of Iorveth’s fascination with his chest and how it makes him feel and then there is sex.

Dirty Gremlin Man

Iorveth gets off on Roche being a sweaty, stinky human. Roche pins Iorveth in a fight and Iorveth gets very distracted watching a drop of sweat trail down Roche’s face. So distracted, in fact, that he doesn’t think twice before stretching out his neck and licking it. Then, of course, he remembers where he is. Featuring a very confused Roche, a smidge of jealousy, and Iorveth stealing Roche’s sweaty clothing to do unspeakable things to it. And somehow they get together.

Want me to sit in your lap?

Geralt LEGIT says this to Roche like 5 mins into the Witcher 2 and it’s GREAT. So of course, I had to write a scene where he actually got to. This is set post Witcher 2 while Geralt, Triss, Roche, and Ves are headed back to Temeria. Triss offers Geralt a little stress relief - which involves warming Roche’s cock and watching Triss and Ves get to know one another.

Red is the Rose

So, Chapter 4 is set post-Witcher 2 and Iorveth is obsessing over the fact that the Rose of Remembrance still has not wilted. He wonders what might be possible, so when he hears a rumor that a certain Temerian Commander was taken captive by Dethmold...

Dethmold most definitely dies. But unfortunately, that doesn’t save Roche from the curses he cast. So they go looking for Geralt to find out how to fix it.

This has only been 9 of my documents, y’all. I think I have a problem.

De-Aged Fic aka The language of friendship is not words but meanings

Ugh, I lost my momentum on this one, which sucks, ‘cause the next chapter is so close to done. Iorveth just needs to do a little freaking out first. But then they will both be back to adults and have to DEAL with the fact that they made good friends and would kinda like that again. I think this fic is gonna be purely friendship for them, but they’re gonna get there.

Glory Hole

A fic for the @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo where Roche hears a rumor that some Scoia’tael go to this brothel on the outskirts of town and hey, he may as well check it out, right? By going undercover and working the glory hole, of course. He never ACTUALLY expected Iorveth would come, but his legendary mouth was enticing enough to draw the Scoia’tael commander out.

Snuggling

Thirteen “accidentally” handcuffs Iorveth and Roche together when they capture Iorveth. This leads to them lying on the cot in the Stripes’ holding cell, spooning. There is banter and tickling and escapes not attempted and also maybe some sex with Inexperience Iorveth (i say maybe because I already started the sex, but idk if it will fit in).

Petals and Stripes

A weed is but an unloved flower

Okay, the Stripes are going to attempt to woo Iorveth during a battle. Also, there is a stabbing. And then a kidnapping. And then, miracle of miracles, someone actually tries talking!

One person's weed is another person's wildflower

Ves’s POV! She cleans up the mess her idiots make and terrifies the life out of one elven suitor, but first she’s gotta deal with her own conflicted feelings about her Boss, the guy she relies on to show her the shades of grey in the world, loving the elf she’s supposed to kill.

After that, I’ve got 2 more fics planned in this ‘verse. One is gonna be a fluffy and/or sexy date after Iorveth and Roche have gotten together. The other is a Scoia’tael side story, featuring lots of gossip about the humans sending their Commander love letters.

Love Shack

The Better Part of Valor

Ugh, I’m stuck on the sex again. Roche is having a really shitty day, so he goes to the cabin and signals Iorveth that he wants a round. Iorveth offers gentle (for them) sex and praise. And at the end, there’s a very significant scene where Iorveth removes his bandana. Roche buries his fingers in Iorveth’s hair, but doesn’t actually see his face, as he’s laying on his stomach with Iorveth on top of him.

Medicine

The morning after! Roche wakes up to find Iorveth in the bath, facing away from him, and notices a new scar. Iorveth has to deal with actually revealing his scars in daylight and they discuss the significant differences in elven and human medicine. Hint: I turned my own medical procedures into elven medicine, so it’s pretty fucking good.

PWP Ovi

Set ambiguously late, maybe after Thou Art More Lovely and More Temperate. Iorveth and Roche explore what Roche can take. We start with overstimulation, go into consensual somnophilia, come inflation, breeding kink, and oviposition. Because elves reproduce by laying eggs, which is not at all the case purely because I started this WiP ages ago and was horny.

The Picture Says It All

There’s going to be 5 more pictures that Rinn draws for Iorveth. Next is Roche hard at work, hunched over a desk. Then we’re getting some shirtless Roche, for “research”, of course. Then Roche cuddling with PT and the rest of the team, about which Iorveth is not at all jealous. Then a face study of Roche during a fight and uh, Iorveth is uncomfortably turned on. And finally, a drawing of their cabin with a silhouette in the window. She knows.

Roche & Rinn: The Haunting of Barrack 8B

Oh man, I really want to finish the next chapter, because I already have the one after that done. But first, we get introduced to Adda! This ‘verse is going to feature Adda the White a lot more than any of my others have done so far and I’m very excited. Also, Silas continues to be terrified of the ghost and the ghost and Adda become girlfriends buddies.

Roche builds Iorveth a home

Set late in the ‘verse, after Roche knows his feelings, but they haven’t said them yet (not out loud, anyway). Iorveth takes a trip to go meet Saskia do things off screen and Roche ends up turning to his old hobby, carpentry, to keep himself from pining too obviously. So obviously he ends up builing Iorveth a solarium. And a pillow nest. And a scaffold so that flowers that blossom in the moonlight cover the glass and give them privacy.

I got stuck here because Rinn needs to give Roche a hint to get him to build the pillow nest, but I hadn’t developed Rinn and Roche’s relationship yet, so had to go back and do that. But eventually Iorveth returns and they have wonderful I’m-not-saying-it-but-i-love-you sex in the new pillow nest.

Foltest (WiP): Long Live the King

This is actually the last fic in the ‘verse, so I don’t want to give too much away. But actually, I haven’t figured out what the next chapter is, BUT I have the chapter after that started and it is GOOD, just you wait!! I’m very excited.

Don’t Cry For Me, Temeria

This ‘verse alone, I have 14 WiPs and a dozen more unwritten ideas.

(Im)Perfect Strangers

I am frustratingly stuck on this chapter. Theoreatically, we are going to have a check in on how the mountain and the rest of our cast is doing and then Roche launches his Wooing TM plan (aka dinner, gift, and dancing).

Between Two Fools

Yeah, Roche and Iorveth have very different understandings of what their gifts represent. There is some soft happiness and then a swift rug pulled out from under Iorveth’s feet, I’m afraid. BUT we are almost to the part where the two idiots sit down and actually talk properly.

Unlucky Number Thirteen

Not only do I have more of Thirteen’s story planned, but I have ideas for ALL the Stripes to have stories. We’ll see how that goes. But for now, Thirteen starts spying for Roche. A lot of still-nebulous stuff happens, including Thirteen’s first time, for which he asks Roche to help. Additionally, once we reach the (Im)Perfect Strangers timeline, Thirteen has a special story all his own. It involves learning to read and a secret I shall not yet reveal.

Silas

Like I said, all the Stripes are hopefully getting stories. But Silas’s is coming along nicely. He starts a new life as “Silas”, as a man, and joins the army. Boot camp is rough and awful and he’s not very good at any of it, but one day, Roche comes looking for a recruit. He needs a codebreaker to decipher Thirteen’s scouting reports (another one for pictures). So Silas joins the Stripes, but he’s still terrified that they’ll fnd out and think he’s been lying to them. Fortunately, they’ll be putting his fears to rest.

Stripes Sex aka Earning Your Stripes: The First Time

PT’s POV! The Stripes (pre-Silas) are all still getting comfortable with each other as a team. But Thirteen has known Roche the longest and in a specific capacity. So one evening when he needs to get out of his head, Thirteen asks Roche to dom him. PT is confused and scandalized and then jealous, but he gets to join in soon too. Meanwhile, Finch and Ves have fun with their bratty arsonist and Fenn is loving it.

break (v /brāk/): to destroy someone's resistance

This is very long and entirely build up to porn. And then lots of porn. A question during a random conversation leads Roche to make Iorveth ask him to take Iorveth utterly apart in a consensual non-consent fantasy set when they were still enemies in the forest.

Bath House

This was supposed to be a simple PWP where Roche talks dirty to Iorveth under his breath while the two of them are at the bathhouse with Boussy (who LOVES baths and brought them to the fancy bath house), Anais, and Thirteen (who HATE baths and react to water much like a cat). They kinda took over the story and there has been no dirty talk yet oops.

Iorveth POV: Tutti

Iorveth begins to reclaim his love for music and lets himself improvise and compose again. And he ends up writing a song that is the story of his and Roche’s romance.

Daggers, Dumplings, and Dresses

The Elihal/Hattori side story! Though we haven’t actually met Hattori yet. So far, Elihal is expounding on his past and his relationship with Iorveth (he used to make all of Iorveth’s fancy gowns for concerts). Elihal and Hattori won’t play a HUGE role in (Im)Perfect Strangers, but they will be appearing!

Ves and Ciaran aka The First Rule of Fight Club

Ves is stuck walking a very long way back to Vergen with the memory of Ciaran’s skin against her teeth. And even though elves lie like breathing, she can’t help thinking about what he said about Roche not being worth her loyalty. Slowly, she begins to work some things out.

Sex with Saskia/Dragonfucking

Yeah, it’s what it sounds like. Iorveth tells Roche that Saskia agreed to a threesome and where to meet, but he neglected to mention the rather large dragon that was currently rimming his ass. Roche gets distracted from his confusion by the hotness and watches Iorveth get fucked by a dragon (with 2 dicks to fit 2 holes, of course).

Come Inflation + Piss Play

Um. Yeah, it’s a PWP where Roche asks Triss for a potion that will make him come a lot. And then Iorveth wants more. No idea where it’s going, tbh.

Stripes vs Scoia’tael: Water Balloon Fight

Literally a water balloon fight. For morale.

Baby Mama

Uh, the title is a bit telling here oops. But let’s just say Iorveth and Roche go on vacation to the cabin on top of the mountain again when Iorveth is hit with the sudden extreme urge to breed. Roche is down, but at some point, they do actually need to talk.

King Roche aka fics where Roche is in charge and hates it. Some are more in line with this than others.

Post W3 Becoming Terrorists Together

Ah yes, the murder husbands fic. Literally, Roche gets stuck leading Temeria under Emhyr’s orders and he’s good at it, but he HATES it. Enter Iorveth, who both points out security flaws, joins Roche for a surprisingly unawkward bath, and proposes that they go hunting down war criminals on their own time. How can Roche say no?

Pre-W2 Ambassadorial AU

Different first meeting AU! In this one, Iorveth is sent as the elven ambassador to Temeria and it’s about as much fun as one might expect. Triss and Roche, the other outcasts amongst Temerian court, decide to befriend him. Well, try to anyway. idk where this is going, but it’s been fun. Also, Iorveth wears a fancy braid over his eye, because I said so. Also, I might be planning an OT3 porn scene at some point, because it turns out, elves are VERY sensitive to magic XD

Leap of Faith

Okay, yeah, this has nothing to do with King Roche, but it’s the doc I was working in when I got the idea. In this one, a mage captures Iorveth for Foltest and starts torturing him. Roche, without really thinking about it, decides the mage goes too far, so he kills them. Leaving him with an elven prisoner and a castle full of people who will consider him a traitor for that. They escape the city, but now Iorveth has gotta convince Roche that no, the King really won’t forget that whole murder and prisoner escape thing.

The whole point of this fic was for me to write them jumping off a cliff lmao. When am I gonna get to that? Probably like last or second to last chapter, tbh. Which should be... after the next one? No, I lied, it’s next chapter! I need to get on that!

An ill-favour’d thing, sir, but mine own aka Possessive Sex

Piss Fic

Um. Yeah. Roche is really horny when Iorveth gets home and is on him immediately, which is great, but Iorveth has gotta piss. Which becomes less urgent as Roche is determined to have his face fucks, but after he comes all over Roche’s face, it’s VERY urgent and Roche is a fucking brat and won’t move out of the way. So obviously the response to this is to piss on Roche’s crotch - which Roche is apparently more than okay with.

Cum Dumpster Roche

Yeah, this one doesn’t have much yet, I literally just wanted Roche getting railed and claimed and L O V I N G it.

Possessiveness

Iorveth spends a lot of time thinking about his enemy, his nemesis. He’s researched Roche extensively, spent hours thinking up tactics and strategies to outwit his nemesis. He literally knows what Roche named his stupid weapons, but he’s never actually met Roche.

But he’s dreamt about it. The Roche in reality doesn’t look like the assumptions he made in his dreams, but who cares about looks? Because Roche is his, and certainly not some dh’oine king’s.

Tentacles + Breeding

Gods, this one is SO CLOSE to being done dammit, I just gotta finish it!! But it’s a fun one. Iorveth and Roche are fighting, when Iorveth suddenly starts fighting plants, which are fighting back. Then the plants notice Roche and suddenly he’s tied up with vines and his clothes are getting torn off and uh, he’s not supposed to find this hot, is he? But he really kinda does. And then Iorveth goes and claims him and tries to protect him from a nearly-extinct non-sentient plant that sensed a warm spot to lay its eggs until someone else could come along and fertilize them. Iorveth is delighted to be that person.

Dream: Pleasure Slave

Yeah, Roche really likes getting claimed in these. In this one, he has a favorite dream setting where Iorveth rules some grand elven kingdom and Roche’s only role is to bring him pleasure. Not to deal with politics or nobles or policy, but just to make Iorveth feel good. So far, this features cock warming, come inflation, a leather cock cage (so to speak), prostate milking, and a very nice silver chalice that Iorveth expects Roche to fill before they’re done.

Roche wears a collar

This was gonna be a simple lil thing based on me creating Roche in heroforge and giving him a lil hidden collar. But then Iorveth decided to get really sappy and had to design and create the perfect collar for his enemy. And then, much to his surprise, he gets the opportunity to PUT his collar on Roche. Which is great, except the sight distracts him so much that Roche manages to escape.

But the next time they meet, Roche is still wearing that collar, hidden under his chaperon and armor. Iorveth has feelings about that.

Standalone

Crones fic aka And Ghosts Did Shriek and Shrill

So this is the angsty fic that started from a crack premise. Er, one of them. I seem to do that a lot. But in this one, Roche goes to the Ladies of the Woods and asks for his men back. The Ladies agree, in exchange for 6 lifetimes of service. But no creature can reverse death. Which leads to the Stripes coming back to “life” as ghosts - only Roche is the only one who can see them. Ves can’t (not at first).

Believe it or not, the whole idea behind this was the Stripes roasting Roche as he tries to flirt (terribly) with Iorveth. But uh... somehow it turned pretty dark. Like, it’ll have a happy ending for sure, but it’s gonna be a lot about processing trauma and grief and building families and also curing a plague, because that’s the first assignment from the Ladies.

Stripes fics

Cuddles with the Commander

This is intended to be a sequel to The Pride of Temeria, but I kinda got stuck figuring out exactly how Roche should react. Tbh, I don’t have much of this written yet, but the goal is for Roche to approve cuddles with everyone lmao.

Fire Breating

Okay, this one started as crack purely because I love fire, but it’s actually been really fun. So, Iorveth and Roche are established and Iorveth has been invited to a family night with the Stripes, which is kinda a lil awkward. So they decide to showcase some of their talents - which includes Roche singing musicals and PT breathing fire.

Iorveth is horrified that humans have harnessed this skill.

Iorveth’s missing eye

This is really short and idk if I’ll continue it, but the idea was for Roche to really wonder what was up with the bandana over half of Iorveth’s face was about. And then, of course, to find out.

Iorveth Gangbang

Why is this under Stripes fics, you might ask? Well, I have great news for you. Guess who the gang is?

In which Iorveth and Roche are in an established relationship and Iorveth gets tied up in the middle of the Stripes’ camp while Roche orders his men to take him apart. Iorveth very much enjoys himself, and then when the Stripes are tapped out, Roche shows ‘em how it’s done.

Kink Bingo fics aka that event that I totally failed, but hey, prompts are prompts.

Age Kink

In this fic, Iorveth and Roche both end up captured by unknown forces and end up imprisoned together. I think the Stripes and Scoia’tael are probably working together to find them and save them, but in the meantime, Iorveth and Roche decide to get to know each other a bit better. Featuring muscle spasms, blow jobs, and pain kink.

Eskel/Lambert (okay, a little out of place here, but eh, it’s in the doc and I am still working on it)

Started for a prompt on tumblr, Eskel and Lambert end up fighting and, trying to keep the peace, Eskel casts axii on Lambert. Which leads to Lambert confessing that he bit Eskel because it’s the only way he could get his mouth on him. This leads to some dodged confessions, some frottage, and some snarky banter, because of course it does.

Tempt Not a Desperate Man aka the Fuck or Die series that started with Devour What’s Truly Yours

Fisting

The next part of the series, where Roche struggles with the fact that he’s been high key horny ever since the encounter in the woods with Iorveth and nothing is satisfying him. Iorveth, on the other hand, is jealous and annoyed that Roche keeps going to the whorehouse.

Then Roche decides to make a potentially suicidal move and enters the forest to try to find the clearing from last time. And, as you might guess from my heading, fisting will be happening.

Iorveth POV: The Chaperon

Okay, I don’t actually have much of this written, but it’s really cute so - Roche keeps using his chaperon as a cum rag, so Iorveth knits and/or sews him a new one.

“Human Bootlicker”

PWP where Iorveth jokingly suggestions Roche should surrender on his knees - and then Roche does. And asks Iorveth to take his prize. Featuring Roche coming all over Iorveth’s boots from getting his face fucked, then leaning down and licking up the mess while Iorveth watches and then comes over his face.

One Accidental Proposal and Five Attempts At Accepting

So one of the themes of this ‘verse is gonna be the Elven Baths where the Roses of Remembrance grow. As in, they decide to make the elven baths a place they meet up. This is the first time Iorveth takes Roche there, and Roche does not know what significance the roses have. But he DOES know that Iorveth blushes cutely when he tucks a rose behind Iorveth’s ear, so...

Iorveth would like to accept, only Roche doesn’t know WHAT he’s trying to accept.

The Legend

So in the game, there is a legend around the statue of elven lovers above the elven baths. “Legend has it the lover’s sighs are enchanted within these very stones, though only those in love can hear them.”

Iorveth overhears his Scoia’tael gossiping about the legend and comes to an abrupt realization that Roche and him were the ones they were hearing. Oops?

Standalone Fics

Letters

This is kind of a bittersweet WiP that I mostly wrote in one go and then went to sleep and kinda lost the will for it. BUT the premise is that post-Witcher 3 Roche is in charge of Temeria and his brooding is interrupted when he receives a letter sealed with a forget me not pressed into wax. Iorveth continues to send letters describing his life as a “civilian” in Nilfgaard and how much he hates it and Roche relates a little bit too much. Then Iorveth decides to run away and live on the streets as a musician and he might inspire Roche to start learning the cello and presumably at some point, they meet.

Identity Porn

Iorveth and Roche have a meet cute in Flotsam’s tavern while the elf is listening in for local gossip and Roche is passing through on his way to meet with the other northern kings to get support in fighting against the new emerging threat of the Scoia’tael. Neither knows who the other is, but that doesn’t stop them from starting a relationship where they meet every time Roche passes through Flotsam. But their house of cards can only last so long, and at some point, they will meet as enemies. Who knows what happens then? idk, not me.

Gwent pinup calendar aka Cards Out for Your Country

Hahaha, so I started this series in response to some WONDERFUL art of Roche with his Tits Out For Temeria. And obviously we need more of that, so I created a list of 24 characters who are asked to pose for some pinup art, all in the name of Gwent. So far, I’ve only finished Dandelion’s pose/the introduction, but I do plan to do as many of them as I physically can.

Gwent Game in Corvo Bianco

Wow, I didn’t even remember this WiP, so uh... clearly I haven’t worked on it in a while. But it’s Iorveth’s POV of how surprisingly comfortable he is in Corvo Bianco and Iorveth and Geralt get drunk and play gwent.

Zoltan/Jaskier/Priscilla

A giftfic for Wibbly that involves Zoltan being sappy about his bards and then Priscilla dominates them. Featuring all my headcanons about dwarven genitalia (two holes, one with a retractible dick).

Dijkstra fics

Noticing Roche’s Fucked Up Relationship

Anyone else randomly finding themselves shipping Dijkstra/Roche? No? Ah well. For this one Dijkstra observes Roche and sees a few too many reminders of himself with Vizimir, except Foltest is no Vizimir, and Roche clearly hasn’t learned to set up boundaries. Dijkstra feels weirdly compelled to help him figure that out before Foltest destroys him.

Developing Respect Fic

Also known as “let’s torture Roche 1.0!” This fic switches between the present, where Roche has woken up in a cell somewhere unknown and it brings back far too many memories for him to be entirely sure of what is happening when. In the past, he was captured by Redania while on a mission for Foltest, long before he was anyone notable. Dijkstra comes to visit, curious about this prisoner who refuses to break, to even tell them his name or confirm his country (but he has a Temerian tramp stamp, so they know lmao). So Dijkstra decides that this is not a man who will be broken through torture and decides to try conversation instead. The idea is to show them slowly gaining respect for each other, but like, obviously Roche is still a prisoner. Eventually, he’s returned to Temeria in a prisoner exchange, but meanwhile, in the present, Roche is all alone, with not even guards around and no way to free himself.

and that’s all!! I am... legitimately scared to count, tbh. This post is so fucking long, the number cannot be good for my heart. But, that said, please come talk to me about any ideas you find interesting!! Or anything you have questions about!

And if you made it this far down the list... wow. Thank you, you rock.

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #the witcher #don't cry for me temeria #wip wednesday #my fics #WiPs #yeah it's not wednesday but whatever i finished the list

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starryfreckles · 4 years

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✨ten questions✨

thank you for tagging me fae, grey, and sarah 💛this is three sets of questions so buckle in, this is going to be a long ass post lol but their questions are so good !! i couldnt not respond 🥰grab yourself something to drink, its a whole lot about me... 30 questions about me actually lol

from la twin @fvae ✨

#1 If you were a fruit, what fruit would you be ?

a mirabelle. its a mix between an apricot and a plum thats from france and maybe other parts of western europe idk 🤷‍♀️

#2 Free space!! Rant about whatever you’d like

thanks queen, what will i talk about today ?? ooh i know ok not so much a rant but im currently listening to harry potter and the goblet of fire audiobook becuase i wanted to read the stories again. this one is probs one of my favs and so much got left out in the film like DOBBY’S FUCKING ROLE IN IT ! also just the beginning when dudley is on his diet and harry has a fucking stash of food in his room and the weasley’s coming to get him. theres so much more to the story and i know they cant fit the 450 page book into a 2 hour movie but those details are so important for me. theyre part of the world building and we all know im a sucker for world building and character dev. like hell yea storytelling !! but just the wizarding world in general is my pride and joy and means the actual world to me 🥺 also after this one imma listen to order of pheonix becuase SOOOOO many details were left out in that movie and wowow best book but like highkey worst film... ((maybe thats the rant part of this lolol ok this was def a rant LMAOOO)) ok but its a really good one and i just wanted to be in that world again 🥺🥺

#3 If I were to visit your country right now, where would you take me ? What places should I visit ?

right, youd be coming to the southern west coast of the US. if covid wasnt a thing we’d go to a bunch of museums but ART, we are artists 🥰we’d also go to all the open air malls which are super cool and just fun to walk around and window shop. theres the beach for like beachy things lol, more touristy things. but theres also the mountains for hiking and being one with nature. there are a few observatories and telescopes within 2 hour roadtrips and those are cool becuase SPACE and just their location on top of super cool mountains for all the views you could ever want.

#4 If you came with a label, what would it say ?

« not what you’d expect » or « beware of typos »

#5 If your life was a book, that title would you give this chapter of your life ?

oooh so i this chapter of my life closing soon ((RIP ME)) but i think id be called something like « what do i make ? » or « finding my voice »

#6 What is your stereotype in your friend group ?

oh lordy, im like a mom friend ((hi tasfia if youre reading this lol)), the super organised one that plans things lmaooo

#7 What’s your spirit animal ?

Im an owl or a fox lets be realll

#8 What’s the most unexplainable thing that’s ever happened to you? Does it still happen ?

lol not to get deep and sad but the amount of friends i have somehow managed to push away and lose... uhhh yea it does... im not good with relationships 😔sigh

#9 What’s your favourite word and it’s meaning ?

extraordinary - adj very unusual or remarkable.

if you break the word down to its compoun words : « extra » and « ordinary » to me its almost as if it should mean something that is incredibly plain but its not, its quite the opposite of that.

