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#like yeah i know how to efficiently use a search engine
sharkneto · 1 year
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my first ever poll because i'm being attacked by my twin for how i google things and i need to know if i'm valid or weird
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heliads · 3 years
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Radio Silence Chapter Two: Off the Air
Poe Dameron has been assigned to work as an intel receiver to Acer, a Resistance recon agent. They’ve only ever talked through the comms, so when she’s captured by First Order troops he assumes she’s lost forever. When Poe accidentally rescues the absolutely infuriating Resistance spy Y/N L/N from a First Order Star Destroyer, he knows she’s got nothing do with with Acer. Right?
previous / series masterlist / next
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Poe doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s been days since the sendoff. The suns rise and fall in different corners of the galaxy, he gets shipped off to different parts of the system in the hopes that doing something will make him feel anything at all. Nothing seems to register with him, nothing except the fact that Acer is gone. What is he supposed to do now?
He is supposed to continue on. He is supposed to swallow the loss and keep moving. He’s a commander of the Black Squadron, he’s closer to General Organa than half the guys on her staff. The issue isn’t finding things to do, it’s trying to put his heart into them. Poe knows his duty, and he knows that whatever mess he’s wallowing through right now isn’t the most efficient or effective use of his time. But it’s not that easy to turn your heart on and off like a droid, is it?
He can still hear her laugh echoing from his speakers. His feet keep unconsciously directing him towards that one recording room in the back, where he should have gone day after day. His eyes latch onto the chronometer on his wall, and he always feels that familiar rush of panic- it’s twenty standard hours, he’s going to be late and Acer’s going to tease him for it- but then he remembers. There’s no channel to open, and Acer can’t say anything to him at all if she’s locked in a dingy cell in some unknown part of the galaxy.
He can’t break the habit of expecting to talk to her. The first day after the connection severed, he was actually standing in the doorway of the receiving room before he realized where he was. He hadn’t remembered because of the nagging knowledge that Acer wouldn’t be there, or even a newly labeled placard on the door designating the room to some other scrawny operator. No, it took the sight of someone else sitting in his chair, using his same navicomputer, for the truth to finally sink back into Poe’s brain.
It hurt, in a way, to see that room reused. Just like that, Acer’s memory was wiped clean. The Resistance had to move fast to survive, he knew that, but the facts still don’t ease the leaden weight on his chest. Just seeing that guy there, listlessly spinning in the same chair Poe had always used, dusting off that spot on the console where Poe kicked his feet up even though he knew he shouldn’t, felt like watching someone walk over your own grave. The guy had looked up, confused, and Poe was forced to murmur some excuse about leaving his blaster parts lying around before leaving the room at last. He still wanders over there from time to time, and still has to force himself away.
He can’t help but wonder where she is, how she’s doing. Acer was tough, he knew that. If anyone could make it out of a First Order cell with nothing but the shirt on her back and enough wiles to command an entire base, it would be her. But hopes can’t take down a squadron of stormtroopers guarding your cell block, and they won’t get you a ship. Like it or not, Poe has to face the truth: Acer won’t be making it out, and mulling over this all the time won’t do her any good.
Poe thought he was doing a good job of keeping his feelings to himself until Finn walks up to him one night. Poe is bent over his X-Wing, methodically fiddling with the latches and panels in the hopes of getting distracted over his favorite ship. He’s always turned to the X-Wing for a diversion from his problems, and especially as of late. Leia’s been kind enough to keep offering him piloting missions, even though he’s sure there’s a list of pilots waiting for parsecs for a shot to fly their ships and take down some TIE fighters. 
Poe just knows that he needs the jump in his stomach when he’s looping around in uncharted space, trying his best to keep his problems on the ground while he soars around in the air. Maybe he takes more risks than he usually does while he’s out flying, but that’s nobody’s business but his own. He’s doing good for the Resistance, and he’s not stuck in his head. Are a few scrapes and close calls really that big a price to pay?
Finn saunters over, taking in the grease on Poe’s hands and the frenetic focus surely lining his eyes. Finn leans his back up against the ship despite Poe’s protests. “I got us a mission. We leave in two days.” Poe raises an eyebrow. “Exciting. Are we patrolling again?” Finn can’t help a proud grin. “No, we’re flying into First Order airspace in an old Mandalorian Needle.” Instantly, Poe’s attention is caught. He drops the multitool in his hands into a bag, turning eagerly to Finn. “You got us a Needle? We’re going where, the Unknown Regions?”
Finn laughs at Poe’s sudden enthusiasm. “Exactly. It’s nothing too big, just a supply dropoff to some potential allies in the Kinoss system, but it’ll be a good show. It’s right near a First Order hotspot, too, so you’ll have to keep your eyes open.” His friend pauses a second, then grins. “Sure you want to take it up? Or are you too busy moping over your radio friend?” Poe glares at him. “If you keep that up I’ll drop you off and run the mission myself.” He can’t stay mad for long, though. “A Needle. Man, I’ve wanted to fly one of those for years.”
Poe still can’t believe it’s real. Sure enough, however, he finds himself sitting in the cockpit of a Mandalorian Needle in two days’ time. Poe has to sit for a second, just staring at the controls and the ship itself. Smooth metal, blue highlights, round engines, sleek shapes and a powerful engine- Poe loves his X-Wing, but he might make an exception for this ship. Finn, next to him, chuckles softly. “Are we going to leave anytime soon or do you just want to look around for a while?”
Poe hits his friend on the shoulder good-naturedly, but he begins liftoff with a grin. The ship itself is a little large for one or two pilots, but they’ve got to carry a fair amount of cargo. Finn readies the controls next to him, glancing over through the transparisteel windscreen. “Don’t get too carried away. This is a quick mission, in and out. No trouble as far as we can help it.”
This, however, turns out to be a grave miscalculation. Sure, the trip to the Kinoss system is easy enough, and they’re able to drop off the supplies without too much risk. Judging by the state of the planet, Poe is fairly sure that they’ll be able to sway the inhabitants to the side of the Resistance without too much effort. It will be good to have the manpower, and to have a potential source of information located inside First Order airspace.
It’s on the return journey, however, that things begin to get a little dicey. First, they’re spotted by a couple of TIE patrols. Just when Poe thinks they’ve managed to lose them, they get caught by another squadron. He has to pull some fancy flying, which gets the ship away from the TIE fighters but a quick hyperspace jump lands him directly in front of a massive Star Destroyer. The Needle itself does not portray any signs of being a Resistance craft, but their sudden appearance still sets off alarms inside the ship, which leads to them being caught by a tractor beam before Poe can steer them away. He has no choice but to sit there in his beautiful yet useless ship, watching the Star Destroyer loom closer and closer above them.
He turns to look at Finn. “A quick mission, in and out. No trouble. What happened to that?” Finn returns his gaze. “Hey, don’t look at me. I’m not the one who managed to end their hyperspace jump directly in front of a Star Destroyer.” Maybe it’s a sign that he really is going insane, but Poe breaks out into a laugh. “I really did, didn’t I? Right in front.” Finn snorts. “You had great timing, I’ll give you that.” 
Poe allows himself a few more seconds of laughter before standing up and starting to move away from the console. “We’re both wanted by the First Order, if they find us they’ll either capture us or shoot us and save themselves the trouble. We’ve got to hide, and seeing as this is a Mandalorian vessel I have a hope that…” Poe’s voice breaks off as he taps around on the plasteel panels lining the walls, and eventually one comes loose in his hands. Poe cheers inwardly. “Here we go- secret panels. We can stay here and pretend we evacuated.”
Finn nods. “Reminds me of the time Rey and I hid from Han Solo. That time, though, we were in the Millennium Falcon and we were in the floor instead of the walls.” Poe turns to stare at his friend. “You were hiding from Han Solo in the Millennium Falcon?” Finn vaguely inclines his head, studying the panels before him. “Him and Chewbacca, yeah.” Poe’s gaze is incredulous. “When did this happen? Where was I?” Finn shrugs. “I thought you were dead. I think you were with the Resistance or something.”
Poe considers the empty hollow in the wall before him, muttering something about why couldn’t he have just stayed in that TIE fighter on Jakku for a minute longer and he could have been in the Falcon with Solo, that would have been everything before crawling into the hidden space and pulling the panel shut behind him. He can hear Finn doing the same, and the two only have to wait for a couple of minutes before the rhythmic thud of stormtrooper boots echoes through the ship. The stormtroopers search for a long time, but the hidden spaces lock from the inside and the troopers can’t pull them open. At long last, they leave the ship, and Poe unlatches the panel, stepping back into the hall.
He carefully replaces the panel, dusting off his clothes before glancing around the corner at the boarding ramp. Two guards stand side by side, each in the pressed gray uniforms of First Order officers. Poe jerks his head towards the men and Finn nods, understanding. Silently, they creep down the ramp, knocking the men out without a sound before dragging the bodies back onto the ship. About a minute later, they stroll casually from the ramp, each dressed in a gray uniform. At least now they have a somewhat passing disguise- Poe doesn’t intend to get caught. 
Finn whispers over to Poe. “The tractor beams will be in a room near here, I think we can get over to them without too much trouble if we hurry.” Poe nods. “Whatever gets us out of here.” The room itself is large and spacious, and a few stormtroopers mill around the corners. They aren’t expecting to see two wanted Resistance men in stolen uniforms, and so Poe and Finn are able to get in and out without too much trouble. They have a close call on the way back where they almost come face to face with Captain Phasma, who would most certainly recognize Finn, but they manage to avoid her just in time by doubling back and taking a loop through some of the detention blocks.
They’re just a couple of halls down from the ship when Finn hesitates, staring at the placard next to a cell. Poe walks over to him, pretending that he’s just inspecting his boot to avoid suspicion. “What are you doing? We’re not supposed to be lingering by the cells.” Finn shakes his head. “I recognize this name. That’s a Resistance spy, and a really good one at that.” Poe squints at the sign. “Y/N L/N? I’ve never heard of them.” Finn straightens up, reaching for a key on the stolen uniform’s belt. “We have to get them out of here.”
Poe freezes. “What?” He hisses in a whisper. Finn glances around to make sure nobody is watching, then speaks hurriedly under his breath. “Y/N is a key Resistance officer, I see her name everywhere. I didn’t realize she was being held here, but if she is we have to get her out.” Poe checks the hallway, but no guards are coming. “Alright. Let’s do it, but hurry.” After a brief moment of activity, Finn manages to unlock the door and both men step inside, closing the door halfway behind them.
Poe’s steps falter as he takes in the contents of the cell. The walls are barren, with nothing in sight except an uncomfortable-looking plasteel bench. There’s a woman lying on the bench, a woman who lies sleeping with one arm curled under her head. She appears to be deeply asleep, and her eyelids flutter with each breath. Poe can’t help but stare- she’s one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen. Maybe he’s alright with Finn suggesting they save her.
Poe takes a step closer, and that is where he makes his mistake. In a flurry of motion, Y/N rushes from her bench to snatch the blaster from Poe’s belt while he’s distracted, holding it out at his head. Clearly, she wasn’t asleep at all but planning an escape. Finn and Poe hold their hands up defensively. Poe is the first to speak. “We’re not First Order officers, we just stole the uniforms. We’re from the Resistance.” Y/N narrows her eyes at them. “And why should I believe you?” 
Finn walks forward slowly. “We’re with General Organa. We know the code for greeting undercover officers- it’s Nighthawk, right? You can trust us.” Y/N’s gaze clears as she looks at Finn. “Wait, I know you. You’re Finn, right? You’re the renegade stormtrooper. Everyone’s talking about you over here, actually.” Finn smiles, surprised. Poe frowns. “You haven’t heard of me? Poe Dameron, ace pilot?”
Y/N raises an eyebrow, glancing over at Finn. “Does he always insert himself into conversations?” Finn chuckles. “Only sometimes.” Poe shoots him a look, but Finn just grins. Y/N considers them a moment longer, then lowers the blaster and returns it to Poe. “So, do you guys have a ship or are we just making a run for it?” Poe places his blaster back in its holster. “We have a ship, and a damn good one at that. Come one, we’ve got places to be that don’t involve Star Destroyers.”
Poe has no idea how they’re supposed to escort a high level prisoner into a ship, but surprisingly, they almost make it before someone notices them. Such is the power of a uniform and an abundance of confidence, he supposes. They’re just about to board before someone shouts over in surprise. “Hey, that prisoner shouldn’t be leaving.” This draws a lot of unwanted attention, and more than a few rounds of blaster fire. Poe, Finn, and Y/N are forced to run for the ship, Poe and Finn returning fire while Y/N steals a blaster from a downed trooper.
They make it onto the ship by the skin of their teeth, Poe racing to the cockpit to draw up the ramp before they launch hurriedly into space. Luckily, they were able to remove the tractor beam in time, and the Needle is fast enough to outrun the few straggling TIE fighters that still try to fly their way. Poe doesn’t feel his heartbeat start to settle until he begins the jump into hyperspace, and the lights of the stars blend into streaks around them. Only then does he look back at Finn, and at the newly arrived prisoner sitting in a chair behind him.
Y/N is methodically bandaging up a few wounds on her arms, evidently from her time in the cells. She looks up when she feels Poe’s gaze lingering on her. “What? Detention cells aren’t all fun games and fast ships, you know.” Poe forces a sarcastic grin, but for some reason, he can’t quite follow through with his usual retort. There’s something about this girl that feels familiar, although he has no idea why. He doesn’t know her, certainly, has never met her before, yet something tells Poe that he is a lot closer to Y/N L/N than he would ever guess.
radio silence tag list: @kesskirata​, @ubri812​, @itsnottilly​, @20th-centu-fairy-girl​
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depressedacadamia · 3 years
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5 times Leo hit on Calypso as her Barista and one time it worked
Word Count: 3.8K
Summary: Coffee Shop AU! Calypso is running late one day so she ends up going to a coffee shop- what she doesn’t expect is for her barista to be Bad boy supreme
Later on in this fic, they sing this song.
Warnings?: Not much, terrible pick up lines, mainly fluff, making out.
A/N:  This took me so long but alas, here it is! This is kinda my first official fluff and I tried okay. Anyway, enjoy, comment, share, like- you know the drill. <3 from moi!
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The 1st Thursday
Calypso was not happy with the line she was waiting in. She was running late and thus was at a coffee shop- somewhere she preferred not to go. The weather was terrible, grey skies as well as heavy rain that had Calypso drenched. The stupid forecast hadn’t predicted the rain and thus she had left her apartment without an umbrella nor raincoat. 
The coffee shop was small but cute, she had to admit. The staff seemed small but efficient and within a few minutes, Calypso found herself at the front of the line, face to face with a boy with rich dark tan skin and the most dazzling smile she had ever seen. He had long dimples and his dark curly hair would flop over his face in a cute manner.
“Hi, Welcome to Steamy Beans Coffee. I’m Super sized Mcshizzle and I will be taking your order today, do you have your order ready?” He looked up at the girl in front of him and immediately, his lips stretched into a lazy and goofy smile. She frowned at the nickname but internally she wanted to laugh, even his name badge read Super Sized Mcshizzle- Who called themselves that?
“Can I get a cappuccino with 2 espresso shots, please.” She reached into her bag to pull out her purse while the boy at the counter hummed and tapped at the machine in front of him.
“What kind of milk?” He looked up again, cheekily smiling as if he had something planned.
“Uh, almond is fine.”
“And your name?” He asked, pulling out a marker. Before she could answer, he cut in.
“Does your name start with a C-”
“-Actually it doe-” 
 “-Because I can C us together.” 
Calypso resisted the urge to smile and instead raised an eyebrow at the horribly cheesy pick up line. Despite this, she was a bit impressed- Her name did technically start with a C.
“Calypso. That’s my name,” She told him as she walked away from the counter and sat at one of the stalls, waiting for her name to be called out. 
The 2nd Thursday
Somehow, Calypso found herself queuing outside the same coffee shop the next Thursday. Whilst she told herself it was because the coffee was perfect, it was truly to see the brown haired grinning boy who had served her last week. Pick up lines weren’t really her poison, but he wasn’t creepy and even she had to admit it- He was cute. 
As the queue grew shorter, she grabbed her purse ready to pay. She had subconsciously chosen to wear better clothes and style her hair today. Was it a stupid decision to wear white when drinking coffee? Absolutely. But Calypso was 100% willing to take the risk. 
“Hi, welcome to Steamy Beans Coffee. I’m Bad Boy Supreme and I will be taking your order today, do you have an order ready?” The boy looked up, with his hair flopping about. He had rolled his sleeves up and Calypso, who wasn’t about to get caught, quickly averted her eyes elsewhere. She noticed that his name had changed- so had his badge. Did he have a collection of these names? She’d have to ask him next time.
Oh, so there will be a next time, huh? She asked herself. 
Shut up. 
“Oh. Calypso, right? Same as last time?” He asked as he hovered his finger over the machine.
“Oh, yeah. Cappuccino please.” 
As she waited for her name to be called out, she pulled out her sketchbook and started sketching the cute barista. From his elf like ears to his slanted chocolate eyes and the funny curl that went in the complete opposite direction of his hair earning him a messy hair look. It was only a basic sketch but it had outlined him. 
“Cappuccino for Calypso?” a familiar voice called out. She was slightly surprised to find her Barista also handing off her coffee but she also quite flattered. Or maybe she was just overthinking this. He could easily just have switched around for a friend- it can’t have been just for her.
“Thanks,” she murmured as she reached into her purse, trying to find the appropriate change in her purse. 
“You and I are like nachos with jalapeños. I'm super cheesy, you're super hot, and we belong together.” The pick up line rolled off his tongue as he leant over the counter separating them. He had a smirk that made Calypso immediately lose her strong front and spill her change all over the counter.
“What?!” she sputtered as her eyes darted to the change. She managed to scoop most of it into her arms without looking too much like a fool. She quickly grabbed her coffee and made her way out of the shop as fast as she possibly could, hoping she didn’t look as ridiculous as she thought she did. 
The 3rd Thursday
“You don’t understand, last time the pick up line was creepy. She probably thinks I’m a weirdo now!” Leo groaned as he slammed his head on the counter beside his friend Will who always worked the same shift as him. Unfortunately, Will did not get to witness what Leo kept on describing as ‘a catastrophe’. 
“She won’t come in today, I bet. Ugh, I really screwed up.” 
“It really can’t have been that bad!” Will argued, dragging Leo by the arm to the front counter. 
“I said You and I are like nachos with Jalapenos. I’m super cheesy, you’re super hot and we belong together.”
Will cringed. “Okay, that is bad.”
Calypso could not believe she was coming back to the coffee shop. The previous pick up line was terrible, in fact it was almost as bad as the ‘I’m here, what are your other two wishes’ pick up line that a creepy person had used on her earlier but in all honesty it wasn’t the barista that was the problem. It was the fact that she could not crush over someone with pickup lines as bad as those. This time, she had decided to use her card to pay so she wouldn’t have to deal with spilt change everywhere. 
“Hi, welcome to Steamy Beans Coffee. I’m Commander tool Belt- that’s because my major is engineering and I fixed the old coffee machine- how can I help you?” The curly haired boy in front of her said miserably while slumped behind the counter with his face practically leaning on the machine.  
“I was hoping for the usual?” Her meek voice came out questioning. Leo’s head shot off the counter, almost slamming into the machine. 
“Wow… uh cappuccino again?” 
“Yep…” she searched for something to say. “So engineering major huh?” 
“Mhmm. I like making things I guess. What about you?” 
“Natural sciences. I was going to do art but I guess plants and animals are more of my poison.” She shrugged. 
“You can draw?” he asked, his voice peaking interest and turning around slightly. 
“Yes, why do you sound so surprised at that?” 
He batted his hand. “Oh nothing, just something we have in common.” He then winked and Calypso had to do everything she could to not react. She stood in front of the counter, waiting for her coffee but saw that her barista was screwing his eyes up and writing something on a cup. She wanted to pull out her sketchbook and draw the cute face he was pulling, leaning back and holding the cup in front of him as if it were an invention he had never seen. 
“Cappuccino for Calypso!” A sing-song voice that could only be her barista called out. She had to admit, his voice was not bad. In fact, it was quite impressive and it had a nice harmonious tune to it. 
“Thank you…” she said in a suspicious tone, as she swiped her card over the contactless payment machine. Her barista was suspiciously silent and she had yet to hear a terrible pick up line. He had a mischievous smile as if he had set something on fire and not told anyone anything about it. As she picked up her coffee, she noticed a lot more black marker on the cup and held it away from her face to read it.
Are you made of Copper and tellurium? Because you are CuTe.
She wanted to face palm at such a classic science pun but she was also impressed that he knew elements of the periodic table so easily. She let out a small laugh to let him know that she had noticed the pick up line before she took a small sip and smiled. 
The 4th Thursday
“I’m telling you, she actually laughed at the line! That’s a good thing right?” Leo asked as he put on his apron. 
“And I’m telling you, if you want her to go out with you, hit her with a star wars pun,” Will ugred while tying his apron behind his back.
“You’re obsessed with star wars.”
“Hey, it worked for me and Nico!” Will pointed out as they made their way to the counter.
“Sun boy, we all know you and Mr Debbie Downer did not get together over Star Wars pick up lines,” Leo argued. 
Calypso was running late. She hated being late. It was like slowly ticking off the boxes for panic 101. She was wearing mismatched socks, had the wrong books for class and the laces of her shoes were untied. At least the line was significantly shorter than usual and while normally that would have made Calypso question the occasion, she was too much in a rush to truly care.
As she ran in, she tripped over her laces and almost fell had it not been for the arms of the person in front of her. As she looked up to find her saviour, she found herself face to face with the curly brown haired boy who today wore the badge of ‘Admiral Leo’.  She thought Leo was a nice name and it suited him very well- much better than any other name would have.
“Hey, tie your shoes!” he scolded her and she was surprised by his concern over her safety. Alas, she had spoken too soon, 
“I don’t want you falling for anyone else.” he murmured, his lips right by her ear and his hot breath making goosebumps form all across her neck. He then reached down onto his knees, and did her laces. However, she noticed the manner he did them were different to how she would normally do them. 
“You know that’s how children do their laces, right?” Her hands rested on her hips as he gasped dramatically and held his hand over his heart. 
“Are you calling me a child?” 
Before she could say yes, he cut her off.
“The answer is I totally am a child because that means I can eat off the child menu,” He grinned foolishly. “Life hacks with Admiral Leo!” 
The 5th Thursday
“I’m telling you Leo- Make the Star Wars pun. Please! For me, do it for me!” Will begged as he tied Leo’s apron for him. Leo was reluctant to go with a Star Wars pun. He didn’t know if Calypso would get it or if she was into nerdy stuff like that but he was running out of ideas. He hadn’t gotten any terrible sparks of inspiration and the Star Wars inspired pun that Will had told him couldt go too badly?
Nervously, Leo waited behind the counter, his hands tapping as if he had just slapped on a nicotine patch and then glugged 6 espresso’s. In other words, Leo was anxious. If he just made the drinks without thinking about it, he could get his mind off it but when he started remembering that she may walk in at any moment, he could feel his hands shake and his stomach begin to churn. 
Calypso was very happy. She had no classes today, no research studies to deal with and she had even managed her time well enough to hang out with a friend before heading towards her newly found and now favourite coffee shop. She knew it was it because of a certain curly haired and cheekily grinning boy. 
“Hello, welcome to Steamy Beans Coffee, I’m Flaming Valdez- don’t ask please- how can I assist you today?” He once again looked up and when seeing Calypso, he recited her order before the words could come out of her mouth. 
“Cappuccino with 2 espresso shots and almond milk?” 
Calypso, a bit shocked, nodded. She could feel small butterflies forming in her stomach thinking about how Leo had memorised her order. 
Stop being silly. He probably memorises every regular’s order. 
 “Soo… Flaming Valdez… what’s the story behind that?” She asked, despite his warning. Leo tipped his head back and let out a throaty laugh that had Calypso tingling all over- How can a person have such a gorgeous laugh? How can someone look so good while laughing? 
“Oh, that’s a good story. Every year, we celebrate the owners birthday by having the shop to ourselves. No customers, just the staff chilling. Anyway, so it’s like 9pm and we’re all meant to be out because it was sunset an hour ago but instead we’re still in the shop. Everyone’s gathered right out there because your boy, Flaming Valdez, brought in Roman candles!” Leo pointed to the chairs and tables outside the shop.
“Roman candles?” Calypso asked, a tad confused. Her face scrunched up a bit and Leo almost died from how cute her face looked.
“They’re like fireworks. There’s a slight difference with how the shell explodes compared to fireworks and they are a much more traditional version of fireworks but…” He trailed off when he noticed Calypso’s confused face- he just managed to remember that she wasn’t a nerd like him and didn’t study fireworks in her freetime. 
“Anyway, Will has the red ones and I have the green ones and so we literally start shooting them at each other like we’re re-enacting Harry Potter or something!”
“What! Can’t someone get set on fire from that?”
“Well yeah actually, they can. Will shoots one at me, sparks at my hair and sets it on fire. I’m running around trying to stop my burning hair while everyone is laughing. The crowd started cheering ‘Flaming Valdez’ and since then, they’ve adopted me that name. I’ve tried to get them to change it but it seems to stick,” he laughed while making her coffee. 
“Yeah, I think I’ve seemed to notice. Super sized Mcshizzle, Bad boy supreme, Commander tool belt, Admiral Leo and today- Flaming Valdez.” She listed all the names he would wear on his badges off her fingers. However, that may have been a mistake because when she looked up, she saw Leo shooting her a sly grin that made the butterflies start going crazy in her stomach again.
“So you remember my names, huh?” 
“It’s the nice thing to do,” she defended, a blush rising on her cheeks as she reached for some napkins.
Leo took a deep breath- he couldn’t believe that he was going to use Will’s Star Wars pick up line. 
