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#now HE has to function as a buffer for Dust

themindmovement · 1 year

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“I suppose it comes down to a rather awesome awareness of mortality. Our ability, unlike the other animals, to conceptualize our own end creates tremendous psychic strains within us; whether we like to admit it or not, in each man’s chest a tiny ferret of fear at this ultimate knowledge gnaws away at his ego and his sense of purpose. We’re fortunate, in a way, that our body, and the fulfillment of its needs and functions, plays such an imperative role in our lives; this physical shell creates a buffer between us and the mind-paralyzing realization that only a few years of existence separate birth from death. If man really sat back and thought about his impending termination, and his terrifying insignificance and aloneness in the cosmos, he would surely go mad, or succumb to a numbing sense of futility. Why, he might ask himself, should he bother to write a great symphony, or strive to make a living, or even to love another, when he is no more than a momentary microbe on a dust mote whirling through the unimaginable immensity of space?

Those of us who are forced by their own sensibilities to view their lives in this perspective — who recognize that there is no purpose they can comprehend and that amidst a countless myriad of stars their existence goes unknown and unchronicled — can fall prey all too easily to the ultimate anomie….But even for those who lack the sensitivity to more than vaguely comprehend their transience and their triviality, this inchoate awareness robs life of meaning and purpose; it’s why ‘the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation,’ why so many of us find our lives as absent of meaning as our deaths.

The world’s religions, for all their parochialism, did supply a kind of consolation for this great ache; but as clergymen now pronounce the death of God and, to quote Arnold again, ‘the sea of faith’ recedes around the world with a ‘melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,’ man has no crutch left on which to lean—and no hope, however irrational, to give purpose to his existence. This shattering recognition of our mortality is at the root of far more mental illness than I suspect even psychiatrists are aware.

But if life is so purposeless, is it worth living?

The very meaninglessness of life forces man to create his own meaning. Children, of course, begin life with an untarnished sense of wonder, a capacity to experience total joy at something as simple as the greenness of a leaf; but as they grow older, the awareness of death and decay begins to impinge on their consciousness and subtly erode their joie de vivre, their idealism — and their assumption of immortality. As a child matures, he sees death and pain everywhere about him, and begins to lose faith in the ultimate goodness of man. But, if he’s reasonably strong — and lucky — he can emerge from this twilight of the soul into a rebirth of life’s elan. Both because of and in spite of his awareness of the meaninglessness of life, he can forge a fresh sense of purpose and affirmation. He may not recapture the same pure sense of wonder he was born with, but he can shape something far more enduring and sustaining. The most terrifying fact about the universe is not that it is hostile but that it is indifferent; but if we can come to terms with this indifference and accept the challenges of life within the boundaries of death — however mutable man may be able to make them — our existence as a species can have genuine meaning and fulfillment. However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.”

— Stanley Kubrick

#stanley kubrick #life #meaninglessness

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victorian-robot · 18 days

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I’ve now got a theory that I’m rather enjoying: Valentino is gonna get beaten at his own game by another overlord.

Tragically, I don’t necessarily mean this in an epic downfall way but in a more mild capacity it would fit a pattern. So far both the other Vee’s have had goals foiled by other overlords, specifically ones who are somehow antithetical to them beating them in their speciality.

First we had Vox, who runs the Vee’s very modern technology but is noted for not being as in control as he seems, being beaten by Alastor, a demon using antiquated technology who is more dangerous than he generally appears, when Vox overloaded his own system. When his screens buffered out and took the city power with them, the only thing left running were Alastor’s long standing radios, allowing him to announce his return with everyone listening since his tech was the only thing standing when Vox’s failed. Alastor even turns Vox’s own words against him “I’m gonna make you wish that you’d/I’d stayed gone” to really drive it all home.

youtube

Then we had Velvette, who has been implied to be running the intelligence with both trend awareness and internal crisis aversion being prominent roles of hers in other scenes. During her encounter with the other overlords, she argues they should go in based on an angel being killed but is shut down by Zestial, an extremely old fashioned overlord, who points out that they need more information to act safely. Velvette, the main intelligence of the Vee’s, and a quick acting character, is shut down by a much more patient character who encourages acting slowly because “we can’t act without more intelligence”. She also gets more thoroughly shut down by Carmilla as a result of her disrespect toward Zestial, and functionally lost a popularity contest as a result of the overlords respecting Zestial more than her overall… as a social media star.