#10 What was something that made you smile this past week ?

i had a bunch of convos with my irl friend and coworker ((about wtfock LOLOLOL and just getting her to start watching skam lol)) that were super hilarious and just really nice 🥰

from @stoffans 🌸

#1 What would be the most fitting for you: the sun, the moon or the stars?

I think the moon. it has phases of lightness and darkness...

#2 Where have you felt incredibly out of place?

literally any party or group of people greater than three. im an incredible shy person around people i do not know very well and just sit there awkwardly...

#3 What are the moments in life that make you realise life isn’t all that bad?

when im out with my closest friends or when im making my creative work

#4 Which song makes you feel like you’re floating on a cloud?

visions of gideon by sufjan stevens its so soft and relaxing

#5 Sunset or sunrise?

seeing as im not usually awake fro sunrise lol, imma have to say sunset. i used to live near the beach when i still physically went to uni ((rip covid)) and man those colours and seeing the sun dip into the oceans wowow

#6 Do you like it when people do stuff for you without telling you?

i love that kind of stuff, im an acts of service kind of person and just the little things to show that they thought of me just gets me tbh

#7 Did you ever cheat on your tests in school?

uuhh nei, im a good student 😭

#8 Could you take care of a plant or would it die instantly?

i always had plants in my uni room, they did great 💛

#9 Do you think you’re a difficult person?

emotionally yes, i cant describe what im feeling and im terrible with words in difficult conversations... other than that, im the most indecisive person youll ever meet and pretty easy going.

#10 Give me one word to describe yourself

anticipatory or thoughtful. i guess these two kind go together but i like play out different outcomes in different scenarios and anticipate so much...

from @grey-mist-exist 🍂 ((you tagged me on my main but i wanted to put them all together, i hope you dont mine 💛))

#1 Does your current means of transportation (car/bike/etc.) have a name? What is it?

uhhh so i havent been in a car in about a month soooo imma say my rolly desk chair that i use to zip around me room lol. its from IKEA and its called sporren

#2 If you could learn a language over-night, what language would you choose and why?

ahhh id learn norwegian ngl, dutch is close second. OORRR i stick to my roots and learn vietnamese 🤨 hmmm idkkk there are many languages i would love to learn 😭

#3 If you were an article of clothing, what would you want to be?

id be a jumper, to keep people warm and cozy

#4 You get teleported into a childhood fairy tale / folk story- what tale is it?

peter pan 🥰🥰🥰 my main’s user is enough i think lol

#5 You get the choice between time-travel or travelling to a parallel universe (but only being able to travel one time). Which do you choose?

parallel universe. i want to see how another me is getting on in life. what happens if my parents never moved us out of france 🥺

#6 Sun, moon, stars, or other? Why?

the stars are so interesting and mysterious

#7 If you were a path, what type of path would you be (concrete, cobblestone, dirt road, highway, asphalt, etc.)?

red brick. for the aesthetic lol

#8 How do you know when you’re in love?

i get butterflies in my stomach and my heart drops when they walk in

#9 What is your cellphone wallpaper?

bb fae look ((you already knew this was it but 💛💛))

✨🌸💛✨🌸💛this lovely piece of art of my bb is by @jensrolt go check out all her other art, its always the cutest thing ever ✨🌸💛✨🌸💛

#10 If you could instantly become an expert in something, what would it be?

expert of molecular cuisine pls. i love cooking and food. that kind of science fascinates me

#we did it yall!#these were so nice !!!#i love you merci #this was fun #but so so long #i have no idea what my questions would be tbh so enjoy my answers 💛💛#tagged #about me #personal #not skam

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years

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The Miys, Ch. 62

Thank you, everyone, for bearing with me on the delays for this chapter. There was a benefit: @satan-parisienne got to beta the chapter, AND our other sister got caught up all the way in the meantime.

Right now, I’m at 463 followers. As soon as I hit 500, do we want to do another character contest, or Name the Colony?? I am honestly dying to have all of you name the Colony... I feel like it would make you ALL crew-members of the Ark!

Same warning as always: this is a plague arc, so there are several references to medical procedures.

“There has to be a correlation.”

It was the first thing I heard as I woke up from yet another episode of passing out. Once again, I had been wandering a dream version of the Ark, complete with ever changing levels of dereliction. No matter how hard I tried, I was unable to speak with the Else again, however, and if the Council asked anyone else to even try, no one had informed me.

Blearily, I glanced toward the voice that I had heard. Grey’s hair was ruffled in every direction, as though they had run their hands through it repeatedly. Antoine was asleep, a tube trailing away from a bandage on his arm – I wasn’t the only one in the room needing transfusions anymore. Maverick and Conor were berthed on either side of me, blotches taunting me from the skin around their eyes. Tears pricked at my eyes as I tried to steady my breath before speaking. “How long have you been at it, Grey?”

With a sigh they turned toward me, forcing a kind smile on their face. “Sophia. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m living in a horror movie. Again,” I groaned. “But seriously. Are the shadows because you’ve been working too much, or are you sick, too?”

“Medical scans only show slightly decreased iron levels from my baseline,” Grey admitted. “But that could also be related to standing and running tests for the last twelve hours.”

I tapped the space beside me in my berth. “Sit down for a minute. Take a break. You know as well as I do that wearing yourself out is counterproductive.” With great reluctance, they folded themselves to sit beside me. “You’re stressed out, aren’t you?” I asked, tapping their fingers gently.

The smile this time was reluctant but genuine. “People are falling ill all over the ship. I have been trying to find a connection – some common activity that they all may have come into contact with each other during.”

“There’s the Food Festival,” I pointed out.

“Very few Terran viruses have such a long gestation period,” Grey explained. “And those that do, have a much different set of symptoms. Additionally, in a setting this small, there are precious the majority of the ship do not share.”

“And you have the problem with the platforms,” I realized ruefully before glancing at my partners.

Cool fingers tapped my cheek. “That issue can wait,” Grey admonished gently. “It is not as important as the health of the people on this ship.”

“Speaking of…” I tried to prop myself up on my elbows, but a pointed look from my friend – as effective as any of Tyche’s glares – had me surrendering to leaning back on the pillows again. “Is there anyone on the ship who isn’t sick so far?”

Grey nodded with a grimace. “The number of those not affected numbers in the low double digits, unfortunately.”

“What do they have in common?”

“Hermits, every last one,” a voice announced quietly as the door hissed open. “And that’s saying something, coming from me.” A tantalizing smell wafted over, setting my mouth and eyes watering as Tyche grinned like the cat who got the cream. She shoved a forkful of something deep reddish brown into her mouth and moaned. “Phaal curry with scotch bonnets. Why didn’t you tell me about this stuff, Soph?”

“Noah is going to kill you if he comes in here,” I warned. “They have officially deemed that a biohazard.”

Grey winced. “I feel I should deem that a biohazard. How are you eating that? Where did you even find it?”

“Four menus deep in my sister’s food console when I stopped in to water the plants,” she explained around yet another mouthful. “I warned Noah I have it, and they promised to wait for the scrubbers to clear the room before they come in here.”

“Give me a bite and I won’t complain,” I wheedled. Noah never let me take that stuff out of my quarters. “And tell me what you mean by hermits?”

Obligingly, she sauntered over and held out a forkful of nuclear-spicy lamb as she clarified. “The few people who aren’t sick are the ones who haven’t left their quarters since arriving. They make me and Derek look downright outgoing.”

“Wait,” I sputtered as sweat beaded and started to drip from my quickly-numbing face. “They haven’t left their quarters in over a year?”

“Nope,” she confirmed. “They contribute, but all of it is remotely. Programming, online tutoring, that sort of thing.”

“Well, that tells us a great deal of nothing,” I sighed. “We can’t even narrow down what activities they haven’t participated in, because they haven’t participated in any.”

“So go the other route,” she shrugged. “Who is the most sick?”

“Nixe,” Grey and I answered in unison. Our resident mermaid was still holding on, but she hadn’t regained consciousness yet.

“Wait,” I interjected as I realized something. I squinted at my sister. “Your symptoms showed up before Antoine’s. How come you’re up, bouncing around?”

“You kidding?” she cocked an eyebrow at me. “Soph. I’ve lived most of my life with sever anemia. Even now I probably have more in my body than I ever did back on Earth. I feel amazing, by comparison.”

“She also has a habitually high-iron diet,” Grey added, tilting their head and glancing at me. “Current comestibles notwithstanding.”

“That makes sense,” I conceded. “So we can’t even build a timeline around onset of symptoms, can we?”

“Negative. Several people on the ship have high-iron diets for various reasons. Particularly your sister and Maverick.”

I rolled my head to left and squinted. “Really? He’s one of the pickiest eaters I know.”

“Spinach, tofu, red meat,” they started ticking off on their fingers. “Lentils and other legumes, pumpkin seeds, broccoli, and organ meats are among the foods with the highest iron content.”

My eyes widened. “You practically listed Maverick’s entire diet, Grey.”

“I am well aware. I do monitor his nutrition closely, as he still has to prove he has consumed sufficient healthy calories in order to start his daily shift.”

“Huh,” I grunted. “So, he could have been sick the longest and we are just now seeing it?”

“While I highly doubt it, your theory is somewhat correct.”

“Weh di’ oo geh ‘im oo ee ohgah mee?” Tyche asked delicately around the last of her curry.

“Conor likes kidney pie, black pudding, and liver with onions,” I explained, trying not to wince at my sister’s breathtaking lack of manners and reminding myself that she just found out she can eat food she only dreamed of trying in the past.

She gulped, a look of revulsion on her face. “Liver and onions? That’s disgusting.”

As Grey completely lost their composure and gaped openly at the statement, I shrugged and soldiered on. “Not my idea of a good time, either, but they like it, so it’s their bonding time.”

“Surely not all three at once?”

“Christ, no. I would kill them if they ate kidney pie without me.”

“Okay, just checking.” Tyche made her way to a disposal and made Noah aware that the curry had vacated the premises.

By this point, Grey was absentmindedly scratching at the rash that appeared from simply being near the dish. “Can one of you explain to me how someone even eats something like that? My eyes are burning just from being near food that spicy?”

“Ask her,” Tyche gestured. “I’m still figuring this out.”

I scowled at being put on the spot before turning to our friend. “I’ve always loved spicy food,” I admitted. “And I’ve never had any digestive issues with it. As I got older, I tried spicier and spicier food. It’s all so – vibrant. So full of flavor. Sure, you have some stuff that is just spicy for the sake of being painful, and I hate that kind of food. It’s just hate and spite made into food. No one should do that.” I sighed, struggling with my words. “Most spicy foods are ethnic foods, and I always liked being able to enjoy the ‘full’ version, for lack of a better term. Being able to go to any country and say ‘I want to eat this the way you eat it,’ and mean that. It just opens so many doors.”

“And it isn’t just spicy food,” Tyche pitched in. “She found this old show once, where this guy went around the world and tried weird native foods, and that was always her dream. Every chance she got to travel like that, she tried the weirdest, most disgusting foods she could, just because she knew she wouldn’t get sick.”

“What was the worst?” Grey asked. When we looked at each other in doubt, they laughed quietly. “It helps me get my mind off of all this.” They waved vaguely at the lab equipment. “So, tell me. I never got to travel much before this. I would like to hear.”

“Well,” I started hesitantly. “I only managed to choke down one bite of balut, but that may be more squeamish heart than squeamish stomach. Anything involving hard fat or cartilage is just right out, sorry. I can’t get past the texture. Once I got past the smell, durian was actually pretty good. Most bugs are really nutty and delicious, surprisingly. Balut was probably the one I liked the least. But – “ I held up my hands in a defensive posture. “I literally don’t remember what it tasted like, I couldn’t get my mind past the thought of what I was eating, so take that for what you will.”

Grey paled slightly as they looked the dish up on their datapad. “People eat that?”

Tyche nodded. “Yep. I don’t get it either, but it’s a delicacy.”

They paled further as they looked up other dishes and confirmed I had tried them. “How did you not get ill?”

“Cast iron stomach,” Tyche and I explained, laughing at ourselves for responding in synch.

“Cast iron stomach, indeed,” they murmured. Suddenly, their head snapped up. They stared intently at the wall behind me before squinting slightly. “Cast iron…”

Without explanation, Grey jumped up from my berth, brushing past my sister on their way to the lab equipment. “Iron. Whatever we are looking for is impacting iron absorption and red blood cell function. – “ Tyche and I looked at each other in confusion as Grey continued their impression of a rambling mad-scientist. “But nutritive iron does have elemental iron as part of the molecule…” Images flickered around the researcher as they scanned through notes and images; expanding this one, discarding that one, squinting at a few. “What if we are segregating the two for no reason… bacteria are bacteria, and the tail failed, too.”

The tail failed? Tyche mouthed at me. I shrugged, lost as she was. We stared on in concern as Grey muttered, only half-audibly, into the night.

<< Prev Masterlist Next >>

#the miys #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #aliens #science fiction #original writing #original fiction #apocalypse

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thisartofeveryday · 4 years

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For those of you who thought I should make my life story into a book…here is the outline. For the sake of clarity as you are reading, let me explain who the characters are. The kids from my Dads first marriage: Jim1, Patty, Seana. The kids from my Mom’s (Mary Ellen) first marriage: Mary Jane and Jim2. My brother that I am a full sibling to is Charles (chuck).

I think you might know that 95% of our lives are lived from the unconscious mind. From birth to age 7 a childs mind is in Theta wave (hypnosis) and everything that they learn in those years (mainly through observation and repetition) is the program that their minds run for their entire lives. Knowing this – I look back on the first 7 years of my life.

I think we moved 7 times in those 7 years. I am certain it was because of Dads extreme anger management problems and the fact that he is a sociopath, a pedophile and a rapist. Zero stability or chance to make lasting friendships. My dad was sexually abusing me and unpredictably violent. I was terrified of him. I was being terrorized/bullied by my brother, Chuck, who was every bit the sociopath that my dad is. My mom was overwhelmed by the number of children she was responsible for - none of which she actually wanted- and add to that, her husband was sexualizing all of the kids, so really being the last of her kids I was the last of her problems. Being the youngest (and as traumatized as I was), I was quiet and easy to forget about or push to the side. The older kids were the ones in the spotlight and where all the attention went. They were enrolled in activities and they were more the same age, so they were a unit. I was just an observer of them. I felt so left out and forgotten. Always.

I was a mistake and a burden (dads exact words to me on my 11th birthday). Mom made sure I knew that she thought I was mentally retarded- she would joke about it all the time. (I guess she never made peace with her sister being autistic) She also loved humiliating me even when I made it clear she was hurting me. Remember her sausage fingers joke or how many years I got called Boomer? I absolutely hated both of those things, made it clear, and yet she refused to give up the name calling and humiliation. There was very little respect for my personal boundaries. Dad would assault me in the middle of the night and I would wet the bed out of fear- then he would make me sleep in it to teach me a lesson. Mom would do nothing to help me, though she was awake in the middle of the night when I would work up the courage to go into their room to ask for help. She let him treat me like that. Goddamn…I remember the night terrors and being scared to be in my room at night because the scary man was sitting in the rocking chair, in the dark, next to my bed.

I have a memory of being in the garage in our house in South Windsor. I was playing with our basset hound, General…I was crawling around on the floor and the dog mounted me and was dry humping me. Dad got this sick laugh and let it happen. Mom walked in and got mad at him, but did nothing to help me. My personal boundaries were nonexistent. Nobody was protecting me from him. I remember him eating the food off my plate at dinner…or kissing me on the ear or touching me when I would tell him I hated it and to stop. I remember the baths dad would have me take with him and how he taught me to touch and work his dick. I remember the photos he would take of me after the bath. I remember being 7 years old and trying to lay on his bed and be sexy enough for him. I remember kissing mom passionately the way that dad taught me to and mom getting upset and asking me where I learned that. I remember having a baby doll that I drew all over, angrily, with lipstick. I remember being scared because my ass was bleeding and I told mom while her brother and sisters were visiting and she shushed me and scurried me away. I remember him also beating the shit out of me…sometimes for no reason. I remember being deeply attracted to and absolutely terrified of him. I was 7. These are the only memories I have of my dad. I don’t remember him being there for me, or interested in me as a person, or engaged in anyway. I just remember him being what I now know is a predator.

7 to 13: I remember some stability in Connecticut because we stayed there for three years… but I also remember having moments of being deeply depressed and hiding in the basement of the house writing notes that I hoped someone would find, asking for help to get me out of there. When I look back, those were my first experiences with disassociation from stress and waves of major depression. While I was being assaulted during those years, those years were all about Mary Jane, Seana, and Jim2. These three had each other. These three were a team. I was just an observer to your lives. I had no voice, no opinion, no importance, never truly included and absolutely my feelings went unheard and did not matter. We can say it was the age difference, sure, that’s part of it…but that’s also just an excuse. Things could have been done to validate my importance too. I had Charles bullying me….I had my Dad assaulting me. I was so alone.

My internal voice wants to shout: Why did nobody see this? Why did nobody help me? Where were my siblings? I guess everyone was doing the best they could…

Literally anyone looking in knowing the truth could have easily assessed that this was a horribly destructive environment for any child to grow up in. I know dad was doing this to all the kids. I wasn’t the only one. It is absolutely stunning to me that through the years of my life I have consistently been blamed by my Mary Ellen (narcissist/borderline personality disorder) and the people who chose to listen to her twisted opinions that there was something wrong WITH ME. I mean, logically the mental health issues I have faced my entire life are perfectly normal and healthy reactions to a situation that was deeply flawed. But somehow the blame has always fallen on me.

The very first thing I think when I think of my mom is her asking me “Whats wrong with you Melissa”. Ive lost count of how many times she has asked me that very question.

I now know that its just deflection. Queen Narcissist cant take responsibility for her actions so she puts it on the person who she always denied a voice. That’s nice. Very loving and motherly. Doesn’t fix the 40 some odd years of my life that I believed her and wanted to die.

Right around age 9 or 10, we move again. I remember it being a big scandal – I think the truth came about that my dad is a sociopath, a pedophile and a rapist. (By the way, that’s in my DNA. I get to live my life connected to that. I look just like my dad. I think like a Painter. It’s fucking unsettling.) I remember all the pressure to say nothing about the move and to constantly behave as though we were the perfect family and nothing was wrong. So incredibly demented.

I remember a HUGE fight about Seana and Jim2 staying behind in Connecticut. (by the way: I also remember Jim1 leaving for the Marines and wondering where my brother went and why he never talked to me. At one point he came back to visit and gave me a beautiful geisha doll in a glass box that mom destroyed in a fit of anger at me…she intentionally violently knocked it off the top of my dresser in one of her vindictive off the handle rages…Im sure at 8 years old I totally did something to deserve it, right.)

And, of course I remember the night Seana was killed. (why did the man that killed her not serve jail time? Why are bad people never held accountable?) Dad wasn’t there. Again, Dad wasn’t there. As I recall he was having an affair with some woman in Arizona? Mom was already distraught to be back in Michigan. That night, I remember being awake before the call came in…watching the clock radio in my bed… it had a short in the wire that would spark. I was listening to the Beatles: My guitar gently weeps…. To this day, I hate the Beatles.The phone rang. Mom screamed to you “Mary Jane, OMG, Seana is Dead”. I didn’t understand what happened. I just knew we were packing up like we did so many times before to take yet another long drive across country. It felt to me like another move. I didn’t understand death or that my sister was gone forever. I didn’t get it.

(an aside: I struggled in school. When I was in Beginning Algebra One for some reason that class would make me check out and I would always soul travel to the night Seana was killed and it felt like it was happening to me. I took that class 4 times including summer school before I passed.)

(later, when I was maybe 13, my dog got hit by a car in the street and now I knew what death was so I freaked out like Mom did when Seana died and I remember Mom shaming me: You cried more over than damn dog than you did at your sisters funeral. Very nice. Very motherly. Very supportive and kind of her.)

At Seanas funeral, I remember not knowing what was expected of me. I was just so focused on getting it right and who I was supposed to kiss (because that sexualized stuff was already so ingrained).

There were so many goddamn rules for behavior, (rich white republican ex-military country club going family that we were) and I remember getting it wrong and being scowled at all the time. Mom was always angry and stressed out. We had to BE someone and over and over again: “Don’t forget the family name” and how important our clan was (hilarious that she kept the Sterling last name because her current husband is too ethnic and this sounds classier to her than her own actual last name)….

Meanwhile, My developing sense of self was being assaulted and neglected/ignored out of me and I felt wrong all the time for every single action I took.

I think we moved back to North Carolina briefly and then to Florida? Whatever the case….

Then we move again. Again. Again. Now we are in Florida. Im 10. My parents are getting divorced. Mom is deeply goddamn depressed. My family is falling apart. I don’t know where my brothers and sister are. Everything is exploding. Im powerless and hostage to all this. I cannot underline the importance of that sense of being hostage to a situation that I was powerless to escape and having my feelings and my personhood completely ignored and erased. It consumed me. I wanted to die. I am, as always, the least of moms concerns.

In Florida I was so incredibly dissociative. I was experiencing C-PTSD. I remember feeling numb all over. Having no ability to react to this little girl that fell off her bike in front of me….I just stared at her…the adults nearby yelled at me for doing nothing. I went further into my head. I was so checked out. People just thought I was quiet or shy or retarded. I was deeply traumatized and needed help.

I remember Mary Jane and I sitting on the bed watching this music video by The Cars. In the video there is a woman who is laughing and crying. I remember asking MJ what she was doing because I do that too and I think she told me she was having a mental break down.

I remember getting a Walkman and listening to the Police nonstop. That was my only retreat from how much I hurt. WHY DID NOBODY SEE THIS AND HELP ME?

I remember during that time that I was given another baby doll. I remember MJ and mom watching me play with it to see what I would do. I felt scared of them both and the creepy way they were lurking to watch me. I felt ganged up on. I couldn’t trust anyone. I was so alone. I wanted to die.

In Florida, I remember my birthday and dad cocking his fist back like he was going to punch me in the face…he did that sick laugh and told me he wished I was never born and that I was a mistake. (later when I told this to Patty she explained he punched her in the face on her 11th birthday. Im related to all that. That’s in my dna.)

My body was changing. I was getting my period. I felt crazy. I was in that HUGE school in Jacksonville and I had no friends and I was so scared. Everything was terrifying….and Dad was getting more unhinged thus Mom has Jim and Lynn move in to protect her and had you come back… and then I remember walking in to the living room in the middle of a sunny afternoon and mom on the pull out sofa, trying to make dad jealous, was fucking the guy who was there to buy the house that we had just moved in to because we were MOVING AGAIN….

Not to mention, I remember MJ and I quickly taking Dads gun to the beach to bury it so he because he wanted to kill us all.

Im not even 13 yet….. Are you exhausted?

Any one of these things would make a fully functioning stable adult fold like a house of cards. “Whats wrong with you Melissa?”…. It took something like 20 years of therapy but now I have some clues to answer that question. Here are some more clues:

We finally make it to Boone. Mom followed her best friend, Mary Jane. After all that… that incredible pressure cooker of my pre teen childhood we arrive in bumfuck nowhere, North Carolina….and everyone is gone except the sociopath brother. The house is basically empty. Everyone abandoned ship. Where did my brothers and sisters go? I remember coming home after school and there would be nobody home. For my entire life I had come home to my family but now there was no one. I would sit on the couch and watch the clock with growing anxiety and cry until mom came home from work. It was beyond torturous. And then she would be pissed off that I needed her because she just got home from work. At this point Mom is just angry and exhausted all the time. She had to get a job outside the home for the first time in her life which she hated, she was sick of being a mom…she wanted it all to be over so she could have HER life. Charles was getting more and more abusive- physically and mentally and had to be sent away for our protection.

And then she starts dating Don Bailey. I think the sex must have been amazing because the guy was an utter low life. He was living off of her/my child support money… and beating the shit out of her. Their fights were never goddamn ending. I would hide in my room after school and not come out. I was so alone. I had no friends and no escape. Mom was friends with Mary Jane, not with me. Mom wanted nothing to do with me. One day we were driving home and I was so attached to her. I needed my mom so goddamn bad… I was struggling to make friends at yet another new school and the PTSD made me feel so distant from everyone but I had no words for what was wrong with me I just thought I was terrible at making friends (I remember this: pathetically I checked out a book at the library: How to be your own best friend)… She pulled the car over and told me “we cant be friends.” Mom has some glorified memory of us driving around looking for our favorite tree in Autumn… the only thing I remember is that conversation…her rejecting me when I needed her the most… after we moved to the town my sister lived in so she could be close to her.