“Do you like Star Wars? Cause Yoda only one for me.” The words practically rolled off his tongue and Calypso froze before breaking in laughter. She couldn't hold it in anymore- this was by far the funniest of all the pick up lines he had used. She pulled out a pen and scribbled something down on her sketchpad before ripping it out.
Leo, distraught, watched as she laughed at the pick up line. He should have listened to his gut and never made the pick up line. Oh gosh, he looked like an absolute loser now. Who makes Star Wars puns other than nerds? He handed Calypso the coffee and watched as she quickly left.
 He noticed the sketch she had left behind, it looked oddly familiar. In fact, he could have sworn it looked just like him. She had been sketching him everytime she waited for her coffee. He traced finger gently over the outline of his face, smiling. She had drawn everything in such detail, he felt like he was looking in the mirror but at the same time he felt she had facetuned him and made him look.. Well, perfect. Did she think he needed all these faults fixed? Or was this just how she saw him? She somehow made every flaw seem gorgeous and beautiful and he didn’t know how to feel as he looked at the bottom of the sketch. 
His eyes widened as he read the note left at the bottom of the sketch. 
Hey Leonidas (your co-worker told me that). Here’s my number - 07669833256. 
P.S- Star Wars puns ALWAYS work.
Yours truly, Calypso
“Leo? Are you good?” Will stopped to ask him. 
“Star Wars puns always work- you were right,” he said starstruck. 
The Next Friday
“Mamacita, get off those tables, I need to clean them,” Leo huffed, holding a spray bottle threateningly and a cloth in his other hand. Calypso, giggling and giddy hopped off the table. She watched as Leo quickly sprayed it down before wiping it. 
“Are you checking me out?” Leo’s smug voice cut through Calypso’s thoughts, snapping her out of mind. Her initial reaction was to stutter and wildly deny it however today at 7pm, she felt more bold than usual and decided to tease him a bit.
“So what if I was?” 
Leo almost froze at the bold response, not expecting the reaction from her. They’d been officially going out for one week and so far, Calypso had been quite shy. A kiss on the cheek here and there, a bit of innocent flirting but no one had really openly confessed their feelings. It was obvious to everyone around them that they liked each other but they seemed determined to have the other say it first. 
“Well if you were… " He turned around to see her smirking with both hands on her hips. He was not losing to Calypso- he would make her confess her feelings first if it was the last thing he did. She sat herself on the counter behind her and beckoned Leo forward with her finger. He raised an eyebrow at the bold move but obliged. 
Leo stood between Calypso’s thighs, his hands slipping around her waist. Their faces were close enough that if Calypso and Leo both moved their head slightly forward, they’d be kissing. Funnily enough, they both had started eating mints and chewing gum whenever they’d be with each other as if they were planning the moment. 
“I still can’t believe those pick up lines worked,” Calypso sighed, her hands moving onto Leo’s shoulders, comfortably rubbing them back and forth. 
“Bad Boy supreme is very much offended by those comments.”
“Nu uh. Ever since that blond co-worker of yours told me that your full name is Leonidas...” She paused to unsuccessfully hold in a small laugh. “...That your name is Leonidas, it’s been Leonidas and it will always be Leonidas to me.”
“Not even Leo?” He asked, his eyes entering puppy eyes mode. Calypso remained unimpressed and shook her head. Their eyes locked and they could feel each other's thoughts. Just as their heads were leaning in,the radio behind the counter bugged out and static started blaring everywhere. Calypso wanted to curse god- of coure something just had  to ruin the moment. Immediately, the two students shoved their hands over their ears and Leo jumped over the counter to quickly fix the horrendous noise. A few minutes later, About Love  by Marina started softly playing through the cafe’s speakers. 
The moment seemed like it was manufactured for a movie. The beautiful sunset on the horizon, the romantic music and most of all, Leo’s playful smile as he held his hand out asking Calypso to dance. She, of course, accepted and the two twirled about in each other's arms. They weren’t very good and they kept on stepping on each other's toes but eventually they got into a position where Leo’s hands were wrapped around her waist and Calypso’s arms were thrown around Leo’s neck. 
Leo watched as Calypso closed eyes and softly sang the words to the song under her breath. 
“Started in the strangest way, didn’t see it coming.”
Leo started singing with her, “My head gets messy when I try to hide.”
“The things I love about you in my mind” Their voices were harmonious and in sync. 
“I don’t really know a lot about love, a lot about love, a lot about love but you’re in my head, you’re my blood and it feels so good, it hurts so much.” Calypso had her head leaning on Leo’’s chest and she could hear the steady thumping of his heart quicken.
“Shall I take this as your confession of love to me?” He murmured into her hair. Calypso shot her head up so fast that she almost butted Leo in the chin. 
“Hell no, Leonidas.” 
Yet, as she said those words, her face leaned upwards towards Leo with her intense gaze falling to his lips. They looked soft, supple even and she felt so tempted to reach out and brush them. In fact, she felt so tempted to touch them that she didn’t even notice her actual hand reaching out to brush against his bottom lip. 
Leo had to physically restrain himself from shivering when he felt Calypso’s finger brush over his bottom lip, dragging it back slightly before slowly setting her hand at the side of his face. Slowly, like they were two magnets slowly attracting each other, they leaned in. When they were practically breathing in each other's face, Leo decided to spring one more pick up line on Calypso. 
“Did you know that my lips are skittles?” Leo cut in quickly. Calypso quickly frowned, not catching on. Leo continued, “ And you’re about to taste the rainbow.”
Calypso groaned, throwing her head back while Leo giggled to himself. Sick of chasing each other, Calypso grabbed Leo’s face with both her hands and smashed her lips into his, abruptly shutting him up. To say Leo was surprised would be the understatement of the year. He was in a true state of panic, thinking what he should do with his hands, his lips, his entire being. Her lips moved against his, encouraging him. He wrapped his hands around her waist, both of them moving up her back, pulling her into the kiss. 
They pulled away for a brief second, looking each other in the eye before slamming their lips back together. Had anyone walked in on them, it would have only been appropriate to say that they were devouring each other- their lips pushed and their hands pulled. Their lips moved in sync and Calypso weaved her hands into Leo’s curls. It was demonically passionate as their tongues slipped across each other's lips. The heat of the kiss spread across Calypso’s face- the blush was so obvious, she felt like her lips were on fire. Nothing could have stopped them, not even if the entire world was on fire. 
As they pulled away, Calypso had one more trick up her sleeve. 
“As far I’m concerned, the rainbow tasted pretty damned good,” She remarked, referencing to Leo’s previous pick up line. 
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mytwinklelights · 3 years
Text
A Reunion - Part 1 | Peter Parker x Stark! GN Reader
A/N: Remember over a month ago when I wrote this preview and didn’t post again? Oops sorry, I had to take a little break from tumblr because I was reading way too much fanfic. But now I’m back, just to post, still no reading for a while! Umm but yeah, here’s the first part! I can’t guarantee when part 2 will be posted but it’ll definitely be within the next 2 weeks! I hope you like it, please let message me with any feedback because I need validation to stay motivated lol
Summary: Y/N is an Avenger, the youngest Avenger. Then, Peter Parker comes along and they’re happy to finally have someone their age to hang out with, even if it was the boy they spent their senior year of high school crushing over.
Content Warnings: I don’t think there are any - let me know if I missed any though!
Genres: Friends to lovers, Stark! Reader, Frequent cameos from Avengers and them being cute, Slow burn, Fluff, Angst
Word Count: 2019
                                                             ----
“Alright gang.” Tony begins, standing in front of all the Avengers at the end of a large oval table in the conference room.
“I’m sure you’ve seen these ‘viral videos’ of this Spider-Boy kid swinging around the city and being a friendly neighbourhood vigilante. Well, Happy and I have managed to track him down and he’s agreed to join the team”
“Viral videos of superheroes?” Steve exclaims, looking at Tony whilst tilting his head and looking genuinely exhausted. “I’m still catching up on these keyboard cats and kids biting fingers”.
I giggle. Having Steve around was just the same as having an uncle you saw once the year who lived of the grid. He was extremely sweet, but utterly clueless to anything other than his job. But I mean, that job does include fighting evil aliens.
“Anyway…” Tony continues as the other Avengers chuckles die down after Steve’s outcry “he arrived not too long ago. Happy is next door giving him all the T&Qs and they should be done now. Let me just check and I’ll introduce you all.” Tony then leaves the room, and the other Avengers start to talk among themselves.
I pull out my phone and type ‘NYC spider boy’ into YouTube clicking on the second search result with 20 million views. I have seen this video before as my friend Michael sent it to me around a week ago.
“Do you think there are many other super kids wandering around the city?” Sam asks, whilst looking at the video of my shoulder. Currently the hero is stopping a city bus from off-roading into some confused tourists by building up a wall with his web.
“I doubt it, I mean I guess he’s the only one going viral” I answer, moving the angle of my phone so the others who have gathered around me can see “but it would be cool to be able to meet some people my age who do what I do, no offence guys”
They all laugh. Being the youngest Avenger and hanging out with 30+ year olds all the time can be kind of isolating, but it’s like having a super close family. A family who also happen to be in life and death situations regularly together. But that’s a great bonding experience I would say.
“Guys, this is Peter, the Spider-Boy” Tony draws our attention away from my phone to the door where he has just entered.
“Spider-Man” Peter mutters as a lame attempt to correct him.
“Peter?” I question and the boy stood in front of me was not who I expected. I didn’t expect the masked vigilante swinging through New York to be someone that I knew.
“Y/N?” He responds, looking even more confused than I am “What are you doing here?”
-
“So Tony Stark is your dad?” Peter asks.
After seeing a guy from your school who you shared a chemistry class with last year, walking into a super-secret meeting for superheroes where he will be now joining your team. It is understandable that Peter and I were now talking this out to figure out how this state could be so small.
“Yep” I answer. We were sat next to each other on bar stools at the kitchen island. Wanda made some of her famous fruit smoothies for us and we were both stirring them around with our straws whilst conversing alone in the main living space.
“But your last name isn’t Stark, or Potts?” He continues, genuinely really confused about this whole situation.
“Yeah, well you can’t have the daughter of a billionaire and superhero couple walking around New York City alone, going to a normal school, having normal hobbies. It’s like asking for me to be taken hostage. So, I don’t have either of their last names and the general public doesn’t know I exist. It’s for my safety” I continue, reciting this memorised answer I’ve had to say to multiple people once they find out my existence.
Peter nodded as if he was understanding everything, he probably was, but I guess this wasn’t the conversation he planned to have today.
“And you’re the great Spider-Man” I continued, wanting the change the subject from me to him. “How did that happen? Wait… were you Spider-Man when you sat behind me in Chem last year?”
He began to explain to me the story, it happened to him on our school trip to OSCORP we took last year for our Chem class that happened just before the end of the semester. Something about a radioactive spider. It was strange, kind of the weirdest superhero transformation story I’ve heard. And I’ve heard quite a few.
My story was nowhere near as interesting. I guess having superhero parents who were always around weird alien technology and contaminated substances led to some weird epigenetic alterations of their reproductive cells and then when they had me, I could turn invisible.
They didn’t know at first, I was seemingly a normal baby. Then at my 2nd birthday party when they surprised me with a freaky clown, I was so scared that my body just decided to turn invisible. They weren’t expecting it, the clown definitely wasn’t expecting it and they had to cover up with a very convincing lie.
From then, whenever I was embarrassed, scared or essentially in a situation where I wanted to disappear. I did. Literally. It wasn’t entirely effective though as even though my body tuned invisible, the clothes I was wearing didn’t. I spent the majority of my preteen years of being a walking hoodie and jeans with no head or hands protruding from the gaps. For my 13th birthday Bruce and I got to work on a suit which responds to the activity of my skin cells, when I was invisible, my suit was invisible. It made it a lot more effective for me to actually be invisible when I turned but it also meant my dad let me start training to become an Avenger.
Training was fun, I worked with Nat a lot in our gym in order to become an efficient fighter. ‘Just because people couldn’t see me, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t know how to serve a mean right hook’ she always said. I also spent a lot of time with Wanda, trying to manage my powers. Now I am able to actually turn invisible and visible again on demand. And it only takes extreme embarrassment now to turn me invisible against my will, which is great because mum and dad finally let me, after my years of begging, attend Midtown High and stop being home school. This is where I met Peter last year and now I’m at Columbia studying genetics and engineering. A double major, I know but when you’re around the top geniuses in the world everyday, there is no such thing as too much learning.
“So, I guess we’re the only Midtown Alumni to have these crazy powers huh?” Peter finishes. After a long ramble about his becoming a superhero story. I guess he wanted to ease the tension after I couldn’t really think of what to say after “that’s super cool”. It wasn’t like I wasn’t interested, I really was, but when I wanted to have another person my age to hang out with, I didn’t expect it to be the boy I spent my senior year of high school obsessing over. I had turned shy, like really shy, like my normal levels of shy times 50. I couldn’t think of what to say.
“Sorry, if that story was too long and boring, I’ve only gotten to tell it to one person before, my best friend Ned so I was kind of excited to be able to tell it again.”
“No, it wasn’t boring, it was genuinely really cool!” I say a little too loudly and enthusiastically. I cringe at my tone of voice and speak normally again as I continue “It’s just I didn’t really expect the new Avengers recruit to be you, you know, like someone I know. It’s just kind of weird, but nice? I don’t know, now I’m rambling”
Peter chuckles.
“Umm, so are you going to be staying with us whilst you train or are you going back to Queens?” I ask, hoping this new question will miraculously erase Peter’s memory of what I last said.
“A bit of both, my Aunt is back in queens and I don’t want to leave her completely alone, but this upstate facility is a little too far for an everyday commute. I’m here just for today but once I start training on Monday, I think I might stay for the whole week.”
“Well, I can give you the tour! Since you’ll be staying with us soon, I guess you’ll want to know where everything is!” I say whilst jumping of my bar stool and putting my half full smoothie cup in the fridge. I noticed peter has just finished his, so I grab the glass and put it in the dishwasher for him. He thanks me as I do so.
“So this is the kitchen, where we make our food, different from the kitchen where the chefs make our food for occasions, charity events blah blah blah. And also, this seating area here is kind of the main seating area where we’ll sit throughout the day. Lots of sofas because there are lots of us and this is Bucky’s armchair. Don’t ever sit in Bucky’s armchair.” I say, stopping behind the chair and resting my hand on the headrest.
“Bucky, scary guy with the metal arm right?” Peter questions whilst following me at a slight distance around the room as I show him around. I nod. “Yeah, don’t worry, I won’t be sitting in his chair” he laughs.
I continue to show him the rest of the complex, the gym, the labs and finish up on the floor with all our rooms.
“I’m not sure which one of these rooms will be yours because we have a couple spare ones, but they all have the same layout. Look I’ll show you mine” I walk into my room, then hold the door open for Peter so he can follow me in.
“Uh, so this is my room. Obviously, yours won’t be decorated like mine but It’ll be the same size and have an en-suite attached with a full shower and tub and stuff. You know, the basics” I say, whilst sitting on the edge of my bed.
“I like your room, it’s cosy” he adds whilst looking around and then heading for the bookshelf as soon as he spots it.
“Ah thanks, I mean it’s cool, bigger than when we were in the tower in the city so I can’t complain” I say whilst also looking around. What is it about someone else being in your room that makes you see it with fresh eyes and make you super self-conscious that there is going to be a rogue piece of underwear on the floor? Even though I know I tidied my room this morning.
“Holy crap, Vision you scared the life out of me” I say on an exhale whilst holding my hand to my chest after the large gasp I just made as he enters the room, through the wall.
“Sorry, but your door is open” He continues, “Mr. Stark has told me that your car is here to take you back home Mr. Parker. If you would just follow me, I can lead you there” Vision continues, as if him just floating through my bedroom wall and speaking to the boy from my chemistry class now turned superhero was a normal thing to happen on a Thursday evening.
“Oh… thanks Vision” Peter says with some hesitancy, you can see that this is a weird circumstance for him too. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday then” he says smiling at me and walking towards the door. Which vision doesn’t use to exit.
“Yeah, see you then” I smile as he closes the door and I’m left in my room listening to him shuffling down the corridor.
Part 2
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albino-whumpee · 3 years
Text
Unrequited Love
CW// Pet whump, dehumanization, human trafficking, amnesia, hot water burns, exhausted whumpee. Pretty mild one honestly. ^^
Ok i didn´t notice it before, but THIS is the corrected version. Idk what happened.  Also taglist? I didn´t tag y´all???
Taglist:  @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread​ @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70​ @twistedcaretaker
During the party, Zarai had gotten the contact she needed to talk to Dune’s Ceo. Or at least the first of three people she needed to stablish contact to get to Gil Jefferson.
So while she was hopping around searching for the phone number of her client, asking for extensions and generally being absent, the whole team needed her approval to finish their jobs. So Albus was the one in charge now.
“Albus, can you check this out and tell me if its ok, please? Was a question he heard at least ten times a day now.
“Serra, talk to management on the next floor and tell them we need the results now” he would nod and fly downstairs.
“Serra I need your sign for this budget…” Zarai had given her authority to do that after Robert’s visit.
“Serra I need your sign for this budget…” Zarai had given her authority to do that after Robert’s visit.
Any problem the marketing and development team had was managed by the albino with a few wretched nerves and increasing eye bags. Then he would inform an overly tired Zarai that everything was in order. But there was always a small mistake she would notice and make him fix in shouting everyone on the office was too surprised to never have seen Albus cry from.
Despite the shouting making it all the way to other side of the office, he simply remained calm, waited for her to finish and then apologized before going to fix it. He just continued to work efficiently. Until there were no mistakes to get yelled at.
Sometimes, one of the new trainees would ask him if he was alright, but he would look at them with a funny look and change the subject. If he was to be honest, he had fully expected to be properly punished when they were alone, at home. He was so grateful he could hang his role as Albus Serra for a moment and allow himself to be only Al, the pet who didn’t hide his collar.
He was bent over some newbie’s desk when he straigthened up with a smile “Now, you just need to click this button, and you will have the whole system on your drive in a few minutes”
The newbie looked at him with adoration “Thank you so much, mister Serra!” He had said with a gleam on his eyes that made him blush.
“Mister Serra, I’ve a few questions about the report I sent you” Albus trotted to the woman.
“Ah, yes. I checked and it’s looking fine. I already sent it so, dont worry about it and give a hand to Ryan, please” the woman blinked “I know it’s not part of your job but look at them…” he cocked his head to the glass covered office of five people laying over their desks, one fully crying and the other lost in infinity. “You’ve got a degree on computer engineering right? The development needs to find the exact problem today. Please lend them a hand”
“Yes, sir” she had answered before walking away. Albus froze for a moment. An strange feeling sitting on his stomach.
He didn’t have time to wonder what it was when he was called again.
Albus was staring at the ceiling, serving himself some coffee from the machine at Tony´s office when he blanked out for a second and heard the man yelp.
“Albus it´s spilling!” he shouted loud enough to make the boy react. His half open eyelids fixed on the cup and then on the floor before taking lots of paper and wiping the floor with it “I´m sorry! Imsorry,Imsorry,Imsorry” he muttered before the man grabbed his right wrist and pulled down his soaked sleeve to reveal a growing red spot “Dude you burnt yourself! Are you ok? Does it hurt?” he said lifting him up.
Albus head spinned wildly enough to make him stumble against a wall. The man passed an arm around his waist “Jesus, Albus, what´s wrong?” Albus groaned while rubbing his eyes with his other hand.
“I´m sorry, I´m just… I´m… I´m ok, it doesn´t hurt. I promise I´m sorry” he told the man as he put him down on his chair.
“Hey, hey, it´s ok, it´s just some bean water. Look at me” the boy pulled his red eyes to look at his friend “I´ll go get some ice to put on that, yeah? Sit here for a second” he waited until the boy nodded to walk out of the office. Albus stared at the disaster on the floor and felt horrible. He looked around and found some kleenex on the desk. He hoped he wouldn´t mind and started wiping the floor again.
“Mister Serra?” The trainee asked him outside the office. Albus looked up at him and then at the floor. “Mister Serra you´re green! Please lay down, I´ll call someone to clean that up” the boy trotted to help him sit on the chair again.
“i-it´s fine. I´m ok, Jeremy” he said feeling his head puffy. The boy left him there for a second and then leaned on the frame of the door.
“Lee, can you get me some chocolate from my backpack? Mister Serra isn´t feeling well!” he shouted as the boy shrank on his seat.
“Mister Serra? Does he need some water?” a feminine voice asked with a worried tone. Possibly the intern from last week he had to sign her papers for.
“Yeah! and get someone from cleaning!” Albus heard a reply and felt his cheeks burning as Jeremy knelt next to him.
“Thank you” he whispered to the blonde. He directed a genuine smile at the albino. “Mister Serra has helped me a lot since I got here. Please don´t thank me. It´s the least I can do for you, mister!” Albus felt himself sink into the chair further as Lee handed him Jeremy´s candy bar.
“You´re looking a little pale, mister” She said when he was about to take a bite. Jeremy was about to say something when he heard himself laugh. Lee smiled triumphantly.
“Still, mister, have you slept enough? I saw you doze off during the report meeting with the interns yesterday…” Jeremy continued, his cheeks burning red. Albus swallowed feeling guilty someone had seen him fighting to keep himself awake.
“Don´t fall off yet, soldier, we still got work to do” Sasha came inside the office with Tony behind her. He put the ice on his burnt hand and he didn´t even twitch. The four stared at him with worry. “Does it hurt?” Sasha asked him. Albus didn´t look up, only shrugged.
“Thanks Tony…Sorry for the mess” he apologized putting his hand away. He tried to stand up, but his legs refused to do so.
“Don´t mind it. But maybe you should stay here for a moment” He bit his lip.
“I still have work to do…” he tried to stand up, but Sasha pushed him back to the chair.
“Well, then it´s a good moment to just rely on us for help. You have that meeting with the trainees again don´t you?” he nodded slowly. “You two” she directed the trainees, who squared up instantly “Make a summary and send it to me before clocking out. I´ll make the paperwork and Tony will help with the mails” The boys both responded with “yes, ma´am” Albus jumped trying to stop her, but Sasha gave him a freezing look. “You rest here, workaholic. You trying to imitate Zarai with her unhealthy habits? Just eat your candy bar, boy”
“But we´ve got that meeting with…” she put Tony´s coat on his shoulders.
“You´re in no conditions to listen to old men talking about how far to the right a letter should be to increase sales a 10%” she rubbed his back before pulling away “Just sleep a bit yeah?” she silenced him.
He tugged the cozy coat over his shoulders close to him. Hiding his face with it. “Thank you…”
Sasha smiled and pulled everyone out of Tony´s office as the cleaning lady took care of the mess. Jeremy and Lee walked out the office wishing him to get better soon after leaving some more candy. He thanked them and saw them snickering to each other as they went out.
Albus pulled his knees close to his chest and the coat covered his back when he fell asleep against the desk.
Tony´s coat was warm.
He never mentioned it to Zarai, but when he was working at home that night, or well, the early morning of the next day, he received a photo from Tony.
It was him curled up into a ball in the chair with only his white hair sticking out of the brown coat.
“A wild tired cinnamon roll has appeared!” Tony wrote below it.
Sasha keysmashed and put lots of faces laughing.
Albus just shook his head and grinned before he continued working.
Didn´t stop until dawn when Zarai came in to tell him they were leaving in a few minutes.
He arrived to the office with the same exhausted face from yesterday but when he came out, Lee was there with a coffee on her hands.
“Jeremy sends you this sir” she said to the mute boy.
“I…uh…thank you, Lee” he said as he shifted the coffee cup and saw it had a number and a smiley face. He looked up at her with his cheeks fired up. “Uh…”
Lee simply walked away before he could say anything.
He showed it to Tony and Sasha at lunch and snickered to the other “Aren´t you popular, boy! I´ve also had girls ask me for your number!” Tony howlered
“What?” Sasha grinned as he blushed
“But you´re taken already aren´t you? With that freckled boy you always talking about”
“Sann?” Albus widened his eyes. “Oh, I…no, no. It´s not…” he remembered his smile at the party, the tuxedo and the rose on his chest, his dimples, his hair looking like fire in the sunset and immediately went silent. “I wish but It´s more complicated than that”
Both leaned on him. He let out a heavy sigh before staring at the city from their table on the roof top.
“I met him two years ago, but I don´t remember anything from that period. I know I learnt what I know back then…but it´s blank. I feel like something important happened…but everytime I try to remember it´s like…it just hurts and it´s uncomfortable” he said rounding one thumb with the other “I want to remember that meeting, but I can´t. I just recently remembered some… things” he continued to explain, the images of handlers touching him all over came to his head. The shocks. “And then there´s…” the problem that´s he´s someone else´s pet and I´m not supposed to get close to him. “Anyways, it´s messy” he smiled at his quiet friends “It´s dumb to say that I would be completely fine just by seeing him being happy even if I´m far?”
Both stared at him for an uncomfortably long time.
“Does Zarai know of your amnesia?” Sasha asked bluntly, playing with the bracelet in her left wrist. Albus had to shrug.
“Did you have an accident or…?”
Albus had to think hard about it. “…maybe I had someone hit my head repeatedly…” Sasha opened her mouth outraged “No, no it´s ok. I don´t know for sure. I just remember feeling numb after a hit” he hurried to explain. “Can we change the subject?” he asked closing his eyes, feeling ill suddenly.
“…ok” both laid back on their chairs as Albus sighed relieved “You should get that head checked up tho´. Two years is a long time, Albus” Tony told him.
Albus bit his tongue to not spit he didn´t remember most of his life anyways. Or his parent´s faces, or his own name.
He instead tried to put a smile. A mask that pleased everyone was easier to pull than try to uncover the truth.
“So, please help with Jeremy? I don´t wanna break the poor boy´s heart”
It took a while for them to talk normally to him again, but in the end, Jeremy was understanding when he explained he was not available. In fact, he had smiled and thanked him for being honest and Albus could pull an all nighter in peace because of that.