Again, still no help with the major depression, the CPTSD… just a lot of blame “why cant you be happy Melissa…whats wrong with you?” and I cant be clear enough about this: all her spare time at home was spent on Don, not me. I didn’t have clubs and groups and activities that she as sure to enroll me in. I didn’t have my brothers and sisters there with me. It was just me, after all that, trying to figure it out.

I was a burden to her. She couldn’t wait to get rid of me and be done. I felt it always.

An aside: When she was unsure if she wanted to stay in Boone, I remember her asking Charles if we should stay or go back to Florida…after he chimed in with his answer, I gave my opinion which she angrily scoffed at me and told me it didn’t matter what I thought, Id go where they tell me to go. My voice didn’t matter, I was a burden to her. I had no value as a person. I was powerless. So there I was in my bedroom that was the walkway between the living room and her room… at the mercy of whatever happened with no privacy or power over my life….. whats new.

Another aside: During that time we had gotten a dog that was a total pain in the ass for her to take care of. She gave it away while I was at school. I came home and the dog was gone and I was tearful thinking it ran away. She gave my dog away without telling me.

Then we moved out to Valley Crusis (9 miles outside of town…so isolated. I was so alone. The isolation was killing me. Where were my siblings. I needed help. I needed someone who was just there for me.) and Dons abusive behavior got even more extreme. I remember him picking me up from a concert that I was at….because he had sent Mom to the hospital with a sprained wrist and a busted lip. He was laughing about it when he told me to get in the car. Another time I remember Don looming in my bedroom door when Mom was at work and it was just us in the house… telling me: “Go ahead and call the police, nobody will believe you anyway.” I remember the woman who lived up the hill from us, with the curly hair…I think her name was Susan… coming down to the house while Mom and Don were gone and telling me If it ever gets too bad, you can always run up here. The neighbors knew I needed help. Where were my brothers and sisters? Where was my Mom? FUCK.

I remember Mom having many off the handle rages at me because I looked like a boy and my hair was crazy and I was so fucked up. I remember one morning after she had raged at me so hard that I was in stunned silence… we were sitting at breakfast at St Sinners and MJ kept looking at me, she knew something was wrong, I was clearly checked out and fucked up. I needed my sister. I had no voice or ability to speak up. I was scared of her husband, Glenn. Nobody helped me. Mom was the star of the brunch party!

I remember getting my first job at 15 and working at St Sinners…. Then, when mom bought the restaurant I stopped getting paid. She cut me off from my paycheck and told me it was my “duty to the family”… but she had Jim2 and his first wife Lynn there working and they were getting paid…and also stealing her money to fuel their coke habits. She didn’t value me, or my efforts but her golden son Jim can do no wrong even when he is fucking her out of her business.

I remember Jim2 offering me coke at a house party and John Golden and another friend getting me out of there away from my own brother. I remember Lynn being LIVID that I would stop by their house when I was lonely and wanted my family but instead I got shamed for thinking I could stop by and see them…and mom would tell me that “they had BUSY LIVES and I should leave them alone.”

I remember being so fucked up and alone in Boone….I mean, I now know I was just in shock and experiencing major depression. Mom kept asking me Whats wrong with you Melissa…when I was your age I had to choose between boyfriends… etc. Its incredible to me how Mom normalized my childhood abuse and completely erased my feelings or my personhood then blamed me for somehow being a problem child or wrong in whatever way….more incredible: people believed her.

During those years in Boone I remember her doing things like openly making fun of me when I thought I might be gay, fixing regular hamburgers and telling me they were tofu when I became vegetarian…starting a burn pile in the back yard full of toxic things after I told her how important recycling was to me and laughing at me as I cried…..every chance she had to make me feel awful about being me and disrespected she took.

Once I visited her at her office and she told me I was “too ugly to look at and she didn’t want anyone to know I was her daughter and to never come to her office again.”

Shes right, we were not friends. She was a jealous mean girl, obsessed with appearances and her shitty boyfriend.

Lets not forget when she, with Mary Janes help, stacked my portfolio with MJs lithographies and coached me how to lie to get me in to Governors school for the summer. She wanted me gone and she got her wish. I remember feeling like a fraud that summer. I wasn’t good enough to be there. I had to lie to be included. I remember she didn’t even drive me there. She had Don do it. He harassed me in the car all the way there, 3 hours…. then dropped me…16… off on the curb in front of the college and drove away. All the other kids had parents excitedly helping them get set up in their rooms…excited about their major accomplishment of getting in to Governors school… I was there with my milk crate of shit, a fraud. alone. Acting like a tough girl who didn’t need anyone. I was a pro at that. Mission accomplished, she was rid of me.

I remember how deep my depression was becoming by the time I was 18. That last year of high school I would bang my head against my bedroom wall in an attempt to knock myself out, in hopes that I would get sent away to a treatment center or something. I couldn’t take all the fighting between her and Don. I fucking hated him and he was in my house and there was nothing I could do about it. I tried to throw myself down the back stairwell at school. I barely graduated high school my depression was eating me alive.

Amazing that nobody IN MY FAMILY SAW THAT I NEEDED HELP. I was invisible. Mary Ellen cast her proclamation that all was well, she was amazing and I was a problem child and that was that.

I have a million stories about Mom demoralizing me during those years…. Whats weird is that I have no memory of my Mary Jane there. I think she was so involved with Glenn and way up the mountain, I had no way to reach her. And I was scared of her husband Glenn. And, we were never close. And, she was Team Mary Ellen…. So I was just alone and wanted to die. Sincerely. Goddamn. Let it end.

I remember Don telling me that Mom was using my child support payment to make her car payment. So I asked her about where my child support was going and she told me she used it for my Blue Cross Blue Shield Insurance…. So I called the insurance company to see if I had coverage…. They had no record of me. She was, again, a liar….

When I graduated high school she couldn’t get me out of the house fast enough. She pawned me off on my boyfriend Gebeaux and expected him to simply take care of me. We broke up. He didn’t sign up for that. I was basically kicked out of the house in valley crusis. I wasn’t prepared for life on my own. I wasn’t ready. She just wanted to be done being a mom so Hey..I came back to the house one day and all my stuff was packed and that was that. I had to figure it out. Fuck me.

At one point during that time I was living in a trailer with my friend Stacy. Mom was horrified about this. I was getting food stamps and she was so ashamed of me for being so low class. She came to the trailer and was completely off the handle. She said there was “no air” in there and grabbed a 2x4 and smashed out all the windows. Mind you from her perspective it was just another example of what a loser I am, living in a trailer on food stamps how did I end up such a piece of shit when she is such a wonderful mother… it must be because there is something inherently wrong about me.

She has seen me as trash who is incapable of being anything great my entire life.

Somewhere in there she stopped dating Don and started dating lawyer Rand Sterling…who broke her ribs multiple times and literally pushed her out of a moving car and then she walked 5 miles back to his house to be with him. That relationship took her to Texas. She followed the money. The insanity of that relationship is all I heard about from her. She needed Jim2 to come protect her from her husband multiple times. I absorbed all of this through her very rare but insane emails to me. She has always used me as her emotional manipulation dumping ground.

I had my first total mental break right around 19 years old. I was fetal position on the floor at my girlfriends house… Jenn… I couldn’t stop crying for multiple days and I felt my mind split in two. I literally went into a black hole and was begging for death. Jenn and the next door neighbor scooped me up off the floor and drove me to the Watauga County Mental Health and got me some help… but at this point I was having a total mental collapse… the part of me that was traumatized was a child denied her voice or any recognition of her Self, so I had no way to articulate what was wrong and Mom had denied and normalized the abuse and denied me voice and my personhood for so long that I had ZERO chance of articulating what was wrong… it was buried so deep inside of me and I was so scared to trust anyone…. I was experiencing schizophrenia and Major depression.

Jenn helped me with my depression. Jenn made sure I was housed and fed. Jenn took care of me. I owe her my life.

I mean, that is an extreme mental health episode. Where was my family? How could none of the people who were supposed to love me the most see any of this? Why did none of them help me? Why did all of them think I was to blame? (my guess: Team Mary Ellen)

Somewhere in that year my friends were moving to Chapel Hill so I packed up the car that my child support paid for and I went down the mountain. She threatened to call the police on me for stealing the car. She told me I needed discipline and needed to go into the Army. She just didn’t know what to do with me…such a problem child. If I remember correctly, you echoed her sentiments. Everyone was always so angry at me for being so wrong and so bad. None of my family (meaning MJ and mom because my brothers had long bailed on me and my extended family has never made a single attempt to reach out to me or know me at all.) were my friend, or loving, kind or compassionate.

I got away….I went to Chapel Hill and lived with my best friends Kerry, Lesley, Julie, and two other guys in Kerry’s Moms rental house. I was working at the Columbia Street Bakery and dating this boy, Richard…. Who happened to be a really abusive drug dealer… who held me down one night and violently orally raped me and when I called mom for help she told me with the exasperation of a mother who had supposedly tried so hard to do the right thing and raise her child with love and support but that child was just tragic and terminally fucked :

“I don’t know whats wrong with you Melissa, I guess you just like the bad boys.”

Again, no self reflection on her behalf…she did nothing to help me.

I didn’t know how to get away from Richard who was playing mind fuck with me and I was getting high with him (LSD) …which was basically, me being drugged and him using me for sex but not being loving or kind in any way (felt like home) Eventually, Richard got busted for selling a page of lsd to an undercover cop and threatened to kill me because he thought it was my fault… so I had to get out of there and I went to New York to chill out and work for the summer at the Omega Institute of Holistic Learning… to just be around hippies and eat good food. I hung out with Baba Ram Dass and Ben & Jerry…and took a class on the whirling dervish… These moments when I wasn’t in the pressure cooker of my life were both brilliant because I needed healing but also the worst because all this trauma would start to surface and I didn’t know what it was or how to speak about it. I would start to shatter again.

I believed it was my fault and there was something inherently wrong with me.

I was so lost. I needed help. I needed a parent or loving compassionate family or someone trusted to guide me through that time in my life. I had no one but my friends from North Carolina who were just as fucked up as me. I needed help. I needed help. Oh my god, I needed help.

Omega ended…I had no money to get out of there, nobody to turn to for help, no clue what to do next, I certainly couldn’t go back to Mom who hated me and was living with Rand so fuck that… I had no idea where my brothers and sisters were and no relationship with them so that wasn’t on my mind as an option…..so I caught whatever ride I could get and ended up in Boulder. One of my friends from Omega hooked me up with her cousin for a month and I tried to make it work… it was basically winter in Colorado at this point and I was out there door canvassing for Green Peace making no money and freezing to death. Just walking door to door for Greenpeace… looking in on other families and their loving lives together. I was so fucking sad. I was hungry and scared and completely out of options. I had to get out of there.

I called Mom for help. She said: “You got yourself into this, get yourself out”…. And hung up on me. The bitch hung up on me. I was stranded and so scared and I needed my mom. She hung up on me. She blamed me. She wanted to punish me for being such a problem. She was done being a mom. She hung up.

I remember having gone to the Planned Parenthood to get some medical help because I was sick. I explained my situation and the nurse looked at me incredulously and said “where are you parents?” I explained to her that Mom hung up on me. I was devastated, living in a constant state of shock. Scared out of my sense of self or ability to connect to the present moment.

I was a fractured soul in every possible meaning.

My month at my friends place was over and I had to find an apartment or live on the streets. It took me another month of begging whatever guy I could find to give me a place to stay and then I contacted the boy I was dating at Omega, Scott, and asked him for money to get a bus back to North Carolina. He helped me. Bless him. He got me out of there.

I got on the Greyhound and ended up going to Idaho to visit with my friend Stacy (who I lived in the trailer with) and stay with her for a couple weeks to get grounded and feel safe with a friend for a minute. My mental break was coming back full force. I was inconsolable. I remember laying on her bed fully having an out of body experience from the stress and being so disoriented. She is so patient and kind. She took care of me. When my time with Stacy was up, the next layer of insanity: I got on the Greyhound and took a 5 day no sleep, no food journey across country. I got chased down, carrying all my bags of things and looking like a little hippie… on a layover, by a group of drunk men in Wyoming…they almost got me but I found a laundromat that was open and full of people so I ran inside and hid until my bus was leaving again. I was terrified. By the time I made it back to Lesley and Kerrys house in Chapel Hill it was New Year night…I got some hours back at the Columbia Street bakery I was working at and got some money rolling in.

I want to mention that Poverty, which I have lived most my life in, is no joke and more damaging than anyone outside of the experience can understand. It is cyclical, like bi polar…. Living paycheck to paycheck or however you get just enough to maybe hold on for a moment longer but never knowing if more will be coming is a terror. Always feeling like the bottom is going to drop out…and never knowing when youre going to eat…and what that does to your hormones and your mental health…. Poverty is proven to damage people on a cellular level and have lasting effects that lead to chronic illness.

After making it back to NC, few weeks later the boy from Omega came to Chapel Hill and told me he wanted to marry me and wanted me to move to Boston with him. So we took a little road trip and eventually ended up in Boston. As a surprise to no one sane, that was not a lasting relationship. So after a year of misery in Boston, (more poverty, more loneliness, more no family) Scott drove me back to Chapel Hill and that’s when the girls and I all moved up to Asheville. All the while, checking in with Mom who was yelling and shaming me for being such a fuck up.

I can’t underline enough: I was disassociating the entire time. I was having episodes of schizophrenia. I was experiencing major depression and bi polar disorder. The stress of my entire life was more than I could handle and I had no support and no compassion and nobody validating my experience or me as a person. People just thought that was who I was. I was just fucked in every way possible and believed she was right and all that was normal and I was a terrible piece of shit. She had everyone believing that.

Mary Jane believed her. She echoed her sentiments to me. Go Team Mary Ellen.

I moved up to Asheville and got somewhat stabilized. I was again living with my friends and I got a decent job at the Laughing Seed Cafe. I met Mark and I had decided to go to college because I thought that would make Mom happy and I needed to DO something with myself.

Mark and I were together maybe 8 weeks before we moved across country and started a life together. Eight weeks.

I was so adept at being a high functioning dissociative major depressive and I had no way to articulate what was wrong with me (all that stuff that had been normalized and ignored…all the ways my feelings and personhood was erased)… I just knew something evil bad was in me and it took me out from time to time. I thought it was my fault and I was ashamed of myself. I was living in a constant state of shock. CPTSD.

So, I get myself into college and thanks to Mark and his truck we move across country.

When I hear my friends now talking about saving money for their kids college and really setting them up for success by helping them choose a school and get settled in or making sure they don’t have to work so they can focus on their studies and have a healthy social life with friends and do activities Im so confused. I didn’t know parents and families helped their kids with such things. I didn’t understand that in other families they help, protect and support. I made it through without any of these blessings.

Mark and I get a shitty apartment (the ceiling caved in out of rot and the place was full of roaches. The property managers stole my drum set and we would catch them on the roof at night peeping through the skylight to watch us), I get a full time job managing a restaurant…in addition to schooling full time...Im overwhelmed by the workload, scared to be across country, freaked out by college and the expectations… it was too much. I was away from the source of my abuse and things started to surface… I NEEDED HELP.

I needed my family except, honestly, I have none. Additional mindfuck: when I tried to talk to people about this I get the old trope about how everyone has tough relationships in their families and I need to love my mom and work it out with her.SO I KEPT GOING BACK FOR MORE WITH MOM BECAUSE I NEEDED HER LOVE SO BAD AND I THOUGHT THE PROBLEM WAS ME. Further, because I was so regressed I just sounded like a petulant child when I tried to talk about the abuse I had no accurate words for so nobody outside the experience really got it or could conceive how bad things really were for me… why would they? My family is extraordinarily fucked up, like nobody I have ever known.

In college, nobody comes to check on me and make sure Im ok. Nobody was calling. Id get rare emails or letters. When I would tell mom how hard it was, mom would mock me and tell me to suck it up when I would reach out to her and “complain” about how things were going for me… See, because its always my fault and Im never measuring up.

An aside: To this day, 40 years later, Jim2 has yet to even send me a single email to check and make sure Im ok or get to know me at all. He has never responded to the multiple emails I have sent him, so I stopped reaching out. I used to cry to mom about it and she would tell me that he “has a busy life” and I had to understand that’s why I wasn’t a priority to him. Personally, I cant imagine anything being more important than making a connection with your little sister, but I guess Im biased and not like him: busy getting high and drunk and being a cool party guy.

During my college is when he married Lori. I worked over time and got a plane ticket to be at his wedding. I was sick to my stomach at the idea of having to be around my family but I love my brother and I wanted to be there. He ignored me the entire time I was there. I was a HUGE FUCKING DEAL that I could afford the ticket and made the effort to be there for him. I showed up for him….He ignored me. I was devastated and felt invisible and so worthless.

Another aside: I was 24 and that very first Christmas on the west coast Mom calls me, driving herself to the ER to get her stomach pumped from a suicide attempt. She was dramatically telling me her goodbye in case she didn’t make it. I was stressed and powerless beyond the telling of it. I cried all the way through that Christmas. Again: Mom always uses me as her emotional manipulation dumping ground. Out of all her children, Im the one with heart and she gets the sympathy she is working me over for.

During my college years, I would ask Mom for help she would mock me “Im sending baby Sava (MJs daughter) a care package…are you a baby? Do you need one too?”

Mean girl jealousy that I went to college and her life was taken from her by her children….

In college I had no friends, just Mark. No time for activities and my mental health was so fragile I had no ability to form friendships. I was barely hanging on. I would be catatonic in my time at home. We had this geometry screensaver on the computer and I would be frozen staring at it for hours while my brain felt like it was going to shatter. I was an absolute wreck and a shell of a person…but I was determined to prove I could graduate college and I wasn’t a fuck up. I wanted Mom to be proud of me.

I guess it should come as no surprise that after 4 years of no time off, working and schooling 80 hours a week, getting zero support emotionally or financially from my family …. that absolutely NOBODY FROM MY FAMILY CAME TO CELEBRATE ME AT MY GRADUATION.

Nobody came. Nobody celebrated me. Nobody saw the value in me or my hard work.

I remember being on the phone with Jim2 the day of my graduation. I had called him to ask why he wasn’t there for me. I was in tears. He told me that if that was the worst thing that ever happened to me, congratulations on your nice life. He thought it was bullshit that I was so upset. He thought I was being a baby. This loser dropped out of college which he had a scholarship for and did nothing with his life but drugs and alcohol and saw no value in me or what I did on my own. He didn’t show up for me.

Me going to college and graduating on time with full credits was a major fucking accomplishment on so many levels.

Not one of my family was there for me and I will never forgive or forget that.

We moved to the same fucking town Mary Jane was in when she was in college and never ONCE did anyone come to check on me and be interested in what I was doing or validate how amazing it was that I was in school and making it happen on my own.

When I talk about how alone I feel in life, its in my bones.

I had worked over time to get Mom a plane ticket so she would be there for my graduation and she called me a couple days before to tell me pathetically “She couldn’t get the day off work.” (Lie: I think she has some legal issue and couldn’t leave the state or something like that.)

After she called to bail on my graduation… at 27 years old… I had a heart attack on my walk home. I collapsed in my living room. Mark found me on the floor when he got home from work. She literally broke my heart. I was devastated. I was in shock. I was dissociating. I was so fucked up. I needed help. Poor Mark. He didn’t know what was wrong and neither did I.

Shortly after my graduation, MJ graduated and she drove to see her and was sure to tell me about it. I mean, they are BFFs so, no surprises there. GO TEAM MARY ELLEN, right?

Whats wrong with you Melissa? My family. My family is whats wrong with me.

During college I was stressed to the point of being catatonic when I wasn’t at work or school. My mental health was tanking in every possible way… but the pressure cooker of school and work kept me hemmed in and my desire to prove that I was someone worth loving (because god knows I wasn’t going to be loved just for being me…No one was simply going to show up for me or simply be there. I had to earn it.)

…. then we moved to Seattle and I had three years at Amazon in that pressure cooker of a job… (10 to 14 hours a day, 6 days a week) working as a Lead running a team of 200 people to keep me too busy to feel my feelings or connect to emerging myself.

At some point after I graduated and it no longer mattered, I remember MJ came to visit me one time. That was nice of her. Thank you for trying, MJ.

But heres the fun part: Mark. Mark loved me.

Mark is the very first and to this day ONLY person who has been intimately involved in my life who loves and respected me just as I am.

It was Mark loving me that allowed me to start developing a voice and for that very young very traumatized person inside of me to start coming to the surface. Mark was the very best thing that has ever happened to me….and, ironically, it was because he loved me that all that evil finally came to the surface…and was our demise.

All the things dad did to me, all the never ending abuse from mom that sought to vilify and demoralize me… all of the hurt from the abandonment from my brothers and sisters… all that evil came up because he Loved me enough to make me feel safe and supported…I just didn’t know that then and couldn’t see or feel that he was the most tremendous gift this life has ever given me ….

and I started sexually assaulting myself in my sleep (woke up one time with an entire box of tampons inside of me and had to go to the doctor to get them all out). I would throw punches in my sleep. I was having an utter mental breakdown/ breakthrough… and then I started acting out sexually with other men that I met online. I felt like I was being puppet mastered from some evil unknown source. I was manic and acting out sexually. That default programing from my childhood was calling the shots. I didn’t have a sense of self so I was acting from what I knew and what Dad taught me about myself and the self-worth that mom made sure I didn’t have.

I say acting out sexually. What I should say is reenacting the trauma…which there was so very much of. I was on auto pilot and at that time if you asked me if that’s what I wanted to be doing I would have said yes out of programming but the core truth of who I am knew it was not at all right or who I am or what I wanted…that core didn’t have a voice yet.

2001, Amazon had laid us all off. I got hired working at a treatment center for abused youth. I was major depressive and would be fetal position on the floor and cry for a month at a time but I didn’t know why or what was wrong… I was just deeply goddamn depressed and wanted to die. All the time. Goddamn. Let it end.

Poor Mark. He didn’t know what was happening. He was the perfect boyfriend. He tried so hard to help me. I honestly could not have asked for a more perfect man to come in to my life…and he was stuck with me. Mentally fucked Melissa with no clue what was wrong… and worst of all, I thought I had to get out of my relationship with Mark.

Crazy,right?….I asked Mom for help. She had no relationship with me and no clue what was going on in my life…She is a complete train wreck of a human and so deep in her own denial and so wrapped up in her latest abusive relationship with a rich man that she could honestly give a fuck about me and thought the worst of me anyway… so yeah, break up with him and oh my god Melissa I don’t know what to do with you.

I kept cheating on him over and over again. I was off the rails with my manic depression. Spending, fucking, driving my car too fast…. Through a chat room, I got mixed up with a man that felt like Dad to me and I was entranced and captive to him. Mark asked me to marry him and I broke up with him, moved out.. I was off the rails with the sexual acting out/re traumatizing myself.

(Mark immediately met the woman he has since married and has been with for the past 18 years. I would give anything to have that man back in my life…Throughout these years, my memory of how he treated me has been the standard by which I have held all other men and nobody measures up….Beyond his character and integrity, the art, music and intelligence that lives within this handsome and kind man is incomparable. I blew it. Fuck. I pushed away the most incredible man I ever knew and he loved me. I still love him to this day.)

At that same time I heard a rumor at work that one of the counselors (reggie, 24) had slept with a client(raya,16). I knew reggie was capable of it (I had slept with him) so I reported it to the Unit manager, Big Mike. ……What I didn’t know is that Reggie, Mike and the guy I was so into, Cash were all friends who grew up together and in the same gang……

and so it was that month that I moved out from Mark that the man that I was so “in love with”, Cash, drugged me at a house party and raped me with 4 of his friends to teach me a lesson for reporting Reggie.

I remember sharing a beer with Cash and then feeling tired and dizzy and asking to lay down and then multiple hours of being barely coherent and having no control over my body and being passed around for everyone to fuck over and over again.

Cash was a sex trafficker and grooming me all along. No wonder he felt like home. My need for family and my daddy issues in full effect, I couldn’t break the spell. I was terrified of him and wanted him to think I was so sexy…..He was masterful with the mindfuck and kept me under his thumb at all times which felt like attention and love to me and was intense enough that I could feel it.