He cried on Lee´s shoulder later at the bus station, but that was something Albus didn´t need to know.
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Text
Scutum
Title: Scutum
Word Count: 9424
Summary: Sci-Fi AU. Roman sees the weapon first. The rest is just instinct. Found family. Platonic Logince, Platonic LAMP/CALM. Features Cartoon Therapy characters + Remy/Sleep.
Warnings: cursing (a lot woops); whump/angst/hurt/comfort; violence a la sci-fi/sci-fi weapons; science stuff that’s like 10% research and 90% made-up; sci-fi colonization stuff; passing mention of drunkenness; poison/being poisoned; feelings of guilt and misplaced blame and stuff like that; talk of death and dying; Elliot is briefly a little bit of a jerk but they’re anxious/traumatized and also kinda young so they’re doing their best; injury and blood; let me know if I forgot any.
A/N: Have some sci-fi escapist found family hurt/comfort. This took forever, wow. Several weeks and three drafts later and here we are. Glad it’s done! My huge, undying thanks to @creativenostalgiastuff for all of her help as my beta for this fic and answering my many, many questions and dealing with my general self-doubt. First time writing sci-fi. Would love to know what you think! <3
Captain Logan Sanders scrubs a hand underneath his glasses and leans his head back against the glass of the circular window. The metal of the spaceship—affectionately coined Foster by the ship’s medic, Patton Hart—creaks with a dull groan. The captain usually uses the window in the ship’s armory when he needs a moment alone, as its size allows Logan to comfortably lean up against the glass and look out into the “void of space”, as their pilot—Virgil Shea—tended to describe it.
Their relations officer and navigation coordinator, Roman Prince, usually hated looking too long at it. Logan had the feeling it made him feel lonely, or homesick. Maybe both.
Logan doesn’t mind it, though he also wouldn’t have necessarily called it a “void”. Billions of stars and the occasional swirl of color meant a certainty of life that existed out there. The universe is always teeming with it, and Logan finds a greater comfort from this distanced reminder than the crowded, bustling bazaars that Roman seemed to thrive in.
Logan hears the door swish open, his head swiveling over towards the sound. The light that floods into the room illuminates the dusty iron walls and the shelves of weapons—phasers and guns lined up beside one another, boxes of ammo on the shelf above—and Logan sees a familiar figure silhouetted against the light.
“Hey, Captain,” Kai Dwyer greets, unfazed by the sight of Logan sitting in the window.
“Kai,” he replies, pushing himself up to his feet off the window ledge. He grimaces slightly as he stretches his back, having forgotten how stiff the metal makes him when he sits too long.
Kai grabs a clipboard off the wall adjacent to the door. “Thought I’d do a quick inventory check before we dock.”
Logan frowns. “Are we close?”
“Virgil said we were still a few hours out. But I wanna be thorough. Make sure I know everything we need before get on planet.”
Logan inclines his head, rolling his shoulders to shake off the lingering stiffness before he crosses towards the door. “Acceptable. Carry on.”
Kai gives a small mock-salute. “Roger that, Cap’n.” The door slides shut behind Logan.
Foster is an old ship. Even to someone unfamiliar with the schematic, it’s evident in the grated flooring, the worn metal walls and beams that hold it together, the way the pressurizer hummed on occasion. Newer models tended to be sleeker, more streamlined, and generally brighter than the dark iron walls that adorned Foster’s interior.
Logan would never admit it—even to his own crew—but he trusted Foster more than he trusted other ships. Logically, he knew it was ridiculous. In the vast majority of cases, Logan believed that newer generally meant improved. But when it came to Foster, Logan had never even considered trading it in for a newer model. Instead, if something needed fixing on the ship, then Logan would consult Virgil and their engineer, Remy, to give Foster the needed updates. The ship was as much a part of the crew as any of the rest of them and it had gotten them through it’s fair share of close calls. As far as Logan was concerned, Foster had earned the loyalty of the crew.
But of course… that an inanimate object could earn loyalty didn’t make logical sense. So Logan kept that particular sentiment to himself.
Logan hears a familiar sound of the door swishing open down the short pathway and sees Roman duck out of his room. The relations officer is wearing his white and red armor suit, and Logan arcs an eyebrow when the officer meets his gaze.
“Hey, Specs.” Roman gives a small salute that echoes Kai’s a moment ago. Logan rolls his eyes.
“Greetings. Might I inquire as to why you’re wearing armor? My understanding is that we’re about to dock for a benign venture.” Logan pauses. “Unless you know something I don’t?”
“What? Oh.” Roman glances down at himself as if he’d forgotten what he was wearing. “Sorry to disappoint, Logan. Patton wanted to check the monitors in the suit, so I’m supposed to wear it around for a little bit. Make sure the readings are all right.” He bounces on the balls of his feet. “I’ve gotta say, Kai’s upgrades to the armor are pretty cool. Check this out.”
Roman stretches an arm out to his side, and Logan has barely registered that his palm has started to glow when something bright shoots out from it and Logan throws an arm up to protect his face.
A moment later, Logan lowers his arm to see a glowing hole through one wall of the ship. Through that hole, Logan sees the med bay and Patton staring out at them with wide, startled eyes. Picani is standing on the other side of the med bay, a ukulele in his hand, having just startled out of the chair he was sitting in. Logan clenches his jaw, turning a frustrated gaze at Roman before he hears the metallic clang of footsteps climbing up the ladder and the unmistakable voice of the ship’s primary engineer.
“Girl, you better not have busted a hole in my ship again!”
At the end of the hall, Remy García’s head pokes up with a glowering look as he pulls himself up onto the top layer of scaffolding. His dark goggles are pushed back into his hair, and he’s got streaks of grease smudged across his forehead and along his cheek.
“Your ship?” Logan asks, crossing his arms over his chest. His comment goes ignored as Remy stalks down the pathway and Roman starts stammering out either an apology or an excuse.
“You’re lucky you didn’t punch a hole straight through the outer shell or we’d all be dead.”
The intercom announces its presence with a familiar click and faint static before Virgil’s voice chimes through, echoing slightly off the metal walls. “Yeah, Remy and I might’ve fixed the damage from last week but we’d rather not test it while we’re floating through the great abyss of space.”
Roman’s holding his hands up in surrender. “It was an accident!” He glances through the hole in the wall. “Sorry, Patton. Sorry, doc!”
Patton waves. “It’s okay!” he calls from inside the med bay.
Picani chuckles and waves as well. “Nobody’s hurt!”
Remy sighs and looks to Logan. “That won’t be the cheapest fix, Cap, and we maxed on the budget for ship fixes last time we docked. That pirate gang did a number on Foster.”
Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. “Roman, it’s coming out of your pay.”
Roman opens his mouth as if to argue, then closes it before nodding. “No, yeah. That’s fair.”
Remy gives Roman one more glare before turning and heading back towards the ladder that descends to the lower deck. Logan is about to head to the bridge when he hears Roman say, “I mean… you gotta admit that was pretty cool.”
“I will admit no such thing,” Logan replies dryly as he heads in the opposite direction of Remy. “At some point, I’ll have peace and quiet on my ship again.”
“I wouldn’t be sure of that!” Roman calls after him brightly.
“We’re probably about 3 hours out from docking, Captain.”
Elliot—Virgil’s co-pilot—makes the announcement as the door to the ship’s bridge swishes open. The corner of Logan’s mouth quirks slightly, always impressed by Elliot’s ability to know who was coming through the door without looking. Anytime Logan asked them about it, they merely shrugged.
Foster’s bridge is relatively small. Green, red, and blue dots of lights cover both walls above a row of seats with harnesses for emergency cases. Each dot of light was information about how Foster was functioning, and Logan scans both walls quickly. Everything seemed to be operating efficiently.
“Understood,” Logan replies to Elliot.
A few feet past the emergency seats along the walls are the two pilot chairs, occupied by Virgil and Elliot. Virgil flips a small metal switch, then glances over his shoulder at Logan. Virgil had been the last person to join his team when Logan was first recruiting—Picani, Kai, and Elliot didn’t join until a few months ago. Logan had been uncertain when someone whose call sign was “Anxiety” responded to his flyer in search of a pilot. But word on the street had been that Virgil was the best of the best, and Logan was running low on potential candidates that measured up to his expectations.
Virgil had more than proved the rumors. Logan owed his life to him and his piloting skills more times than he cared to admit. The entire crew did.
“So why exactly are we docking in Vannaheim?” Virgil asks. “Not that I’m not, like, totally jazzed to be going to a planet that’s 99% desert.”
Logan crosses the short distance to stand between the two pilots chairs. “Vannaheim’s dune pattern is being impacted by gravity shifts that they can’t explain. We’re there to take some observations and perhaps help their scientists develop a solution.”
Elliot glances at Virgil, then snorts at the look on his face. “You’re just mad because you can’t wear your hoodie.”
Virgil points a finger at them. “I can, and I will.”
“You will do no such thing,” Logan interjects with a pointed look. “I will not have one of my best pilots suffer heat stroke.”
“It’s my aesthetic and I like to suffer.”
Logan shakes his head, looking out above the ship’s controls to the window that spanned in front of the pilot seats. It was a similar view to the one Logan had been enjoying a moment ago in the armory window, with the addition of Vannaheim in the distance—a small, red and orange planet that was approximately half the size of Earth. Hot and dry, but slightly higher oxygen levels than were present in Earth’s atmosphere.
Logan had been to Vannaheim six years ago when an old friend of his, Corbin Wright, had requested his help with developing vegetation alternatives given the arid biosphere of the planet. He’d been concerned at the potential ecological ramifications should they introduce flora and fauna that were not native to the planet. Instead, he and Corbin and a few other scientists spent a few weeks researching the native vegetation and fauna and determining what options were most compatible with human nutritional needs.
The effort had been met with some resistance from a minority of the colonists on the planet. They formed something of a resistance group—called themselves the ‘Retribution’, which Logan still thinks is a bit excessive—that started with some minor disagreement at community meetings, but quickly devolved into accusations that their ‘way of life’ was ‘under attack’. Which was ridiculous. Logan left as things continued to escalate, knowing that his presence on the planet was likely to only heighten the tensions. It was Logan’s original idea, after all.
When Corbin reached out about the gravitational shifts, he’d said tensions had remained after Logan left—even reaching moments when Corbin worried it would turn violent—but that things seemed to have mostly settled down in the recent weeks. Logan had asked if Corbin was sure that Logan returning wouldn’t have an adverse effect on the peace in the colony.
One way to find out, Corbin had replied dryly. Logan didn’t find it particularly comforting.
Two and a half hours later, Logan is passing by the med bay when the click through the ship’s intercom perks his ears.
“Heads up. We’re T-minus 27 minutes until we’ll be pulling into dock.” Elliot’s voice is distorted slightly by the static hum.
It clicks off in the same moment that the doors to the med bay swish open. Patton steps out, looking down at a chart that’s projected flatly from the gauntlet on his wrist. He glances up and smiles.
“Heya, Cap.”
Logan arcs an eyebrow. “Greetings. Everything satisfactory?” He inclines his head to the chart Patton had been looking at.
“What, this?” Patton glances back down. “Yeah. Just going over the charts from the new suit readouts. I was gonna have you try yours on before we docked, but Roman’s little… surprise earlier did some damage to the chest plate as I was downloading the software.” Patton laughs. “Kai said he can fix it, but not before we dock. I did manage to salvage your helmet, though. Ya have a minute?”
Logan follows Patton through the entryway into the med bay. Perhaps “med bay” was a bit of a gracious term for it. The room was relatively small, with two gatch beds fixed to one wall, and a variety of medical equipment and read-outs that Logan only vaguely understood how to use. The room was well-equipped for as small as it was, but Patton was also the only medical doctor on the ship.
On the left gatch bed, Logan sees black armor with blue accents—and the half-melted chestplate. It resembles, in style, to the white and red armor Roman had been wearing earlier.
“I updated the heartrate monitor display, plus the one for oxygen intake,” Patton is saying behind Logan as he minimizes the chart he’d been looking at and moves to a monitor on the far wall. “I also added a body temperature gauge and a toxin sensor since you can never be too careful, y’know?”
Logan nods, lifting the new helmet and inspecting it. The exterior of the helmet looks the same as before Logan had turned it over to be updated. A dark visor shields the face, the rest of it black with dark blue accents. It matches the damaged suit that sits in pieces on the gatch bed.
“Ya like it?” Patton asks. Logan looks over his shoulder at the doctor, who had stopped what he was doing on the monitor to look expectantly at the ship captain.
Logan glances back. “It appears to be the same helmet.”
Patton grins. “Looks that way. It’s cooler now, though. I also added in some ecological monitors. Simple stuff, at least for now. Atmosphere make up, surface temperature. Working on some other stuff, but that seems like enough for a prototype, don’tcha think?”
“I suppose it does make sense to limit variable additions when testing new technology.”
“Try the helmet on for me? Oh, and you should probably take your glasses off. Kai made sure the display will adjust for your vision.”
Logan obligingly slips the dark armor helmet over his head. He reaches up to his temple on the outside of the helmet and presses in. There’s a high-pitched blip and Logan’s vision goes from dark to a bright, staticky blue. Logan instinctively shuts his eyes against the blinding onslaught.
“Yikes!” Patton yelps, and Logan senses him suddenly standing beside him. A slight pressure on his left temple, a quiet blip, and Logan’s vision goes back to black. “I’m sorry, Logan. Not sure why that happened. I’ll have Kai take a look.”
Logan slips the helmet back off. “Not to worry, Patton. I’m confident in Kai’s engineering capabilities.”
Patton gingerly takes the helmet from Logan’s arms and sets it back on the gatch bed in front of them. “Yeah, but still. We were so close to all of you getting to try the new suits!”
Logan rakes his fingers through his hair to pull it back under control from its disheveled state. It was always a mess when he took his helmet off. He slips his glasses back onto his face. “Nevertheless. Roman and Elliot’s test runs on Vannaheim should still be adequate in assessing whether the new software you’ve developed will serve its functional purpose adequately.”
Patton gives Logan’s helmet a sad pat. “Yeah, you’re right. Well, thanks for giving it a shot, Cap! Good luck down there.”
“Your luck is unneeded, but appreciated. Thank you, Patton.”
The blast of arid heat stings Logan’s eyes slightly as Virgil lowers the ship’s docking track. Logan smiles politely at Corbin—slightly aged from the last time he saw him, but unmistakable regardless—and the two other individuals that stand with him. Roman and Elliot linger closely behind him as Logan descends the ramp and shakes Corbin’s hand.
“It’s good to see you, Logan,” Corbin greets with a faint smile. “Allow me to introduce you. This is my partner, Sloane. And this is Valerie.”
Logan shakes both of their hands, thinking idly that Sloane’s evident excitable energy rivaled that of Patton’s. Valerie has her dark hair pulled back into a high ponytail, which isn’t necessarily a surprise given the heat. The orange and yellow sands stretch into rolling dunes in the distance, unheeded by the small colony network they’d docked in. A bright blue sky stretches above them, and Logan sees Elliot slip on a pair of sunglasses out of the corner of his eye. Roman squints and brings up a hand to shield his own vision.
“Rainwall’s gotten bigger,” Logan remarks as Corbin leads them from the dock and further into the colony.
The last time Logan had been here, it had barely been a few temporary settlement structures—really just glorified tents, in Logan’s humble opinion--cohesive enough to call a colony network but only barely. The structures look more permanent now, and there are certainly more of them. Pathways between them are not paved but are certainly worn enough with foot and vehicle traffic, and Logan is pleased to see that they put his prior suggestion of solar panels to use. The roofs of nearly every building—most of them white and domed structures of varying sizes—are covered with them.
There’s a gust of wind, kicking up the sand and dust at their feet. Logan turns his face into his shoulder to keep from inhaling. Roman coughs behind him. “Oh great,” he says with an air of drama that makes Logan roll his eyes. “This planet is going to ruin my hair.”
“You get used to it,” Valerie says.
“I definitely do not want to get used to it.”
The corner of Logan’s mouth quirks. “We could return to Dal’tera, Roman.”
“I thought we agreed to never speak of Dal’tera again.”
“You and Virgil agreed to never speak of what happened on Dal’tera again. I made no such promise.”
Although Logan doesn’t turn around, he can feel the way Elliot’s gaze flickers between Roman’s face and the back of his head. “What happened on Dal’tera?”
“It was four years ago—”
“Which is why we are leaving it in the past!” Roman cuts in insistently. “Unbelievable. The lack of trust. First, Kai disables the cool blaster-thingy on my suit, now my own captain is betraying my trust.”
The accusation is empty and with a certain familiar affection underlying the dramatics, but Logan holds his hands up in mock surrender regardless. “To Kai’s credit, you did damage the ship less than half an hour after having the technology made available to you,” he says, and Roman makes an affronted noise behind him.
“It was an accidental—”
Elliot interrupts him, sounding amused. “Did you just call it a blaster-thingy? Really?”
Logan glances over his shoulder in time to see Roman look down at his armored hand. “I don’t know the name for it.”
“It should be named something cool.”
“Yes, I agree. Perhaps we should come up with some options to run by Kai when we return.”
As they pass one of the vegetation fields, a pair of colonists wave at them from a distance. Logan sees Sloane wave enthusiastically in return out of the corner of his eye. Corbin lifts a hand in a more subdued greeting. A pair of children cut out between the buildings in front of them and barely dodge Logan and Corbin at the front of the group, shrieking with laughter.  Behind him, Elliot and Roman chat about potential names for the new technology that Kai had inputted into the suit.
It’s a familiar thrum of background noise as they make their way through the settlement. The excitable chatter and increasingly ridiculous suggestions for naming technology makes Logan vaguely grateful that Kai tended to name his own tech rather than leave it to those two. Regardless, Logan is content to let them chatter away. Especially if it kept their attention occupied as they navigate through Rainwall.
As much as the colony had grown since Logan had last seen it, it doesn’t take them too long to reach the far end of the small town. They’re led to one of the white domed structures at the far end of the network of buildings and worn pathways. Corbin inputs a four-digit code into the keypad beside the door, and Logan hears a lock click before the door swishes open.
Logan feels the beanbag hit the back of his head for the fourth time and doesn’t even bother to turn around.
“Sorry, Captain!” Roman says, also for the fourth time.
Logan, Corbin, and Valerie had been pouring over data spreadsheets, charts, graphs, and notes regarding the anomaly in Vannaheim’s dune pattern for the past three hours. Roman and Elliot both had tried to assist for the first hour and a half, but while they were extremely bright and intelligent people in Logan’s opinion, neither were particularly practiced or well-versed in theoretical physics or planetology. Elliot’s understanding of piloting had been helpful briefly in identifying some smaller anomalies in the gravitational shifts in the planet’s atmosphere, but that was about the extent that their expertise could help.
The pod—as Sloane had been calling the one-room building they were in—was small and simple on the inside, but certainly functional. The couch and table towards the front of the pod had been pushed against the wall to make room for the game that Roman and Sloane had started with a beanbag that Sloane happened to have handy. Towards the back were several computers, and a few chairs. Corbin sits in one, scanning over the contents of the most recent read-out, and Valerie sits in the other. Logan stands and paces in the space between them and the game of beanbag. There were a few unpacked crates blocking part of the pathway, having previously housed brand-new computer parts.
Roman sheepishly jogs the short distance between himself and the beanbag at Logan’s feet, snatching it up. Logan opens his mouth to say something when Elliot cuts him off, sitting up a bit from where they’d been lounged against the couch.
“Did you guys hear that?”
Logan frowns, but it’s Valerie who speaks up, looking up from the tablet in her hands. “Hear what?”
But then they do hear it. It’s distant, but rapidly getting closer. Shouting. Someone screams. And—
“Was that phaser discharge?” Sloane asks, his face draining of color. Elliot scrambles to their feet, crossing towards Logan and further away from the door.
“Corbin, take Sloane and get out of here,” Logan says immediately. “Valerie, you too. Get somewhere safe.”
The shout is right outside the door. Corbin grabs for Sloane and yanks him back behind him as the door swishes open, fumbling to pull the phaser out of the holster at his belt.
Logan barely has time to register that the strangled cry from Roman is his name before he feels a weight slam into him, sending him crashing to the floor just as phasers go off. Logan doesn’t know who fired first, his ears ringing slightly and Roman, a heavy weight, on top of him.
“I knew he’d come back!” a new voice—grating and sharp and a little hysterical—shrieks. “I knew fucking Logan Sanders couldn’t keep his distance! You’ve ruined our way of life one too many times you fucking piece of—” Corbin fires his phaser, a streak of green light slamming into the figure’s chest. Even through the chaos, Logan can see the switch set to stun.
“Roman,” Logan grunts as he shoves his relations officer off of him, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Roman rolls off him with a tight grimace, an arm wrapped around himself. He doesn’t answer and he doesn’t sit up, and it’s only then that Logan sees the skin of Roman’s waist—a sickly green and black—exposed between his fingers and broken armor.
Logan’s mind kicks into overdrive, the shouting between Corbin, Valerie, Elliot and the intruders overlapping with exchanges of phaser fire fading into background noise.
Logan goes to reach for his comm at his belt before he realizes that it’s been shattered into pieces. Parts of it are melted, apparently having taken some phaser damage. Unusable. Logan changes tactics immediately, pulling the identical equipment piece off Roman’s shoulder and clicks in.
“Foster Crew,” Logan says, clipped and urgent. “Come in. We have a Code Black. Repeat: Code Black. We need immediate assistance.”
“Fucking shit,” is Virgil’s instant response, muffled from static. “What’s your location?”
Logan looks to Elliot on his left, who is staring at Roman with wide eyes having heard the call go through the comms. “Elliot,” Logan says. “Send our location.”
They blink quickly and nod, pressing a button on the gauntlet on their armor before firing another round of their phaser. It cracks against the wall. Elliot ducks back behind the create as the corner of it splinters into shards with a ricocheting crack.
Logan reaches for the wound on Roman’s waist, but Roman won’t move his hands. He’s pale, already with a thin sheen of sweat, and when his eyes flutter open, Logan doesn’t miss the glassy look in them, nor the way that they don’t seem to focus.
“Roman. Hey.” Logan taps his face, then pulls Roman’s hands away. “Look here.”
“Cap?” Roman’s voice is distant. Hazy. Confused.
When Logan yanks Roman’s hands away so that he can better assess damage, Roman makes a noise in the back of his throat that doesn’t sound fully human.
Logan doesn’t respond. The wound isn’t just phaser damage, from the little Logan can see. Phasers didn’t generally turn skin into that green-black mottled mess. There appears to be several tiny puncture wounds. Toxin, Logan thinks, and reaches for Roman’s comm again. He helps Roman sit up and lean against the crate behind him.
“Patton. Come in, Patton.”
Corbin is shouting something from where he’s taken cover against the wall on the opposite side to Logan’s left. He fires twice more.
“Roman’s vitals are all over the place,” Patton answers without having to ask what Logan needed to know. “Toxin levels are elevated and climbing. What’s happening down there?”
“Virgil, what’s your ETA?” Logan says instead of answering. He’s on autopilot, his mind racing. He can barely keep up with his own thoughts. Flashes of green phaser fire streak overhead and leave scorch marks on the white walls of the pod.
“Two minutes but it looks like you guys are pinned down. We’ll do what we can. Might be two and a half before you guys can get out.”
“Is anyone else hurt?” Logan asks to the open air.
“Not yet,” Corbin replies, ducking as another round of phaser fire hits overhead. “They’re Retribution though. No mistaking that.” He aims again, fires a few more rounds. Logan hears something heavy slump to the ground. Roman grunts and leans his head back against the crate he’s propped up against. His breathing is fast and shallow.
Despite himself, Roman gives Logan a pained smile. “I got pretty good reflexes, huh?”
“This situation hardly classifies as a testament to your reflex speed.”
“Virgil always said….” Roman grimaces. Shudders. Tries again. “Virge always said he was fastest but I could give ‘im a…. a run for his money.”
Logan frowns. “Your speech is slurring.”
“Sorry.”
Roman starts saying something about the last time he was drunk—Logan was there; they’d been celebrating Virgil’s birthday—but Logan has mostly tuned him out. His mind is still spinning. Toxin-equipped phasers were new technology to Logan. He’d heard there was potential for it, but he hadn’t looked much into the tech or its development. For it to be possible, then they’d need access to existing natural toxins. Synthetic ones wouldn’t pair as well with the phaser tech and would risk overloading or overheating the weapons. What natural toxins existed on Vannaheim?
More than one, from Logan’s memory. It had been a subsection of his research when looking into native vegetation options from the planet six years ago.
“Logan? Come in. Logan?” Patton’s voice over the comms not only interrupts Logan’s sprinting thoughts, but also causes Roman to cut off his slurred, barely coherent speech.
Logan grabs the device. “Here.”
“Roman’s getting worse. I think he’s panicking, ‘cuz his heartrate is through the roof, but that could also be the toxin. Do you know what it was?”
“I don’t. If I were to guess, based on the damage and situational factors, I’d probably assume it was a hemotoxin or necrotoxin but without more information or the ability to run tests, I cannot be certain.”
Virgil’s voice cuts into the conversation. “T-minus one minute.” Even distorted from the static, Virgil’s voice sounds strained in its own right. “Fuck, I’m going as fast as I can, Logan. Tell Princey he’s not allowed to die before I have the chance to kill him myself for being an idiot.”
Roman scoffs, but it’s weak and pained and sounds a lot more like a cough. “An idiot?” he demands incredulously.
“Message received,” Logan says dryly before setting the comm down. “Roman, take a deep breath.”
Roman sucks in a breath—shaking and thin—and winces. “Ow. Shit.” Roman’s arm wraps around his torso and he tosses a shaky smile to Logan. “I can’t believe I’m really gonna die having never beaten you at chess.”
It’s Elliot that answers him first, their voice tight and strangled and desperate. “You’re not going to die.”