At that time, in Washington, you had a statue of limitations of 8 years to report a rape.

Mind you, I was so dissociative and still had no idea I was a person or had any rights to my thoughts or my body… I was really goddamn checked out at that point in my life….I was in shock. The childhood assault trauma was just surfacing and I had no words for it because it had been normalized and my feelings negated by my parents So, I didn’t know if I had been raped or not….it took me years to figure out that its wrong to drug someone and have all your friends fuck them…

I didn’t know I should or could ask for help. I didn’t believe I could be helped. I didn’t think anyone would help me. I didn’t know I was a person. I didn’t know I had rights. I didn’t know I could escape or how.

ANYONE CONFUSED ABOUT WHY I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO GET HELP OR THAT I DESERVED IT???????

Whats wrong with you, Melissa?

In the meanwhile, Cash was making sure I wouldn’t report it.

He knew I was away from Mark, had a history of sexual assault and no family, and that I lived in absolute poverty so there was zero chance I could escape him.

I was in so much trouble. I needed help. I called Mom. I explained that it all to her. I explained that they were a gang. That it was sex trafficking… that I needed help…. To which she said “Let them play godfather. Whats the worst they can do?”….. (nice way to minimize the extreme danger I was in and negate me as a person, don’t you think?)

that bitch loves to see me suffer and struggle, doesn’t she. Doesn’t it make her look amazing when I look like shit? So she didn’t help me. She shit talked me to the rest of the family like I wanted to be in that situation because I was trash. Nobody helped me.

I remember talking to Mary Jane around that time explaining that I was getting counseling and she, like mom, shamed me and told me I didn’t have bipolar or something like that… She was Team Mary Ellen all the way and me getting counseling was just attention seeking or something like that.

See, this is why MJ and I have never been friends or close. I cant trust her. Shes not someone I think of as an ally. Sorry about that, MJ. Im not trying to be mean but… look at why I think that.

I really do look up to her though. She is so smart and capable. But I cant trust her and this is why.

By the way, here’s just a few of examples of the worst they can do while “playing Godfather”: They were so invested in making sure I never spoke about the rape they made sure I was living in such constant fear for my life (mental domination) that I was too scared to talk to anyone about it:

*They had voyeur cameras in my house…that they were making money off of.

*They had software on my laptop to collect all my personal data (social security, passwords, answers to security questions) so I am owned by them to this day.

*They had GPS on my car to track me everywhere I went and would leave notes on my car to let me know I was constantly being watched.

*They flipped my therapists office and stole all her files to make sure there was no record

*They poisoned my dog every day for a month while I was at work…I would come home to Milo cowering in the corner like he had been abused all day long and diarrhea all over the floor until one day I yelled out in my home with nobody there that I would find Cashs son and do the same to him…and I went online and found his childs home address…yelled that out to my empty apartment…and after that day Milo was never sick again….

*Then there are the 2 times they broke into my apartment in the middle of the night, drugged me in my sleep and did whatever and dumped me at the park. One of those time I woke up with half my face slack and paralyzed as though I had a stroke. By the grace of god I got the feeling back but to this day its still a little droopy.

*They sent their equally psycho boy Alex into my life to keep watch on me. He was horribly mentally abusive. I was so broken and demoralized. I needed to get away. Instead, I got pregnant. Alex also gave me syphilis ..and so I had an abortion. I had to get two Orders of Protection to get Alex away from me. When I called mom for help with the pregnancy, she was off the rails hysterical and I was yet even more scared and alone. Mom blamed me for all of it. Further evidence Im trash. I got pregnant by a mistake by a black man.

There is more, I mean it was 8 years of daily torture… but I think you get the idea. Complete mental domination was the name of their game.

I had no friends. None. I was so fucked up. I was terrified to speak to anyone because everything felt like danger. Just these men showing up when they felt like to to fuck me and terrorize me. Eight years. My 30s. I was miserable beyond the telling of it.

Whats wrong with you Melissa. I needed help. I was so scared. I needed my family. I got yelled at and shamed. I was so alone. I wanted to die. I was so depressed and fucked up. Goddamn. Let it end. And the worst of it all is that I really didn’t even have myself. I never had a chance to be safe enough to develop a self. I was a shell of a human. I was out of my head. I was so checked out with the PTSD and the trauma of it all. I was scared to be alive. Soul fracturing is real.

This was how I spent my 30s. Somehow pulling myself together to go to work during the day because I didn’t want to be homeless, coming home and having a total mental collapse at night and all the while being mentally tortured by a gang of sex traffickers and when I reached to my family for help I got blamed for being a fucked up piece of shit.

I had no one. When I talk about my isolation and how alone I am, its cumulative. Its all this and more.

I don’t need to volunteer at a shelter on Christmas to be with someone for the holidays. I don’t need to get a dog. I need family. I need to be validated on a daily basis that I matter and am loveable just as I am. I need someone safe who is simply there. I need people in my life who celebrate me without me asking. I need people who are there for those simple mundane acts of living that define us…I need to come home to love.

The miracle: I kept myself employed and was successful in my corporate career path, I kept myself housed, and drug and alcohol free the entire time. I had the where with all to get counselling and try to work through my shit. I never gave up on myself even though I didn’t yet know who I am and my family had absolutely written me off from day one.

Then the Recession happened. I, of course, had never learned money management skills so there really wasn’t any savings to rely on. I was comfort eating like a motherfucker, I had student loans, a car payment and insurance and a foolishly large and expensive apartment, I had these lecherous men that were taking advantage of me financially too… I was manic depressive… I was paying for counselling (which if I am not mistaken over the years has totaled $100k) But to be honest, I don’t know where my money went… so when the Recession hit it took about 2 months before I was selling off everything I own and living in my car….where I stayed for the next year with my dog.

Nobody help me stay safe or in my integrity. I had no friends in Seattle to turn to. Mom told me to put my things in garbage bags and throw it all away…take the dog to the pound… and work with my counselor (she was angry about me getting help because she perceived it as being me trying to vilify her and this was her chance to punish me for getting help) and find a shelter to check in to because I wasn’t welcomed at her home.

Let me say that again: My mom knew I was losing everything, told me to throw my life away, dump my kid at the pound and told me to check into a shelter, I wasn’t welcomed at her home.

MY MOM.

Shes sees me as trash. She threw me away. Doesn’t she look amazing when Im failing?

Work in Seattle was impossible to find. I literally had 700 resumes out. Understand, I have held a job consistently since I was 15 years old and somehow mom thought this moment was me being a lazy piece of shit and just trying to manipulate her for money when I asked for help.

Sure. Ok.

I spent the next year in my car with no money coming in other than whatever odd jobs I could grab on craigslist to make my car payment. I drove back to North Carolina to seek help from my friends and my brother. My friends back home were not in a position to help me in any long lasting way but bless them all for what they did…

but Jim 2, who lives in Raliegh, was. He just declined. He made me a sandwich…told me there was nothing he could do for me (he has three houses)…and I spent the night in my car outside my brother’s house.

I had an ex acquaintance from Seattle who lived in Raleigh. He was part of the abuser sex trafficking gang. He let me sleep on the floor but would beat the shit out of me if I tried to sleep on the couch. I was so demoralized and out of my head, I needed literally anyone to be there for me….so, I stayed there, on the floor, for a month.

My brother was 15 minutes away, could have kept me safe but my brother chose to do nothing to help me.

Whats wrong with you Melissa. My family. Definitely gonna say my family.

When it was clear that North Carolina wasn’t going to be any better for work than Seattle I decided to drive back to the west coast. I had to drive through Texas and I didn’t stop at Moms house. I didn’t even try. Why would I? I was so hopeless and out of my head with depression and PTSD. I was screaming into the great black nothing. I was cutting myself all over to get the evil out. I would punch my own face black and blue from self loathing… again, thinking it was all my fault and that I was defective. I mean… my own family didn’t want me. Nobody did. It was me. I was a horrible piece of shit and deserved to die. Nobody loved or wanted me. Nobody kept me safe. I was deeply lost in the void. I wanted to die. Goddamn. Let it end.

That year in the car was by far worse than the 8 years of being tortured by sex traffickers or the 13 years of living with my sex predator father or the 7 years of being stuck in bumfuck North Carolina with my moms abuser boyfriend stealing the show.

Without question having nobody and knowing that nobody cares if you are safe, in your integrity, have a door to lock, privacy of any kind, if you are fed or showered… knowing for a demonstrated fact that there is not a single person on earth who cares enough to validate your humanity is the absolute worst feeling I have ever known. Being completely dehumanized, demoralized, erased. I begged for death.

Whats wrong with you Melissa?

Fun fact: during that time, instead of helping me or offering me a job at her business doing the exact job I did so well at Amazon (I asked for one and told her I would sleep in the attic at the office and she told me No), to mock me and show me what a failure I am and that I was just trying to manipulate her for money because Im a lazy loser

Mom went to her local Costco and applied for a job to show me how easy it was for her to get hired.

I mean, if youre going to be void of a soul, you should really go for it. Kudos, Mom.

I drove through California on the way back home to Seattle and met my sister Patty for the first time. We look like two peas in a pod. We think exactly the same. She is undeniably my sister. It was the most incredible feeling.

For the first time in my entire life I actually felt and thought the same as someone else.

She casually declined to introduce me to her family. They kept looking at me incredulously because we look just the same… but she would shoo them away when they would come over to talk. I met her at her restaurant and then she took me to her palatial home. She has a huge family. She had tons of photo albums… and then she started talking about Dad…like she was in a trance and talking about a favorite lover… it was clear that Dad had sexualized her and maintained that relationship with her well into her adult life and that was the reason she had no contact with us and didn’t want a deeper relationship with me. One conversation was all I got with her. I slept in my car outside her home. My sister didn’t help me. Whats wrong with you Melissa???

In one shot from LA I drove back to Seattle. I figured out that the Queen Anne neighborhood had the lowest crime rate so I parked there. I was so sick to death of all the nights that year that I would wake up with someone trying to break in to the car. Thank god I had Milo with me. He saved me multiple times from intruders that year. My body was a wreck from car living and shit food. My mental health beyond destroyed. I was really just done. Run through. All the way run through.

I did a brief stint staying in Silverdale with my friend from NC that I managed to re connect with on my drive back… but the hour drive into Seattle from Silverdale was too much so I lumped it and just slept in my car in Queen Anne once I secured my job…..

I went in to Top Pot Doughnuts every day for a month and demanded a job until they gave me one. I was 8 weeks into that job, still sleeping in the car but I had forward momentum when I totaled the car. I had the very last car payment in the seat next to me I had worked so fucking hard to maintain my payments in good faith despite it all and come out of that situation with my car but nope…fuck me. I was on my way to the gym and I was giving myself a pep talk telling myself everything was going to be ok….and I ate it…40 miles an hour into a stopped truck on the West Seattle Bridge. Entirely my fault. Milo went to the pound. All my earthly belongings went to the impound yard. I went to the ER…. And I called every single person I knew and who I thought could help me.

Just when you think you have nothing left, turns out you can go lower. Nobody returned my call.

Me, the unwanted, loveable piece of shit. I could die and nobody cared. Whats wrong with you Melissa?

I got out of the hospital, I had made contact with my online friend Rishad and he let me stay for a couple days… BLESS HIM… In those two days I got on the bus. I took the bus that goes through Capitol Hill and up to Queen Anne where my job was. I wrote down every apartment for rent phone number I could see and I started making calls. In the first true lucky break I had in years, this apartment manager woman at a really sweet little apartment on the hill heard me out…heard my story… it was the 15th of the month. I had my car payment check and I cashed it and gave her the money… She gave me the keys and a wink and told me I could move in “on the first”, that’s what the money I gave her would pay for…. and that she definitely didn’t know anything about a dog so no pet fee was needed.

I went right upstairs, LOCKED MY OWN DOOR and laid on the floor with literally nothing left to my name and cried so fucking hard.

I had whiplash from the accident. I fractured 4 molars on my steering wheel and over the years as my dentist promised they have slowly one by one fallen out of my face. I had broken both my feet and wracked my knees…. But I had a place that was my own and a job and that’s all that mattered.

I went right to the pound the next day and got Milo. I went to the impound lot and got what was left of my life. I missed a sum total of two days of work…. I was so thankful to have a job again I blocked out the pain from my broken body and I just kept going.

(Mind you the only thing Mom has ever been proud of me for in my lifetime is losing weight. That’s what got her attention…that’s what she was impressed by. I went on a diet.)

That next year, I lost 70 pounds at the gym. I perceived my training team as the family I never had and I was good at lifting weights. They weren’t honestly my friends or family but it was something consistent and I needed that stability and I needed them so fucking bad. It took 5 years to start to return to a somewhat functioning human... Lifting helped me get back into my body and stop checking out so much. My nutrition plan made me focus on myself every moment of every day…and nothing beats depression like clean food and working out. Structure and consistency.

My PTSD was off the rails though. I was worse than a soldier coming back from war…I never signed up for that shit and it started when I was a child. I was suffering. I wanted to die. Every moment of every day. I was miserable to be around. Nobody wanted to be my friend. So, trust me…just work and the gym with my illusion that people were there for me and me inappropriately and overly attached to them.

The irony is that I looked amazing and strong and I was, yes. The reality is that I wanted to die. I begged for death. I had two suicide attempts in those years….I surprised myself and cut my wrist with my house keys on the way to work one day and another time I walked into traffic but the car swerved.

Coming out of all that happened and processing all that trauma took more will power and resolve than anything I have ever done. It was so dark. I felt demon possessed. I was out of my head. I would find myself walking out of my place into public with no skirt on just my tights or other crazy shit like that. I was talking to myself, having heated arguments with nobody there all the fucking time. I was punching myself in the face. I was cutting and other such self harm.

It was really bad. I was hurting so fucking much.

And, I had another sociopath boyfriend taking full advantage of my disadvantage…keeping me fucked up because it kept me there for him. Thomas was in my life for 7 years. Absolute Scum. But he was the only person who would show up in person for me. I needed to be held. I was so out of my head and I still had no friends in my life…just people on the internet.… So again, this familiar situation: I just let him use me so I could have literally anyone there. The social and emotional isolation was killing me and I was convinced I was in love. He felt like home. He kept telling me we would be together if I waited. That he loved me. That I was the Key! I was the only time he was happy. The reality was he wouldn’t speak to me during the week. He would just show up on a Friday or Saturday night when he felt like it, from 1am to 3am…literally show up with his dick out to fuck me…very often wouldn’t speak to me when he was there…then he would leave and that was what I considered my relationship and love. It was about 2 years into our “relationship” that the truth slowly started to surface that he was in a long term relationship and he lived with her….

The details of how twisted he is and how he manipulated my daddy issues is disgusting. How he used neglect to keep me working so hard for him to be there and begging for his attention….really sick.

He felt like home which is the worst part. He was exactly like home.

It took me three years at the doughnut shop to get emotionally stabilized enough to make a plan for next steps. I was too emotionally fragile to go back to corporate work or be in an office environment. I knew I wanted to go to massage school and I really thought it could be an answer for me even though Mary Jane and mom had previously shamed and mocked me when I said I wanted to go. Mom didn’t think I could be anything better than a waitress. She told me to stop complaining that I hated my work and just go do it.

It was around this time that I had to move out of the apartment because they raised the rent by double on my sweet apartment and I found my way into squatting in my Art studio, where I have been for the past 7 years.

This studio has been so needed and healed me in so many ways. It is private enough to have a complete mental collapse and since it was a former isolation tank/jail… Nobody can get in here….bars over the windows and a steel door…so, I could sleep at night for the first time in years. The rent is crazy affordable which allowed me to go to school and later afford activities to try to learn social skills and be a real person in the world…. This place is my everything.

When I had my first art show… consisting of the photos that I took when I was living in my car. One of the ways I survived and changed my paradigm to get out of the car alive was that I would walk around and task myself with Looking through the eyes of Love. I would try to find one thing each day that I could see beauty in so I could continue to see good in the world…thus my collection of flower photos that I maintain to this day as my gratitude practice.

Mom picked up the phone and called me the night of my show.

(Mind you, she has never been there for me. Over the years since she kicked me out I think we have talked on the phone maybe 10 times. There have been years where she refused to give me her phone number…she made a game of it for years…I would email and ask for it she would say she was going to give it to me in her reply but never would. Then she finally did and a week later she changed it again. Psycho. Another time I can remember a time we talked on the phone and I ended by saying I love you and she was silent and struggled to say it back. Whats incredible is that she has always pretended to be someone who knows me and knows whats going on in my life and talks about it with such authority. This is a narcissistic abuser in action. What she was doing was scanning my social media and whatever scraps of information she could get and twisting it into whatever story she needed to support her storyline about me being a problem child and a fuck up and what a wonderful mother she is so she could continue to live in denial. She cant face the past and she has never done any work to own her part or apologize. So, now Ive cut her off. She does things now like call the place where I get my mail and had the people who run the PO box office tell me my mother called and she is worried about me and she asked them for whatever information they had on me -so I had to get a new PO Box place where the owners have English as a distant 2nd language- or she will go through my friends list on social media and contact people to see if they will keep tabs on me for her and share her story about what a problem I am and how she is just a loving mother who I have scorned and of course people believe her. She said the magic word: Mother. Nobody would suspect what kind of Mother she actually is and they see me all angry, regressed emotionally like a child and so fucked up and struggling in the world so she must me right about me, yeah? Text book actions when you try to break away from a Narcissist)

So…I get into the studio and Im all set up for my show and she called me to say this: “So, youre having an art show huh? You think youre so great. Youre still alone though aren’t you? (the mean girl was jealous that I somehow retained a sense of self and did something neat to be proud and again, she wanted to punish me…the woman is demented.) You know, the longest relationship you’ve ever had is with that damn dog.” And then she laughed at me. Made some shit comment about my basement studio “not having air” and some other bullshit and we ended the call. My party guests were arriving. My self-confidence was missing in action for the rest of my night. Nice, right? That’s my mom.

Shortly after I get in to the Studio Milo got sick. Really really sick. As I promised him from day one, I would never let him suffer for my own selfish reasons…. So, I rented a car, took him to the vet and had him put down. The love of my life and my great protector. This sweet soul that was my constant source of love and hope for 14 years. When I posted on my facebook thread about his passing, mom commented that she was devastated at her loss. Because, you know… Milos death, this dog that she wanted me to throw away, was about how it impacted HER. …yeah….ok.

I want to mention out of the context of a clear timeline that somewhere in here I trained for and ran two Tough Mudders. They are 12 mile courses with 20 really fucking hard obstacles. They are designed to be run with a team. I ran them both solo because nobody wanted to join me. On the days that I went to the events, neither my Trainer or the man I was so in love with, Thomas, sent me as much as a good luck text to wish me well or acknowledge my accomplishment. My previously 215 pound ass had shrunk to 140 pounds and, at 40 years old ran a team event solo and made it through in TWO AND A HALF HOURS completing every single obstacle, no excuses…. And nobody who should have been excited and invested in my success said a word.

I was still invisible. I still did not matter. I was still not celebrated by the people who should have been there for me.

I want to point this out: Even I did not think I mattered or what I was doing was noteworthy. I was still so checked out and erased to myself that it didn’t click in my head that my life and all that I was doing and surviving was me doing the impossible.

My friend Luke (who I met online dating but I knew we were meant to be solid friends for life) made a point to come with me to the first Tough Mudder. He spent the entire day out there and he took photos of me… He is the reason that I can now reflect on what I did and actually SEE MYSELF. That gift is immeasurable. Luke evidenced me. Im here today as a whole person in part because of him. Also of note, the transition time between the apartment and the studio: Luke let me stay with him. He kept me safe and he was my sounding board and my true friend. I have nothing but the deepest most heartfelt love and respect for him. His story is equally harrowing and he is a miracle in action. Thank you Luke. I love you. Youre in my inner circle for life.

Now that Milo was gone and I was feeling somewhat more stabilized as a human, I knew it was time to make my career plan and try to get into massage school. Here is the next great stroke of luck in my lifetime: I went to Discovery Point and I talked to the women that run the school I explained my situation and that I was completely broke. They let me go to school for free in those 9 months with the understanding that I would clean the school on the weekends, make what payments I could as I went along and work out a payment plan immediately after graduation and that they would hold my diploma until that was complete. OH SWEET MERCY.

My days during those 9 months were 17 hours long. I would manage the café in the morning 5am to 1pm, go to the gym to lift and run from 2 to 4, then to school from 5 to 10pm…all the while walking to get to each place. I was getting something like 12 miles a day. I did it. I made my 9 months of cleaning the school and keeping my life on track ( no cheering section, nobody doing laundry, cooking, keeping bills paid or there to comfort me but me: Whats new?) , I passed my exam and I was on track to move my life forward.

I feel like there should have been a celebration when I graduated because that’s fucking astounding…. but, hey… nothing happened, nobody in my life said a word of congratulations about it. Surprise.

I live alone. I have no friends beyond those that exist on the computer, acquaintances from community, and a few co workers that I have hung out with from time to time and I always make a big deal about that on social media which gives the illusion that I have people, but I really dont. My only contact with others is at work. I go home to an empty room and there is no support or comfort. Its really impossible to describe to people who have people what it is like to live with this constant isolation and utter lack of emotional intimacy and how it eats you alive…but this has been my life.

People who don’t understand tell me to get a dog or volunteer or pay for therapy for companionship. That’s a cruel tone deaf response. People need people and it is reasonable to want to be loved, intimately, from the outside in. What I want is to simply matter, and be loved and valued, and have someone who is there without having to do something to receive that…..

Because I have yet to be understood when I talk about it, I have for the most part stopped talking about my isolation that is to this day very real for me.

Im so lonely I just want to die. Whats new.

In the next year, I was waiting tables still and somehow managed to pay off $10k for my license… on a year where I only made $24k. again, no celebration when I told my co workers about it…. I thought it was a big deal.

During that year I went to the doctor and discovered that I was literally malnourished. I was pushing it too hard with working out and keeping everything on track and my personal trainer wasn’t actually reading the food journal I sent him each night… so I got pneumonia as well….but just kept going.

I also got my Personal Training Cert and my Nutrition Counseling cert that year and started working as a Personal Trainer while I looked for a Massage job. Things were lightening up for me. The tremendous crushing weight of my entire life was lightening up.

But the reality of who my Trainer was and what a fraud he was came to the light. He was sleeping with some of his clients and I have a laundry list of unethical things he, and his business partner, were doing. When I held him accountable that was the last straw for him. He was sick to death of weathering my PTSD and how fucked up and sick I was and how fucked up I was over Thomas all the goddamn time… and additionally I was calling out all the ways he was unethical: I was bad for business. I was bad for him in the fitness community.

He kept gaslighting me to try to get me to leave but that was my community for 5 years and I didn’t know what to do…….So, Matt did whats guys do: Shes crazy… and shit talked me throughout the fitness community. He kicked me out of his gym and I now have no gym to work out at and no trainers willing to work with me. Thanks Matt! Super appreciate you!

I maintained my own lifting program for another year but honestly, I was in it for the community and sense of belonging that I never had before in my life. Without that and with Matt shit talking me in the background so I had no support elsewhere my program started to slip…. Add to that, I had begun working full time in massage and my shoulder got burnt out. I have a repetitive stress injury from my Amazon days that was made worse at Tough Mudder when I got my arm yanked nearly out of its socket in an obstacle… so, Lifting started to fade… and honestly, I was burnt out on the regiment of it all. I needed a break. I deserved a huge break.

I think it was right around 2014 when Mom had me come to Houston for Thanksgiving as though we are friends or she was a Mom. The highlights of that visit include her telling me the reason I wasn’t welcome in Houston during the Recession was because her husband Rumi forbade it.

(I forgot to mention that all through the years of her being with Rumi she has painted this picture of him being physically and emotionally abusive. That she was hiding money to escape him and what a horror he is. She had some secret email account that she sent me emails from at one point and told me that she was trying to hack his email to see who he was having affairs with or some other drama….. but you know if you ask Jim2 who his best friend is, its Rumi…apparently they text all the time…so, you know…she loves to lie and paint these horrific pictures of who people are to support whatever her manipulation is to get sympathy or whatever pay off)

Anyway, While I was in Houston visiting her she was acting like everything was normal and fine and that I had just made up whatever it was that I went through during the Recession. She reminded me that since I “left home” at 18 she has had to give me something like $20k in support and implied what a burden I am and how I always have my hand out. She has kept track of the financial support she gave me as a parent and wanted me to feel like shit for needing her. Cool….

Another example of how mentally deranged she is: While I was there we went out to lunch. Mind you, I have maybe $100 to my name at that time. I offered to pay for lunch at this fast food place and after we ordered she commanded me to go pick a table. So I got a booth with a chair. I sat on the booth side so I was facing the café and could see her when she came out of the restroom… I waved her over and she sat in the chair. Unbeknownst to me, the booth side made me taller than the chair side…. She got this twisted angry look and became livid that I thought I was better than her. Paying for lunch and sitting above her like that….. The next day Mom and Rumi started playing a really fun game where they forgot my name and kept calling me “Savannah” (my niece) for the remainder of the time I was there …. You know… because at 44, they saw me as a child. Nothing like a little game of erasing your daughter’s person hood and replacing it with infantilism to let your daughter know you really see her and respect her.

I really hope this is making clear why I have a strict no contact in place with her that I will never change.

Now its 2017 and I get hired at my dream job. The Spa that I am at is beautiful. My co workers are the best. I make really fine money. My mental health is slowly coming together. I got Thomas out of my life and have enough mental clarity now to really see him for who he is. I had spent yet another holiday season alone and the isolation was killing me, as per usual…so I decided that the best thing for me to do to help pull me out of my PTSD and stop being so scared to be seen or heard would be to go to music school…. Learn how to make friends for the first time in my adult life and be with people who were not my co workers. Try to trust people again. Try to trust that I could be liked for who I am….though rejection has been a very prevalent theme in my life… Try to learn some social skills that I missed out on basically my entire life.

How to simply hang out and play….was brand fucking new to me. Music school was really really really hard… not to mention I have no musical ability and I get triggered by stress pretty quickly and freeze… but I knew it was the right thing to do to reparent the kid inside me who never learned to make friends or be in activities with others and who wanted to play drums…. So hell yeah. I did it.

Thank you to Katy,Tracy,Melissa,and Kiyan for coming out to see a couple of those shows and being there to support me. You have no idea how much that meant to me.

I thought if I could make friends there I would have people to go out with and maybe could have a chance to meet a man and have a relationship… but all the women there were married with children and had little interest in going out at night, and I still wasn’t fully integrated as a Self yet… so that was a bust.

Music school was really me making up for my 20s and 30s when I should have been out at shows and hanging with friends and making art and and dating but instead I was being mentally tortured by my entire life. I gave it a good shot, but Im a mixed media artist not a musician and that’s really that. I have to take it in stride: Bless my heart for trying. Thank you to all my bandmates for being so kind and supportive of me and for being stellar humans

I was in my first year of Music school when I met the most amazing man, Joe. He was magical. He honestly loved me for me and I loved him right back. It was fast and deep and I felt so completely seen and wanted by him and OH MY GOD I NEEDED THAT FOR SO LONG. He made incredible things happen and took me on dates that made me feel like a Queen…. But Joe was terminally ill and two months later took his own life. I was in shock again….but kept going as I do.

Also out of context of timeline: When I got into that sweet little apartment I would go down to Edge of the Circle which was just a couple blocks away and get Tarot readings from Raven and Kiyan. I didn’t know how to simply ask for friendship so I would buy Tarot readings to have someone to talk to. These two helped me so much in so many ways…through their compassion and through helping me develop my Self and my skills. Over and over again these two have shown up as real people who have treated me with integrity. People who genuinely care about me and support me in my developing personhood. Ive made it through because of them and so many others along the way.

The shitty thing about being knocked out of your self is that even though you have people around you who care, you often cant see it or feel it and like a dick minimize what people are doing for you because the all-consuming feeling that nobody is there is so much larger than the gentle loving efforts of those around you…. And what happens: you push away the people who are there for you because they have self-respect and youre unwittingly being a dick. I want to say Im really sorry about this because I know for sure Ive done this.

Also out of context of timeline: Somewhere in here I started working in Tarot and caught a lucky break and got hired at Percys to be their Reader. Huge shout out to Krista who made that so possible for me. That Tarot night did more for my sense of Self and well being than I can explain and I was a success there largely because Krista made it so beautiful and kept that night going for me.

I also want to say Thank you to Tracy, Katy, and of course Brian who were my friends and co workers at the RowHouse Café… through those early massage school years. Endless support and encouragement from these guys, even when I was too fucked up to really receive it or reflect it back. Im really lucky to have met you and have had you in my life.

It was right around the solar eclipse and the night before that hurricane hit and flooded Houston and moms house got flooded that I emailed her a long list of things she had done that hurt me and explained that I would be taking time away from her and Id let her know when we could speak again. The next morning after I sent that email I again felt puppet mastered…. But this time by the little kid inside me… I literally woke up, jumped out of bed and started to dance. I was filled with glee. I was amazed by myself. I don’t know where that came from except to say that the kid inside me was OVERJOYED to be free of her.

In the coming years I kept proving to myself that I wont let her back in and that Im safe now… and as I have been staying true to this practice of not letting her, or anyone like her, back in my life… I have become happier and more whole as a human being…. More capable of making good choices in friends and finances….

She made an attempt to contact me around the holidays this year. I saw her call but let it go to voice mail. The message she left was something to the tune of her wanting to know if I had forgiven her yet and gotten over it. …See, because its about me and what I need to do because its my damage that is the problem here…. Nothing had changed with her. It was still my fault. No apology. No self reflection. Had I forgiven her yet. For fucks sake: I will never forgive her.

I have learned to celebrate myself, take my self on vacations and to my great delight I had friends who spent time with me and took care of me!!!!!! Incredible!!!!!, give myself the compassion and nurturing that I always wished I had and reasonably should have had from my family. I have been working on being able to see the love that is there for me from the people that I have in my life, though I still struggle with that. I have been working so hard on Self Love, Self Respect, Healthy boundaries, creating safety and stability in my life in all way and I know that Im doing great work because my inner me, those little kids inside of me that needed a parent are really responding to the parenting Im giving them…. Check this out:

A month or so after I declined her call I was out at the café in my neighborhood, having a treat and a coffee and doing some writing. I was sitting at the table and this incredible feeling came over me as though a golden light was shining on me and I could see it glittering down on me. I started laughing and crying like when you cum really hard and youre filled with ecstasy and bliss. And then I had a vision of being in a hospital room that was in the forest… it was just two walls of the room and then the woods…I could see deer and birds. In the hospital bed there was a person in a full body cast. The cast had moss growing on it and tiny sprouts of pine trees. The Doctor walked in to the room to check on the patient. I was both the Doctor and the Patient. I told myself: Hey, its time to get you out of there. And I grabbed my circle saw and started to cut my cast from end to end and crack to open like a sarcophagus. I told myself Welcome Back! We are so glad you are here!!! Go slow, take your time getting up. No rush.

I was so elated. I walked home immediately. Upon arriving at my studio I had another vision of all the ages of myself, down to the youngest and up to the oldest and wisest all linking hands. I recognized these women as my Sisters/MySelf… all of us agreed that the next would watch out for the next and that nobody would ever hurt us again. SOUL RECLAMATION.

For the first time in my life I am here, in this body, in this present moment. The first time in my life I am ME. Im currently 6 months in to my actual LIFE. THIS IS ME. I AM HERE. OH MY GOD. I MADE IT.

Yes now, of course, the world is ending and my career in massage is tenuous at best and I might be fucked again…. But so not worried because honestly, Ive survived worse with less. So I will figure this out and keep myself alive, housed and fed.

Over the years my attempts to talk it out with Mom were pointless… she would erase my feelings and angrily tell me that it was hard on all of us. She would hold no space for me and just be my mom and have some compassion for her baby girl. Nope: It was hard on all of us so stop complaining… but see, I was a child and they were my parents and that was my family and I had no choice…. So really, at this point, Im done. Im better off on my own.

I don’t know what else to say other than those yearly years were tremendously bad for everyone in my family, yes. I can now at this time in my life see and understand why everyone did what they did…. That my parents were also victims of abuse from their parents and all that and yeah, I have compassion and Im really sorry they had to go through that….But it doesn’t make it ok or make mom someone I will let back in my life. I mean, I went through it and Ive dedicated my lifes work to helping others heal and I try to be so good to everyone around me so…. No excuses. And, I still have questions like: Fuck, why did dad never go to jail? Im guessing it was about the money…..and really, how did nobody in my family see that I needed help?

Anyway… Ive done epic amount of self work to be here today as a whole person and really change my reality to one where I have value and can share love. Im still working on it… My social anxiety is still the worst. I can barely form words into sentences when Im out in public and I dont have a job to do as my role to play....but you know, I keep trying and its easier and keeps getting easier… and I have amazing friends like Brad to have mini adventures with… and I have my Studio to do my art in and now that Im feeling so much more whole as a person I think I might actually see some work through to completion that I can be proud of… and I have a job that I love and Im getting training for some other skills to expand my skillset and I feel that things can only get better from here so

I feel so lucky to be alive and so fucking grateful to be me and I really like myself. It’s a miracle. All things are possible if you just remember: LOVE IS THE KEY and keep moving in that direction.

That’s my experience and now you know.

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cherryredicarus · 4 years

Text

do you prefer writing with a blue or black pen? black

would you prefer to live in the city or the country? mm in the city, I'd visit the countryside tho

if you could learn a new skill, what would it be? instruments!! i would like to instantly be able to shred my guitar

do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? I usually only drink pre-made tea and i put creamer in my coffee

what was your favorite book as a child? probably milkweed by jerry spinelli or the secret identity of Devon Delaney... those two books could not being any different in subject matter if i tried fjdjfjd

do you prefer baths or showers? aesthetically, baths but i no longer have a tub so I'm rlly only taking showers yk

if you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be? okay get this: vampires

paper or electronic books? paper when possible! i like the feel of them in my hand

what is your favorite item of clothing? long t-shirts / my hoodies

do you like your name? would you like to change it? i like it well enough! my mom wouldve named me margreet otherwise, so i basically got stuck between two distinct European names sjsj

who is a mentor to you? any female English teacher <3

would you like to be famous? if so, what for? mmm in the social sense where my words and opinions have a larger platform and i'm listened to. if i ever made music, I'd probably want it to be from that

are you a restless sleeper? normally no,,,, but i fuck myself over during the school year and sleep in bursts so im up and doing homework at 4 am djsj.

do you consider yourself to be a romantic person? i focus on the romance of friendship so much oh my God

which element best represents you? probably air/earth. kind of spacey and free-flowing but patient and loyal yk

who do you want to be closer to? my family but also not bc i disagree with everything they say so... conflicted <3

do you miss someone at the moment? so many :( most notably my friend raina and my friend maggie

tell us about an early childhood memory when my cousin used to live with me, when i was like 4-6, she stopped sleeping in my room with me and only slept with her dad. some nights i snuck into their room and laid on the floor in the dark, listening to the sound of their breaths, letting it lull me to sleep. i usually only slept for a little bit and then snuck back out.

what is the strangest thing you have eaten? eh i mean pickled tomatoes? dried crickets?

what are you most thankful for? cheesy but L❤VE! for my pets and my friends i love them sm

do you like spicy food? usually! i prefer that the spice doesnt overpower the taste but i have been known to down a family sized bag of xxtra hot cheetos before.

have you ever met someone famous? literally no. my brother met arnold schwarzenegger tho

do you keep a diary or journal? did you mean: my notes app (but also i do keep a physical one for when im feeling more volatile and i need to personally write something)

do you prefer to use pen or pencil? pen

what is your star sign? my sun sign is capricorn

do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? when i was younger i used to wait to eat my frosted flakes so it was soft and the milk was sweet djfjdj. but now i usually eat it crunchy

what would you want your legacy to be? mm, kindness in the face of the cruelty of the world

do you like reading? what was the last book you read? YES i love reading,,, however finishing something is totally different... im currently in the middle of reading stone butch blues and the foxhole court lol

how do you show someone you love them? literally all of the ways love is in everything i do :( but usually i tell them, im physically affectionate with them, i try to be super supportive, i become their sugar mommy, etc

do you like ice in your drinks? listen. if it's already cold. what does it need ice for.

what are you afraid of? my self destructive tendencies

what is your favorite scent? vanilla or tangerine

do you address older people by their name or surname? like in school, by their surnames. at my work, by their first names.

if money was not a factor, how would you live your life? donating to every gofundme i saw.... a cool two story house of my own.... traveling the world without stressing and planning meticulously

do you prefer swimming in lakes or oceans? seeing as ive done neither, uhh lakes?

what would you do if you found 50$ on the ground? if i knew who dropped it, return it. but if it's just randomly lying there uhh take it home and put it in my cash stash.

have you ever seen a shooting star? did you make a wish? no...

what is one thing you want to teach your children? *if*I have any- literally nothing is real. gender is a social construct. love and kindness are the only things worth anything.

if you had to get a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? OOOh skdk i remember @killjoylouis and i joking about getting matching rbb and sbb tattoos somewhere gay. i dont personally desire any tattoos of my own but im so down for matching ones

what can you hear now? silence...the floors shifting..

where do you feel the safest? my grandma's house

what is one thing you want to overcome/conquer? my lingering melancholy and disillusionment with the loneliness of adulthood.

if you could travel back to any era, what would it be? THE 70S!!! DISCO PARTIES!!! ABBA!! THE FASHION!!

what is your most used emoji? 🙄 (someone was ranting 2 me ab straight ppl earlier dkkd)

describe yourself in one word. tender

what do you regret the most? literally most of my childhood years... i was so lonely and bitter and i just wanted attention any way i could get it... sometimes i made ppl cry and didnt care and looking back on it now i want to go into a coma!!!

last movie you saw? vita & virginia

last TV show you watched? she-ra and the princesses of power (the 2018 reboot)

(i was tagged by @killjoylouis to do this heehee love u sm!!)

now I tag (optional): @calmvocals , @noahvsart , @highscal , @h-isforhome , @cliffoconda

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faunusrights · 4 years

Text

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 14

IN THIS EPISODE OF THE OFFAL HUNT LIVEBLOG:

On the other end of the line, Cinder let out a tight sigh. “Yeah. Okay, well—I’m in a difficult position right now. I’m balancing a lot. So, that wasn’t, you know, directed at you or whatever… I’m just trying to deliver you to Atlas. That’s all.”

“Yeah,” Glynda said. “This apology sucks.”

CINDER FALL TRIES TO HAVE MANNERS. AND FAILS. BUT SHE TRIES.

it’s been a WHILE but i’m STILL HERE!!!!!!!!! also i’m a little late to the draw and also unlike w/ prior chaps i did actually read this one when it came out so i’ve had my first run already. BUT that means i actually get 2 Focus so lets get this party started

so we’re now entering into the New Umbraroot Arc which Frightens me on a deep and intrinsic scale because now i have no padding to ready me for whatever the Hell is going to occur, but i do know it will be gay(er) than the current content was (is/shall be) and here’s the proof

It had only been a day, but the sound of Cinder’s voice was a relief to Glynda’s senses.

glynda that’s gay. hey. hey. glynda have u been told yr a lesbian. lesbeeb. besbion--

“Not at all.” Thank god. It was one thing to be traveling with Cinder Fall. It was entirely another to have her checking in on Glynda’s well-being.

cinder: my well-being is SHIT but thankfully there’s someone nearby doing WORSE than me, which makes me feel better at least,

“Oh.” Our sounded strange in her mouth.

my favourite thing abt any gay media and content is that it’s gay in ways that hettie(tm) nonsense can only dream of being. when a story is abt a guy and a gal all the romantic tension comes from like. looking at a tiddy or getting naked or w/e the shit. here? it’s literally found entirely in the use of the word our. such power. i love it.

I went from unknown to one of Atlas’ most wanted overnight, which is charming… And also annoying, because they refuse to stop pasting wanted posters on every street corner.

i feel like cinder is the type of bitch to send pics of them back to emerald like ‘is my face ACTUALLY that janky??? my hair is a state. you think they’ll use a selfie if i ask nicely???’

Cinder hummed, affirmative. “Which would be unnecessary, if you hadn’t reported me.”

Glynda returned, “I wouldn’t have reported you if you hadn’t been committing a crime.”

glynda you snitch. you narc. you bootlicker. does be gay do crime mean NOTHING to you,

We left a funny taste in her mouth, almost as strange as when Cinder had said our. She tried not to examine it too closely.

again. look at this shit. this is real slowburn hours. this is how u DO IT.

Her heart was beginning to feel like a pin cushion with all the needles pulled out, little holes left in their wake.

would i be showing my age if i glanced at this and wondered if it were a reference to the inciting og offal hunt inspiration fic or. it does doesnt it. okay moving on.

“Okay.” And then, in an effort to change the subject to something lighter: “I’ve never broken into a country before.”

glynda’s complete and continuous inability to actually like. do what she plans on doing is SO funny to me. she’s going to be stealthy, she says, throwing a man aside in obvious fashion. i’m going to be subtle, she says, being as conspicuous as possible. she’s a disaster and i live for it.

"The Faunus." Cinder's voice was cold. "Don't speak to her."

this part of this fic is subtitled ‘cinder’s rank opinions time’, apparently. not that u can tell. but it is. dsfhgjsdfghjghfjdk

In the silence that followed, Glynda thought of the stunted horns jutting above Cinder's hairline at the restaurant.

Glynda murmured, "That’s a horrible thing to say."

"Don’t start." There was no concession in her words. “I mean it.”

“...I just didn’t expect that from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

There was something in Cinder’s tone that told Glynda that nothing she said would be correct. She said nothing.

cinder’s! rank! opinions! time! honestly this section victimises me the MOST as i very famously cried over an earlier section in which cinder thought abt all the faunus she grew up with, so i know that kc and diesel were looking to hurt me directly. that said i DO find it funny that cinder, yet again, looks like a pile of shit. she can’t do anything right. naturally inclined to be the villain completely unintentionally. what a moron.

A harsh laugh. “What do you think we are, friends?”

“Well, no—um. Not really, but—”

YOU SEE. CINDER. PLEASE. £10 FOR U TO BEHAVE FOR FIFTEEN SECONDS.

“Then, just—just listen to me. I’m going to get us there. I p-promise.” There was a soft sound, like disgust or the prelude to a gag. “Urgh, your soul—give me more space.”

cinder: i’m inclined to being an asshole glynda: every time yr mean 2 me i’ll make u feel worse cinder: ah no. ah shit. i have to be nice??? ah fuck. what the shit is this.

Glynda thought of Ozpin. It wasn’t a comforting thought—more like the memory of a near-accident, like sliding on ice and feeling the world shift beneath you. It was a flinch-thought, and it would have made her miserable instead of just homesick had she not shut it out so quickly.

god the writing in this fic is so especially pristine. everything feels so real and visceral and you just know Exactly how that feels. it’s brilliantly punchy and i adore the way u get have the exact sensation click into place. it’s SO good.

She wondered if it was the same moon Bacia and Vivienne had looked upon. If they had felt the same beneath its pale light. The Great War had seen two shatterings of the moon, so perhaps it had appeared different, but… Glynda couldn’t help but wish that it was something they shared, even lifetimes apart.

👈😎👈

actually im a little nervous abt doing fingerguns because WHAT IF SMTHNG HAS CHANGED... but i think this bit is. safe. maybe. diesel. kc. am i safe,

Glynda closed her eyes and tried to feel out that instinctual power within her. Tried to know herself better. It resonated around her like a water in a tank, nearly palpable.

again this is just GREAT storytelling. i just LOVE how well kc and diesel turn abstract ideas into such physical manifestations it’s completely unreal. r y’all seein this shit???

upon checking his number, she’d discovered it had been blocked.

i love that glynda is abt as knowledgeable abt little jumps like this as the reader is. are we surprised as a reader? yes. is glynda also surprised? HELL YEAH SHE IS. SHE AIN’T GOT A FUCKIN CLUE MY DUDE.

Remembering the notes to herself not to trust Winter, Glynda opened the log hesitantly.

glynda no yr sending read receipts to yr future gf and thats a bad move on everybodys part

The indicator showed this wasn’t the first time Glynda had accessed the message. She couldn’t remember doing so.

OH NO BITCH U ALREADY DID

“Special Operative Schnee, things are…” Glynda paused, searching for something suitably vague to say. “Proceeding.

do you see what i mean abt glynda’s ineptitude. it’s slapstick levels of ridiculous and i’m living for it.

Do you suspect she’s attempting to cross the border?”

“Maybe.”

‘sure,’ glynda says. ‘you could word it like that if you wanted to.’

“Bold of her, if nothing else. She should know there will—” Glynda skimmed through the rest of the paragraph to reach the end, the corners of her mouth curling. “—can make arrangements. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

HGSDFGKHJSFDGHKJDF JESUS CHRIST

its like in fallout 4 when someone tells u important info and when u click past it the main character just goes ‘uh huh’ ‘yeah’ ‘okay’ ‘sure’ ‘mm-hm’ as the text boxes whizz by GLYNDA PLEASE

Bubbles appeared, showing that Cinder was typing. Glynda waited.

And waited.

The bubbles appeared and disappeared four times.

She flipped back to Cinder’s conversation and found that, after all that time, Cinder had finally settled on a reply.

It said:

“Good.”

i just had to pair these up for a second if only to say: dis me lol

okay let’s double back for a second just to cover this Juicy Lore:

If you’d like, I can arrange a bouquet of flowers to be left at your mothers’ memorial site. My thoughts are with you.”

For a long moment, Glynda simply stared at the screen. [...] In quick succession, she realized that it had been sixteen days since she’d met with Cinder in the restaurant and that it was soon to be the anniversary of her mothers’ deaths.

WHAT IS THIS LORE MA’AM AND MX??? **MA’X**??? firstly idk what the HELL the Black March tragedy is but im fascinated but also: did u have to do that. can ONE person in this fic not have [spoilers redacted cant say that yet no sir] problems??? no??? die. dsfhjgghjkfsddf

Glynda picked herself up from the armchair, neat and tidy, and disassembled into bed, pulling the covers up to her throat. With her Semblance, she turned off the lights. She closed her eyes.

It was quiet. Cold. The only thing she felt was the weight of her soul.

Her Scroll buzzed. Glynda answered it.

“Glynda.” It was Cinder. “I can feel that.”

okay following on from cinder’s text message, i just. love that cinder’s having such direct repercussions to her shitty shitty actions. like this is all tying together in some 👈😎👈 instances but having cinder be her usual callous self and having to literally turn around and start fucking Being Nice For Once is VERY gratifying. fuck you you lil round-faced one-braincelled baby. time to learn to have some Manners. jgdsfghsdfghfjd

She’d simply resigned to the loneliness of having no one to trust but Cinder, and then, not even having her.

... thats gay. hey lads is that gay? its gay. it feels gay.

“Yeah,” Glynda said. “This apology sucks.”

this feels like a reference to 👈👈👈😎👈👈👈 (IS IT. AM I RIGHT. IT IS ISNT IT) but also: LOOK AT CINDER GO. TRYING. BADLY. BUT TRYING. i love her she sucks so much shes such a dumbass. feel the consequences. feel them.

Glynda chided herself; Cinder Fall wasn’t capable of remorse, but she was more than capable of simple math. It seemed the worse she treated Glynda, the worse she herself would feel.

glynda: she’s doing this because it makes her feel better, not me cinder in like idk 20 chapters down the line:

(i guess thats another 👈😎👈 moment but for GOOD REASON)

There was a shift, like Cinder was rolling over, or maybe propping herself up. Was she in bed also? It triggered the remembrance of Glynda’s own physicality, and she turned over as well, searching in the dark for the nightstand and the lamp upon it. The light clicked on. The room brightened. Glynda settled in, ready.

OOOOOH THE PARALLELS. glynda turning the lights off and sinking into darkness and the void versus perking up and sitting up and turning the lights on when talking to cinder!!!!!!! POETIC CINEMA. OOF. OOF. HOW DOES FIFTEEN POINTS OF LOVE TASTE.

“Great! Lovely. Glad to hear it.” Fangs rounded out the words like scissors. A pleasant sense of satisfaction unfurled in Glynda’s chest. “So, once upon a fucking time—”

there were two gays and they were enemies to lovers but didnt know it yet. but they will be.

THATS CHAPTER 14 BABEY!!!!!!!! i LOVED this chap and i can rly feel kc and diesel gearing up for umbraroot. its great being able to like. feel the shift of focus goin on here and im SO ready to see this arc play out. once again offal hunt is the best fic ever made. this is a fact.