“You’re not going to beat me at chess,” Logan adds. He can still hear shouting outside the pod. Roman gives a breathy laugh before his eyes unfocus again, blinking owlishly. Logan sets a firm, grounding hand on his shoulder. “Focus. Roman, tell me five things you can see.”
“Tell me five things you can see.” Roman blinks hard, then looks around uncomprehendingly. “Where… am I?”
“Vannaheim,” Logan replies smoothly despite the way his chest clenches. He cannot panic. Logan takes a breath.
Roman makes a face. “I hate Vannaheim.”
“Because the wind messes up your hair. Yes, you’ve told me.”
The door swishes open and Logan grabs Roman’s phaser from its holster and fires a shot. It cracks against the wall of the pod slightly to the left of the intruder. Logan had left his phaser on the ship. An oversight on his part. Deal with it later, Logan tells himself firmly.
“A prince has got to slay,” Roman says, his words slurred. He takes a breath that seems to tangle in his lungs, and wheezes out a cough.
“You’re wearing a uniformed suit of armor,” Logan finds himself saying. Wasn’t enough to protect him, something hisses in Logan’s mind. Logan shakes his head quickly. He’d deal with that thought later. “If you’re that worried about your appearance, wear the helmet.”
Logan estimates that it’s been about twenty seconds since his last communication with Virgil and Patton. They hear the door swish open. Valerie fires. There’s a startled cry and the door closes.
“I like the—” Roman cuts himself off with a clench to his teeth, his body visibly shuddering. He curls around himself, his head nearly pitching straight into Logan’s chest. The captain catches Roman’s shoulders, holding him steady until the trembling is back to a more manageable level a second later. He guides Roman to sit back again.
Roman’s head leans back to thump gently against the crate, his brow pinched. “Logan… you’re shaking.”
“Falsehood,” Logan replies distractedly, trying to tune in to the conversation Corbin and Valerie are having on the opposite side of the small pod given the lull in combatants. They can still hear the fight raging outside. Someone screams. Pounding footsteps.
Sloane is typing frantically into one of the computers. A second later, there’s a click by the door. “Doors are locked. Should at least slow them down,” he says.
Corbin glances back at Logan, his chest heaving in an attempt to catch his breath. His jaw sets when his eyes flicker to Roman slumped against the crate.
“You’ve gotta get out of here,” he says. “Valerie and I will cover you. As soon as Anxiety gets here, make a break for it. They’re not here for a war. They’re here for you.”
Logan opens his mouth to reply but Roman’s strained, slurred speech interrupts him. “Logan… give m’ th’ phaser.”
“Why?”
Roman’s brow furrows together like he thinks the answer should be obvious. “Figured I’d take a few of ‘em down with me while… while you two…” He grimaces again, but Logan gets the picture.
“No.”
Roman levels a look that would be a glare if his eyes would stay focused on Logan. “Be logical, Captain.”
Logan doesn’t deign the challenge with a response. He just stares at Roman—the sheen of sweat, the shallow and rapid breath, the way Roman can’t seem to support the weight of his own head—and then looks back at Corbin. “If we flee and they’re here for me, it’s not impossible that they’ll give chase.”
“We’ll ground as many as we can,” Valerie says, quickly adjusting some calibration on the phaser in her hand.
“Captain,” Roman insists, but Logan ignores him.
“Virgil will just have to shake the rest,” Logan says grimly.
“T-minus five seconds. Incoming.” Virgil’s cracked, staticky voice breaks through the comms on Elliot’s and Roman’s shoulder.
“Speak of the devil.”
“Let’s move,” Logan says, crossing back to Roman.
He figures that offering a hand to help Roman stand up wouldn’t be enough support, given that Roman seemed barely capable of holding up his own head. A fireman’s carry? Seemed excessive, at least for the time being. Perhaps Logan would default to that should Roman lose consciousness.
“’m gonna slow y’ down.” Roman’s voice is quiet, and it takes Logan a moment to decipher what he said given the way the words run together.
Logan crouches down and takes Roman’s arm, wrapping it around his shoulders and bracing one hand against Roman’s armored chestplate. “Think you can stand up?”
“Not lis’ning.”
“Answer the question, Roman.”
Roman swallows. Shudders. His arm tightens around his waist. “Yeah.”
“Three. Two. One. Up.” Logan stands, bracing most of Roman’s weight into his side. Roman nearly pitches into the floor, but he manages to get his legs underneath him and though Logan can feel him shaking with the exertion of effort, Roman is standing.
Progress.
“I’ll wait to unlock the door until you guys are right in front of it,” Sloane says and if there’s a bit of strain to his voice—if he casts a long glance at Corbin—well, Logan doesn’t say anything about it.
“Logan,” Roman says. “Lemme… lemme st…” Roman spasms, and nearly pitches right out of Logan’s grip. His hand on Roman’s chest is the only thing that keeps Roman from tumbling to the floor.
Logan goes to take a step with him—he can see black bleeding up through Roman’s neck like spilled ink and it tightens something in his chest—but Roman doesn’t move. Logan gives Roman a sharp look, opens his mouth to explain that they didn’t have time to waste, but there’s something fiery and bold beneath the haze of pain and poison that clouds his gaze.
“’m not worth—”
“It’s not your decision!” Logan cuts him off sharply. Furious. His gut twists against what he knows was the rest of Roman’s sentence. Roman releases a breath that would sound annoyed if there wasn’t a bit of a hitch to it.
“Doors opening in three. Two. One.”
Corbin and Valerie duck out first, and it’s a mess of dust and wind as Foster’s engine roars overhead, touching down as close as it reasonably can. Logan hears the reverberating pops of phaser fire exchanged somewhere in the cloud of dust. Streaks of green light criss-crossing in the sand-clogged cloud around them. Corbin yells for them to go. Elliot fires off a few shots of their own, sticking close to the two of them to fill in the gaps of phaser coverage left between Corbin and Valerie.
They run.
Or, as best as they can manage. It’s barely a loose jog, really, with Logan having to support most of Roman’s weight. But Roman manages to put one foot in front of the other and from his strangled breathing and how hard he’s shaking, Logan knows it’s about all Roman can manage to do.
Logan estimates that the distance between the pod and Foster is about a hundred or so meters. At the rate they’re moving, it should take them about twenty seconds to reach the docking ramp that Virgil lowers as soon as they touch down. Maybe less than that, if they can push the pace a bit more.
It takes ten seconds before Logan feels bright heat rip through his upper right bicep. Warm liquid spills down his arm.
“Captain!” Elliot yells, alarmed, over the chaos.
“I’m fine,” Logan grits out. “Go! Go!”
Patton meets them on the docking ramp, his eyes wide, and takes Roman’s other side to help Logan get him the rest of the way up. Elliot fires their phaser twice more as the ramp closes before ripping their comm unit off and calling into it.
“Virgil, punch it. We’re gonna have tails.”
“Fuck. Everyone accounted for?”
Logan grabs Roman’s comm. “Affirmative. Get us out of here.” Logan braces himself, and Roman, for the shift as Virgil lifts them off and takes off.
Roman sways.
Patton reaches for his wound. “Ro—”
The navigations officer collapses. Logan grunts as he and Patton both catch him before he crumples entirely, the effort tearing at the wound in Logan’s arm. Bright, hot pain ripples down his arm and up through his shoulder. Logan clenches his teeth against the sharp cry that tries to tear up his throat.
“Roman!” Elliot steps forward, but Logan holds up a hand, trying to get his breathing back under control from the fresh wave of pain.
“No, Elliot. Pilot with Virgil.”
“But I want to help!”
His arm is throbbing and Logan glances down at it, noting with a certain level of detachment that it just looks like a normal graze. No sign of toxin damage. “Help Virgil,” Logan tells them firmly, leveling a steady gaze that leaves no room for argument.
Elliot’s expression darkens before they turn and head towards the cockpit.
“I gotta get Roman to med bay,” Patton says quietly. “And get you patched up too.”
“I’m fine,” Logan says, helping Patton hoist Roman up from his half-collapsed state on the floor. “Just a graze.”
“But still.”
“It’ll heal, Patton.”
“Logan.”
Logan’s jaw snaps shut. He gives a single, stiff nod in return.
The next several minutes are frantic.
Patton and Logan carry Roman to the medical bay and Patton immediately pries Roman’s suit off him to get a closer look. It’s a flurry of movement as he hooks Roman up to various machines to read off information about his vitals, extracting some of the toxin from his system so Patton can run different tests on it separate from Roman’s body, all of which is made more challenging by the frequent shift in g-force as Virgil and Elliot try to lose the ships that had followed them off Vannaheim.
Logan is still on autopilot. He doesn’t stop moving. Logan helps Patton as much as he can, and it’s not until Patton is very gently helping Logan into chair to bandage his wounded arm after Roman has been fully equipped that Logan realizes the warm liquid that he’d felt down his arm was his own blood. Logan stares at Roman on the gatch bed with numb detachment and lets Patton clean and wrap the wound in his arm. It’s while Patton is tying the knot on the bandage wrapped around Logan’s bicep that Virgil clicks on over the intercom.
“I think we’ve shaken the last of them. Status update on Princey?”
Logan and Patton exchange a glance. Patton offers a sad smile and slight lift to his shoulders. Logan stands from the chair and walks to the intercom on the wall. He presses the button, waiting for the click before he speaks.
“No change. Did we take any damage?”
It’s Remy’s voice that answers him. “She’ll hold together, but Foster’s warp drive is out of commission until we can dock and I get some parts. What the hell was that all about?”
Logan swallows and leans his head against the wall for a moment. A damaged warp drive meant that getting to the next planet would take a bit longer than originally planned. He glances over at Patton, whose lips press into a grim line. Logan swallows before he answers over the intercom. “It appears that some prior work I did on that planet in an effort of sustainability warranted a minority of individuals harboring some… hostility.”
Behind him, Patton is peering at the monitors with Roman’s vitals. “Seems like more than just some hostility.”
“And we’re sure Wright is gonna be fine down there?” Virgil asks.
“Reasonably,” Logan replies. “Their hostility was directed predominantly at me.”
“And yet Roman—oh, wait. Hey, Cap, you might wanna come up here. We’ve got a message inbound from Vannaheim.”
Logan sighs. “I’ll be right there.”
Logan isn’t sure what to expect. He can’t fairly say that he is surprised. It made sense that they would attempt contact, especially given that they had successfully evaded their trail. And expecting the message to wait certainly wouldn’t have made sense—they’d be out of signal range within a few minutes. Logan considers, briefly, letting the message go unanswered. But there couldn’t be any harm in talking, right? Perhaps Logan could even appease them enough to quell some of the hostile action that could—had, did—put innocent people in harm’s way.
His arm throbs. Logan looks over his shoulder at Roman, prone on the gatch bed. Pale, except for the side that got hit being a smattering of mottled green and black. The black bleeds in curling tendrils across his chest, up his shoulder, his neck.
Patton catches him staring and gives him another one of those sad smiles. “I’m doing what I can for him, Captain.”
Logan swallows and nods. He squeezes Patton’s shoulder on his way out.
He tries very hard to not look at the hole through the wall that Roman had blasted earlier today. Instead, he focuses on the weight of his measured, calculated footsteps against the grated scaffolding. The very faint and yet oddly familiar, comforting scent of iron that lingered on the inside of the ship despite Patton’s best attempts to fix it. He counts in his head how many steps it takes from the door of the med bay to the cockpit.
The answer is eighteen.
The door swishes open and Virgil cranes his neck around. Elliot doesn’t even show signs of having heard the door opened at all.
“Ready, Captain?” Virgil asks, his finger poised over one of the buttons in front of him.
Logan steadies a hand on the back of Virgil’s chair and nods. “Yes.”
The screen in front of them blips on and Logan stares in surprise as Corbin, Sloane, and Valerie’s faces fill the frame. “Hey, they made it!” Sloane says brightly. Logan can still feel tension pulling his shoulders taught.
“Barely,” Elliot says, so quietly Logan almost doesn’t hear it. Logan sees Virgil glance at them, his brow furrowing.
“How’s Roman doing?” Valerie asks.
“We’re working on it,” Logan says.
“You mean Patton’s working on it,” Elliot cuts in.
“Yes,” Logan acquiesces. “I do mean that. Our ship��s medic, Patton Hart, is doing what he can. How are things there?”
“Our earlier assumptions proved accurate,” Corbin replies with a shrug. “They followed you. The ones that didn’t were angry, but hostility tapered off once they realized they were outnumbered and that you were gone.”
“I apologize for bringing you under some fire. That wasn’t my intention.”
“It’s not like you could’ve known,” Sloane says with a dismissal wave.
“We’re about to lose signal,” Virgil says quietly.
“Hey, keep us updated about Roman, will you?” Corbin asks.
Sloane and Valerie both nod. “We’re just as worried about him as you are!”
Elliot mutters something under their breath that Logan doesn’t quite catch, but from the suddenly furious look Virgil shoots them, perhaps it was better that he didn’t. Logan assures them that they will let them know as soon as there’s any change to report. Virgil cuts the feed and flexes his grip around the ship’s controls.
“What the hell was that?” Virgil demands suddenly. For a moment, Logan frowns in confusion before he realizes that the question was meant for Elliot and not himself.
“Forget it,” Elliot replies with a quick glance to Logan.
“Bullshit,” Virgil shoots back. His grip on the controls look too tight to be comfortable. “You’re not good with confrontation. Fine. But you don’t get to sit there and make passive-aggressive jabs at our captain after the shit-show we just dealt with. One that he got you out of, I might add. What’s wrong with you?”
“Okay—” Logan says, placatingly, but Elliot interrupts him.
“What’s wrong with me?” they demand, waving a hand towards Logan. “What’s wrong with him? He doesn’t seem phased in the slightest! Roman was shot trying to protect him and he just acted like he didn’t care—”
“Because that’s his fucking job!” Virgil turns a glowering look onto Elliot.
“Virgil,” Logan tries, bewildered at the argument, but they both seem to have forgotten that Logan is even there.
Virgil continues, tearing his gaze back to the stars stretching in front of them. “He’s the Captain, Elliot. It’s his job to make sure shit gets done, and that is especially true when one of us gets hurt. Logan doesn’t fall apart during a crisis but don’t you dare suggest that means he doesn’t fucking care.”
Elliot is silent. Logan doesn’t know what—if anything—he should say. Virgil heaves a sigh and rakes a hand through his long bangs. “I mean, shit. Look, I know today has been a lot. The past two hours have been a lot. And you haven’t been with us very long. But if you don’t know anything about our Captain, know this: Logan speaks how he cares in his actions. All you have to do is pay attention.”
Logan blinks. He forgot sometimes how closely Virgil watched other people, including himself. He’d noticed it in the beginning when Virgil had first joined, but Virgil had mostly dismissed it and said it was an “anxiety thing”. Logan didn’t know that he believed that, but over time, Virgil’s steady, watchful gaze had become less unsettling and more comforting. Until Logan forgot entirely just how much Virgil paid attention to the people around him.
Elliot sighs. They don’t look up, but Logan hears their words regardless. “I’m sorry, Captain. I was… unfair.”
“It’s understandable,” Logan replies, surprised at being suddenly addressed. His mind is still reeling. Too full of information that is racing through his mind to fully process the argument that just ensued.  “Take a breath, Elliot. Get some rest.”
“I…” Elliot looks like they want to argue, but they seem to change their mind. They stand up and look to Virgil. “Are… you good?”
Virgil glances at them, and something softens in his expression. “Yeah, kid. I’m good here.”
Elliot nods absently, then disappears through the cockpit doors. Virgil glances over his shoulder at Logan. “You should get some rest too, Captain.”
“I’m fine.”
Virgil sighs. He doesn’t press him.
Days go by. Patton manages to get Roman to stable vitals and Logan thinks he can hear the collective sigh of relief across the ship when the announcement comes over the staticky intercom. But Roman doesn’t wake up, and Patton tells them that he isn’t sure when—or if—it’ll happen. Logan spends most of these days in the med bay, doing what he can with his scientific knowledge to assist Patton’s tests on the toxin. Kai joins them for short periods of time, putting his knowledge of weapons and tech to some use in the long hours.
They manage to come up with an antidote somewhere around what would be a little past two in the morning Earth-time of the second day. It cleanses Roman’s system of the poison, but damage had been done. It was difficult to ascertain exactly how much.
Logan doesn’t sleep much. He thinks Patton notices, but whenever the doctor tries to bring it up, Logan shrugs him off. His usually rigid circadian schedule had been disrupted by bad dreams that echo with Sloane’s pale face and Elliot’s shaking hands and Roman’s strained words. The last words he’d gotten out. I’m not worth—and every time, Logan wakes up before Roman can finish the thought. So Logan gets enough sleep to function, and he spends the rest of his time in the med bay and around the ship making himself useful.
All the crew find time to stop in on occasion as the days press forward. Virgil and Elliot take shifts. Picani makes sure that Patton and Logan are eating, and sometimes sits and talks to Roman’s unconscious form. Patton does that too—talk to him. Whenever he gives Logan an update with a new chart read out, he speaks as if Roman can hear him.
When Logan eventually asks him about it—if he thinks Roman can hear them—Patton lifts a shoulder and replies, “I don’t know. I hope so. And it helps me to talk to him anyway, y’know?”
Logan tries it when Patton goes to bed that night. He sits in the chair that Remy had grabbed and set beside Roman earlier that day and listens to the way the silence of the ship at this hour seems to echo against the old metal walls and bracing. Foster had been quieter in general in the past several days. Less laughter. Less teasing. Less… vibrant.
“That’s your fault, you know,” Logan says quietly, looking at Roman. “As much as I always complain about your insufferable noise level, I’ll admit I had grown… accustomed to it.”
Roman’s face is still startlingly pale, but it had lost the sickly sheen of sweat. He breathes evenly. Regularly. Logan listens to it for a moment, grateful that it at least wasn’t the shaking, shallow wheezes it had been on Vannaheim. The black-and-green stain on Roman’s skin had mostly faded. He’d have a scar, Patton said, on his waist where the initial hit happened. But the rest of it should go back to normal in a day or two.
“Now the quiet just seems…” Logan sighs. He listens again as the ship groans. “It seems heavy. Though you’d probably mock me for the use of the chremamorphism. Ordinarily, I’d qualify it with literal or figurative, as I know that silence cannot carry a physical weight, but…” Logan breaks off. It feels like a literal weight, hanging over the ship like a fog and darkening the iron walls. Weighing on the shoulders of those who move within the space.
Logan sighs. Scrubs a hand across his eyes under his glasses with exhaustion. “There’s something that has been bothering me, Roman. Something that I need to say to you.”
Logan leans forward. Bows his head. “You tried to tell me that you weren’t worth the risk of getting you to safety. Which is, honestly, bullshit. I don’t leave my people behind, Roman. You, of all people, should know that. And you… you shouldn’t have taken that shot. That was meant for me.”
Logan wonders, now that he’s said it aloud, if the weight on his shoulders from the silence is really the weight of his own guilt. Poised over his head like a pendulum on the verge of snapping.
Bearing Roman’s weight on Vannaheim had not felt this heavy. Logan realizes suddenly that his hands are shaking. He clasps them together in front of him between his knees.
“I’m the Captain,” Logan says. “It’s my job to keep you all safe, and I let you down. That’s on me. And… I am sorry, Roman. I am sorry for my shortcomings as a leader and as a friend. Because if you felt unworthy of being saved, I’m afraid I have failed in both responsibilities.”
A voice from the door to the med bay startles Logan. “It isn’t your fault, L.”
Logan looks over his shoulder towards the sound and finds Virgil leaning against the entry way. Logan blinks in surprise. He hadn’t even heard the doors open. Virgil just watches him with a quiet, unwavering gaze, even if there’s something a little softer in his eyes than Logan is used to seeing.
“Virgil,” Logan greets, pushing his glasses further up his nose and standing. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
Virgil shrugs a shoulder, glancing to Roman. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d check in on Princey.” He pauses, his gaze flickering back to Logan. “And you, too.”
“I’m fine.”
“He doesn’t blame you for what happened,” Virgil says, stepping further into the medical bay and letting the doors swish shut behind him. He’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his purple plaid-patched hoodie.
Logan shakes his head. “But I do. I should have been more vigilant.”
“Weren’t you the one who taught me that dealing with ‘I should have’ is a dangerous and unproductive thought pattern?”
Logan hesitates. He can’t argue with that. He remembers the conversation from years ago. “Roman shouldn’t have been put into that situation.”
“He did it to protect you.”
“I didn’t ask him to do that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“But—”
“Logan,” Virgil cuts in, tossing his hands up in exasperation, “All of us? On this ship? We’re a family. You didn’t ask for that, but it happened. You are not the only one who cares about other people on this ship.”
“I know that.”
“Then know that any one of us would do what Roman would do if meant protecting you. We look out for each other.” Behind him, the door swishes open again but Virgil doesn’t even turn around. “We protect one another. All of us. You protect us, we protect you. That’s how this shit works.”
Patton steps into the med bay in a cat onesie. His pajamas. He pads quietly into the room, tugging the hood off his head. “Virgil’s right, Cap. We’re a family here. Like it or lump it.”
“And while this may be your ship,” Virgil says as Patton crosses to the monitors on the wall. “We don’t plan to go anywhere any time soon. You’re stuck with us.”
Despite himself, Logan cracks a faint smile.
“Yeah,” croaks a voice from the gatch bed that makes Logan whirl around. “Couldn’t get rid of us if ya tried, Cap.”
Roman’s eyes are open and glinting with something that Logan can’t quite decipher in the dark. Amusement, but something softer too. Patton gasps and rushes over, helping Roman sit up a bit more and grabbing the glass of water with a straw that he’d been refreshing each day for this very event. Roman takes a grateful sip and leans his head against Patton in silent gratitude. Patton smooths his hair with a gentle pat before helping Roman lean back in the bed again.
“How do you feel?” Virgil asks.
“Like I was shot.”
Virgil snorts.
Patton asks him a series of questions that are a bit more pointed—“Any dizziness, Roman? Do you know who I am? Do you know where you are? Are you feeling nauseous?”—and adjusts some of the machines to accommodate for an awake patient. Roman is a bit slow with his answers, and a bit slower still for the orienting ones, but he answers them accurately and cracks a few jokes in the meantime, and Logan just watches, feeling some of the tightness in his chest ease a bit.
When Patton makes a joke and the ship hears Roman’s laughter for the first time in almost a week, Logan thinks maybe he’ll finally be able to sleep through the night.
 ...
Tags: @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @quoth-the-sparrow, @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @sassy-in-glasses, @vigilantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @thepoolofthedead, @monikastec, @heir-of-the-founders, @yourworstnightmare999, @artistictaurean, @kanejandkruge, @cdragontogacotar, @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl, @angst-patton, @savingshae, @noneed4thistbh, @awesomelissawho, @unikornavenger, @bopthesnoz, @spiralofsilencetheory, @finger-gunsss, @crownswriter123, @swlotakulady34, @gaylotusthatexists, @analogical-mess, @dolphidragon, @flix-net, @narniasfinestavengingsociopath, @friedlieb-ferdinand-runge, @bibbidy-bobbity-booyah, @procrastinations-my-middle-name, @theburntesttoast, @monroig, @secretlyawyvern, @puddinglec4t
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merciresolution · 3 years
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IT’S WHALE TIME
HERE WE GO, BOIS, IT’S TIME TO TALK ABOUT WHY TOAD AND THE WHALE WOULDN’T WORK IRL LMFAO LET’S GOOOOO
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So I know this episode came out years ago, but it’s been on my mind lately. I’ve always wanted to talk about why it’s super unrealistic
But this show itself is unrealistic lmao and I didn’t wanna seem hyper critical of it or anything. This is just for funsies and a chance for me to talk about WHALES
SO LET’S BEGIN!!!!!
So the episode starts. A minute in, Toad sees a beached whale, but no one believes him at first. Let’s ignore that part and talk about the whale itself!!!
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It ain’t a Blue Whale, that’s for sure. Thing’s too small! And the markings don’t really match up. Imo it kinda doesn’t look like any whale species I’m familiar with, but for the sake of giving it a species, let’s call it a Minke Whale. Minkes do live in the Irish Sea (where the Island of Sodor is located), plus this thing kinda has faint flipper mittens! Very faint.
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Photo Link
So let’s call it a Minke. A Minke Whale washed ashore. It’s not having a good day, clearly. People gather around it, the Search and Rescue Center is alerted, y’know, standard stuff.
Also Duck yelled at Toad, how dare you, sir?????? Let the bab sing.
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They givin’ that baby lots of attention. BUT ALSO Why are you bringing trains of water? Why are you bringing fire engines? Why not just... Bucket the sea water to the whale? Surely that’d... Cost less? Probably be more efficient?
BUT IT’S TRAIN SHOW. I’ll forgive it for wanting to add trains.
So Butch comes along with the intent of dragging the whale back to the sea, but Harold says the tide is too far out. YES! This is a real issue that happens when it comes to rescuing stranded cetaceans. Their bodies are so heavy, they can’t really support their own weight on land. So to DRAG IT back to the ocean would probably kill it.
Good job, train show!
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But also what were you planning on hooking up to, Butch? 
MOVING ON!!!
The workers cover the whale to protect it from the sun. Another yes! Beached cetaceans are very susceptible to sunburns, so they are often covered with towels and such if rescuing them takes a while. (Also I’m pretty sure the fabric holds in water, thus assisting in keeping the whale moist, so double good!)
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© Steve Everts
But uh, after covering the whale they uh spray it with... fire hoses....???
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Yeah I don’t think that’s... The greatest plan. The whale still needs to breathe. (Good job, show, for not covering the whale’s blowhole with the towel!!) That might also stress the whale out? I know some cetaceans enjoy being sprayed with pressurized water, but... Not when they’re beached... 
BUT THEY GOTTA USE THE TRAINS IN TRAIN SHOW. SO I CAN FORGIVE, AGAIN.