#rwby #liveblog #offal hunt #i almost typed 'offal hut' which is not the pizza hut experience i want

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thermtiker · 5 years

Text

New TTS Base Operator Bios

saw some pictures of them floating around, but I like text and I literally spent about nine hours copying all of these so here they are, enjoy them under the cut they’re in order of CTU, then what order they come in in that CTU (attackers -> defenders)

(i know this isnt our usual content, so check tags if youre curious about comic statuses)

Sledge

Background:

“Coming through!”

Born in the far north of Scotland, Cowden’s military father and nurse mother moved to Inverness with him and his three siblings when he was five. His athleticism elevated him to the position of Captain of the 1998 Scotland Under-20s Rugby Union Team. Following a long family tradition of military service, Cowden joined the 3rd UK Mechanised Division of the British Army. His drive and physique suit the division’s historical nickname of “Iron Sides.” Cowden’s first assignment was in the Armoured Division where he studied engineering and specialized in upgrading the infantry combat vehicles. From there, he developed various breaching tactics. He was then recruited into the SAS, where he holds multiple record s in speed and strength. An expert in mechanical, ballistic, explosive and thermal breaching strategies, Cowden is the operator to choose for quick and relatively silent destruction.

Psychological Report:

It’s part of my job to understand where the country shapes the person and Specialist Seamus “Sledge” Cowden seems indelibly shaped by the rugged terrain where he was born. It isn’t just his imposing presence and athleticism. I can’t help but feel that his personality evokes the wilderness as well. He’s stoic and proud, though admits that he can be hot-headed at times. Field reports describe his courage, leadership, and extensive operational experience as much as they mention his unpredictability. He’s much more than a “gentle giant” as some suggest. [...]

Cowden is something of a raconteur, and for much of our discussion he told me one rowdy tale after another. When he was twelve he cobbled a hang glider together out of boat sails and launched himself off his house. He broke both ankles. During military training, he accidentally collapsed his entire sleeping barrack while testing a new breaching technique, and another time he sank a captain’s motorcycle by riding it off the pier because he wanted to see how far it would travel on the surface - not very far, I gather. His stories aren’t just to entertain. They help to establish a comfortable connection. It’s such a casual, offhand leadership style. [...]

Cowden views his fellow operators as family, Specialist Mike “thatcher” Baker in particular, who he credits for convincing him to switch to the Caber. Numerous Rainbow operators refer to Sledge as one of the easiest operators to work with. [...]

Overall, Cowden is easy-going and unpretentious , though he gets ruffled at the mention of politics. A self-proclaimed news junkie, he doesn’t shy away from debates. In fact, it’s the reason he joined the military, and why one of his brothers is currently an elected MP. Cowden understands that while on the assignment Rainbow operators don’t voice their political opinions and so far there hasn’t been any issue. We should trust that he can control his hot-headedness. At least before he’s down at the pub.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

British Army: 1st (UK) Armoured Division

HND in Automotive Engineering

22nd Engineer Regiment RE

Relevant Experience:

British Army: 3rd (UK) Mechanised Division

Operation Telic

Operation Herrick

Notes:

Device: Tactical Breaching Hammer “the Caber” Operator: Specialist Seamus “Sledge” Cowden

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Seamus “Sledge” Cowden

I’m told you wanted to have a looksee at my Brucie. Why? No offense, Mira, but I don’t need someone mucking about with my Caber, trying to make it look sexier. When Mike’s uncle built it for me (sorry… Specialist bloody Mike “Thatcher” bloody Baker), he damn well made me forge the thing over and over again until we got it right. It’s a solid piece, no forge weld to introduce weak points. It’s made with a differential heat treatment to better transmit the shock of blows along the core and the shaft is covered in fiberglass molded to my handspan for better grip. It’s a solid 4140 steel, built for shock and stress, balanced to prevent it from being too top heavy. I don’t need laser sights to put on the damn thing, and I can promise you that if any of your techies come near Brucie, as the saying goes, “it will kill.”

--Specialist Seamus “Bloody Sledge” Cowden

Thatcher

Background:

“What you can feel, what you can touch - those are the things that are real. Everything else is just a distraction.”

Baker comes from a long line of dockworkers and soldiers. At the age of eighteen he enlisted for active military duty despite family pressure to join the family trade as a stevedore. Immediately thrown in politically-charged conflicts, Baker’s performance was exemplary. Further training and another conflict gave him a Distinguished Flying Cross and Conspicuous Gallantry Cross. His keen sense of observation and decisive manner, combined with his close-quarter combat techniques, made him an invaluable on VIP protection detail.

With extensive field experience and proficiency in SAS tactics, Baker is a critical asset to any Rainbow operation. He has honed his expertise with protective measures and electronic counter-measures and frequently works with engineers to advance the equipment. As a Warrant Officer Class 1 (Regimental Sergeant Major) Baker serves as a respected and effective mentor to new recruits. Baker maintains his agility training, continuing abseiling, and has broken numerous mountain climbing records.

Psychological Report:

Knowing that Specialist Mike “Thatcher” Baker is cynical towards bureaucracy, I wasn’t surprised that he was reluctant to meet me. I needed a different approach. Baker lives aboard the Iron Maggie, a boat in drydock that he repairs in his spare time. It’s his “retirement plan.” I suspect that he moved there temporarily when his wife divorced him, but now he knows no other civilian home. [...]

Baker has a distinguished record of military service. He’s respected and im some cases idolized by those he mentors. When he welcomed me to his home, I could see why people describe him as down-to-earth. There’s more to Baker’s gruff, no-nonsense exterior - it just required some effort for him to trust me. [...]

Raised in a coastal town, Baker has a strong connection with the water. We spent our entire meeting on the deck of his ship, overlooking the cold sea. Being someone who isn’t handy - mastering a paper airplane as a kid was the peak of my craft - I wanted to know what Baker likes about boat building and working with his hands. He told me that besides appreciating the precision of it, he liked shaping the wood into something that has a purpose. I suggesting it was similar to how he mentors recruits. He replied that he doesn’t care about the “why” of things the way us “Uni types” do. [...]

Specialist Seamus “Sledge” Cowden is one of his few close friends. Baker’s tolerance of Specialist Mark “Mute” Chandar surprised me, since Baker is impatient with youthful bluster. When asked, Baker would only say: “Mute’s a clever kid.” He almost sounded envious. I wonder if Mute reflects someone Baker wishes he had been. [...]

While by no means a Luddite, Baker does have an aversion to technology. To him, it’s a tool - like a hammer or screwdriver - nothing more. The idea that people come to rely on it as a crutch is what annoys him. I suggested that he spend time in the engineering lab with Specialists Masaru “Echo” Enatsu and Emmanuelle “Twitch” Pichon. They have a lot to teach one another.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

British Army: Parachute Regiment

British Army: S.A.S. Bravo Two Zero

British Army: S.A.S. Warrant Officer Class 1 (Regimental Sergeant Major)

Relevant Experience:

Operation Nimrod

Operation Barras

Operation Telic

Operation Lightwater

Operation Ellamy

Notes:

Device: EG MKO-EMP grenade Operator: Specialist Mike “Thatcher” Baker

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Jack “Pulse” Estrada

One of the biggest challenges for a team is Specialist Mike “Thatcher” Baker’s EG MKO-EMP grenade since the electromagnetic surge can disable electronic gadgets within its radius. The EG MKO-EMP disrupts - in some cases it can destroy - quite a few of our devices. It locks up my Cardiac Sensor so it can’t detect another pulse!

The EMP is deceptively simple. It’s the grenade impact that charges the electron particles. That concentrated energy cascades across an area - even through walls - and spikes nearby electronics. Short of wrapping ourselves in a Faraday shield to protect our devices, there isn’t much that we can do against that.

--Pulse

Smoke

Background:

“Sure, I care about the environment. Immediately around me, anyway.”

Though Porter wasn’t an exceptional student, aptitude tests revealed his propensity for sciences. Encouraged by faculty and his parents, he was able to follow a more unorthodox manner of education with tutors, home-schooling, and field science. He flourished in this break from formal classroom studies and quickly developed his skills in chemistry, biology, and math. Uninterested in pursuing a formal university education, Porter forged a fake ID and enlisted in the British Army. Though the rigidity of army rules wasn’t always a good fit, it was offset by the diverse range of training and experiences army life gave him. While he has been reprimanded for breaking rules, his superiors quickly recognized both his innovation and strategic perspective. He was then encouraged to join the SAS. Porter prefers to acquire knowledge and skills, such as language and music, in his own way and does not excel in a formal training capacity.

Psychological Report:

It’s important for me to not have any preconceived expectations before a face-to-face with any specialist. Since assessments of Specialist James “Smoke” Porter contain some contradictions, I couldn’t have settled into any viewpoint anyway. So essentially he entered my office as somewhat of a mystery. [...]

Porter is consistently described as detached. I reviewed his files and found that his “aloofness” occurs during high-intensity situations. It’s likely not detachment, but focus. I’m reminded of my uncle who used to tap his forehead and tell me to master my mind. Porter, I think, is mastering his mind to stay on task and filter out dangerous distractions. He strives to keep emotions away from decision-making, opting for outlets such as live music events to deplete the tension, thus enabling him to be the person he needs to be on the job. [...]

It’s clear that Porter’s parents encouraged him to be a free spirit and develop his education and personality on his own terms. While it resulted in some unfortunate mishaps - one science experiment left some physical scars but no emotional ones that I can see - there was a great benefit in it. [...] Porter’s free range education helped create a complex, dynamic person who isn’t easily categorized.

Porter is popular among his teammates and considered valuable despite some recklessness. Descriptions such as thrill seeker and fearless seem simplistic to me, however. There’s more nuance to Porter than that. He’s measured and understands calculated risks. Porter - and our other operators = understand that it’s more important to respect fear than try to pretend we never feel it. [...]

Self-taught from an early age, Porter continues to spend time cultivating his own identity. He enjoys acquiring experiences and once he’s mastered them, moves on. The exception is his adopted daughter. He would only share one photo of her. I’ve never seen an infant surrounded by so much paraphernalia, but Porter assures me she is now in high school, excelling within the system he himself was unable to comprehend. Through her, he sees the world in new ways - exactly the kind of challenge he adores.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

British Army

Joint NBC Regiment

Relevant Experience:

Operation Banner

Operation Shader

Notes:

Device: Compound Z8 Grenades

Operator: James “Smoke” Porter

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Liu Tze “Lesion” Long with Specialist James “Smoke” Porter

Controlled tests of the Compound Z8 Grenade required a number of measures including limiting the presence of lab personnel to only the most critical. Strict rules surrounding the PPE disposal (personal protective equipment) and protocols for hazards has to be maintained at all times. Even through the facility is state-of-the-art, additional precautionary measures were required before testing could begin.

The Compound Z8 Grenade mixture’s incapacitating agents are comprised of - [substances are classified and so have been redacted from this document by order of the Director of Research and Development]. As such, the presence of Specialist James Porter and Specialist Liu Tze Long are required at all times, including for any future testing.

First tests were basic data gathering, including the structural integrity and design of the canisters, as well as a deployment timing and range of effect. Evaluation also included a series of tests to measure exposure guidance levels and, where necessary, antidote compounds are being reviewed as well. Data results are still being processed and will be attached when they’re ready.

--Lesion and Smoke

Mute

Background:

“People think my codename is because I don’t like to talk. Maybe I just don’t like you.”

An exceptional and well-rounded student, Chandar was one of the youngest accepted into the University of Cambridge. He majored in electronics and computer engineering, completing an internship at a prestigious tech company where he contributed to the design and function of security system prototypes. His ingenuity caught the attention of Britain’s national security office, the Government Communications Headquarters (GCHQ). Having demonstrated acuity in code breaking, Chandar became an intelligence officer within the signals intelligence (SIGINT) unit. He continues to contribute to the applied technical research team and has recently expanded his field of study to include learning Korean.

Psychological Report:

It may not be immediately clear why Specialist mark Chandar’s codename is Mute. While he dislikes small talk, he isn’t particularly reserved and in fact can be brash - a trait that is off-putting to some. Whatever social agitation he experiences, there are some indications that he’s unable to shake it off. I suspect it’s because he’s impatient. He needs to appreciate that there are different approaches to solving a problem. Interestingly, Specialist Mike “Thatcher” Baker seems begrudgingly tolerant of him and has been known to speak up in Chandar’s defense. [...]

Chandar tends to gravitate to certain personalities. In particular, I’ve noticed that he’s been interacting with Specialist Timur “Glaz” Glazkov lately. Because Chandar revels in deconstructing equipment to create something new, I think he’s drawn to abstract thinkers and Glazkov has a similar talent for seeing complex situations in a unique way. [...]

Given his background in information security, Chandar understands secrecy and seems uncomfortably with expressing himself or with personal questions. In his field, and here at Rainbow, information is a critical - life and death - commodity. So of course, I respect this but only up to a limit. I had to find another way in and we managed to find common ground in discussing History, of all things!

For someone so focused on science he surprised me. His hometown of York is one of the most historic cities in England and it’s a city I adore. He described in wonderful detail how he had to pass the Gothic church on his walk to school. He liked to lean back and look up at the bell tower that it made him wobbly. [...] My meeting with Chandar reminded me that we here at Rainbow tend to focus on how our operators excel in the STEM fields, but there is a great value in our operators having passion and interests across a broad spectrum of studies. Chandar demonstrates why he’s much more than someone who is used to being the smartest person in the room. Despite his young age, I’m certain he has something to teach the others.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

University of Cambridge: Bachelor of Science, Engineering; PhD Electrical Engineering

Britain’s Government Communications Headquarters (GCHQ): Signals Intelligence Specialist (SIGINT)

S.A.S.: SIGINT Communications and Technology

Relevant Experience:

Tempora

GCHQ Prototype engineer

S.A.S. Prototype engineer

Notes:

Device: “Moni” GC90 Signal Disruptor

Operator: Specialist Mark R. “Mute” Chandar

Evaluation Lead: Chul Kyung “Vigil” Hwa with Specialist Mark R. “Mute” Chandar

Rainbow Director Harishva (Six) Pandey and Research and Development Director Elena (Mira) Álvarez have made these evaluations a top priority. I was asked to review the GC90 Signal Disruptor alongside Specialist Chandar, He’s invested many years researching defense systems and GPS-Reliant Military Systems. Really he’s the expert on the subject.

Specialist Chandar and I put the GC90 “Moni” Signal Disruptor through a number of interior and exterior scenarios. The key focus was to test jamming signal parameters based on several constraints while keeping the devices weight to a minimum.

Regarding the attached evaluation results… Specialists Weiss and Pichon (IQ and Twitch) made repeated requests to review the data because both have devices that are powerful counters to the Moni. I didn’t want to be uncooperative but I wasn’t clear on the protocols. Mute wasn’t granted access to IQ RED MK III results “until Director Álvarez had seen them.” So Mira, I’m leaving it to you to decide.

[Comment_E. Álvarez: That’s fine, Vigil. I’ll handle it from here.]

--Vigil and Mute

Ash

Background:

“You can never truly understand a conflict until you’ve been on both sides.”

Cohen’s mother is a renowned Jewish political activist and professor while her Palestinian father is a professor of Middle Eastern Studies. Cohen was raised in Israel, excelling in Mathematics and Physics. She earned a degree in Structural Engineering at Tel Aviv University and spent a few semesters at Boston University.

Cohen then enlisted in the Isreali Defense Forces (IDF). After undergoing the rigorous twenty-two month training for the elite Air Force unit, Shaldag, she served five years. Skilled in ground and airborne operations, all-weather and all-terrain navigation and reconnaissance, she was invaluable in Operation Orchard. Moving to the US to work with the FBI SWAT, Cohen applied her degree in Engineering and gift in structural resistance to develop advanced demolition tactics and equipment. Along with Hebrew, Cohen is fluent in Arabic, English, French and Greek.

Psychological Report:

I had several meetings with Specialist Eliza “Ash” Cohen before I gave up on convincing her to not see me as a commanding officer. She asked so many probing questions, it was starting to feel as though she were analyzing me. [...]

Cohen isn’t interested in discussing her childhood. There’s resentment toward a judgemental grandmother, but no lasting trauma. Military service acted as an escape from family tensions and appealed to her ordered and focused personality. Cohen added that she appreciates high-risk, high-reward scenarios, but didn’t elaborate on what level of personal risk is acceptable.

Her identity is intertwined with her military training and operations. Extracting anything personal from the tangle is difficult. Cohen is cautious and doesn’t cultivate many close relationships. Her bond with Specialist Miles “Castle” Campbell is therefore important to her - and I would say to the team as well. It’s certainly a good pairing. Campbell’s amenable personality enables Cohen to step out of her comfort zone without feeling self conscious or judged. [...]

Cohen uses other people’s assessments to describe herself: She told me that Specialists Dominic “Bandit” Brunsmeier and James “Smoke” Porter tell her she’s “too serious,” while others describe her as “intense,” and that she enjoys being proven right. So I asked if she thought any of these descriptions were accurate. She told me that she only cares about whether the other operators respect her. I’m confident they do. [...]

On operations, Cohen is exemplary: she thinks fast, and her aggressive style almost always puts her at an advantage. During debriefs, however, I’ve noticed a different kind of focus. The residual stress of combat causes her to dwell on every misstep, perceived or real. Self-evaluation is understandable from someone so highly skilled, but it also has an effect on her team. It’s important to encourage her to process the events as a joint effort and not simply assume the critique alone. Cohen - like all operators - knows there will be situations she can’t prepare for. And yet, she alone allows the stress of the unknown to eat at her. This will need to be addressed.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

Tel Aviv University: Bachelor of Science, Engineering

Isreali Air Force

Shaldag

FBI SWAT (JINSA LEEP)

Relevant Experience:

Second Lebanon War

Operation Orchard

Austere Challenge

Notes:

Device: M120 CREM Breaching Rounds

Operator: Specialist Eliza “Ash” Cohen

Evaluation Lead: Dr. Elena “Mira” Álvarez, Director of R&D

Specialist Eliza “Ash” Cohen was not thrilled when she saw me examining her M120 CREM Breaching Rounds. She paced around me like a leopard stalking prey. I’m the Director, I’m perfectly capable of being professional.

Specialist Cohen is very hands-on and from the start she directed the design and function of the M120 CREM. Up close, I can see that it’s well-designed. What surprised me was how the titanium drill bit is designed like a threaded needle so that it “injects” the detcord into the surface. That explains why the damage zone is so effective.

If there’s another counter besides Jäger’s Active Defense System, I’ll find it. In the meantime one strategy that works pretty well is knowing that Miss KickInTheDoor tends to get caught up in her own hype and rush ahead without enough intel.

My examination of the M120 CREM provided some solid insights, plus it was fun. Ash seemed worried that I might mess with it. I don’t need to flip switches on her gear to win.

--Dr. Elena “Mira” Álvarez, Director of R&D

Thermite

Background:

“You see a wall, I see an opportunity.”

Trace joined the Corps straight out of high school, making him a fourth-generation Marine. Following his first tour of Iraq, he obtained enough experience to volunteer as an explosive ordnance disposal technician. After his second tour of Iraq, Trace returned to the U.S., enrolled in university, and earned a Bachelor of Science in Chemistry. He brought his experience and skills to the FBI, where he spent a number of years as a field agent within the Hazardous Materials Response Unit. Seeking more dynamic environments, Trace transferred into FBI SWAT, where he excelled at developing new barricade protocols. He then earned a spot in Rainbow where he’s shown further interest in research and development on gadget upgrades. Trace’s hometown of Plano has a major concentration of Chinese Americans, and as such Trave has a conversational level of Mandarin.

Psychological Report:

For someone so disciplined and orderly, Specialist Jordan “Thermite” Trace likes to surprise. He can be a practical joker and he’s always ready with a smart aleck comment. Beneath the surface, however, the recent loss of his sister to cancer, and the death of his mother a few years priors, have made it difficult for him to channel his thoughts and energy with the focus to which he is accustomed. [...] I am concerned that he uses humor to avoid his grief. It’s important he understands that some coping mechanisms can delay the healing process. There are resources that can help him, and I will continue to offer them when and where I may. [...]

Trace demonstrates strong tactical leadership, but can also plow ahead without consensus. I don’t believe there’s any lasting friction with other team members. He’s well-liked by the others and has a solid working relationship with Specialists Yumiko “Hibana” Imagawa, Mike “Thatcher” Baker, and Emmanuelle “Twitch” Pichon. He can be quite the social-butterfly in his downtime. [...]

A few things to work on: Trace has excellent communication, when he chooses to use it. He’s has good strategies but sometimes tends to “lock in.” I know that he’s capable of being a more agile thinker, so I’ve given him some tips on how to recognize when he’s becoming too… bullheaded. [...]

There’s a lot going on behind his smile. I’d like him to find a way to regulate himself, to find balance for his work and private life. Trace doesn’t show obvious stressors, opting instead to channel any anxious energy into something positive such as the the R&D lab. It has been difficult to convince him that he needs a break from his role and identity as an operator. Shifting his attention to other intense tasks isn’t a solution. [...] I’ve given him some mental relaxation exercises that don’t demand considerable time, but can be tackled throughout the day. Imagawa, in particular, can be a good influence on him since she regularly practices mindfulness techniques to focus and relax. I hope he will take her advice to heart.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

USMC Close Quarters Battle School

USMC Methods of Entry

USMC Helicopter and Rope Suspension Techniques Master Course (HRST)

Texas A&M: Bachelor of Science, Chemistry

FBI Field Agent

FBI SWAT

Relevant Experience:

Two tours of duty in Iraq

Fleet Antiterrorism Security Teams (FAST)

Notes:

Device: Brimstone BC-3 Exothermic Charges

Operators: Specialist Jordan “Thermite” Trace

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Yumiko “Hibana” Imagawa

Thermite’s Brimstone was one of the first devices tested in the lab. It’s the same way he has to be the first through any reinforced walls. Always has to be first. :)

On the day of testing, Specialist Trace was busy developing additional prototypes as he did during Operation Chimera and wasn’t immediately available. Since I’m very familiar with Exothermic BC-3 Charge and have an expertise in explosive ordnance, I volunteered to conduct the evaluation.

Our tests included adjusting the mixture stages to see if we could achieve stronger and more concentrated “melt”. The results helped us clearly determine the chemical reaction times at peak temps. Our tests on the Brimstone BC-2 Exothermic Charge went well and produced some surprising results. Some were enough of a surprise to lure Thermite to join us (that was fun!). We’ve been able to book extra time to apply some of the data to his prototypes. I’ll file another entry as soon as we’re done.

--Yumiko

Castle

Background:

“Listen up, people: No one dies today. Any questions’ll just have to wait.”

Miles Campbell graduated from Cal State LA with a bachelor’s degree in Criminal Justice and promptly joined the LAPD. Recruited into LAPD SWAT, Campbell excelled in tactical support and high-risk incidents. His careful application of dynamic and deliberate entries made him a Captain early on, while his exceptional perimeter control earned him his first commendation.

Always interested in the safety of his team, Campbell worked tirelessly to perfect defense and reinforcement techniques and equipment. He has earned multiple commendations since his first and is a certified firearms specialist. Transferred to the FBI as a field agent where he trained with the German Federal Police (GSG-9), he was then recruited into the FBI SWAT team. Campbell has participated in cross-departmental training sessions with international law enforcement agencies, including the SAS and GIGN.

Psychological Report:

Within minutes of my first meeting with Specialist Campbell it was like being with an old friend. He has an easy-going manner. We joked over American football and our football - side note: look up the origins of the word “soccer.” I have a 20 quid bet on it. [...]

Reports repeatedly mention that Campbell is referred to as “papa bear” or “the diplomat” among the Rainbow operators. He described how he smoothed over a heated discussion between two operators the other night. It’s clear that he’s the team’s social glue. This, and his openness, means that Campbell can be grouped with any member of Rainbow. I’m not surprised that he’s the one with whom Specialist Eliza “Ash” Cohen feels the most comfortable. [...]

His sense of fair play is clear in both his personal and professional life. I wondered if it was ever a struggle for him, given what he’s seen. Without hesitation he told me: His job is to protect those who can’t protect themselves. Beyond the sense of justice that motivates him, he has a desire to transform things for the better. [...]

Our discussion explored his appreciation of teammates, world cultures, and his love for the abused dogs he’s rescued. Campbells a curious person, someone who enjoys learning for learning’s sake: Habitually staying up late to watch any sort of documentary certainly makes him a kindred spirit for me. He draws his positive energy from his parents, who have been married 42 years and are still madly in love. Along with inheriting their work ethic, it’s their playfulness he tries to emulate. [...]

Campbell is a hopeful person. He believes in the potential of people - all people - and wants to be an agent of change. He’s so concerned for others that he may overlook his own needs. I suspect this is what sparked his recent blow-up after a training exercise. His frustration with himself was evident. One of his strategies hadn’t played out the way he had hoped. Clearly, we need to make sure he gets as much encouragement as he offers to the others.

-Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

California State University, Los Angeles (Cal State LA): Bachelor of Science, Criminal Justice

LAPD: Police Officer, SWAT

FBI: Field Agent, SWAT

Relevant Experience:

GBI New Operator Training School (NOTS)

Multiple cross-departmental training sessions with Federal and International law enforcement including SAS, GIGN and GSG 9

FBI SWAT WMD training

Notes:

Device: UTP1-Universal Tactical Panel

Operator: Specialist Miles “Castle” Campbell

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Miles “Castle” Campbell

Simple and sweet, that’s how I like it. When i first joined Rainbow, the techs started showing me all sorts of contraptions, but I wasn’t going to be someone’s guinea pig. Do you know how many times Bandit complained about getting shocked or Maverick sucked on his fingers because the torch ran too hot? From what I understand, my Universal Panels are unique because they use nucleation, which allows the carbon nanotubes to guide polymers into longer chains. This makes for stronger panels, the kind of toughness that Kevlar can’t approach*. And I’m fine with that. All these nanotubes make for a lighter load. Just rolls them down, nail them into place, and we’re ready to throw down. Better than those heavy-ass deployable shields.

*I had to memorize that part so I could recite it to Specialist Chul Kyung “Vigil” Hwa in Korean.

--Specialist Miles “Castle” Campbell

Pulse

Background:

“The heart is just a motor. Like any machine, it can be fine-tuned.”

Born on Seymour Johnson Air Force Base, Estrada was raised on bases across the US and internationally, in Germany, Turkey, and Japan. His father was a pilot and his mother was a classified Senior Intelligence Officer. Estrada demonstrated acumen for science at an early age and was quickly moved into an advanced curriculum. His focus on Forensic Science and Biochemistry made him a perfect fit for the Biometrics Program with the FBI, which he joined as their youngest intern. He secured his role as an agent and was soon recruited into SWAT, working both in the field and in the FBI Lab. Estrada’s high emotional intelligence led him to join the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team (HRT) where he excelled in crisis management and negotiation tactics. His knowledge of behavioral biometrics led to the creation of the Cardiac Sensor, along with several other prototypes which he continues to refine.

Psychological Report:

During operations, Specialist Jack “Pulse” Estrada keeps his cool and consistently maintains sound judgement. So to meet someone with such boyish enthusiasm was an entertaining surprise for me. The conversation was a lively circuit of topics from biology, fighter jets, and scuba diving, to something his father builds in his spare time: Muscle cars. I had honestly never heard this term before. It completely baffled me. Estrada had to show me pictures. [...]

We discussed his childhood fascination with biology and chemistry. That he wanted to be an astronaut, and he jokes that he still might be. He’s fascinated with the concept of alien life-forms. Which, upon mentioning it, prompted him to describe his deep-sea diving expeditions with bouncing excitement. [...]

What does make Estrada quiet and contemplative is the mention of his mother. He becomes serious and there’s a wistful tone in his voice. It was his mother who first noticed how good he was at deconstruction micro-expressions. She encouraged free-thinking and let him decide the pace of his academic studies. A naturally private person, her work in military intelligence made her even more so, but because Estrada can so easily read others I think it bothers him that he’s unable to read his mother at all. [...]

Life is a sense of adventure and Estrada is ready to grasp it all. It’s a healthy attitude and I wonder how his upbeat energy affects the group. Estrada told me that he’s working on being more in the moment, “slowing time.” He’s striving to be more mindful. I asked if anyone in particular had encouraged this new point of view, but he avoided the question. [...]

Even under the most extreme conditions, Estrada puts his team first; naturally they all speak highly of him. Estrada says it’s the caliber of his teammates that makes him so dedicated. [...] He and specialist Jordan “Thermite” Trace are close, but there is some professional rivalry between Estrada and Specialist Monika “IQ” Weiss. They seem to enjoy goading one another. I’m not concerned. If anything, it benefits Estrada to be challenged once in a while.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

Purdue University: Bachelor of Science, Forensics; Master of Science, Biometrics

FBI Biometrics Intern

FBI Biometrics Operator

FBI SWAT Negotiator

Relevant Experience:

Virginia Task Force 1

International Red Cross and Red Crescent Movement

Watertown operation

Notes:

Device: HB-5 Cardiac Sensor

Operator: Specialist Jack “Pulse” Estrada

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Jack “Pulse” Estrada

Hey, Mira. As per your request, here are the specs for my HB-5 Cardiac Sensor. In a nutshell, the sensor uses microwave radiation to detect heartbeats because microwave radar technology has enough fidelity to distinguish human from animal heartbeats. My device takes it a step further by allowing you to “silence” the heartbeats of friendlies. It still detects them, but doesn’t alert you in order to reduce the noise while information gathering. Now here’s the caveat… I’ce already patented the HB-series and the latest variations that will be sent to various emergency management organizations to help locate survivors at disaster sites. While I’ve used it in hostage situations, the original intent is to help urban search and rescue teams. This is first and foremost a humanitarian tool, and my copyrights will guarantee that.

--Specialist Jack “Pulse” Estrada

Twitch

Background:

“Machine learning and teamwork have one thing in common: Always lead by example.”

Pichon grew up in a family of academics in the historic city of Nancy, France, where the children were encouraged to excel in Math, Science, and Technology. Early participation in sponsored computer programming competitions led her joining the army cadets at sixteen. Almost immediately her talent was recognized, particularly in robotics. Her superiors quickly encouraged Pichon to study engineering while continuing her career in the military. From the start, Pichon’s focus has been on adaptable technology that aids soldiers in the field. While there is much praise for her technological achievements, Pichon’s tactical prowess and ability to problem solve quickly and efficiently make her a crucial operational asset. Pichon’s unique combination of talents made her well-suited for GIGN and, later, Rainbow. She is fluent in French, English, and German and her current research focus is AI.

Psychological Report:

Technologically creative isn’t a term I’ve heard before working with Rainbow. According to Specialist Emmanuelle “Twitch” Pichon’s field reports, it’s the most concise description for her. Of course, it doesn’t encapsulate all of who she is. There’s more depth and surprises to Pichon than anyone expects. [...]

There is some academic rivalry between Pichon and her sister, a physicist, but nothing serious, she tells me. It’s endemic of the perfection her family instilled in their children. Her father told her to strive to be incredibly every day and that it will resonate out into the universe. [...] The Rainbow team speaks highly of her both operationally and in a social setting. Specialist Gustave “Doc” Kateb, in particular, appreciates her intuition and empathy, while others such as Specialist Olivier “Lion” Flament praise her technological know-how.

I wanted to know how Pichon interprets technological creativity. She said it’s the way she sees things differently and yet remains aware that she’s seeing things differently. So I suppose I would add “philosopher” to her myriad descriptors. [...]

She’s a very hands-on researcher. The manner in which she gets right up close to a robot, interacting with it the way someone would a child or pet, illustrates her innate compassion. Pichon is currently teaching AI empathy so that it can, in turn, teach it to humans. I’d love to delve into this further, and have plants to visit the lab. [...]

Because Pichon’s passion for technology as a way to improve quality of life drives her in research and in her military career, I wonder if she isn’t at times being too idealistic. She’s an excellent operator with many skills to offer besides the tech, and I want to give her more thought to where the human factor is crucial. [...]

Her background and interest in AI means one of Pichon’s favorite pastimes is people watching. Whether it’s settling into a restaurant or taking a bus, she goes wherever there are crowds of people and studies behavior. Travel, too, excites her. The list of where she hasn’t been is shorter than where she has.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

Self-trained robotics expert

French Army: 6e Régiment du Génie

Relevant Experience:

Operation Unified Protector

Operation Serval

Operation Barkhane

Notes:

Device: RSD Model 1 - Shock Drone

Operator: Specialist Emmanuelle “Twitch” Pichon

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Emmanuelle “Twitch” Pichon, Project Lead Defense R&D

Let me start by saying how much I appreciate that both Dr. Harry (Six) Pandey and Elena (Mira) María Álvarez, Director of Research and Development, have implemented this evaluation review of all equipment.

I’ve attached a detailed schematic of the current RSD Model 1 (Shock Drone) device. Being able to run the current Shock Drone through controlled tests provided me with much needed additional data. With Elena’s permission, I’ve scheduled further lab time to try some rough prototype ideas.

I’d like permission to add my name to the schedule for evaluation of Specialist Max (Mozzie) Goose’s device known as “Pest”. Because it’s such a powerful counter I’m interested in participating in the tests.

[Comment_E Álvarez: I’ve looked at the schematic with your new modification ideas, and I’m thinking you should get IQ’s (Specialist Monika Weiss) feedback on them. Also, re: Mozzie. There are some issues with the Australian’s availability. If you want to fly there to observe the tests, we can discuss. Mira.]

--Twitch

Montagne

Background:

“Every conflict is an iteration upon the last. Every scar, a victory.” Touré began his career in law enforcement as a uniformed police officer with the National Gendarmerie. They used his imposing form whenever there was a need to show a strong police presence, earning him a spot in the Mobile Gendarmerie where the focus was on crowd control as well as military and counter-terrorism patrol missions. Touré’s push for extensive training provided him with a broad skillset and earned him a position in the GIGN. Though he’s best utilized for his breaching techniques, Touré also has training in combat engineering and reconnaissance. When not deployed with Rainbow, Touré is an instructor at GIGN.

Psychological Report:

Specialist Gilles “Montagne” Touré’s imposing presence, along with his unwavering gaze, is impressive and (as a tactic) I can see how it can be unsettling. He’s a man of few words, even among his friends. I chose to visit him at one of the GIGN Training Centers so that he’d be more comfortable talking. [...] Observing Touré with his trainees gave me a better sense of him. In this capacity he was accessible, fair, and even gregarious. [...]

We started by discussing his role as an instructor. Touré was excited that Rainbow continues to evolve and is proud to be a part of it. He told me there’s always a lot to learn from his peers and that, lately, he’s been trying to stretch beyond his comfort zone. He certainly has taken the lead on including more virtual simulation in our training. He’s hoping to incorporate the unique skills of operators such as Specialist Grace “Dokkaebi” Nam in his next sessions. [...]

Touré has a naturally protective nature. His choice to enter law enforcement speaks more to that than his family’s military history. The middle of four - his two brothers are also in the military - Touré said that the family raised them to be protectors. Their parents recounted stories of various ancestors who fought for what was right. [...] He believes that education is the solution to many of the world’s problems. His sister finished her police training but switched to teaching when she felt that was where she could do the most good.

Because Touré has an understated confidence, I was surprised when he expressed doubt over his role in Rainbow. Many of our operators are exceptionally skilled with languages. Touré isn’t. None of the reports suggest this is an issue, but even a perceived weakness can become debilitating. I encouraged him to select one - only one - language to focus on studying, and asked some of the other specialists to make an effort to include him in their conversations. If all goes well, it’ll feel less like he’s being tested and more like he’s being folded into the group.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

Gendarmerie Nationale

Gendarmerie Mobile

Relevant Experience:

Prise de la Grande Mosquée

1994 hijacking, Marseille Provence Airport

Joint training exercises (CENZUB)

Certified GIGN trainer

Notes:

Device: Extendable Shield “Le Roc”

Operator: Specialist Gilles “Montagne” Touré

Evaluation Lead: Dr Elena “Mira” Álvarez, Director of R&D

Gilles Touré’s Extendable Shield was one of the first to arrive for evaluation. Le Roc’s heavy black surface is covered in deep battle scars and definitely stands out against our R&D facility’s pristine labs. According to Pulse (Specialist Jack Estrada), it was like the Monolith from 2001 A Space Odyssey had landed. I didn’t understand this reference until he linked images from the movie - he’s right!

Having Monty participate in some of these control tests has given us a better perspective of what he’s up against (and what he puts others up against). The shield has had some modifications in the past and we have had a solid list of adjustments we may want to consider eventually. For now, Montagne’s skill with the Extendable Shield has always been solid. As long as Specialist Touré has good support and communication with the team, Le Roc will continue to do its job as designed.

--Dr Elena “Mira” Álvarez, Director of R&D

Doc

Background:

“My job is to keep you alive. Make it as hard as you like.”

Of Algerian and French descent, Kateb grew up in an affluent family in Paris’ 16th arrondissement. He comes from a well-respected lineage in both the military and medicine. In his second year of medical studies with the prestigious Université Paris Descartes, Kateb answered the appeal for volunteers in Médecins Sans Frontiéres (MSF). He has subsequently volunteered numerous times on emergency frontline aid missions around the world. Upon graduation, Kateb declined a prominent private medical practice in favor of a career with the French Defense Health Service. Kateb’s main disciplines is toxicology and ecotoxicology. He has authored studies on biological agents and their effects on at-risk population and damaged environments, and contribution reports to the European Centre for Disease Prevention and Control (ECDC). Recognizing the ongoing need for doctors, Kateb continues to volunteer with the MSF. He is a highly regarded medical officer for the commandement des forces spéciales Terre.

Psychological Report:

Specialist Gustave “Doc” Kateb’s wealthy upbringing could have easily turned him into a narcissist, yet he’s one of the most accessible and thoughtful people I’ve encountered. Surprisingly, he didn’t have much interest in being a doctor. The impetus seems to stem from family tradition, though it’s clear his grandfather’s military service was a strong motivation. Kateb admitted that he almost quit at the end of his first year because he didn’t feel any passion for his work. I gather his father thought the mention of “passion” was absurd. [...]

In his second year, Kateb volunteered for MSF and that first mission still resonates with him. The squalor, the chronic lack of supplies, the desperate need. He remembers how the look of worry on the mothers’ faces subsided as they gathered near the tents. That’s when he found his passion at last. [...] Encountering people with so little, it’s understandable that Kateb said that he felt shame. What’s interesting is that he described embarrassment as well for the life he still had. [...]

Field reports reflect Kateb’s selfless acts, yet he has explicitly chosen a combat role. That piques my interest. It was some time before he was willing to share his story with me. During a frontline op in East Africa, the hospital where Kateb worked was stormed by local militia. All of the patients he fought so hard to save were killed. From this horrendous event he realized it was within his power to save lives with a scalpel or bullet. [...]

Kateb’s proclivity for conflict resolution is just one of a dozen skills that make him an asset to Rainbow. It’s clear the team trusts and respects him. He’s developed a strong bond with Specialist Emmanuelle “Twitch” Pichon, due in part to Pichon’s use of technology to lessen the risk on human lives. Unfortunately, there is also unresolved animosity with Specialist Olivier “Lion” Flament over quarantine procedures that saw several of Kateb’s aid worker friends killed. For now, the situation is stable, if nonreciprocal. That may be the best we can hope for.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

Université Paris Descartes: Bachelor of Science, Health; Master Toxicology and Ecotoxicology; Doctorate Medicine, Toxicology, Chemistry, Imagery (MTCI) French Defense Health Service

Army Special Forces Brigade

Relevant Experience:

Opération Turquoise

MINUSCA Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF)

Notes:

Device: MPD-0 STIM PISTOL Operator: Specialist Gustave “Doc” Kateb

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Gustave “Doc” Kateb

The first thing we’re taught in battlefield triage is MARCH, or looking for and treating in order: Major Hemorrhages, Airways, Respiration, Circulation, and Hypothermia. The first, blood loss, is always the greatest danger and while my stim pistol delivers the necessary dosage of epinephrine to stimulate the heart and dilate the cardiovascular system with adrenaline, the dose also includes micro-pellets that functions as near-instant coagulating agents. They race through the circulatory system, sealing up internal bleeding and damaged blood vessels, and filling in wound cavities from the inside, preventing soldiers from bleeding out. I don’t like the idea of keeping wounded soldiers on their feet, to be frank, but I also know that a soldier who can still fight will save yet more lives.

--Specialist Gustave “Doc” Kateb

Rook

Background:

“If you’re going to get shot, you may as well do it right.” Nizan’s father is a respected stone mason while his mother held multiple jobs. They both informed his sense of architectural design and precision, helping him earn top rankings in school. Along with Nizan’s intellectual interests, he excelled in athletics from an early age, including Track & Field, fencing, and cycling. He later dropped out of university to cycle across France before returning and joining the Gendarmerie. Nizan thrived in his training, which included specialized qualifications in weapons, surveillance, and criminal investigations. His adaptability put him at the top of the list in military and defense courses, quickly catching the attention of the GIGN. His first operations with that unit combined all the elements to satisfy his endless pursuit of challenges and adventure, according to staff psychologists. Specializing in hostage rescue and surveillance, Nizan’s list of successful interventions is extensive.

Psychological Report:

In reviewing Specialist Julien “Rook” Nizan’s file, what stands out is his ability to adapt to demands. Very quickly into our conversation it was clear that Nizan’s interests are wide-reaching. From his descriptions, it sounds like his parents imparted their eclectic tastes. Julien and his sister, Élodie, were especially encouraged to be curious about everything. I would argue that it’s this openness to the world around him that led to the creation of his protective - yet still highly flexible - armor plating. [...]

Nizan’s father is a stone mason, which requires imagination, precision, and dedication. His mother’s ability to explore different vocations with verve - bookkeeping, street busker, florist, tour guide, sommelier, and chef - all strongly influenced how Nizan adapts to challenges and what goals he sets out for himself. [...] The field reports reflect some of Nizan’s chameleon-like way of merging into whatever role is required. This kind of versatility is rare - I’ve asked leads such as Specialists Gustave “Doc” Kateb and Miles “Castle” Campbell to challenge Nizan more during operations. [...]

I’m curious about how Nizan went from studying architecture to joining law enforcement. He grew up passionate about cycling, auto racing, and rock concerts, and he spent an inordinate amount of time trying to device as scheme by which these could become careers. Ultimately, his interests evolved. Dropping out of university to cycle around France gave him his first sense of freedom. And then his world expanded further when he returned. At that time, the Gendarmerie enlisted his civilian father for an anti-corruption sting with local businesses. Nizan told me he was fascinated by the level of planning required by the police. [...]

Right from the beginning, Nizan remembers appreciating the broad spectrum of skills and range of expertise required to be in law enforcement and the military. Every day is a different. [...] Nizan is one of the more constant optimists on the team. His ability to energize other specialists is important, and he’s certainly well liked. I’d like to see Nizan’s sense of adventure put to better use, however. Complacency benefits no one.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

Gendarmerie Nationale

Garde Républicaine

Relevant Experience:

GIGN Marksmanship champion

Notes:

Device: R1N “Rhino” Armor - Armor Pack

Operator: Specialist Julien “Rook” Nizan

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Gustave “Doc” Kateb

Lab time has been limited. I understand this. But Specialist Julien Nizan’s R1N “Rhino” Armor Assessment has been bumped off the schedule four times! I was informed that this was due to the straight forward nature of the Armor Pack and therefore doesn’t require a full lab analysis. This is not ideal. How are these being prioritized? I’d like to have a meeting with Dr. Harry Pandey and Director Elena Álvarez (Six and Mira) to discuss the lab schedule priorities.

The R1N’s composition of boron ceramic plates can limit damage from small arms and effectively “buys time” from fatal impacts so that medical assistance can reach the team in time. As we all know, this is the single most important thing in combat - survival! With something so simple it’s really exceptional and deserves respect. Please, let’s discuss lab time.

--Doc

Glaz

Background:

“Information keeps you alive. It’s how you find your way out of the dark. That, and a flashlight.”

Timur “Glaz” Glazkov’s formidable skill as a sniper served him well within Spetsnaz. He has an exceptional talent for observation and attention to detail. Glazkov grew up in the seaport city of Vladivostok, where he studied art.

In 2004, militants took a school hostage in Beslan resulting in the deaths of numerous people, including children. This motivated Glaz to join the Ground Forces of the Russian Federation. While training at the prestigious Khabarovsk Military Commanders Academy he developed unparalleled marksmanship and was immediately recruited into the 45th Guards Regiment. Assigned to special ops and VIP protected detail, reports consistently show that Glaz possesses a unique creative approach to problem-solving. He is the squad member with the most expertise in long-range scoped weaponry.

Psychological Report:

What stands out about Specialist Timur “Glaz” Glazkov is his wit. It’s surprising from someone so intensely focused during operations. He won’t share his gallows humor with me because he says a civilian wouldn’t understand, and he may be right about that. Still, I find him engaging in our discussions. [...]

Glazkov possesses many traits expected of a highly-trained marksman and field reports demonstrate his knack for improvising in tough situations. His ability to deconstruct complex concepts on the fly likely comes from his artistic sensibilities. [...] I asked what his influences were when he was studying since Vladivostok was quite remote back then. As Glazkov’s father worked in shipping, he had access to plenty of bootleg music and books. [...] His paintings are vibrant -- expressive. They’re more than an escape, perhaps a spiritual cleansing or a depiction of how he perceives suffering, but I’m far from a qualified art critic. [...]

He grew up in the Far East, and his exercises at the Academy included cross-border training with China. His knowledge of Mandarin and China’s culture should prove useful. [...] The rest of his upbringing seems typical: Getting into trouble, getting himself out again. Early operational reports are - let’s say a tad thin. And while he’s clearly self-aware, he’s not willing to discuss much with me. [...]

Glazkov is well-respected by his team. His humor and observational skills make him tolerant of personality extremes and he seems to be among the few operators who strategizes well with Vicente “Capitão” Souza. He laughs when Alexsandr “Tachanka” Senaviev tells him it’s because he too almost lost an eye. [...]

The mark on his right eye - a scar - is from a weapon kick, though his smile leads me to believe that’s not the whole story. I’ve noticed he subconsciously rubs it when he’s bothered. It may be nothing, or may be his “tell,” if how he plays poker with the FBI SWAT contingent is anything to go by.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

Cadet Corps

Ground Forces of the Russian Federation

Khabarovsk Military Commanders Training Academy

Spetsnaz: 45th Guards Regiment

Relevant Experience:

Russo-Georgian War

Deployed in REDACTED

Notes:

Device: HDS Flip Sight OTs-03 MARKSMAN rifle

Operator: Specialist Timur “Glaz” Glazkov

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Sebastien “Buck” Côté

The OTs-03 high-powered sniper weapon of Specialist Glazkov’s (Glaz) exceeds all previous Russian designs. I’ve always been eager to try it. Since I happen to be a marksman in my own right, R&D Director Elena “Mira” Álvarez chose me to test it - under the sharp eye of Glaz. (It’s not his staring that unnerves you, it’s that he sketches you while he does it…) The single-point cut-rifled barrel is a key reason this weapon is so effective. There’s no stress on the barrel and no wobble or drift. So if you still miss it’s because you aren’t Glaz. Even a precision weapon as good this isn’t much without the HDS Flip Sight. The OTs-03 has an integrated rail for mounting optics with a tandem configuration allowing quick access to the HDS. This thermal detection is a point of pride and contention among operator discussions. This weapon provides faultless technical backup for someone with faultless skill.

--Buck

Fuze

Background:

“Chaos is only an enemy if you’re unable to adapt.” Growing up in a military family in Samarkand, Uzbekistan, Shuhrat Kessikbayev immigrated to Russia shortly before the fall of the Soviet Union. From an early age Kessikbayev displayed an aptitude for science. His interest in mechanical engineering was honed in the military where he also trained as a machinist. Kessikbayev has applied these skills in numerous engineering projects, including his own weapon, and his ability to improvise in the field with scrap materials and minimal tools has made him a legend among his fellow recruits. This is one of the key reasons he is an asset to Rainbow Operations. During his time in the 27th Motor Rifle Brigade he excelled as a sharpshooter and has extensive weapon knowledge. Deployment within the Spetsnaz is confirmed, however all operation details remain classified. Kessikbayev is fluent in Uzbek, Russian, Ukranian, and English.

Psychological Report:

To say that Specialist Shuhrat “Fuze” Kessikbayev is restrained does not give the full picture. I was reminded of my grandmothers phrase: “Talking to him was like pulling teeth.” When other operators referred to him as mysterious I thought they were joking. I wouldn’t say that he’s difficult. He’s quite pleasant and hospitable. But he is… contained. It took some work but we finally managed to have a revealing conversation. [...]