So Oliver says the whale can swim away when the tide comes back in. Yup, that’s pretty much how these things go! It’s kinda hard to move an animal that can weigh, in this case, up to 10 tons. But high tide won’t be for hours, and Toad wants the whale rescued now. Understandable! So he comes up with a plan to pick the whale up and bring it to the docks, where the water is deeper! 
u h
Well. Some whales have been lifted and brought back into the ocean. Exhibit A. But... They plan on putting it on a train. And... Taking it to Brendam. From Bluff’s Cove. How far away is that, again?
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...oh.
Yeah, that, uh.... That- that might be an issue, Toad. BUT THEY GO WITH IT ANYWAYS! IT’S TOAD’S EPISODE!
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where the fuck did you get a sling that big how did you get it underneath the whale
what
Also... That poor thing’s pectoral fins are being crushed???? Here’s what a whale in a sling looks like:
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©  The Press Association
From what I remember in the documentary Born to be Free, a Beluga was lifted in a stretcher without holes for its pectoral fins, and its shoulders risked being broken. (I think another one’s actually were broken? Like, during a capture. I’d have to go back and look.) But then again, I have seen a few (and I mean like 1 or 2) rescues with slings without holes for their pecs, so I can’t really criticize too much...
but how the fuck did you get a sling that big? did you custom make it? if so, why didn’T YOU ADD HOLES--
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SUDDENLY THE WHALE IS HERE NOW, WHAT????? WHO MOVED IT CLOSER TO ROCKY???
That’s just an inconsistency error than a realism issue lmfao
So they load the whale onto a flatbed, and Toad starts singing to it to soothe it along the ride.
Whales do sing to each other. But Minkes don’t sound like what you’d think a whale should sound like. (My personal favorite is the “Star-Wars” vocalization.) But let Toad sing. I’ll allow it because it’s Toad. Plus he’s singing so softly, he loves his new friend so much already
Strangely enough, the whale survives the trek.
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And Cranky lifts it up and into the water of the docks. The... Noisy... Polluted... Docks... Whales are very acoustic creatures. Sound is a way of life for them! If this thing wasn’t disoriented already from stranding and being carried across the island to a foreign location, suddenly being tossed into the docks probably didn’t help.
THIS THING BOLTS FROM THE SLING IN LIKE 4 SECONDS FLAT, SO I GUESS IT REALLY WANTED OUTTA THERE!!!
AND GUESS WHAT, SKIPPIES???
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It swims away and waves goodbye to Toad c:
IN CONCLUSION the whale should have died. stress should have killed it.
BUT this show is fictional. it’s fun, it’s cute, the story was sweet, toad is baby
and i did this just to scream about a whale
and i’m still very happy a whale was in a ttte episode thank you, season 19
BUT TO BE ACTUALLY SERIOUS FOR A SECOND
If you do spot a stranded animal, please don’t try to push or carry it back into the water. There could be something wrong with it. It could be very sick and disoriented, and if you push it back into the water, it would likely just restrand itself.
Instead, contact a local marine mammal rescue center! Sometimes animals just need to spend a little time in human care to recover, then they can be released, good as new!
THIS HAS BEEN AN EDUCATIONAL MOMENT WITH MERCIRESOLUTION.
THANK YOU FOR READING
AND IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR, I LOVE YOU. Have a heckin’ good day.
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les8ean · 3 years
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ALRIGHT OKAY YES THANK YOU
alright so putting this under a cut cause it’s gonna be long fkjdghkdf
The Black Court was one of the first courts on Homeworld, ruled by Black Diamond. So far the gems i have for her court are: Black Diamond, Black Spinel, Midnight Pearl, Selenite, Iris Agate, Silver Aura Quartz, and Black Star Sapphire
Black Diamond was White Diamond’s “sister” (i hc that it’s more common than not for 2 Diamonds to emerge at the same time, and be sorta opposites of each other (see: Blue and Yellow Diamond)). The two ruled in very different ways; while White was very controlling and strict with her gems, refusing to accept any defects, Black put the happiness of her gems first, wanting to see how they would thrive if given freedom, believing that any gem could excel.
But White had resentment for Black. She knew that gems of her court had shown envy for those in Black’s court. She also feared Black, and Black held a fear for her. Each of them had powerful skills, but they were each others antithesis. White had powerful photokinesis, and could use her mind control to take complete control of her gems Black had powerful umbrakinesis, and could use her powers to bring a gems shadow to life, allowing them to be twice as efficient in their job Each feared that the other had the power to destroy them.
White couldn’t stand not having complete control. She couldn’t stand that the gems in her court didn’t see her as the ultimate authority.
So she betrayed Black. She lured Black somewhere private, and poofed her. Unfortunately it wasn’t quite as private as White had hoped. 2 gems saw it.
Selenite, and Black Spinel. Black Spinel retaliated. She was enraged, and attacked White. But what can a Spinel do against a Diamond? White poofed Spinel too, cracking her gem quite badly in the process. The Selenite who saw stayed quiet, hiding in the shadows. She never told anyone what she saw. But she never forgot. She never forgave. Black Diamond and her Spinel were quietly and discretely sent away by White Diamond. White had them sent to an abandoned colony planet millions of lightyears away. She had all connections to the planet shut down. Any warp pads were destroyed. Any records of the planets colonization were deleted. Any gems who had worked on colonizing the planet were rejuvenated. White told all of gem-kind that Black had left Homeworld with only her most trusted gems, and had left to build her own Homeworld, to help expand Homeworld’s reach. White absorbed Black’s court into her own, and continued her now complete rule of Homeworld.
Soon, Black Diamond reformed. She was confused, betrayed, lost. She was angry. Then she noticed Spinel reforming. Her gem was cracked almost to the point of shattering. When she tried to reform, it looked painful. Finally she reformed, kneeling on the ground, head in her hands. When she raised her head, her eyes were filled with static. All Black could do was look on in horror “Spinel...” When Spinel heard her voice, she tried to come towards it. “M- My Diamond? My Diamond I... I can’t see...”
Black Diamond and Black Spinel lived on the abandoned planet for billions of years. At first they tried to find a way to escape. They wandered the planet, testing every warp-pad, checking any ship left behind for a working engine or fuel, searching for some way to get back. Spinel’s crack got worse and worse as time went on, but... she didn’t seem to care. Despite it all, she kept doing her job as a Spinel, always worried more about making Black Diamond happy and making her laugh. She would try to do all the tricks she did back on homeworld, no matter how much it would hurt her gem or make her form suffer.
Black hated it. She hated seeing how much Spinel was hurting. She hated that White would punish Spinel when she’d done nothing to deserve it. After a few thousand years she finally managed to convince Spinel to stop putting herself in danger, and Spinel instead turned to things like jokes and stories. The two bonded greatly while trapped on that planet together, their relationship shifting from just a Diamond and her Spinel, to friends. REAL friends, who confided in each other and relied on each other and cared for each other. Spinel would spend most of her time sitting on Black Diamond’s shoulder as they wandered the planet, and Black would describe the scenery to her in as much detail as she could.
And the longer they stayed on the planet, the scenery began to change. The planet had been colonized, yes, but not completely. It had been abandoned half-way through for lacking certain resources needed to properly incubate gems. So eventually, life began to return to the planet, in places where kindergartens hadn’t been established. Grass, trees, bushes, organisms of all kinds regrew, and they were able to experience the growth of a diverse living biome. Even though Spinel couldn’t see it, she could feel and hear it, and have Black Diamond describe it to her. And they were... happy. Or as happy as they could be, given the situation.
But nothing good lasts. Eventually the crack in Spinel’s gem was becoming too close to shattering her. Black was forced to poof and bubble her, promising that she would find a way off this planet and would heal her, she promised she wouldn’t abandon her or let her shatter.
Black redoubled on her search for a way back. She took apart every piece of gem-tech she came across and took whatever she could find that was useful, and did everything she could to try and build a working ship. But her hope of keeping her promise was fading. Centuries passed and she still couldn’t get the ship to work.
Then Steven’s transmission came through. An old gem message transmitter flickered to life, and Black was welcomed with the face of White Diamond. She was smiling. Black watched as the message played. As White talked about the dismantling of the Diamond Authority (an Authority that now had 3 new Diamonds. 3 new replacements for Black.). She watched as this “Steven Universe” talked about being the “son” of Pink Diamond. She watched as he spoke of “Earth” and his friends there.
And she became enraged. White had betrayed her. Taken everything from her. Cracked her Spinel. Replaced her (not once, but three times). Erased her from history. Destroyed everything she’d worked for. And now she was dismantling the Diamond Authority? The one thing Black had held onto hope of getting back was her Court. Seeing her gems again. Now it was gone. Now she just wanted to make White pay. To make her hurt like Spinel had been hurt. So Black pushed her powers beyond their limit. She connected her own gem’s energy to the ship she’d been building, and powered it with her own energy, needing constant concentration, and the whole time feeling like she was on the verge of dissipating her form. The ship was falling apart in places, and she used her powers for that too, solidifying shadows and using them to hold the ship together. And finally the ship got off the ground. It took her a few years, but she reached Earth, crash-landing in the ocean. She arrived there a few years after the events of SU:F. A lot happened after that. She poofed when she was entering Earth’s atmosphere, which caused the ship to crash. Eventually the tide washed her gem up on the shore, and she was found by a Quartz and taken to the Crystal Gems. She reformed, forced into a smaller form by the size of the room they’d been keeping her gem in, and demanded to be taken to White Diamond. Steven talked her down somewhat, and even healed Spinel, fixing her gem and bringing back her sight. Black and Spinel managed to get away from the Crystal Gems and went to Homeworld to find White. They were overwhelmed by how different everything was. They found White, and Black tried to exact her revenge. She took out all the guards, and even Blue and Yellow Diamond, but Steven arrived before Black could shatter White, and did his usual song and dance and talked her down from it. Black and Spinel fled to the depths of Homeworld, going to Black’s old palace and sulking. Steven talked to them, and convinced them that they didn’t have to forgive White, but they also shouldn’t shatter her, and took them to Little Homeschool so they could find something new to do with their lives. They discovered fusion (fusion hadn’t been discovered at ALL when BD and BS were still on Homeworld, not even same-gem fusion) and were enamored by it, and tried it for themselves, forming Black Star Diopside. Because they’d spent so much time together and had become so close, they had an almost perfect fusion, the only imperfection being that she had 6 fingers rather than 5. A few surviving gems from Black’s original court found her and re-united with her (Midnight Pearl, Silver Aura Quartz, Iris Agate, Selenite, and Black Star Sapphire). And... I haven’t really got much past that point. I think Black probably permanently stayed in that smaller form, since it was more compatible with the size of Earth’s ammenities. She and Spinel couldn’t bring themselves to go back to Homeworld very much because of how much things had changed (plus, Earth reminded them of the planet they’d been exiled on, so full of life). Black did a lot of reading up on the history of gem-kind, and what she’d missed while she was gone (and probably wrote her own book on all the history White had erased about Black and her court. Black and her court’s history came from a time before the first Era, so Black referred to it as Era 0.
aaaaand that’s about it. 3 hours of typing skjhfskhgds. this is what happens when people ask me about my OCs. And i didn’t even get into the other gems in Black’s court! this was just about Black Diamond and Black Spinel! I didn’t write anything about Black’s acceptance of defective and off-colour gems, or how she treated her colony planets, or Midnight Pearl and her relationship with Silver Aura Quartz, or anything like that!!!!
but uh yeah this is probably enough at this point. if you wanna know about the other stuff feel free to send me an ask if fkdjghkdfhgfd
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megafaunatic · 3 years
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also no pressure 2 respond to this but i was wondering if u have any advice for being new to publishing fic? i’ve been rly inspired by how vibrant & fun mdzs fandom is but i am a little (lot) terrified of just sending my work out into the void lol (i literally only remade my fandom tumblr/twitter for mdzs….It Got Me). ok sorry i’m rambling now but yeah if u have any advice abt publishing stuff or getting more involved in writer fandom community generally i would be v grateful, thank u so much !
OOHHH!!! well first of all welcome back 🤩💛 RIGHT ON it's so great that you feel inspired!!!! i feel the same way 🥰✨ reading and writing f*nf*ction has done way more for my prose writing than my english degree did so 🤪
TIPS... tips... let's see! i have em
first off, let me preface this by saying: a LOT of fandom popularity is circumstantial. my personal Fandom Trajectory has a lot to do with timing and the people i knew, and/or who knew me! plus, i happened to be one of the first wave of english language writers for BOTH jjba AND mdzs, so i already had fics posted when respective fandoms ballooned. this isn't something you can rly engineer, it's just smth to keep in mind as like. a structural aspect? i think it's probably harder to break big in mdzs fic as a new writer now than it was in 2018 - which def isn't to say it can't be done, just that it says nothing abt the quality of your fic if it DOESN'T explode.
ANYWAY on to practical Tips
first of all: yay mdzs twt!! idk if you've seen this yet, but there's a pretty common thing on mxtx Content Creator Twitter where every wednesday, people post short excerpts of their WIP fic!! just enough to be mysterious and drum up interest 🤨 that's a rly good way to start interacting w writers!! there's a hashtag #mdzsww but i just say "wip wednesday" somewhere in my tweet. i'm way more active on mdzs twitter than i am here tbh so i'm not certain whether wip wednesday had migrated over to tumblr, but tbh worth doing even if it hasn't!
in general just making yourself a friendly & interesting person to interact with is a good way to make friends!! esp when u've just made a new acct, it's kind of like. if you don't say hi first, who will, u know? but also a weirdly efficient way to get ppl to follow you is to just throw funny character thoughts out into the universe. to this day ive gotten more followers from this tweet than from any non-new-fic-tweet ive ever made
when you post your fic, tag accurately and write the summary with confidence!! my tagging strategy is generally to go from "genre" (fluff? angst?) to "premise" (canon divergence? 5+1?) to "themes" (intimacy?) to "specifics" (sharing a bed? family tension?). my summary strategy is to pick 1-3 lines from the fic - often dialogue, but not always - that capture the general tone, and then a SINGLE line describing the general premise ("they go on a road trip"). that's all! no apologizing!!!!
once your fic is posted on ao3, talk about it!! i make promo tweets with 2 screenshots of the ao3 page: 1 that shows the title and description, and 1 that shows the tags and warnings. then a link, and the text of my tweet has the words "new [ship] fic" in it somewhere - for a while i used hashtags, but then i realized... when i'm trying to find something on twitter, i never check hashtags! i just use the search function, which picks up on any text in the tweet.
i don't make promo posts on tumblr anymore bc i have way fewer followers here and i cant be assed LOL but when i did, i basically just replicated all the warnings/tags/description in the text of the post, so people would know what they were clicking on! and then just tag all the necessary fandom/ship tags
OK I THINK THAT IS... ALL FOR NOW... i hope this is helpful!!! imo like 2/3 of fic popularity is "writing what people want to read" (whether your strength is scenario, characterization, beautiful prose, weird horny, etc), and the other Full Third is just. circumstances. luck. word of mouth. sometimes you post something and it gets attention right away! sometimes you post it and then an ao3 collection gets posted ALL AT ONCE and 25 new fics immediately bump yours off the front page. IT'S A WEIRD WORLD OUT THERE!!
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gumnut-logic · 4 years
Text
Determination II (Part Three)
My infected foot has me laying around the house and off work for the rest of the week. It also means I will not be working on Nutty Day, which is kinda yay. But anyway, there should be some time to write, just be aware that my muse is a little bit all over the place at the moment, so I apologise if it gets a bit random.
But I did manage this bit tonight :D I hope you enjoy.
Sequel to episode tag to 3.24. POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR 3.24
From here.
-o-o-o-
He found Gordon in the kitchen making a sandwich.
“What are you doing?”
His little brother half turned towards him as if surprised to see him. “Grabbing food. It is dinner time, you know.”
“You are supposed to be finalising Four.”
“I am. Cool it, bro. Everything is under control.” As if to emphasise, he tossed a slice of ham into his mouth and sucked it in like a vacuum cleaner.
Scott’s hackles rose just that extra millimetre. No doubt his experienced brother’s intentions.
He shook it off. “Where’s Virgil?”
“In his room digging up some engineering literature. Dragged him back to make sure he ate. He’s as bad as you at looking after himself.” His brother held out a completed sandwich. “Hungry?”
Scott stared at the food a moment as his stomach lurched in its direction. But no... “No, I’ll eat later. I have to finish Three’s integration first.”
Gordon shrugged and took back the sandwich. “Suit yourself. Just make sure you do eat something before you fall on your face. We are kinda depending on our mighty leader in all this.”
Scott grunted at him, frowning. Maybe Gordon was right. He was hungry and he was here. Might as well kill two birds with one stone and eat dinner. He had wanted to ask Virgil to check the welds on Three anyway before he proceeded to the next stage. Fifteen minutes now might save an hour later due to lack of energy.
“Okay, fine, hand me the bread and butter.”
Gordon grinned at him, laid out two extra pieces of bread and reached for the butter.
“Oh, no you don’t. You spread it too thick, you know I hate that.” He grabbed the butter knife out of his brother’s hand as the aquanaut smirked at him.
Several slices of ham and a handful of salad later and Scott sat down with his little brother and ate.
Okay, Gordon was definitely right. A fuelled body mean efficient operation. He stuffed most of the sandwich into his mouth before he realised something was missing...or rather who.
“Where’s Virgil?”
“Looking stuff up. I told you that.”
“But isn’t he going to eat something?”
“He’ll be down, don’t worry.” Gordon had mustard. Large dollops of mustard on his sandwich and several streaks on his face.
Scott raised an eyebrow. “You’re wearing your dinner again.”
“Shows I’m enjoying it.” And he was presented with another Gordon trademark grin.
“If that is your excuse.”
“Sounds good, so I’m sticking with it.” He then smeared relish across the tip of his nose leaving it red like Rudolph the reindeer.
“Relish and mustard on the one sandwich?”
A shrug. “I like it spicy.”
“Ergh.” Scott shoved the rest of his down his throat and finished up his drink. Jumping to his feet he placed his plate and glass in the dishwasher and washed his hands. He stared up the stairs a moment before turning back to Gordon. “You sure Virgil is coming down? What’s he looking up anyway?”
“You expect me to know? I speak marine ecology, not engineerese.”
“He’s not worried about the Zero-XL is he?”
“Uh, no?”
Scott frowned at Gordon. “What did he say?”
“Ummm...”
“Virgil has been living and breathing this ship since Brains gave the go ahead. We launch tomorrow. Why is he here and not over there helping Brains finish up?”
Another shrug. “Again, aquanaut not engineer.” Gordon strode over to the freezer and yanked out a small tub. “Here, I found John’s stash of Bailey’s Ice Cream hidden in the hangar freezer. Would you believe he had it lodged behind the reserve coolant?”
Scott took the tub of decadent ice confectionery, the change in topic stalling him for a moment. “You stole John’s ice cream?”
“Well, yeah, I have a reputation to maintain, after all. I don’t even like Baileys, but hey, I found it. Want some?”
“So you’ve got a death wish.”
“Eh, he has to catch me first.”
“He caught you last time. If I recall correctly, all your music playlists have been replaced by nursery rhymes.”
“Yeah, that was a good one. You shoulda seen Virg squirm with all the ear worms.”
“I did, see him. You are lucky he didn’t see you. Have you found your player yet?”
“Sure did. Virg just doesn’t have the true skill of good revenge.”
“I wouldn’t say that to his face.”
Gordon waved a dismissive hand. “Nah, Virgil is a big softy. He won’t hurt a fly, much less his itty-bitty little brother.”
Another arched eyebrow. “I’ll remember to put that on your gravestone on the day you go too far.” He waved the ice cream tub away. “Keep it. John’s wrath is a much larger concern. I want to be able to communicate with the outside world.” He turned to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to see Virgil. I need him to check some of my work when we get back to the XL.”
“Why don’t you go back to the platform. I’ll make Virgil some food, make sure he eats it and then return with him.”
“Why?”
“Umm, I came over with Virg and left my pod on the platform? I kinda need a lift.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. But hurry up, we have a time limit here.”
Gordon saluted sharply in a definite WASP style. “Yes, sir!”
“Move it, soldier.”
Gordon let his body slouch, hunchback style and with an exaggerated limp, made it over to the refrigerator. “Yessssh, Masssster.”
A grunt and Scott turned climbing the stairs two at a time, already running the next task through his head on the way to his pod. Eating had definitely been a good idea. He already felt much sharper. He should round up Alan, Kayo and Brains and make them take a break as well.
He was climbing into his pod when he remembered that one of the reasons why he wanted get Virgil to check his welds was because he had used the newer welding equipment. While it appeared to be welding fine, he meant to double check his settings with the engineer who was far more familiar with the equipment and he had been unavailable earlier..
He hit his comms. “Virg? You got a minute?”
No answer.
“Virg, you there?”
Nothing.
Okay, that was weird. He raised his hand to comm John, but remembered that his space brother was busy preparing Five for the XL. Which was likely why he had been so distracted when Scott contacted him earlier.
Scott mentally kicked himself. This project was so overwhelmingly important to him that sometimes he forgot how important it was to his brothers as well.
A sudden image of Virgil looking up at him kindly, but with just that ghost of worry in his eyes. It was a familiar sight in so many settings. His brother had been hovering around him for weeks now, reassuring, watching, supporting...
Aaargh. He jumped down from the pod and headed back into the villa. Gordon was nowhere to be seen. Probably took dinner up to Virgil, who was likely hip deep in a search for whatever it was he was looking for.
Scott ignored the elevator and bounded up the stairs to the residential level and into the corridor leading to Virgil’s rooms.
Virgil’s door was the most ornate of all those in the hallway. His brother had travelled to Japan for one of his periods of leave about four years ago and had come back so artistically inspired, he had churned out a dozen of so paintings and one intricately carved door.
The green dragon stared at him challengingly despite being slightly ajar.
There were voices beyond it.
Gordon’s voice.
Virgil’s voice.
“What the hell are you doing? Get back to bed.”
“I need to get back out there. Scott is going to find out.”
“He’s fine. He’s on his way back. Doesn’t have a clue.”
A lump formed in Scott’s chest and climbed up his throat. What the hell?
“Gordon, I appreciate what you are trying to do, but I have to do this. This is for Dad - ah, ow, shit!”
“And this is for you! Now does that prove it to you enough yet? Get your ass back into bed before I haul Johnny down here and we drag you there.”
There was the sound of heavy breathing and a grunt.
And Scott broke.
Heart beating a mile a minute, he shoved the door open.
-o-o-o-
TBC
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myulalie · 3 years
Text
So you wanna build something
Worldbuilding is nice, but bringing it to light every so often in your story is even nicer. I’m not talking about info-dumping though, it’s more like… info-sneaking.
If you’re stealthy enough, you might be able to weave your worldbuilding into the fic without the reader really noticing what you’re doing and they’ll appreciate things because it’s fun, or sweet, or logical.
Make it feel natural
I like to worldbuild around the characters themselves and the plot, which enables me to bring it up when it’s relevant. That way it feels natural (to me, at least).
I think it’s easier to go all out in the draft or outline process, then narrow it down to what you actually need in the story.
Yes, it breaks my heart every time I have to dismiss a piece of worldbuilding but what can I say? I’d rather gush about it in the comments than lose a reader midway because I’ve been burying them under my worldbuilding.
Consent is essential ;)
Ask (the right) questions
I write fanfiction, so worldbuilding often starts with questions for me.
What do I know? What do I want to know? What do I need for my story? What do I need for my character? How does it impact the plot, the cast, the world? Who benefits from this, and who might suffer the consequences? Why do I want this (and is it necessary)?
I also find that logic helps a lot.
Let’s say the sacred animal in your world is the snake, what does it mean in your character’s daily life? Will they get punished if they step on a snake? What are the rules? What happens when you get bitten, is it symbolic? Is it a good omen or a punishment? Are the streets covered in shed skin? Does someone clean after the snake? Is a good position or a sanction? Is there some venom drinking ritual? How do outsiders react upon meeting the snakes?
I love to try and go as far as I can in every direction to be sure I’m not missing out on anything!
Reverse engineering
This is another trick I rely heavily on when my idea is already half-formed. Sometimes, I need to go back to the basics in order to build something up again.
It’s like starting from the end and unraveling the various connections I made to get there.
I take the big picture, and I dismantle it piece by piece until I have all the individual elements. It’s easier to study them like this and find out what I need to work into the fic in order for the final picture to make sense.
I sometimes get a plot and an outline out of this as well because I need to define key moments in the narrative.
Giving up… for now
You can’t always use what you came up with straight away. Sometimes, you can’t even come up with much anyway.
I like to save things for later when this happens, I can always come back to a concept when I’m ready to work with it.
I’m pretty organized so I’ll catalog everything I have in a document and save it in an ideas folder for easy access, all the while avoiding temptation since it’s not right in front of me.
I also find that sometimes it’s better to split one big idea into smaller concepts. Not all ideas work together, but that doesn’t mean they can’t stand on their own.
The truth is, while your world makes sense in your head, it might be too complex to put it into words. Sometimes you need time for your ideas to ferment and take shape as well.
About encyclopedias
Your readers have their own “encyclopedia”, made up of their experiences, knowledge, culture and imagination.
When I mentioned the snake earlier, you’ve probably come up with questions of your own that I haven’t thought of. It’s something you have to be aware of, but also something you can rely on.
I love a complex system, but I’ll understand it better if it’s not a jumbled mess. Your thought process needs to be logical enough that people can hop on and follow along.
Also, do you have writers (or readers) friends? Chances are they know a lot about something, and if you ask them they’ll be happy to talk to you about it.
I love brainstorming and bouncing ideas off my friends because they always have something to add that is both relevant and interesting.
How to worldbuild
Honestly, there are many ways to worldbuild and whatever suits you is what matters the most.