Kessikbayev is quiet except with Specialist Timur “Glaz” Glazkov. When he does speak, people tend to hang off his every word. Field reports mention that Kessikbayev readily makes himself available in team planning but often falls into a cone of silence during operations. It’s critical that he maintains communications with his team, otherwise there may be further altercations such as the one with Specialist Siu Mei “Ying” Lin regarding civilian casualties. This is doubly critical given some of our operators come from units with “zero casualty” rules [...]

It was necessary to address past reports about Kessikbayev’s recklessness, so I asked him to describe an operation from his point of view. His objective, he explained, is to break down the defenses as efficiently as possible, but insists he isn’t careless. It’s clear that his creative engineering skills are a critical asset. He’s highly intelligent and calculating. While hard-hitting, Kessikbayev does possess good situational awareness. I suggested that he concentrate on improving this during future ops. [...]

I was unable to ascertain any details about his brother who is allegedly MIA. That file remains classified. However, I did manage to get Kessikbayev to open up a bit about his personal life. He was engaged for two years but the wedding was called off after he decided it was “not the road to take.” A proud Uzbek and a proud Russian, Kessikbayev said that growing up his parents encouraged them to embrace all that was Russian, so it wasn’t until his teens when he learned to embrace his Uzbek heritage. I asked him to elaborate on the experiences, but in his typical understated way he simply replied, “It was interesting.”

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

27th Motor Rifle Brigade

Spetsnaz GRU GSO

Relevant Experience:

Participant in the Ratnik gear program

Personal cluster charge, the “Matryoshka”, designed by Kessikbayev, first saw action in [REDACTED]

Notes:

Device: APM-6 Cluster Charge “Matryoshka”

Operator: Specialist Shuhrat “Fuze” Kessikbayev

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Jordan “Thermite” Trace

I’ll admit that I’d already jumped on the device evaluations even before I received the official request. No surprise there, right? Mira always has the R&D lab running at full throttle. So when she asked me to look at Shuhrat’s APM-6 Cluster Charge it took me no time at all to write up my report.

I was already familiar with the Matryoshka, having studied its trigger mechanism in relation to my Brimstone charge. The mechanical assembly is modeled after aerial bomb fuzes where detonation is tied to a fuze with an integrated firing pin. It’s less sophisticated than my Brimstone, but it doesn’t need that to be effective.

Clearing rooms and flushing out defenders is its primary function and I’d say it operates as designed. It actually has a benefit in that some targets are terrified of the boom. Shuhrat obviously understands the importance of classical conditioning. I just wish it only affected the people he’s going up against, but that's the problem with high explosives - they don’t discriminate.

This gadget is a beast. And that’s something, coming from me.

--J. Trace

Kapkan

Background:

“There are many different kinds of cunning. Fortunately, survival requires only one.”

Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda and his brothers grew up in Kovrov, surrounded by the influence of the Russian military. Both parents worked in the military support factories, his father in mechanical engineering and his mother in textiles. Encouraged by his parents and teachers, Basuda joined the Ministry of Internal Affairs as a police officer. Along with the standard training of weapon expertise, protection detail, and high speed pursuit, Basuda showed adroit skills with hostage rescue and information gathering. Clever strategies and self-sufficiency meant that Basuda was perfect for an undercover operation in the port town of Naryan Mar of the Barents Sea. His successful efforts to shut down organized crime prompted his recruitment into the highly respected Spetsnaz. Basuda became an avid hunter and trapper during his time in the Arctic Circle, before behind transferred to Beslan in 2002.

Psychological Report:

On first impression, Specialist Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda can come across as jaded about the world and his role in it. Oftentimes those who are most frustrated sound as though they don’t care, when in fact they care a great deal. It’s important to Basuda that he’s able to make a lasting contribution and so, despite his cynicism or because of it, he’s taken it upon himself to mentor other soldiers. [...] Even though some find him intense, they all speak highly of him. I asked him if he thought he had changed much over the years. He laughed and told me the one change he has noticed: He still eats flint for breakfast, only know he knows when to take his words back. [...]

Basuda enjoys a number of hobbies centered around weapons and hunting, so naturally I wanted to hear what the appeal was for him. A hunter, Basuda told me, needs to think strategically, to understand the animal’s routines and behaviors, but it’s also imperative that the hunter respect their prey. [...] Any true hunter respects animals. They understand conservation and the need to maintain a balance. Wolves and bears play their part perfectly, he told me. Basuda said this understanding makes him a better operator because he can apply it to people - both in how they’re like animals, but also in how they are not.

For Basuda, life is harsh - made harsher by humans. Decisive action and level headedness are what matter. Like wolves - not the fairy tale kind, but the real ones - Basuda considers himself loyal. Wolves, he explained to me, are devoted to family. All members raise the young, and they work together as a team when hunting. [...] Given his explanation, I wondered if he may feel somewhat lonely. A wolf without a pack. At my mention of it, he laughed and tapped his temple and told me he always loves brain science - that my job studies the mind but then is almost always about the soul. Listening to him wax philosophical, I couldn’t help but agree.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

Ministry of Internal Affairs, Police Officer

SOBR

Relevant Experience:

Beslan School Siege

REDACTED

Notes:

Device: EDD MKII Tripwires

Operator: Specialist Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Tina Lin “Frost” Tsang with Specialist Maxim “Kapkan” Basuda

It’s exciting to be a part of these evaluations. So I want to extend my thanks to Rainbow Director Harry (Six) Pandey and Director Elena “Mira” Álvarez for including me. Because of my Welcome Mats, Mira felt that I’d be the best choice to take a closer look at Kapkan’s EDD MK II traps. So Kap and I got right to work running our gear through a series of tests: Stress, deployment, and tactical. We made use of every part of the state-of-the-art lab.

Over the course of its development there have been various adjustments made to the EDD MK II. It was updated with a lighter alloy and a revised design has made it more flexible. Overall, the EDD is functioning well and we’re happy with the results (attached).

I learned more about Kap over these past few days than from all of the operations we’ve been on together! He taught me a few new tricks. And despite what he says, I think he learned some things from me too.

--Tina

Tachanka

Background:

“They told me I’d died. They were wrong. I was reborn.” Many of the men in the Senaviev family served in the Red Army. At the age of eighteen, Senaviev was conscripted into military service just as the Soviet Union was ending its operations in Afghanistan. Upon the dissolution of his draft, Senaviev opted to enlist full time. He was part of the wrestling league, where his formidable frame and match strategy earned him accolades. Along with heavy artillery, Senaviev’s training focused on defensive and breaching tactics, and while there he apprenticed as a precision tool and die machinist in the weapons division. Senaviev applied for a transfer to the Russian Navy but for classified reasons remained in the Armed Forces.

Psychological Report:

Calm in a crisis: Specialist Alexsandr “Tachanka” Senaviev’s original file doesn’t cover much more than that. So along with our meeting, I wanted to dig deeper into field reports and observe him in training before I could reassess his background.

Senaviev has a boisterous sense of humor with a booming laugh. He can be quite blunt, but without the intent to offend. Personally, I appreciate someone with clarity. [...] He’s dedicated to his team and is focused and calm during operations. That said, I’ve also observed some frustration. There’s a contingent of specialists who passionately support him, yet Senaviev feels he has potential that he doesn’t know how to maximize. It’s clear he wants to be a devastating force so I suggested changing his approach. If he studies his team, in particular, he should search for gaps in their strategy. It’s there he may just find a place where he fits. [...]

Senaviev’s younger sister is a doctor and our discussion had barely started when he was showing me photos of her in her doctor’s smock, along with a dozen more photos of his nieces and nephews and his own kids. [...] He and his sister grew up in a strict household without many things, which is why he makes a great effort to enjoy life. They both make sure that their kids are loved and raised with laughter. At the same time, he doesn’t like to buy or accumulate physical objects and emphasizes this with his children, much to their consternation. I suspect that’s also partly to do with his divorce. [...]

Though Senaviev is dedicated to his country and appreciates the life his patriotism has brought him, he was adamant that his son and nephew no make a career out of the military. “They can do obligation,” he told me. “Then go be useful in something else.” And so what Senaviev wants for his family and friends - for them to find a role where they find useful - is what he’s trying to find for himself. It’s up to Rainbow, as a team, to guide him.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

Soviet Army

Russian Ground Forces

Relevant Experience:

Soviet-Afghan War

First Chechan War

Second Chechan War

Russo-Georgian War

Notes:

Device: Mounted LMG - RP-46 Degtyaryov Machine Gun

Operator: Specialist Alexsandr “Tachanka” Senaviev

Evaluation Lead: Dr. Elena “Mira” Álvarez, Director of R&D

Yesterday my day started with being handed a flight case that looked like it had been dropped ten thousand feet from the plane, and then dragged behind the delivery van before it reached us. Inside, the LMG had as many battle scars as the outside case. Even before checking with Tachanka - Specialist Alexsandr Senaviev - I knew that’s how it looked when it was put inside.

Tachanka doesn’t want anyone to “touch his toys” but he understands these evaluations are crucial for team operations. The LMG has had so many modifications to it already - mostly by Senaviev - that it’s in a category of its own.

We are in the process of testing a number of prototype options. In the meantime, I’ve attached a list of possible adjustments we can make to this LMG, if I can get Tachanka to let us make the changes.

--Dr. Elena “Mira” Álvarez, Director of R&D

Blitz

Background:

“I don’t like photos of myself. The lighting is always wrong.” Kötz is a graduate of Hermann-Böse-Gymnasium, an elite academy specializing in science and language studies. Throughout his educating Kötz excelled both academically and athletically. Among his many unique abilities, Kötz is multilingual with the ability to grasp the nuance of a language quickly. His physically imposing frame and skill with his weapon make him formidable in space, room-to-room deployment. It’s his tactical experience that secures him as a solid Rainbow elite. These abilities combined with his specialized academic background and good-natured personality make him highly sought after. He easily transitioned from a Schnelle Kräfte soldier in Kosovo to a member of the GSG 9. Kötz has been integral to fostering training practices and good will between India’s National Security Guard and GSG 9.

Psychological Report:

Specialist Elias “Blitz” Kötz has seen his share of intense combat but is physically and mentally resilient. His temperament can best be described as jovial, though his team prefers to describe his sense of humor as “goofy.” I know my son would agree. Kötz uses humor to help diffuse stressful situations. It’s appreciated by his teammates and holds more value than his previous commanders gave him credit for. [...] It’s not that he doesn’t take his job seriously. In fact, quite the opposite: On a number of occasions he was the first to rush a barricade and has often placed the team’s safety over his own. The fact that Kötz prefers to not consider his acts as heroic is a quirk of his personality, but certainly no detriment to his performance. [...]

I like to think of myself as physically fit. Of course I realize these specialists are in a class of their own but even there, Kötz stands out as exceptional. He jokes about how often our med team files requests to strap him to some new machine so they can keep testing his physical limits. For anyone else the attention might be overwhelming, but Kötz takes it all in his stride. [...]

For his easy laugh and quick wit, there’s an earnest passion to Kötz. In the midst of telling me how his childhood was fun and free, he suddenly stopped. All joking aside, he said, “We have a responsibility to look after one another. I take that very seriously.” I have no doubt. [...] I’ve noticed that Blitz is a close confidante with Specialist Lera “Finka” Melnikova. When I asked him about it, he said they enjoy making fun of each other. She impresses him, he told me. It makes me wonder if he harbors some guilt because he’s in perfect health. [...]

Kötz’s mental dexterity can’t be overlooked, yet he often neglects to use it during operations. His amicable friendship with Specialist Gilles “Montagne” Touré may be a pathway to expanding Kötz’s application of his own abilities, and a way to hone their competitive edge.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

International Baccalaureate Hermann-Böse-Gymnasium

Division Schnelle Kräfte

Relevant Experience:

Special Team 6

Trainer: National Security Guard (India)

Notes:

Device: G52-Tactical Light Shield Operator: Specialist Elias “Blitz” Kötz

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Elias “Blitz” Kötz

Flash and bash - Kapow! Is all you need to know.

Serious, when Six and Mira (Doctor Harry Pandey and Director Elena Álvarez) issued a directive to have all of the equipment evaluated, I volunteered to put my G52-Tactical Light Shield through rigorous tests… as long as they treated me to lunch. :)

The flash shield has had modifications that improve the flash and make the shield’s weight lighter. I speak for all operators when I suggest that lighter is always better. Lighter makes faster!

[Comment_E Álvarez: Yes, Elias. I’ve made a note in the file. We’ll do what we can. Mira.]

So it’s all working very well. One last thing! When i opened this file there was already a note: Blitz’s G52 is Flash and Bash aggressive and yet Elias is the total opposite! He’s the sweetest, funniest person to hang out with.

I have no idea who wrote this, but they are correct. I am the funniest and the sweetest.

--Blitz

Background:

“Life is the ultimate Rube Goldberg machine.”

Weiss’s mother is a renowned mathematician and her father is an inventor whose high academic standards encouraged Weiss and her siblings to win numerous awards in math, science, and music throughout the school years. Thriving in the gifted program enabled Weiss to complete her first internship with a local tech company at the age of sixteen. She was invited to MIT, where she focused on electrical engineering, achieving accolades for her research in Microelectronics. Weiss then joined CalTech for graduate studies in experimental electrical engineering. Weiss returned to Germany to work with military technology research before joining the Bundespolizei (BPOL) as an officer. Both the physical and mental challenges of the job appealed to Weiss and she quickly moved through the ranks. After two years with the BPOL she was recruited by the GSG 9.

Psychological Report:

Specialist Monika “IQ” Weiss is as active physically as she is intellectually. When she does manage to pull herself away from rock climbing, spelunking, and - well, countless other athletic and intellectual pursuits, she writes science-fiction. During our meeting, Weiss exuded so much natural vitality that I felt the same exhaustive rush I felt from completing my first marathon. [...]

Weiss says that she and her siblings are typical overachievers and jokes that even she gets worn out at family gatherings. It’s clear they’re important to her and she confided that she doesn’t have any close friends because only her family understands her.

It isn’t unusual for people with exceptional intelligence to be uncomfortable socializing. Of course, I’m not interested in pushing Weiss into making friends - that’s not my role, nor hers. But I do think she would benefit from reaching out to some of the other specialists beyond the usual training exercises and research. [...]

Her parents encouraged Weiss and her siblings to stretch their imaginations as much as their intellect. She described her mother as “someone madly obsessed with finding patterns in chaos.” Her father was the kind to launch experimental rockets from the family garage. It’s hardly surprising, then, that Weiss inherited their combined talent for focused disruption. [...]

Weiss was coveted by companies and universities from around the world, but she chose law enforcement. That fascinated me. She said it was an opportunity to work with state-of-the-art equipment and express her love for her country at the same time. I pointed out a third reason - academic research can be rewarding but it's typically highly focused and structured, leaving less room for the wildly creative approach that Weiss naturally possesses and that our special operations encourage. [...]

Field reports mention that Weiss can become obsessive when tackling challenges. In the same vein, she suffers from bouts of insomnia. I suspect the latter stems from the fact that Weiss simply doesn’t want to “give up the day”. If she’s to be of utmost use to Rainbow, it will be important that she learns when and where to let go.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT): Bachelor of Science Electrical Engineering

CalTech: PhD Electrical Engineering

Bundespolizei

Relevant Experience:

GSG 9: Protection detail (Iraq)

GSG 9: Technical unit GSG 9: Airborne operations

SWAT training with both Bundespolizei and GSG 9

Notes:

Device: Electronic Detector RED Mk III “Spectre” Operator: Specialist Monika “IQ” Weiss Evaluation Lead: Specialist Monika “IQ” Weiss

Under the direction of both Six and Mira (Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey and Elena “Mira” Álvarez, Director of Research and Development) I’ve been helping lead a team of specialists for the department’s equipment evaluations. As the battlefield evolves, technology needs to evolve too!

Evaluation tests of the RED Mk III “Spectre” in the lab have been mostly positive. The frequencies have been adjusted and the scanner has improved. It’s always been a goal to have the gadget’s detection communicated to the team in real time. Field tests for this modification are attached.

One final note: I noticed Specialist J. Estrada (Pulse) was added to the tech lab schedule. The last time he was in the lab his “prank” modifications to the Spectre were not even mildly amusing. If he’s going to hang around the lab and participate in the evaluations I suggest we all keep a close eye on him. He isn’t as funny as he thinks he is.

--M. Weiss

Jäger

Background:

“Birthdays. Proposals. These should be surprises. No one wants a grenade to the face.”

Raised by his uncle, a mechanic with the Bundespolizei (BPOL) Aviation Group, Streicher was around engines and motors at an early age. While he demonstrated skills in mechanics, it didn’t hold the challenge that he was looking for. Since he had an affinity for complex machinery, his uncle encouraged him to study aeronautical engineering at university, but strict academic form was uncomfortable for him. So while Streicher’s grades were acceptable, he had a tendency toward restless antics. Following his hobby and passion in flying, he spent a considerable time around pilots and aircraft. Private corporations sought him out, but Streicher joined BPOL-Aviation Group because it offered him unique challenges, the opportunity to fly and serve his country. Almost immediately, Streicher began designing defensive weapon systems for BPOL including a ground-based Active Defense System (ADS) prototype. It was this prototype that caught the attention of GSG 9 and Rainbow.

Psychological Report:

Specialist Marius “Jäger” Streicher has a creative curiosity that’s reflected both in his operations and his daily life. The first part of our conversation was spent discussing a documentary that he watched the night before, about scientists searching for new antibiotics. Streicher was so caught up in it that he sent the link to Specialists Gustave “Doc” Kateb, Emmanuelle “Twitch” Pichon, and Lera “Finka” Melnikova. I’m sure they were all equally interested, if maybe not thrilled to be contacted so early in the morning.

That was only the start of our conversation. Streicher discussed other documentaries that he found fascinating: NASA sending a probe to the sun, new discoveries about Tyrannosaurus Rex, really anything to feed his voracious appetite for information on any subject. Robotics and artificial intelligence are the topics he seeks out the most but he enjoys almost anything. [...]

Streicher’s lively energy made for a dizzying meeting. Though the conversation wasn’t erratic, it had a path, I admit I wasn’t able to see it until I noticed that he often mentions the team: Wondering if so-and-so is doing alright after the loss of their dog, if another one received the birthday card he sent, and other references. Streicher enjoys sharing information so that he can make connections. Not just his connection with individuals, but a web of connections among everyone. [...]

His own upbringing wasn’t particularly lively or warm and the small family meant that he had very little company his age. He told me that his uncle was a fussy man - nitpicky. Streicher appreciates his uncle and all that he taught him, going so far to say that his uncle made him a better person. But Streicher did also say that his uncle was closed off and had no sense of humor. I believe the translation is “grouchy bean counter.” Understanding this background shines some light on why Streicher is so eager to create these connections with his team. He sees them as family. It certainly explains how intensely protective he is of all of them either on operations or during downtime.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

Karlsruhe Institute of Technology: Bachelor of Science, Aerospace Engineering

Bundespolizei: Helicopter Technician, Weapons Maintenance

GSG 9: Technical Advisor

Relevant Experience:

CQB training for operations at sea

Involved in anti-piracy ops

Notes:

Device: ADS-MKIV “Magpie” Automated Defense System

Operator: Specialist Marius “Jäger” Streicher

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Marius “Jäger” Streicher

Mira tasked me with the evaluation of my ADS-MKIV “Magpie.” Spending hours in test lab sounds like my type of vacation - no joke. I’m always on the look-out for where things can be improved. For reference, I have attached the field test data for comparison. Data-Data-Data!

Before we get to that, let’s explore the importance of studying defensive strategies alongside breaching techniques throughout history, as well as the evolution of tech -

[Comment_E. Álvarez: References on defensive strategy, historical analysis of strategies, historical documentaries, list of favorite books have all been archived. *Marius, the details are interesting (and I agree with some of your favorite movie picks) but please keep this file focused on the tech results. Mira]

Now that those references help explain my tactical approach, we can better understand these tech results (attached). To sum up: The Magpie is operating at optimal performance. My gear and my operator strategy will - as Pulse says - “continue to cause many salty tears” for our opponents.

--Jäger

Bandit

Background:

“Survival is all about timing. Nature doesn’t give second chances.”

Brunsmeier and his twin brother were raised in a working class district near the Berlin Wall. Their father worked in the police force and strongly encouraged them to join. While working with Bundespolizei (BPOL) Brunsmeier excelled in crisis situations. He transferred to the Aviation Group long enough to obtain his helicopter license but his adaptability and experience with border surveillance flagged him for undercover operations. He was embedded as an undercover agent in the terrorist organization Red Army Faction (RAF) and later in the Hannover Chapter of the Hell’s Angels. In both operations Brunsmeier’s contribution was critical in seeing key members arrested and providing valuable information. While undercover, Brunsmeier honed skills in guerrilla tactics and improvised explosive devices. He developed prototypes of his electrified barricade and deployable shield. He is fluent in German, English, Polish, and Turkish.

Psychological Report:

I wouldn’t expect an operator who worked undercover for years amongst dangerous biker gangs and militants to be anything less than clever and adaptive. And in re-reading Specialist Dominic “Bandit” Brunsmeier’s file I’m struck by just how resourceful he had to be. It’s clear he had to be creative and strategic to stay alive. Frankly then, I was surprised by his sense of humor. It must’ve sustained him through his undercover operations. That said, he can have a cold intensity. Nothing reminds me that I’m a soft civilian more than looking into Brunsmeier’s eyes.

Brunsmeier certainly speaks fondly of his brother. He enjoys being an uncle to his brother’s kids - how they’re the only ones who let him be as silly as he’d like. He told me about their childhood in the shadow of the Berlin Wall. How sometimes they’d hear a BOOM from something triggering a land mine. And how they couldn’t resist pranking the patrol guards with some twin antics. [...]

I didn’t want to ask about the undercover work directly. It wasn’t until our most recent meeting when he volunteered some information. Brunsmeier described the challenge of remembering the real “upi” when immersed in another persona. The question: “Who are you?” would creep into his sleep. If he dared to form an answer, he knew he was as good as dead. Even considering the question was dangerous. So he would push it away. We discussed details of what he had to do to ensure his cover wasn’t blown, the source of some fantastic rumors circulating about him. Smiling, he assured me they’re only half true. I don’t want to break his confidence here. I merely need to assess if it has any lasting impact on him and the Rainbow team. [...] The most I can offer at this time is that the team works well together. [...]

It’s critical that Brunsmeier doesn’t close himself off. Training scenarios alongside operators such as Specialists Miles “Castle” Campbell, Emmanuelle “Twitch” Pichon, or Elias “Blitz” Kötz could help. These operators have calming attributes that may temper Brunsmeier’s inner demons.

--Dr. Harishva “Harry” Pandey, Director of Rainbow

Training:

Bundespolizei formerly known as Bundesgrenzschutz (BGS) Bundeskriminalamt (BKA): Abteilung

Relevant Experience:

Undercover: Red Army Faction, Weiterstadt prison bombing

Undercover: Hannover Hells Angels

Notes:

Device: CED-1 Crude Electrical Device “Shock Wires” Operator: Specialist Dominic “Bandit” Brunsmeier

Evaluation Lead: Specialist Jack “Pulse” Estrada

Given that the CED-1 Crude Electrical Device “Shock Wire” is a fairly straightforward tool in Specialist Dominic Brunsmeier’s arsenal, he was surprised when I told him it was scheduled for evaluation. Bandit’s more of a grease monkey and so he seemed out of place at first in test facility. (Note: Need more lab coats in size Large. I’m not letting him wear mine again. I don’t know what the hell he spilled on it, but I recommend it be incinerated).

So far we’ve collected a solid amount of data. The fun part was running a series of mods to maximize its capabilities and naturally Bandit had his own methodology and tricks up his sleeve. In my opinion, if we want any future modifications the best bang for our buck is to explore battery configuration. Bandit is in the “if it ain’t broke” camp, so it’s going to take some convincing. Let’s tag it as “in progress.”

--Pulse

#r6s #r6 #rainbow six siege #rainbow six #siege #not comics #text #ok so update on the whole comics situation if you dont follow the insta- i had to give myself a break from working on the comic that i #originally wanted to post so the next comic is gonna star amaru cause i got sudden inspiration #sorry for not saying more i am just so tired im not joking when i say i spent over nine hours on this its literally almost 3am #also sorry for any mistakes in this i tried to copy it word for word but some got a little janky midway #-O

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