I mentioned earlier that I am quite organized, and it translates to my worldbuilding.
First of all, if I can reuse some chart from a previous story, I will. It saves time, and I’m already familiar with the material. I might copy and paste it to customize it according to the on-going project, and I’ll either color-code my subsections, or make an Excel spread-sheet depending on the need.
If I need to do research, I’ll take notes as I go, then make a synthesis of it all in order to have a nice document to look at. I’ll often get ideas for the story in itself while doing this so I highlight it for future reference.
I’m flexible and I’ll always do my best to adapt to each project because this part of the writing process sets the tone for the rest of the story.
The purpose of these documents if to find whatever I need quickly when I’m writing and I need to check something. I tend to use keywords when searching for something, so I’ll spend some time editing the words I use in order to always have the same terms, to navigate the document efficiently.
I’ll make character charts and descriptions of the various locations.
I set up a template with the information I need and use it for everything so that it always looks the same. Sometimes I’ll write entire paragraphs as a warm up before writing the story itself, and I’ll reuse sentences within the story.
It’s also the time to make moodboards if you’re into it, and if I have a playlist, I’m probably listening to it as I work. ... Yes, I get sick of it by the time I’m done with the project.
So yeah, that's how I do it. If anything in there can help, then I'm happy. Else, thanks for reading!
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kourdem · 3 years
Text
What is Artificial Intelligence?
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what is artificial intelligence? that I even have websites that provide educational materials about cyber security but what you don’t know is that last week i published a book called cyber security for the digitally challenged it’s an interactive electronic book designed for people who are not technical don’t have any background in cyber security if this description fits you then the book is supposed especially for you the book is free and should be easily downloaded at the tunes
 bookstore now back to AI i don’t realize you but once i used to be young i remember going to the 1964 world’s fair and seeing incredible and amazing futuristic devices general motors had a pavilion called the future of reality and the city of tomorrow and it had been the very first time that i saw what they called a picture phone but my first real inspect artificial intelligence began when i first started watching the Jetsons meet George Jensen is jane his wife remember once we all thought that that would be our future well variety of the predictions did come true video calling devices robotic vacuums electronic banking just to call a few of what most people don’t realize is that artificial intelligence is all around us AI is all around us you’ll see it when Alexa answers one of your questions when your email gives you a suggestion of what to reply with or even once you put a photograph on Facebook and it recognizes your face it’s so commonplace at the moment that tons of people like me are now asking what’s this all leading towards today we ask siri to pay our favourite music things like hey siri please play the beetle oh yeah or hey google what time is it in sunshine beach Australia it’s 4 28 a.m in sunshine beach Australia that’s just not a random request actually my daughter and her family live in sunshine beach Australia when you’re asking to talk to siri Alexa or google your lecture an artificial intelligence agent and this ai is learning your personal preferences the more you use the device the more it learns and the more accurately it can anticipate your every need when someone mentions artificial intelligence what’s the first thing that comes to your mind now most people imagine a military of human-like robots that are repelling against society well a few of fit few people like myself have a more positive um thinking about community envisioning a bright future so what exactly is artificial intelligence it’s definitely not a magical program that can think kind of person's it’s things like virtual companions the controlled gaming surgical robots personal assistants and other devices that we use each day to make our lives better and more efficient now it had been within the mid-1950s that John McCarthy who was a Stanford researcher coined the term AI and he would define it because the science of engineering at the science and engineering of making intelligent agents McCarthy presented his definition of artificial intelligence at a conference on the campus of Dartmouth College in Hanover New Hampshire within the summer of 1956 and this indicated the very beginning of ai research the concept of ai has changed over time but the goal has always been the same to really make computers think like humans during a nutshell ai’s goal is to make computer or computer programs smart enough to initiate the behavior of a human mind now it’s likely that you simply simply interacted with some kind of ai in your day-to-day activities probably even today if you use gmail you may enjoy the automated spam filters in fact according to google Gmail blocks a hundred million spam messages daily with its artificial intelligence agent next if you own a smartphone you probably fill out a calendar app with the help of apple siri or Microsoft’s cortina or Samsung’s Bixby and if you own a newer vehicle perhaps you’ve benefited from the driver-assisted feature while you're driving these are all possible thanks to artificial intelligence but as convenient and helpful as these products are they lack the facility to seek out out independently they can’t think outside of their code and most of you recognize that code is a written set of instructions that tells the ai what to undertake to to so here is where i would like to introduce you to machine learning and this a neighborhood of the presentation might get a little geeky machine learning could also be a branch of ai whose purpose is to supply machines the ability to seek out out a task without pre-existing code our ability to seek out out and acquire better at tasks through experience may be a component of being human when we’re born we all know almost nothing and can do almost nothing for ourselves but soon we’re learning and becoming more capable each day but did you recognize that computers can do the same machine learning brings together statistics and computing to enable computers to seek out out the thanks to do a given task without being programmed to undertake to to so just as your brain uses experience to reinforce at a task so can computers say you'd sort of a computer that can tell the difference between a picture of a dog and a picture of a cat you'll begin by feeding it images and telling it this one’s a dog that one’s a cat a computer program to seek out out will seek statistical patterns within the data that will enable it to acknowledge a cat or a dog in the future it'd determine on its own that cats have shorter noses which dogs are available a much bigger kind of sizes and then represent that information numerically organizing it in space but crucially it’s the pc not the programmer that identifies those patterns and establishes the algorithm by which future data are getting to be sorted one example of a simple yet highly effective algorithm is to hunt out the optimal line separating cats from dogs when the pc sees a replacement picture it checks which side of the road it falls on then says either cat or dog but actually there are often mistakes the more data the pc receives the more finely tuned its algorithm becomes and the more accurate it are often in its predictions machine learning is already widely applied it’s the technology behind facial recognition text and speech recognition spam filters on your inbox online shopping or viewing recommendations credit card forward detection then much more at the university of oxford machine learning researchers are combining statistics and computer science to make algorithms which can solve more complex problems more efficiently using less computing power from medical diagnoses to social media the potential of machine learning to transform our world is really mind-blowing machine learning could also be a could also be a rare sorry machine learning may be a neighborhood of research in computing that studies a special kind of instruction called algorithms algorithms are a gaggle of step-by-step instructions used to do something an algorithm is really only a gaggle of rules as an example if you sort your laundry before you’re washing it you use an algorithm if the algorithm is to put the white laundry on the left pile and the colored laundry on the right pile and you repeat until you’re done this is an algorithm it’s just that simple machine learning uses a gaggle of instructions that improve automatically based on experience in other words what makes machine learning algorithms different from others is that they’re able to learn from the data that we feed them image recognition could also be a exemplar every day we’re getting image recognition more involved so on help us with our personal daily lives if you see some strange looking plant your friend is growing in their living room simply point google lands at it and it will tell you what it's if your discord friend uploads a photograph of their new cat and you'd wish to understand what breed it's just run a google image reverse search and you’ll determine what it's even self-driving vehicles need to know where they can drive which may be a road where are the lanes where they're going to make a turn what the difference is between a red light green light and amber light where the stop signs are well you get the message as you will see image recognition could also be an enormous a neighborhood of deep learning and it are often both cool and scary so how does it work here’s a basic explanation in order for that car to know what a stop sign looks like it must tend an image of a stop sign the machine will read the stop sign and through a selection of algorithms it will then study the stop sign and analyze how the image goes to look by going section per section what color is that the stop sign what shape is it what’s written thereon how big is it always and where is it usually seen during a driver’s peripheral vision things like that if there’s any errors scientists can simply correct them once the image has been completely read it are often labeled and categorized but why stop with one image in our perspective we don’t really need to think for half a second on what a stop sign is and what we must do once we see it we’ve seen numerous stop signs in our lives it’s almost embedded in our brains so the machine must read many different stop signs for better accuracy that way it doesn’t matter whether the stop sign is seen during foggy or rainy conditions during the night or during the day because the machine has seen a stop sign many times it can know it’s a stop sign just by watching its shape and color alone all of that sounds really cool right but it can also be scary if you upload and replica your photos go check out your photos if you haven’t sorted anything you’ll notice that google has done it for you there’s a category for places things videos and animations and maybe others and if you attend things you’ll see that google has sorted your photos into albums supported where google thinks they belong so you’ll have photos labeled as food beaches trains buses and whatever else you will have photographed within the past this is all due to the work of google’s image recognition analysis it has analyzed over 1,000,000 photos on the internet your photos your friends photos strangers photos and any photo that appears on google image search it’s not just google that uses image recognition also if you upload a photo and facebook recognizes your friends it will automatically tag them so yes it’s quite creepy considering it’s a privacy concern but some people may appreciate the convenience anyways because it saves a short time no matter how cool or scary it's image recognition plays a huge role in society and will still be in development many companies are continuing to implement image recognition and other ai technologies the more we'll automate certain tasks with machines the more productive we'll be as a society now because the video described an image recognition machine could even be given millions of pictures to research after going through many changes the machine acquires the ability to acknowledge patterns shapes faces and even more speech recognition is another exemplar of this there are two basic kinds of artificial intelligence the first is weak ai which is additionally known as narrow ai this type of ai can handle only one task at a time for example it can select your favorite song from spotify select your favorite movie from netflix filter your email spam or instruct a self-driving car the second is what’s called strong iai and it’s also mentioned as artificial general intelligence or agi this is much more sophisticated this type of ai refers to a system which is able to affect a generalized task much like an individual's agi as it’s abbreviated can successfully perform any intellectual task that an individual's can this sort of ai is this is that the ai that we’ve seen in movies like her and other scientific movies during which humans interact with machines and operating systems these artificial intelligent agents are conscious they can sense things and are driven by emotion and self-awareness but for machines to understand a true human-like intelligence they need to be capable of experiencing consciousness and as far as as far as today this has not happened hello i’m here oh hi hi how you doing i’m well how’s everything with you pretty good actually it’s very nice to meet you now that’s just slightly excerpt from her for all of you that never saw the movie you need to it’s quite interesting efforts to advance ai concepts over the over the past 20 years have resulted in some truly amazing innovations let’s inspect a few of meet digit manufactured by agility robotics digit is envisioned to help lookout of people in their homes assist with disaster response and deliver packages to front doors with its nimble limbs and a torso packed with sensors digit can navigate complex environments and perform tasks like package delivery digit could also be an immediate descendant of cassie agility’s first robot in may 2019 ford motor company and agility announced a partnership to develop a last mile logistics solution that combines ford’s autonomous vehicle technology and agilities digit this is pepper manufactured by softbank robotics pepper is that the world’s first social humanoid robot that is able to recognize faces and basic human emotions pepper has been adopted by over 2 000 companies around the world perfect in retail and finance industries pepper has numerous functionalities including increasing store traffic by attracting the attention of shoppers creating memorable in-store experiences stimulating purchase and retained customers pepper can also gather comprehensive data to enrich the customer base and generate shopper insights this is atlas the world’s most dynamic humanoid robot built by boston dynamics an organization that was previously owned by google and now by softbank thanks to its state-of-the-art hardware and algorithm that allows it to quickly understand instructions with its 28 hydraulic joints 4.9 feet of height and 176 pounds weight the robot can perform both impressive and terrifying acts including navigating uneven terrain jumping around a parkour course and doing somersaults all these activities demonstrate human level agility so the robot are often perfect for search and rescue operations and performing human tasks in environments where humans couldn't survive introducing spot a robot dog designed for industrial uses such as carrying goods through a warehouse and inspecting a far off site with an unfavorable environment for human operators it can run at 5.2 feet per second has 360 degree cameras and can operate in temperatures ranging from 4 to 113 degrees fahrenheit with its api and versatile payload interface the robot are often easily customized for desired tasks spod is additionally manufactured by boston dynamics and is now being leased to eligible companies these are truly amazing but now let’s inspect how ai learns typically there are three learning method methods supervised learning unsupervised learning and something called reinforcement learning in supervised learning the computer scientist would label the correct answer and ai would learn the pattern by comparing the proper answer with other possible answers in unsupervised learning the scientist would provide the proper answer and thus the algorithms would infer patterns from the data set without reference to the known or labeled outcomes now this may get very very technical the last is known as reinforcement learning and it really plays a very very minor role in training ai but it’s very almost like training an animal giving them reinforcement when the animal displays the required behavior it’s given a present now this gets to be very complex and very geeky so that’s about all that every one the knowledge that i’ll give you now computers and other ai applications are everywhere today it'd be almost impossible to go through your entire life without using any quite artificial intelligence we use cars atms tvs and these all contain computers and ais with ai assistants here’s slightly song to help you remember televisions cars airplanes traffic lights computers are everywhere around us computers are everywhere around us i know that’s silly but i assumed it might cause you to smile let’s inspect a few of straightforward applications of ai that probably most of you use first siri is one of the foremost popular personal assistants offered by apple on the iphone ipad and thus the apple watch she helps to hunt out information get directions send messages make voice phone calls open applications and add events and even add events to my calendar siri uses machine learning technology in order to urge smarter and capable to understand natural language questions and requests next is netflix and netflix needs no introduction it’s a widely popular content on demand service that uses predictive technology to provide recommendations on the thought of your reaction interest choices and behavior once you choose films the technology examines content to reconnect sorry to recommend movies that are based on your previous liking and your reactions now remember netflix is turning more and more intelligent every single year as it get gathers more data on you next is pandora and pandora is considered the world’s most powerful music discovery platform it uses a proprietary algorithm to determine which music to play for you at any given time it’s also called the dna of music because depending upon 400 musical characteristics the team of expert musicians individually analyzes the song and the ai algorithm then recommends the song to you on your personal playlist next is nest and it’s made by google and nest is one of the foremost famous and successful AI startups google acquired it in 2014 for 3.2 billion dollars and thus the nest learning system thermostat uses behavioral algorithms to save you energy supported your behavior and schedule it uses a very intelligent machine learning process that learns the temperature that you simply simply like and programs itself during a few week moreover it'll automatically pack up to save energy if nobody is reception next is my favorite and it’s a flying drone they’re variety of my favorite toys they indicate a robust machine learning system that can translate the environment into a 3d model through its sensors and camera videos sorry and and thus the and video cameras they magically fly which they return home safely almost to the precise spot where they left from amazon echo and apple’s homepod are amazing these are revolutionary products which can assist you to seem the web for information schedule appointments shop control lights and switches and thermostats answer questions read you audio books report traffic weather provide you with information on local businesses provide sports scores and your schedule just to call a few of smart watches are awesome which i always own one actually i’m such an electronic junkie that i always got to have the foremost up-to-date version of the apple i watch smart watches are equipped with advanced ai and will monitor your every move within the old days we’d walk 10 miles to highschool within the snow or so we thought and now we've smart watches and phone apps and AI wearables to tell us exactly how far we’re walking or running and they also track our pulse the number of calories burned and many other metrics artificial intelligence is gaining popularity at a quicker pace influencing the way that we live and interact with our surroundings the internet of things is growing larger every day and internet of things devices cannot function without AI and AI needs iot devices to be of greater use to humanity these technologies hold the power to transform our lives when it involves ai it’s difficult to truly know where we’re headed but we’ve come so far so quickly the thing is today that we don’t realize when we’re in-tuned with artificial intelligence because we’re getting so used to the technology doing new and amazing things each day that we don’t start to stop to believe the science behind the gadgets or the programs.
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s-j-ace · 4 years
Text
The Same Question
Chapter Two
Characters: Shuichi Saihara, Ouma Kokichi
Words: 2002
Summary:
After Detective Shuichi Saihara encounters mysterious thief Kokichi Ouma for the first time, a game of cat and mouse ensues as both men ask themselves the same question. Why exactly does the elusive phantom thief do what he does?
This is Chapter Two, find Chapter One Here
Read on AO3
   Kokichi Ouma stood on the rooftop of the Silver Legacy Resort Casino in Reno Nevada laughing maniacally to no one in particular. At least, no one as of yet.
   In his hand, he held a remote control for two of those… giant metal grabber arm machines. Except they were used for construction. (Named after a bird… CRANE. They were cranes.) Except for now when they were being used to rip two very expensive crystal chandeliers out of the lower levels of the building he was standing on. He felt the world shake as the cranes raised their arms in celebration of acting outside of their intended use, each holding up a chandelier like they were about to put earrings on the building he stood upon.
   Seconds later, the rooftop access door burst open. Kokichi watched as detective Saihara walked into the light of the evening sky. He looked tired and a little disheveled just like how Kokichi remembered him, but when he turned to see Kokichi, still cackling away, something in his eyes changed. They became harder. More determined somehow.
   The detective started walking toward him. "Stop right there!" He shouted like he was some sort of real-life action hero, and Kokichi felt excitement skyrocket within him.
   "Uh-uh-uh." Kokichi tutted, feeling his glee slip onto the expression hidden by his mask. "I should be saying that to you, Detective. After all…" God this was good. Kokichi held up the remote control in his hands. "I could just… drop one of these chandeliers. I don’t need both. Just one press of a button is all it would take to shatter these babies on the pavement."
   Saihara hesitated for a moment and his eyes glanced to the side of the building. Kokichi deduced from the movement that Saihara had been trying to see if there was anything down below the chandeliers that could get crushed. Kokichi knew it was nothing but some too-fancy cars, but Saihara decided his best bet was to stay where he was.
   "What are you playing at?" His eyes were focused on Kokichi again.
   The thief blinked innocently. "Who, me? I'm not playing at  anything . I take my life very seriously, thank you very much." He gestured to the chandeliers. "I just need some help making a decision."
   "A… decision?" The detective asked warily.
   "Yup!” Kokichi felt like he needed this moment to last longer than he knew it was going to. “I need to take one of these chandeliers home with me to decorate our evil lair, but I accidentally took both! So I'll let you have one back if you help me decide."
   He turned to the chandelier dangling on the left and hummed as if considering it. "Now I like this one because it's very sparkly. But this one…" he turned around and fiddled with the controller for the right chandelier so that the hundreds of tiny crystals would hit against one another. "Is more jangly."
   Saihara looked like he was going to be sick as the chandelier clattered on.
   "Well, frankly I think you shouldn't have either if this is how you're going to treat them…"
   Oh... that's what Kokichi was hoping he'd say.
   "Wow, I think you're right. If I really wanted a chandelier for the lair I wouldn’t treat it so roughly... You really are a smart one, Mr. Detective." He shrugged. "Guess I won't take either."
   Kokichi watched Saihara's moment of realization morph into a look of subsequent regret as he pushed the button that released the cranes' grasps.
   Kokichi was a little disappointed when the detective ran for the side of the building, as if the detective could do anything to stop a one-tonne chandelier from speeding hastily to a shattering death, instead of doing the sensible thing and chasing after him, the culprit. Although, as Kokichi began to make his escape he realized that Saihara was searching the ground below. His expression was familiar and Kokichi realized that it was the same look of concern he had witnessed on the detective’s face when he held his hand back on the plane.
   Kokichi, forgetting about the fact he was in the middle of a high stake escape attempt, took a second to look down at his finger. The bandage was gone now. He’d thrown it away the day after in a weird mood. There was still a thin scab on it, a strange reminder of his physical existence. He remembered how careful Shuichi had been when he’d gotten hurt.
   Kokichi felt his heartbeat crescendo suddenly, but the starting of the engine in the helicopter behind him drowned it out.
   Oh yeah… He should… Get in that...
  Was Saihara looking for casualties? Of course, there wouldn't be any. Kokichi had made sure of that. It was the number one rule of DICE, you know. No killing. Just because obviously killing people is bad. Not that Saihara knew that.
   He supposed that was working to his advantage.
   By the time the detective turned around to face him again, Kokichi was stepping into the escape chopper as Hearts sat inside flipping the switches needed to initiate takeoff.
   When Saihara got to the end of the rooftop, Kokichi was hanging out from the side of the getaway chopper about a decameter over the building. Kokichi realized he was still laughing and stopped. The detective probably couldn’t hear him over the beating of the propeller, so there was no point to it. He settled into a billboard-style grin and looked down on the detective standing alone on the rooftop. Strangely enough, the expression on the detective's face had seemed to shift from surprise to calculation in the moment Kokichi had turned away. Suddenly his expression lit up and he turned around to run to the rooftop door.
   “So he figured it out huh…” Kokichi muttered to himself as the detective disappeared from the rooftop. How smart of him to realize that Kokichi’s ploy was the distraction for this particular rendezvous with grand larceny.
   “Did you see his face when I dropped the chandeliers?” He crooned to Hearts, not letting any concern over how the remaining members of DICE were fairing show in his demeanor.
   “Yes, yes, I’m sure it was delicious,” She called to him over the sound of the propelling blades.
The thief resumed his cartoonish cackling, watching as the detective's silhouette grew further and further away.
“Hey!" Hearts called back again after they had gotten a good distance away from Saihara. "You might wanna tuck in there, boss, I think the american police are arriving with their cartoonishly militarized long distance weaponry.”
   “Nah, I think I'll flap around in the wind a bit,” Kokichi joked as he hopped into the chopper and started forcing the hatch closed. “I’ve got that ‘becoming swiss cheese’ part of my bucket list to fill out.”
   “Aww, boss you don’t have to do that.” Hearts was humoring him again. “You’re already a snack.”
   “I know,” Kokichi managed to close up the side and it suddenly became a lot easier to hear everything inside the cockpit. He walked over to buckle into the co-pilot seat and shifted into a huge grin and a dramatic pose. “I’m simply scrumptious.”
   “Yeah, sure ya are." She said without looking at him, eyes fixed on the skies ahead. "Where are we landing this thing again?”
   “The car’s parked at that hospital we scoped out with the helipad. We just gotta land there and go through the vents.”
   “Ugh, you and your vents.”
   “They’re very efficient! Besides, you have no right to complain. You get to put on a disguise and walk around normal after the 4th floor. I gotta scrunch up and fit in the rolling cart.”
   “And whose fault is that?”
   He should probably keep this conversation going for 2 ½ minutes.
“God’s, he’s jealous of me.”
   “No, I’m pretty sure it’s the guy who blew his cover by flirting with a detective.”
   “Eh, same difference.”
   "No, you can't be God. God is a lesbian."
   "I never claimed to be God, just a being of equal if not greater power who took the old God’s place. Way to contribute to the bury your gays trope, Hearts."
   She snorted. "Boss, you're a white boy in a clown mask. No offense, but if lesbian God saw you she'd smite on sight."
   Kokichi could probably argue that he was an ambiguously pale Asian in a clown mask seeing as he was found in an alley in Japan, but he decided that wasn't what he wanted this conversation to be. "Then at least I'll finally be brought to justice."
   “Being born a clown is one thing, but I think your real crime is your unnecessarily convoluted plans." She huffed. "Why can’t we just drop the chopper in the woods?”
   Kokichi frowned. “Because we have to return it, remember?”
   “Since when do we return things? Do you want us to return those massive remote control cranes we left back there?”
   “Well of course not!”  Although he felt rather indifferent on the matter, Kokichi shouted angrily and threw the remote he was still holding into the back of the chopper. “We stole those from that Togami Corp building. Their CEO makes like a billion dollars every day, he can come get his own damn cranes.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Hearts replied, barely responding to his outburst. “But it’s not like the hospital people wouldn’t be able to find the helicopter if we left it in the woods or something. Also, there’s less cops in the woods; which I would say is a plus.”
   “Come on,” Kokichi huffed, going back and forth on whether or not to shift out of this persona or not. He went with the latter and smoothed out his tone a bit. “It’d be harder to close down the hospital for an investigation than it would be to secure the perimeter of the dinky forests they have out here.”
   Hearts groaned. “Ugggh. Fine. I’ll crawl in the stupid vents.” She frowned down at her pristine white uniform. “The quarters in those stupid arcade machines better be enough for my dry cleaning bill.”
   “This one’s not about the quarters Heartsie, it’s about the real gamer life.” Kokichi may have been raised by video games, but he wasn't as into playing them as Clubs was nowadays. He'd beat still anyone any time in a versus game though, because he was just that much of a pro gamer. Or maybe because he was kinda good at predicting what he'd be challenged to do and was also extremely good at memorizing gaming manuals.
   “Yeah, yeah, whatever." Wow, Hearts was really out here oppressing gamers. "You’re the boss."
   Kokichi made a face and decided he also wanted to oppress gamers. "Well, I mean, it was Clubs' choice."
   "I know." She suddenly perked up a bit. "Hey, speaking of choices... The Museum of Egyptian Antiquities in Cairo is opening its last exhibit next week-"
   "Hey!" Kokichi interrupted. He thought about covering her mouth, but then remembered that she was driving a helicopter that they were both in. He let his hands settle into a gesture of emphasis instead. "You can't pitch during the getaway! It's not fair to the salt of the earth folk that're still down there pilfering the seventies."
   "Come ooon, Boss! My thing's got a time limit, and there’s this rug-"
   "You know the rules." He scolded.
   A timer went off in his brain.
   Kokichi turned away, pulling out his phone to text the ground crew that Saihara was probably closing in on them around now. They’d probably have liked him to tell them earlier, but Kokichi wanted to keep them on their toes after a maddeningly easy break-in. As a bonus, sending them the text let him shun Hearts while she sulked.
   This had been fun, he thought privately, more fun than most heists. Never a dull moment, it seemed, with the good detective around.
   As he hit send, Kokichi wondered if Saihara would follow him to Cairo too.
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ladyfogg · 4 years
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May I? - 11/?
May I? - 11/?
Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.
Fic Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Data/Female OC
Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut
Tumblr media
Screenshot by @ geekygwen
Data left Faith's quarters, replaying the kiss in his mind over and over again. It was the first one he himself had initiated and he was still uncertain as to what made him do so. However, when he told her he enjoyed it, he was not putting up a pretense. While it caused no emotional reaction, he was still able to appreciate the nuance of the kiss.
Faith's lips were soft against his but firm in their pressure. He could hear her heart beating wildly, sense elevated blood flow running through her veins. The way she looked at him when he pulled away was what stuck with him the most. Hyperspace reflected in her pupils, dilated with arousal. She had studied him as if she were afraid he would disappear, taking in every detail she could.
No one had ever looked at him like that before. And that was what he enjoyed.
He had every bit of confidence in her ability to handle her new position within Engineering, though there was another matter that Data needed to address.
Geordi was busy organizing his staff when Data arrived. The android took note of who was available, searching for Carver. When he did not find him, he approached Geordi just as his friend was finishing up his instructions. 
"Team One you'll stay here and begin repairs. Sawyer, I want you to keep a list of needs to be done at starbase and what we can do on our own. Team Two, you'll help me dismantle the device for study. If anyone comes back from sickbay, let me know and I'll assign them a team. Team Two, be ready to go in five minutes."
Everyone scattered to get to work and Geordi turned to Data. "How's Faith?" he asked.
"She is resting, per Dr. Crusher. She will be ready to take her post by morning," Data informed him.
"Good. I'm glad she's alright. She did a damn good job today."
"Yes, she did," Data said. "Have you spoken to Ensign Carver about his behavior?"
"Oh yeah," Geordi assured him. "It was the first thing I did when I got back."
"Where is he?"
Geordi gestured towards the warp core. "Working with his tail between his legs. He knows he screwed up. I don't foresee any more trouble coming from him anytime soon."
"Excellent." Data turned and headed in that direction.
"Whoa, hey, where are you going?" Geordi asked. 
"I must speak with him myself."
"What are you going to say?"
"While I was waiting with Faith in sickbay, I researched ways to defend the honor of one's romantic partner," Data explained. "I then pulled from my research and wrote a program based on this particular situation and what I believe Faith will or will not appreciate."
"In other words, a guy insulted your woman and you're gonna give him a piece of your mind?"
Data gave a firm nod. "Precisely."
Geordi smirked and lovingly shook his head. He put his hands up in surrender and said, "Be my guest." As Data walked by him, Geordi grabbed his arm to stop him. "Seems like that dinner was a date after all."
"It at least was an attempt. We will try again once things are less hectic."
"I'm happy for you, Data."
"Thank you, Geordi."
Data took the lift up to the second level. He found Carver fixing one of the conduits but as he approached, the ensign immediately stopped his work and straightened up.
"Commander!" he exclaimed. "What can I do for you?"
"I believe you and I need to have a talk," Data said. "It is about what happened this evening."
Carver had the decency to look sheepish. "Commander La Forge already spoke to me. I am so sorry! I was way out of line."
"That you were. But this is of a personal nature," Data said. "I do not appreciate you insinuating that Faith was being unjust in her reaction because she and I were intimate."
Carver's eyes widened. He clearly was not expecting Data to question him directly about the incident.
"Commander, I—"
"I am not finished," Data interrupted. "Not only were your comments based on false information, but you also insulted her honor and integrity. I can only assume you jumped to the wrong conclusion when you overheard me speaking to Commander La Forge this morning. After this talk, I will not air my personal life out in the open. Regardless, you were in the wrong and I expect you to apologize to Lieutenant Diaz when she arrives tomorrow morning." He stepped in closer, voice dropping into a low but firm tone. "Understood? " 
Carver swallowed thickly, nodding. "Y-Yes, sir. I will, sir. Again, I am so sorry."
Data took another step closer and Carver practically shrank back. "She does not need me to fight her battles, nor do I wish to overstep, but should I hear even a whisper of insubordination or crudeness coming from you, it will be me you have to deal with. Am I making myself clear?"
Carver nodded again, harder this time. "Yes, sir."
Data straightened his stance and took a step back. "Good. I am glad we had this discussion. Carry on." He turned and left Carver behind, satisfied in his approach. 
Geordi was waiting for him when he stepped off the lift. "Feeling better?"
Data did not have the need to reiterate his lack of emotions. Instead, he said, "Much. I shall return to my quarters to check on Spot. I will be working from my console for the remainder of the evening, analyzing the enemy ship. Please let me know once the dismantling of the device is complete."
"Will do, buddy. See you in the morning."
Data nodded and left Engineering.
He found Spot hiding under the bed. It took some coaxing for her to come out but when she finally did, Data rewarded her with her favorite supplements. 
Data sat at his console, loading all the information from the battle. The ship that attacked them was an anomaly. While its warp function did not match up to the Enterprise, its weapon system did. It bore no resemblance to any of the Federation's known enemies and it never responded to their hails. It attacked them completely unprovoked. 
Logically, it did not make sense.
Data worked through the evening, analyzing and compiling information. Worf's security sweep yielded nothing and Engineering was still dismantling the device by the time oh-seven hundred hours came.
Deciding to meet Faith before their shifts, Data left his quarters. She answered the door already dressed, but her eyes told Data she had not slept well.
"Good morning," he said, stepping into her quarters. "You do not look particularly rested."
"I don't feel it either," she said, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. "Let me grab some coffee and then we can head out." She walked over to the replicator. "French vanilla coffee, hot, cream and two sugars."
As the cup appeared, Data said. "I believe we concluded having only coffee for breakfast is not nutritious."
Faith rolled her eyes but there was affection in her gaze. "Scrambled eggs with two pieces of buttered wheat toast." She made a show of holding up the plate when it appeared. "There, better?"
"Better." 
They sat at her table together and Data watched as Faith took a dutiful bite of toast before reaching for her coffee.
"I was monitoring the investigation's progress last night when I couldn't sleep," she said. "Can't say I'm surprised security didn't find anything."
"Neither was I," Data said. "Our culprit does seem to be a slippery foe. However, I believe I may have created a way to detect how they are cloaking themselves."
"How?"
She reached for the coffee again but at Data's raised eyebrow, she took a spoonful of eggs first before taking another sip.
"Last year, we encountered a group of terrorists who traveled inter-dimensionally. It was highly unstable and harmful to travelers. However, it allowed them to transport without being detected. The computer still has the data from their devices. I believe I can use that information to create our own device that will detect that technology."
"Excellent. If we can connect it to the sensors, we'd be able to tell if someone decides to pop up on our ship."
"Precisely."
"Would we be able to stop them from leaving again?"
Data considered her question. "With a few minor adjustments, I believe that will be possible."
"Great! Let's get started!" Faith stood but Data touched her hand.
"Faith, I do not wish to come across as pushy, but you will function more efficiently with the proper sustenance."
Faith chuckled. "Are you telling me to finish my food first?"
"I will ask that you consider it."
She smiled and sat back down. "You know, Data, if you were anyone else I'd be annoyed or angry."
"Why is that?"
"Because I'd feel like they were judging me," she said, returning to her breakfast. "At least with you, my anxiety can't go that route. I know it's because you are genuinely concerned."
"While I appreciate the compliment, I will say that I do not believe those close to you on the Enterprise will judge either."
"No. No, I suppose they wouldn't. Alright, let me finish this so we can go." She scooped the eggs between two pieces of toast and bit into the makeshift sandwich. 
Once she was done eating, Data put her plate back on the replicator for her while she downed the rest of her coffee.
Before they left, however, an alarm peeped and she stopped by her desk. "Almost forgot!" she said, pulling out her hypospray.
Data watched her take her medication before replacing the device. "Computer, reset alarm," she said as she adjusted her uniform. She turned to Data. "How do I look?"
"Beautiful."
She smiled softly, reaching for his hands which he accepted. "Thank you," she said. "For caring."
"You are welcome."
They did not leave her quarters hand in hand. Faith let him go as soon as they crossed the threshold. Together they walked in silence, though Data did not feel that Faith was at ease. Data could sense the tension in her. 
"What is occupying your thoughts?"
"Am I that obvious?"
"To me, yes."
Faith was silent for several seconds. "Do you think Geordi said anything to Carver?" she eventually asked.
"He did," Data said. "As did I."
Faith stopped walking but it took Data a second to notice. When he did, he paused and turned to look back at her. 
"You spoke to Carver?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"His behavior towards you and insinuations needed to be addressed."
Faith did not look relieved or appreciative. "But I was going to address them. Now he's really going to think I can't take care of myself." Her voice sounded strained and he could identify the panic in her eyes.
"I do not share your conclusion," Data countered. "Your actions during the battle proved otherwise as did your ability to speak out against him." He studied Faith's expression. "Did I make an error? Are you angry?"
She took a deep breath as she rubbed her forehead absentmindedly. "No. Well, yes, a little," she admitted. "Just...if this happens again, please let me handle it on my own."
"I understand and I apologize if I overstepped," Data apologized. "If it helps, I did preface my comments by saying you do not require me to fight your battles."
Her lips twitched into a smile and she began to walk again, catching up to Data so they could continue together. "That does help a bit. Apology accepted."
"I shall adjust the program as necessary."
"Program?" 
"As you know, I lack sufficient programming for many human situations. Last night I wrote a program designed specifically to defend your honor."
"Aww, you wrote a program for me? How sweet."
"If you do not wish for me to defend you at all, I can delete the program."
"Well, let's not be too hasty. How about this: if someone insults me to your face, then feel free to defend me however your program sees fit. Sound good?"
"I can establish those parameters." 
When they reached Engineering, they were met by Geordi. "Glad you guys are here," he said. "Faith, I need you to continue coordinating repairs. We'll be reaching the starbase soon and I want the crews to be able to start the second they get on board."
"On it, Commander," she said with a nod. "I'll talk to you two later." She shot Data a smile before taking her leave.
"Data, take a look at this," Geordi said, pulling up the device's schematics on the main console. "My team just finished our investigation."
"Did you find something intriguing about the transmitter's construction?"
"That's the crazy thing…no," Geordi said. "We found nothing unusual or interesting. It was a standard transmitter made from basic materials. Aside from the fact that it was seemingly made by ghosts, it's not special at all. There's absolutely no signature or indication of where it came from."
Data scanned through the information, cross-referencing it with the reports he and Faith had compiled to ensure nothing was overlooked. Finding no inconsistencies, he took control of the console from Geordi.
"I have been constructing plans for a device that can detect and disable interdimensional travel," he said. "Since we know the intruders are not physically on the ship and it is highly improbable they were able to transport on, it is my next working theory."
"At this point, I'd try anything," Geordi sighed, sounding exhausted. "How long will it take to build?"
"I will need several hours."
"Do it. And while you and Faith have got this covered, I'm going to get to some sleep."
"That is a good idea. I will contact you once the work is complete."
"Thanks." Geordi stepped away to speak with Faith before he left to go rest.
Data spent the rest of the day focused on his device. It was difficult finding the right parts, as many spare materials were being used for the ship repairs. But he managed to improvise when necessary.
Occasionally, Faith would come over to check on him, but for the most part, he worked in solitude, determined to produce something that could give them an edge.
It was well into the night by the time he finished. By then, Faith had already retired to her quarters and the night Engineering crew had started. 
Data knew his device would work and after integrating it with the sensors, he let Worf and Geordi know what to look out for before he too retired for the day.
With nothing to do with the investigation except to wait, Data decided to take part in one of his recreations. He had the image of Faith in the starlight that he wanted to capture on canvas. After feeding Spot, he set up his supplies and began to paint.
He had been painting for two hours and sixteen minutes when his door chimed. "Come in."
The doors opened and Faith shuffled in. Data had not expected to see her before morning. She was wearing a fluffy robe tied at the waist and had braided her hair per usual, but the loose strands suggested she had been tossing and turning. The dark circles under her eyes supported his theory.
"Cannot sleep?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I keep dozing off and then waking up," she muttered with a pout.
She wandered into the living area and dropped down onto the couch across from him. "Find anything useful with your device?"
"Not yet."
"If that doesn't work, what's your plan?"
Data opened his mouth to answer but then stopped. Instead, he put down his paintbrush, giving her his full attention.
"I do not think working will help your insomnia," he said. 
"I'll be fine, Data."
He knew this to be false. Sleep was essential to humans just as eating, drinking, and breathing.
"I do not share in your assessment," Data said. "You have been working very hard and need your rest in order to have full control of your mental faculties. I must insist you go to bed."
"Since when did you become so protective?" Faith asked. Her tone suggested she was teasing him.
"Since I adjusted your defense program to include a protective function. Now…" He put his hands on his hips to simulate a stern stance. "Will you go willingly or will I have to make you?"
What he said seemed to have a different effect on Faith than he anticipated. Rather than looking chastised or sheepish, her face flushed and her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips.
"Make me?"
"I am stronger than you. I will carry you to bed if need be."
"Uh...I'll, uh, I'll go to bed on my own," she stuttered, getting to her feet. "Yeah, that's a good idea."
Data studied her retreating frame curiously. "Did I make an error again? I did not mean to come across as controlling."
"N-No, you didn't. You're fine. Really fine. It's fine." She quickened her pace, almost reaching the door.
Her nervousness was different. Data ran through the scenarios until he realized what was wrong. "Did my forceful tone arouse you?" he asked.
Faith halted her steps and turned back around, showcasing the sheepish look he had been anticipating earlier.
"You took me by surprise is all," she said. "I've never heard you be so...firm before." Her hand reached up to fiddle with the end of her braid. "Don't worry about it. Actually, can we just forget this ever happened?"
"Not possible. I do not forget anything."
"Yeah, figured it was a long shot to ask." She nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
"I shall refrain from using such a tone when we are not alone, so not to arouse you in public."
At that, Faith chuckled. "I'm an adult, Data. I'm not gonna throw my legs in the air every time I hear you give someone an order."
"Legs in the air?" He processed her words. "Ah. You mean sex." Data raised an eyebrow. "Do you wish to do so now? We are not currently in public."
"Are you asking me to have sex with you?"
"I am asking if that is something you wish to do at this moment."
Faith studied him curiously. "You don't feel sexual desire, correct?"
"That is correct."
"So you asking me right now is purely for my benefit? You don't get anything out of it?"
"Not necessarily," Data corrected. "While it is true I do not feel pleasure as humans do, I can appreciate the need for sex and the closeness it provides. As I stated previously, I am fully capable of engaging in intercourse and am programmed in many techniques."
"Have you had sex before?"
"Yes. Only once. Six years, seven months, and twenty-two days ago."
Faith looked pensive. "I guess I never thought about whether or not you had sex."
"Because I am an android, most assume I cannot," he said. "Do you not wish for our relationship to become sexual? I would ask if you are sexually attracted to me but based on certain reactions I know that you are."
Faith's face increased in temperature again and she folded her arms across her chest in a protective stance. "I am," she admitted. "But we just became close and I'm not ready for that yet."
"I understand. For most beings it is a big step forward in the relationship," Data said. "Would you be more comfortable discussing this at another time?"
"Yes. Yes, I would."
"Very well," Data said. "Though, when I ordered you to bed, I did not intend for you to leave so soon. You may sleep in my bed if it will help your anxiety."
Faith smiled softly and closed the distance between them, uncrossing her arms. "May I kiss you, Data?"
"That would be acceptable."
She slid her arms around his neck, her fingers playing idly with his hair before she pulled him down into a kiss. Data placed his hands on her waist, tilting his head to provide the most comfortable angle for her. 
When her lips met his, they were softer than before and slightly dry. She sighed and let her eyes flutter closed. Data mirrored her, calculating the safe amount of pressure he could apply. 
Three seconds later she withdrew, her forehead pressed against his. After another soft peck, arms slipped from his neck and she smiled up at him.
"Still as good as the first time."
"That is nice of you to say but you do not need to sate my ego, as I do not have one."
"Trust me, I wouldn't. I'm not that type of person," Faith said. "I meant what I feel when I kiss you is still as strong as before."
"Ah, I see. May I ask what it is that you feel?"
"Once I can articulate it, I'll let you know," she yawned and slipped her arms around his waist in a light hug. "I should sleep now."
"Yes, you should."
He led her over to the bed, pulling back the blanket so she could lay down. She removed her robe, draping it over the couch. Underneath she wore a nightgown. It was made of rather thin material and Data noted that it hugged her frame in a flattering way. Once she slid into bed, he tucked her in like he had the night before.
"Computer, dim lights."
The room grew dark and Faith shifted to get comfortable. Data recalled several hundred old Earth movies he had downloaded when researching romance and leaned down, placing a kiss on her forehead. 
"Sweet dreams."
Faith smiled, her eyes already drooping. "Good night."
Data left her alone and went back to his painting. He listened to her heartbeat steadily and then her breathing evened out, signaling she was fast asleep. He found he enjoyed her presence even when she was not awake. Data never considered himself lonely by any means, but having another person in the room did offer a comfort he had not expected.
Three hours later, Data's communicator beeped.
"Lieutenant Worf to Commander Data. The sensors picked up a signature. Please come to the Bridge."
"I'm on my way," Data responded.
He knew it was too early to wake Faith, so he decided to leave her be. Before he left, he replicated a rose like the one he had Guinan bring for their date. 
Data set the glass vase on the small nightstand. The blanket had slipped off so he gently draped it back over her. It was then he noticed Spot curled up asleep at the foot of the bed. 
This intrigued him but he did not feel the need to move the feline as she was not disturbing Faith. 
Studying the image of the two for a moment, he allowed himself a soft smile before refocusing his attention and going to meet Worf.
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gnohomaswitness · 4 years
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Party Game  Idea: Linux Administration Tea Time
You and a bunch of other people all connect to a single server or network of linux machines and have specific roles that you have to fill. There’s a sysadmin with sudo access or access to root who has to manage users and assign permissions to files, give sudo access where appropriate,etc. There’s bunch of developers who have to take care of repositories and software patching for the system/network. Devs also have to make scripts as requested by other departments. The sysadmin may choose to delegate user administration to other trusted users (sort of the HR) but must set the permissions just right to make sure they cant compromise the host with their authority. There is also a Technical support / security team who has to monitor logs and status pages for system issues or errors as well as suspicious activity on the system. The tech support team must keep the system 
There will be a cron job that runs on an hour long timer where a random user is selected as being the bad actor who is trying to escalate privileges and pwn the system (may have to be a lot longer than an hour actually, might as well have it be an event that occurs whenever the bad actor is logged out. You’d need all the time you can get and youre more likely to be noticed the more persistent and hasty you act (weird brute forcing, enumeration, attempts to access forbidden files), yeah on second thought, make it whenever the bad actor gets locked out). Sysadmin and security cannot be bad actors. (You could make it Sysadmin only but if security stops monitoring logs or telling the sysadmin about whats going on then it would be a dead giveaway and if they lie about it it just establishes in the meta that the sysadmin is basically doing security’s job thus making security pointless. sysadmin and security must be on the same side at all times.). Nobody can alter the cronjob except the root user, thus if a bad actor gets far enough to edit the cron table then they have already won.
Security has to monitor for things like suspicious behavior through the logs. They can also ask HR to turn up the heat and start making the system more restrictive to the point where all users have to go to tech support for anything outside the established policies. Any user who is locked out must be unlocked by Security or HR or sysadmin unless they team believes the user who got locked out was the bad actor. If the user was the bad actor, a new one is selected. The former bad actor (or locked user) must start up an entirely new account. HR hears from sysadmin what the newly created user will be doing and take that into consideration when determining settings that may differ from the default directives. HR can also decide what goes in the /etc/skel/ directory and if the new user’s home folder should be different.
Users may be locked out if they let their passwords expire and don’t reset it in time or if they get manually locked by an admin for suspicious/malicious activity. Security may request that HR tighten user security or make passwords expire quicker (bad actor may try to phish/keylog/reverse shell other users in order to escalate privilege.). HR or Tech support/security may also implement quotas on users to limit their disk/resource usage. Things like this will pinch down the bad actor to the point where they basically have to do their actual job. The drawback to this is it will lead to lower efficiency and you have a goal to reach. (idk what the goal is yet)
The bad actor may use social engineering, exploit misconfiguration or any other method to gain access to the root account. Perhaps they come up with a BS reason why they need access to something that expands their attack surface. If the sysadmin or security think they can trust the user, then they can give them what they want. The secret is that they should NEVER trust the user. They should carefully consider what the user should have access to and make sure they know what they are giving them access to. There are utilities that can search for misconfigurations. There are no rules regarding what the bad actor is allowed to do. There are always ways to exploit the host and always ways to defend it. No matter how severe the damages caused by the bad actor are, Sysadmin and security let it happen. As long as there is a way to fix it then sysadmin has to do it (backups or raid might be implemented by technical support or sysadmin). sysadmin must go to the physical host if they have to, or they must grant another user with the privileges to do it (if the system is not able to run, someone will have to use a live usb to chroot into the inactive system, the sysadmin better be super sure that the person they send is not the bad actor. (single user mode or live usb will run as root, thus if the bad actor does this then they win))
I’m learning so many amazing things while I do this cert. Advanced User Management, permissions, module loading, access control lists, single sign-on, email, directives, skeleton directories, user quotas, etc. Idk when Im gonna use some of this stuff to practice, I dont have much use for some of the cooler things. Hmm unless I automated the shit out of my network and had users for each script doing just what they have to do and nothing more. But then there’s no bad actor.
I hope...
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ashmeytmblr · 4 years
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First attempt at Fanfic writing
I’d greatly appreciate any constructive criticism or criticism in general and some possible suggestions as to where the story would go next!
Star Wars: The Survivors
Chapter 1: The Encounter
Corellia, 32 BBY. 3 standard months following the Invasion of Naboo.
From afar, the megapolis of Coronet City was a sight to behold. Airspeeders appeared as nothing more than blurs of light, traveling in all directions as if they were a puzzle even the greatest minds could not solve. Hulls of unfinished ships transported upon mobile construction walkers the enormity of which could rival even the greatest skyscrapers of the city. The network of roads by which resources were transported and the alleyways that made up the vast urban scape could only be described as a maze by which only those born into it could navigate. 
Corellia was a planet rich with history. Over the tens of thousands of millennia, the planet had witnessed the rise and fall of the Rakatan Infinite Empire, the Eternal Empire, and the Sith Empire. All of whom conquered Corellia in their ancient eras. Having garnered the influence of these extinct civilizations; along with the mass migration to the core world from all sectors of the galaxy, Corellia became one of the most multicultural planets in the Core Worlds. This all changed when the Corellian Engineering Corporation rose.
Less than half a millennia ago, driven by innovation, a small, independent business grew to rival even the greatest starship manufacturers of the age. It presented revolutionary ship designs that allowed for great customization and modification. A concept that had never before been seen. This appealed to anyone, from the most cunning of smugglers to the highest of aristocrats. Though this success was tremendous for the executives and shareholders of the company, the same could not be said for the rest of the populous. 
The Corellian Engineering Corporation gained a near-complete monopoly over the planet’s economy, causing many competitors to either go bankrupt or to be absorbed into the company. With this financial control over the planet and the constant increase in consumer demand, a majority of the population was forced into hard labor. Many received dirt-poor wages, many were crippled or killed while operating hazardous machinery, but the Corellian Government spared no attention. They were controlled by the Corporation after all. 
Kana Shan reflected upon this history as her awe towards Coronet City faded, replaced by the realization of the hell the city truly was. “Come, Kana, we have landed.” her master softly spoke through his comlink. She tied up her long black hair, though it still went down to her waist, and punctually made her way to the ramp of The Implier, a Consular-Class Cruiser and a model commonly used by the republic for important missions. Meeting the old Thisspisian at the bottom of the ramp. “Admiring the sights?” He inquired, gesturing to the vast skyscrapers. “I was,” she paused, “until this,” she pointed towards the oil-stained slums. “Well, I had a similar reaction upon my first visit to Coronet,” he chuckled. They adorned their grey ponchos and broke into a smooth stride, they had an investigation to complete. 
***
Careful to avoid deadly electrocution, Daran reattached the broken cable and sealed it with great care. He squirmed his way out of the tunnel-like space behind the cockpit of a yet-to-be-completed CR-20 Troop Carrier, meeting his boss, who towered above him. 
Child laborers were a rare sight on Corellia, the CEC had minimal obedience and surveillance towards Republic laws and jurisdictions, but seeing a child as young as four years of age working in shipbuilding was unheard of. Daran C’abbath was a rare exception to this belief. Ever since his parents had been blown up by the faulty reactor of a VCX-100 they were repairing 2 years ago, Daran had inherited their debt and was put to work.
Despite the boy’s youth, he was one of the best electricians of the factory, able to pinpoint precise mechanical and electric flaws and repair them in minutes, using his small size to squeeze into tight spaces to make repairs which stubborn Ugnaughts and Ardennians refused to do. This skill was only honed to great effect when it was realized by his boss and guardian, Uinter. A shrewd and cunning 2.4-meter Besalisk construction manager with decades of experience and an eye for efficiency and profit. He had once been best friends with Daran’s father and had cared for him after his father’s passing, however, that did not stop him from teaching the child everything he knew and employing him in repair and construction. 
“Nice goin’ there Sab,” the hulking Besalisk said as he patted Daran on the back, almost knocking him over, “now, tell me kid, how ‘dya know somethin’ was wrong with ‘ose cables?” He asked, a sense of determination in his booming, rusty voice. “Why d’ya keep askin’ me?” Daran asked, “I keep tellin’ ya’ that I don’t know how to describe it to ya’. I just hear ‘em, when there’s something not right about the electrical noises,'' He said, confusing himself. “Arrrrgh! I’ll get it outta ya’ one day!”, Uinter chuckled, ruffling up Daran’s knotty brown hair with one of his leathery, giant hands. 
The youngster batted his toughened hand away with a grin. “‘Ey, ‘cus I made that amazing repair,” Daran said smugly, “why don’ I get the rest o’ the day off, ‘cus, ya’ know-”. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” Uinter interrupted, “you earn’d it, kid”. “Thanks!” Daran immediately replied, excitedly racing out of the construction zone before Uinter changed his mind. 
As soon as he left the area, he slowed down to a walk. Inspecting the run-down slums and workers around him, he spotted a moving crowd not too far ahead. The clustered crowd was made up of locals and travelers alike. He realized the market was open. “Perfect,” he muttered to himself. The market was one of many in Coronet City, though this one was of no notoriety. Selling a variety of different things from Corellian apples to large corvettes, anyone who could get through the twisting maze of tents and stalls could find what they needed there. Right now, Daran needed only one thing, his stomach rumbled as he entered the packed crowd in search of something to eat.
He weaved his way through the crown, careful not to be stomped by an careless Anx. Realizing he wouldn’t be able to get a good view of the stalls because of his height, he spotted a large durasteel antenna rod jotting out of the ground near the center of the crowd. Once a small clearing in the crowd opened, he ran to the rod and gripped it tightly. He clambered up the pole with great speed, realizing it was not so different from the ones he often had to climb in the factory.
With a full view of the marketplace, he scanned the area and found exactly what he needed. A few stalls ahead was a small stall selling Corellian apples piled neatly in a pyramid tower. He slid down the pole and slipped through the crowd until he was only a few leaps from the stall. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the pyramid of apples blocked the Sullustan store owner’s view of the bottom of the stall.
After waiting a few minutes for a customer to arrive, the Sullustan became distracted by a picky Ithorian, holding an apple in his long fingers pointing to a dark patch on the apple. “Bingo,” Daran muttered under his breath. He snuck up to the stall, crouching behind the stall, where the Sullustan couldn’t see him. Looking up at the pyramid, he noticed an apple had fallen from the pyramid. This was his chance. He reached for the apple, snatching it from the stall with lightning speed. He wasn’t fast enough. A greasy, stained hand was gripped firmly around his right arm. “Where d’ya think yer’ goin’ with that ya’ lil’ wonat,” the barrel-chested Sullustan furiously spat in a gurgly voice, “giv’ it back and I’ll let ya’ keep yer’ arm. Jus’ this once”. Thinking on his feet, Daran scooped a chunk of mud from the ground and hurled it into the Sullustan’s sensitive eyes. The Sullustan growled in pain, releasing Daran from his tight grip to wipe the muck from his eyes. 
Daran sprinted as fast as he could. “Guess you’ll ‘ave to take my arm then!” He yelled back, taunting the store owner. As he ran, he stuffed the apple into the inner pocket of his jacket. Not paying attention to the path in front of him, he tripped over and fell flat on his face. He stood up quickly, brushing the mud from his face, trousers, shirt, and jacket. Turning around, he met the gaze of a surprised Thisspiasian and an equally surprised Human, both wearing matching grey ponchos. Realizing he had tripped over the tail of the old Thispiassian. He was about to say sorry when the Sullustan caught up to him and grabbed his right arm up once again, a vibroblade gripped in his free hand. “I tried bein’ the nice guy t’ya’,” The Sullustan growled, “enjoy the rest o’ya’ stinkin’ life without yer’ right arm!” He bellowed. The Sullustan brought the blade down on his arm. Daran flinched, waiting for the pain. It didn’t come.
Oppo Rancisis gripped the Sullustan’s portly wrist with one of his long, taloned hands. “Now, my good salesman,” he spoke in a formal tone, “is there any justifiable reason to bring great harm to this young soul?” He inquired, stroking his beard. “Well…” the Sullustan began, “he stole the apple from me’ store… uh… the kid needs ta’ learn his less-”. “Perhaps this ordeal could be solved with a more peaceful compromise?” Rancisis interjected, “If I were to pay for the stolen produce, could you put this pursuit to rest?” He inquired once again. “... uh… yeah,” the Sullustan said, baffled. “Very well then,” Rancisis replied. He tossed a credit chip above the Sullustan’s head. The Sullustan sheathed his knife away and fumbled for the singular credit. “Master-”, his apprentice began. He shot her a glare and she quickly silenced. “Will that suffice?” He queried. “Yeah, that'll be jus’ enough,” the Sullustan sneered as he walked back to his stall to tend to the lingering Ithorian. “Are you alright my boy?” Rancisis asked the human child. “Yeah, I’m all good,” the boy replied, “sorry for trippin’ over ya’”. “It’s perfectly fine,” he assured the boy. “It occurs more than you would expect.” He chuckled, whisking his tail. “Come, Kana, we must continue,” he instructed his apprentice, and the two began to move. 
Daran stood still in shock for a moment before slipping through the crowd and out of the marketplace, back into the dusty slum area, a vast part of the city made up of warehouse-like stack houses, often referred to as slats, cobbled together with rusting metal and makeshift ladders. Thinking about the luck of what had just happened, he chewed into the apple, throwing the core behind him. Realizing it was getting dark, he walked through the area with caution before making it to his own slat. He opened the door to the flat, careful not to creak the door and risk waking his slatmates. Like the factory, Daran was by far the youngest in the slat. The second youngest was a 16-year-old Nautolan known as Brim, but even he could pass as an adult, so Daran rarely spoke to him. He quietly climbed into his over-sized bed, falling asleep only a few minutes after shutting his eyes.
“Why did you refer to me as ‘master’ directly in the presence of the locals?” Oppo Rancisis inquired. “I instructed you to refer to me as Rancisis in the presence of locals''. “I’m sorry, master,” Kana replied, a look of embarrassment on her face. “I said it out of habit. I just wonder why you decided to help that boy”. “I saw that the boy created a particularly violent ordeal for himself. Had I left the Sullustan to amputate the Boy’s arm, he would’ve likely bled out or died due to infection. I, nor anyone else, should have stood idly by and allow for such an act to occur,” he explained to her, “besides, I assume neither the Sullustan nor the Boy are in collusion with The Rise. So they will not learn of our investigation yet,” he reassured her.  “I hope that was the case,” Kana nervously replied. “But even after a day of enquiring, we still haven’t found Semt or his group of… terrorists!”. “Calm yourself, Kana,” her master reassured her, “you’re right, we have been inquiring for a day, but only a day. It could possibly be weeks before we uncover the location of their hideout. However, we must not give up. An attempt against Senator Iblis’s life is a serious matter. Had The Rise succeeded in their assassination, the Senate would’ve erupted in anarchy at the news of the death of a Core World senator. I understand your anticipation towards locating these revolutionaries, I shared a similar enthusiasm to you in my youth, but we must be patient,” he explained. “Thank you for giving me a new perspective master,” Kana replied gratefully. The two wished each other a good night, exited the conference room of The Implier, and returned to their personal quarters.
***
The next day was turning out to be a rather uneventful one for Daran. He and an old Ottegan engineer finished wiring up the control panel of a CR90. He left the construction platform, sliding down the pole that connected it to the ground level of the factory, turning around to quickly admire the factory block. A gigantic warehouse structure tens of stories high, filled with thousands of rusted construction platforms surrounding all manner of incomplete ship models produced by the CEC. He walked through the forest of poles connecting the thousands of platforms to the ground, welding sparks flying at random around him, finding Uinter in his office. It was a small enclosed block near the entrance of the factory. “‘Ey, me an’ the Otto jus’ finished wirin’ the CR90,” he said. Looking up from his datapad and sitting up in his giant swiveling chair, Uinter smiled. “Well that def’nitely didn’ take ya’ long, did it!” he said, impressed with his speed, “well, lucky for ya’, there’s some boys who need a lil’ help up back. They’re sayin’ somethin’s gone wrong with the cablin’ of a YT-1300. Go and giv’ em’ a hand why don’t ya’,” he told Daran. “Sure thing,” Daran replied. He left the small block and approached the maze of poles. As he was about to slip through it, he noticed something strange out of the corner of his eye. Turning around, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Entering Uinter’s office was the same Thisspiasian and Human he saw yesterday in the marketplace.
“Rancisis, are you sure this construction manager is going to know anything?” Kana asked. “It is a possibility that he may not know anything. However, we must inquire to the greatest extent of our abilities. Remember, these businessmen are not above selling information,” her master told her. The two entered the manager’s office. From the information they were provided by locals, he was a Besalisk and a giant for his species known as Uinter who had connections to almost everyone in Coronet, Kana felt as though it was a little too good to be true and folded her arms in discomfort. “Greetings manager, my name is Quis Sapeins and this is my associate, Lucet,” Rancisis gestured to her, “we are representatives of the Galactic Republic seeking intel regarding a possible purchase of this particular facility”. “Heh, ya’ almost had me there,” the Besalisk chuckled, “too bad yer’ apprentice ‘ere can’t ‘elp but flash her lightsaber for everyone to see”, he pointed directly at her lightsaber. Startled, Kana quickly dropped her arms to her sides, covering her lightsaber. “Why’re ya’ really ‘ere, Jedi,” he smirked. “Very well,” Rancisis began, “my apprentice and I are here on an investigation into the location of The Rise and their leader, Semt. If you can provide any information regarding their whereabouts, the Republic will pay you a great sum in return,” the Thisspiasian elucidated. “The Rise, ‘ey. Well, I ‘ave a lil’ info about-”. “Master, I sense someone is watching us,” Kana interrupted, turning to see a cloaked figure from afar dropping a pair of macrobinoculars and running from their position atop a complex of slums. Without saying a word the two exited the office and gave chase to the cloaked figure.
Daran saw the Thisspiasian and the Human bolt out of Uinter’s office. He was gripped by a sudden urge to follow them. No. I shouldn’t, he thought to himself. But before he knew it, he was already following them. Barely keeping up with the two, he had no idea why he was chasing after them. But he felt almost forced to. He couldn’t describe it, but it was like he sensed something from them. But what?
The cloaked figure was incredibly acrobatic. Employing the use of a range of front and backflips in an attempt to distract the two Jedi. Oppo Rancisis saw past them. Based on the stamina of cloaked figure, the Jedi-like jumps it was performing, and a distinct lack of a great presence in the force, Rancisis quickly deduced that the figure was a Terrelian Jango Jumper. And a nimble one. He just had to wait for the right moment. Gesturing to Kana to slow, he saw the opportunity. Poised in his taloned hand, he threw a small flashing device with such precision it landed and attached itself to the end of the Jango Jumper’s cloak. He slowed alongside his apprentice. “Why are we slowing?” She demanded. “Because, Kana, the Figure will only lead us away from their hideout,” he explained. “What I just attached to the Figure’s cloak was a tracking device. It will think we’re no longer chasing it and return to it’s hideout. Then, we will be able to confront The Rise and bring it and Semt to justice”. “I should have assumed that,” Kana said, embarrassed. “Nonsense my young padawan, you’re only 21. You still have much to learn. I know one day you will become wiser than I. You may even reach 174 if you’re lucky,” he reassured her. “Thank you, Rancisis,” she gratefully smiled. Rancisis drew a small screen from one of the gadgets affixed to his belt and turned it on, greeted with a visual of the city and a small red dot indicating the location of the tracker. “There,” Kana noticed the dot changing direction, “now we simply follow them at a distance”. “Precisely,” Rancisis commended her, “you learn quickly”. The two followed the red dot, maintaining a distance.
Daran was almost exhausted. He was about to give up when to his luck, the two began to slow. Relieved, but tired, he halted to quickly catch his breath before moving once again as to not lose sight of the Thisspiasian and the Human. Realizing the two were headed for an alleyway, he took extra care to stay quiet so they wouldn’t notice him and followed them through the narrow path. 
The flashing dot halted, barely faltering from a block on the map. “It appears as though the figure may have arrived back at their hideout”, Rancisis observed. “We should move quickly,” Kana said. “They may be wary of our approach and preparing to ambush us”. “Very good, my young apprentice,” Rancisis replied. The two picked up pace, winding through the labyrinth of narrow alleyways, passing many individuals of all manner of species until they were directly in front of the block the dot indicated on the map. From what Kana could see, it was a small, beige warehouse; very out of the way, very bland. Perfect for a hideout. Kana turned to her master to see him place one of his large, taloned hands on the corrugated metal entrance to the warehouse. “It seems as though this entryway is designed to be misleading,” Rancisis stated. “Though in appearance, it may seem to be nothing more than a standard warehouse entry. It is, in actuality, a reinforced, durasteel door”. “I think we’ve found our hideout,” Kana smiled. “It appears so,” he replied. “Now, Kana, stand back”. She took a few steps back, realizing he was about to make use of a force technique known as shatterpoint, a rare Force ability which called upon the Force to seek out a weak point and then apply a small amount of Force pressure to collapse the recipient. It could be applied both to find a flaw within a structure or an opponent, though the latter was considerably harder to pull off as it required great concentration. Under the tutelage of the Jedi Council member, Kana had yet to fully master the practice, however, she kept training up as she knew she possessed great potential within the Force. Within a few seconds, her master successfully located a weak point within the door and it shattered like glass. The two warily entered the pitch-black room, their footsteps reverberating from the walls. The darkness didn’t fool either of them. Sensing ten individuals, blazing lights suddenly illuminated the hollow interior. At the opposing end of the warehouse, an elevated throne made of all manner of scraps of metal welded together and crudely painted black. Standing aside from the throne at both sides were nine individuals. One Ishi Tib, three Humans, four Quarren, and the Terrelian Jango Jumper in no particular order. Each of them sporting an electrostave and dark cloaks. The tenth individual, sitting atop the throne, was an Iktotchi, Semt, staring at the two with unevenly dilated pupils, partially shaking. “Welcome, my new disciples,” he said audaciously, “I wondered if you would arrive”. “Semt, what has become of you? You were once a great Jedi Knight who showed promise to become a Jedi Master,” Rancisis interjected. “I’m glad you asked, Master Rancisis,” Semt smiled eerily, “you see, not long ago I held the same ignorant values you, your apprentice, and many other Jedi held. I believed them without question, yes. But then, one fateful night, I saw it, a vision! A glimpse into the future. Oh my, what I saw,” he suddenly burst into laughter before striking himself in the temple, “the Republic, the Jedi are done for! The Order, the Temple will burn. Once more the Sith will rule the galaxy,” his breathing became exasperated, “and I will rule with them. I will prove myself. The Rise will prove itself. WE REFUSE TO DIE WITH A DOGMATIC ORGANISATION OF IGNORANT FOOLS WHO REFUSE TO SEE ONE STEP AHEAD OF THEM,” he suddenly snapped. “But why attempt to murder a senator who has no relation to the Jedi?” Kana asked. “Oh, that.” Semt began. “Well you see, that action, I assure you, will have me noticed by him, the emperor yet to rise. He will gladly accept me into his order for my action of dedication to his yet-to-rise regime. So I had one of my most loyal disciples destroy the ship, bravely sacrificing himself in the process. But it was a decoy. A DECOY!” He slammed his fist against the arm of the throne, denting the metal. “I knew the Senate would send their little Jedi on a little errand to find me. As soon as I heard rumors of an elderly Thisspiasian and a human with egregiously long hair questioning locals, I knew it must have been you two. My faithful scout, Lika, confirmed that”. He paused. “Now, my Jedi, I give you both the chance. Join me, together we shall watch as the Jedi and the Republic fall, replaced by a regime which will accept us with open arms as their most elite, devoted soldiers of the Dark Side of the Force”. He reached out a twitching hand. “Visions can be deceiving,” Rancisis countered. “They only provide a subtle glimpse into the future, even for an Iktotchi with great precognition skills. What you say may not seem as it is. To turn to acts of treachery, to turn to the Dark Side of the Force is a true tragedy. Unfortunately, I will have to stop you here. I can assure you will be trialed fairly in a-”. “FOOL! Do you not see? I SEE WHAT IS TO COME! YOU AND YOUR BRAINWASHED LITTLE PADAWAN WILL DIE WITH THE DOGMA OF THE JEDI! MY DISCIPLES, DESTROY THEM BOTH,” he screamed furiously before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.  
Having lost sight of the Thisspiasian and the Human, Daran was aimlessly wandering the maze of the alleyway. Looking and listening for any possible signs of the paths they went down, he anxiously turned from path to path, hoping to find something, anything. Realizing the panic he was working himself into, he stopped in the middle of the path. Closing his eyes and slowing his breathing, he felt something, the same feeling which compelled him to follow the two in the first place. Giving in to the feeling, he began walking again, only this time with purpose, almost as if he knew where to go. Passing by the tan buildings and hanging rags either side of him, he turned down the final path, seeing a shattered door and hearing maddening laughter. Not allowing himself to give in to the fear swelling in the back of his mind, he approached the warehouse. Carefully peering into the entrance, he was shocked by what he saw.
Four of the disciples approached Kana while five approached her master, their electrostaves poised and ready to strike. Removing his poncho to reveal his dark brown Jedi robe and his additional two arms which Thisspiasians only revealed publicly in combat. He ignited his green-bladed lightsaber, deflecting every clumsy strike the disciples swung at him before resting himself on the latter half of his serpentine tail to tower above them. Kana followed suit, unveiling a lighter, tan Jedi robe. Taking the long hilt affixed to her belt, she ignited her own lightsaber, revealing two short blades that burned a radiant orange. An extremely rare colour which reflected her reluctance to draw upon the weapon, only using it in self-defense. She reflexively twirled the weapon using her wrist, deflecting every strike except one which grazed her side, mildly burning her. Giving a small grunt, she and her master both called upon the Force, launching the nine disciples across the warehouse, each one colliding with the wall behind Semt’s throne, all of them unconscious. “No… No. NO! NO! NO!” Semt screamed. “USELESS FOOLS, ALL OF THEM.” He paused. “You think you have stopped me, Jedi?” he asked rhetorically. “I will return again, you’ll see!” He launched himself from his throne, making a beeline towards the exposed exit. However, he saw a small figure standing in the way. He bared his chipped teeth, igniting his blue-bladed lightsaber, poised to strike it down.
Mesmerized by what he just saw take place, but suddenly paralyzed by fear as the mad Iktotchi advanced towards him. “MOVE, BOY!” The Iktotchi screamed as he raised his lightsaber to strike Daran down. In an act of desperation, Daran rose his arms in front of him. He suddenly felt a surge of power, like the one that compelled him, only stronger. It felt like it rippled through his arms as it left his hands. He opened his eyes, seeing the Iktotchi sprawled on the ground ten meters into the warehouse, groaning. What did I do? Daran thought. “D-did I do that?” He asked himself. The Thisspiasian looked from the Iktotchi to Daran. “Yes, you did my boy.” He told Daran. “The Force is strong with you”. “Wha- th-the Force,” he stuttered. Daran had heard stories about the Jedi. Uinter had told him that they were a group of people, all different species, who wielded strange sword-like weapons called lightsabers and could move things by waving their hands using a power known as the Force. Did he have that power? The Human approached him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. She had a kind and smiling face and appeared to be a Kuati human. “What is your name?” she asked, her voice soothing his fear. “Um… my name is Daran,” he mumbled, “wh-what about yours?”. “My name is Kana Shan, I’m a Jedi Padawan,” she said, showing her braid, the only part of her long, dark brown hair that wasn’t tied back, “and this is my Master, Oppo Rancisis,” she gestured to the Thisspiasian who gave a welcoming nod. “I remember meeting you two yesterday,” Daran blurted out. “I wanna thank ya’ again, for saving me”. “You’re very welcome my boy,” Rancisis smiled. Suddenly, the Iktotchi sprung from the ground, igniting his lightsaber to strike the Thisspiasian. The Jedi Master reacted almost instantly, drawing his own saber to defend the frantic swings of the Iktotchi. Seeing an opening, he slashed the Iktotchi’s lightsaber in half, destroying it before landing a blow between his cranial horns using the force of his palm, knocking the Iktotchi out. The demonstration of power left Daran speechless. “Captain, Kana and I have successfully apprehended Semt and The Rise.” He spoke into his comlink, solemnity in his tone. “I’m sending you my location now,” he said, pressing a small button on a device affixed to his belt, “alert the Chancellor and have a collection team sent here to detain them. I apologize for that interruption. Now, my boy, could you please tell us how old you are,” he said in a calmer tone. “Four… I think,” Daran replied, slightly unsure. The Jedi Master stroked his beard, deep in thought. 
Kana could see from his contemplative expression that he was weighing up bringing Daran to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. She knew the council was marginally opposed towards the induction of younglings beyond infancy into the Order. However, her master was notably more conservative in the following of the Jedi ways when compared to the fellow Jedi who made up the Jedi High Council and advocated for younglings to be allowed into the order. “Master, I think we should bring him to the Jedi Temple,” she suggested. “Was I not discovered by Master Giiett on Kuat when I was only three years old? What about Master Mundi? He was inducted into the Jedi Order when he was four, just like Daran here”. “I understand your point of view Kana,” he replied. “However, what concerns me is that of the recent induction of Skywalker, the prophecised Chosen One, at the age of nine. I fear the council may not be willing to grant another exception,” he explained. “But master, he is still very young and you saw the power he possesses. It would be such a waste of potential to simply neglect his power and leave him untrained,” Kana argued back. “Think of all the good he could do for the galaxy if he were allowed to be trained, what he could accomplish,” she said persuasively. “And he’s still only four, so he’s only three years out of infancy. I think it’s worth a chance”. Rancisis gave her an honoured smile. “I have taught you well, my padawan. You may not see it, but you are a very wise woman, Kana. You will go on to become a great Jedi Knight someday,” he appraised her. “Very well, now tell me Daran, is there anyone who watches over you,” he asked the boy. “Umm… yes,” Daran nervously replied. “His name is Uinter and he was the guy you two were talking to before you two ran out of his office”. “I see,” Rancisis replied. “We will wait here until the Republic forces arrive, then we shall consult your guardian”.
***
After the Republic forces had arrived and arrested Semt and his disciples, Daran and the two Jedi made their way back to Uinter’s office. During their small walk, Kana told Daran of all the things the Jedi stood for and the adventures she and her master had been through together. These tales of adventure filled Daran’s head with fantasies of the future, thinking of all the amazing places he would go to in the Galaxy and the people he would meet. These thoughts were suddenly ousted from his head as he saw an unimpressed Uinter standing at the wide entrance of the factory, a bitter look plastered across his face. “Daran! Where’n the blazes didya’ go?! And why’re ya’ with ‘em?” the Besalisk bellowed. “Ya’ better have a good excuse for this one, ya’ hear me, or there ain’t gonna be no pay for a week”. 
“Please allow me to provide clarity to the ordeal at hand,” Rancisis stepped in. “This boy, Daran, has shown great potential within the Force, it is very strong with him. I believe the best future for him would be for him to be trained within the Jedi arts to help him unravel his true potential and become a force for light within the Galaxy”. “Wha? So you’re tellin’ me Daran here has the Force?” Uinter asked rhetorically. “Ha! So that’s why he always knows when there’s somethin’ wrong with the circuits,” he mumbled. “Well, the whole Jedi thing does sound nice an’ all, but i’m afraid i gotta tell ya’ that Daran’s stayin’ ‘ere on Corellia, he’s already a “force for light” or whatever, he’s saved a tonne o’ my guys with his skill and i don’t wanna lose that”. 
The idea of staying on Corellia for the rest of his life was ringing through Daran’s head, would he ever gain another opportunity like this? A chance to leave behind the life of the slums and finally see the Galaxy he had only ever been told of in stories and legends. He didn’t think so. “Uinter!” Daran yelled, immediately grabbing his attention. “I don’t wanna live in this place for the rest of my days. I wanna see the stars, I wanna become a Jedi and go on adventures around the Galaxy. I wanna meet and help people everywhere. Think of Osbourne and Marnie, once my ma and pa and your friends. Do ya’ think this is what they want for me? To live the rest of my life in the place they both died? I know they wouldn’t have and I know deep down you don’t either. So please, let me go. This is the only chance I’ll ever get,” tears were flowing down his face. Uinter walked up to Daran and crouched on one knee. “Sab, your ma and pa would be very proud o’ ya’.” the Besalisk said softly, a tear falling from his cheek. “I’ll let ya’ go, but on one condition, ya’ visit me one day,” he gave a small chuckle. “Thank you,” Daran replied. The two embraced, knowing it was the last time they would see each other for a long time. “Come, Daran,” Rancisis interjected, “it is time for your journey to begin”. Daran left the embrace of Winter, giving him one last nod, knowing he would visit him one day.
As Daran was brought aboard The Implier, he couldn’t help but marvel at the interior of the vessel. So bright unstained, it was as if it had never been set foot in. Kana gave him a friendly gesture to follow her and led him to a small room near the command bridge. It didn’t take long for Daran to realise it must be Kana’s quarters, though it was unlike any other he had seen. The room was just as unstained as the corridor, though the bed was so well made it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume no one had slept in it before. The room had a distinct sweet aroma to it, and a real table, a rare luxury in the slums one would be lucky to acquire without stealing it. Daran compared the room to his own slat, so dull, stained, and rancid, with unkempt beds, it was as if this very room was the direct opposite to the slats.
“Here, have a seat,” Kana smiled as she guided him to a small stool while she seated herself opposite to him. “Now, I know this is probably a huge change in scenery for someone like you”. “Umm… yes,” Daran replied nervously as he forced a small smile. “Don’t worry, I felt the exact same way when I was brought aboard a vessel like this,” she reassured him. A minute of awkward silence passed. “Would you like something to drink?” Kana offered, placing two cups and a cylindrical bottle on the table. “Yes please,” Daran replied with more confidence. She delicately poured each of them a cup. Daran starred in amazement at the liquid within. It was a pastel pink colour with small bubbles popping all over the surface of the water. “Have a sip,” Kana encouraged him, taking a sip from her own cup. Cautiously raising the cup to his mouth, he eyed the strange liquid one last time before taking a small swig. His eyes widened as he stared in awe at the cup. Never before had he tasted such a sweet flavour. “I’m going to guess you like it,” Kana chuckled. Daran swiftly nodded as he downed the rest of the liquid. “Hey, you have different coloured eyes,” she pointed out. “That’s rare for Humans”. “‘Never really thought much of ‘em,” Daran replied. “They’re just eyes ya’ know”. “It does make you look unique though. They’re special in their own way,” she replied. “I guess so,” he admitted. The ship started vibrating with the smooth sound of the engines as it filled the cruiser. Adrenaline flew through him as the ship pressurized itself, accelerating away from the landing pad until it was but a speck in the infinitely large scene of Coronet City. His journey had begun.
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