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At this point my best bet is that Husk is gonna best Valentino somehow since he’s established some investment in Angel Dust that would motivate action against Valentino, and he was the gambling overlord (relevant since casinos have a history of putting on some live shows that could be seen as a precursor to Valentino’s industry). Though I’m not 100% on that since Husk is a former overlord as opposed to the current overlords that bested the other Vee’s.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin velvette #hazbin valentino #hazbin husk #theory #fan theory

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sheepeunseo · 6 months

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Playboy: Thanks to those special effects, 2001 is undoubtedly the most graphic depiction of space flight in the history of films — and yet you have admitted that you yourself refuse to fly, even in a commercial jet liner. Why?

Kubrick: I suppose it comes down to a rather awesome awareness of mortality. Our ability, unlike the other animals, to conceptualize our own end creates tremendous psychic strains within us; whether we like to admit it or not, in each man’s chest a tiny ferret of fear at this ultimate knowledge gnaws away at his ego and his sense of purpose. We’re fortunate, in a way, that our body, and the fulfillment of its needs and functions, plays such an imperative role in our lives; this physical shell creates a buffer between us and the mind-paralyzing realization that only a few years of existence separate birth from death. If man really sat back and thought about his impending termination, and his terrifying insignificance and aloneness in the cosmos, he would surely go mad, or succumb to a numbing sense of futility. Why, he might ask himself, should he bother to write a great symphony, or strive to make a living, or even to love another, when he is no more than a momentary microbe on a dust mote whirling through the unimaginable immensity of space?

Playboy: If life is so purposeless, do you feel it’s worth living?

Kubrick: The very meaninglessness of life forces man to create his own meaning. Children, of course, begin life with an untarnished sense of wonder, a capacity to experience total joy at something as simple as the greenness of a leaf; but as they grow older, the awareness of death and decay begins to impinge on their consciousness and subtly erode their joie de vivre, their idealism — and their assumption of immortality. As a child matures, he sees death and pain everywhere about him, and begins to lose faith in the ultimate goodness of man. But, if he’s reasonably strong — and lucky — he can emerge from this twilight of the soul into a rebirth of life’s elan. Both because of and in spite of his awareness of the meaninglessness of life, he can forge a fresh sense of purpose and affirmation. He may not recapture the same pure sense of wonder he was born with, but he can shape something far more enduring and sustaining. The most terrifying fact about the universe is not that it is hostile but that it is indifferent; but if we can come to terms with this indifference and accept the challenges of life within the boundaries of death — however mutable man may be able to make them — our existence as a species can have genuine meaning and fulfillment. However vast the darkness, we must supply our own light.

#stanly kubrick

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theres-no-protocol-for-this · 3 years

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Humans Adopt a Combat SecUnit

A random one-shot about a horrible moment during a hypothetical hostile takeover. A one-shot with no real ending. Angst. You’ve been warned.

Now on AO3 for the same reason I put anything there, because finding it here is rocket surgery.

(Cass)

The attack came out of nowhere.

One minute, Kris and I had been sitting at a cafe and discussing the logistics of our next cargo run and the next, several dozen armed men stormed the office building across the street.

Mayhem erupted around us. Cafe patrols tried to flee only to meet the business end of large guns. Several constructs in heavy armor stomped past us and up the building steps. A grenade destroyed the front entrance entire, flinging dust and smoke into the air. The air circulation systems struggled to keep up. It was getting harder to breathe with each passing moment.

Suddenly, a group of soldiers rushed out of the building, through smoke and frames and began indiscriminately shooting at attackers and civilians alike. Kris yanked me by the arm to hide under our table, but it proved to be minimal cover against the hail of bullets flying overhead.

What ended up saving both our lives was a SecUnit, one of the combat-ready models. It took a defensive position between us and the battle, and remained there until the shooting had largely ceased. At the time, I didn’t know why it had chosen that course of action because it was so damn unexpected.

Security Units sometimes protect people — when they’re contracted to do so — but the Combat Units are intended for only one thing: taking down enemies. This one stood in front of us and took more damage than was reasonable. By the time the worst had passed, the bot-human hybrid looked worse for the wear. Its armor was dented in a dozen places, and it was bleeding from several projectile wounds. It had also gotten burned in several areas with short-range energy blasts.

“We have to go,” Kris practically yelled in my ear over all the noise. “This is insane. Hostile takeovers shouldn’t target civilian places.”

I nodded and tried not to think about the wanton death and destruction happening fifteen feet away. “What about the Unit?”

My companion gave me a searching look. “I don’t know that we can do anything. It probably has orders.”

“SecUnit,” I called out to the tall construct. It wore armor from head to toe, but enough of it was destroyed that I could see metal and light-brown skin underneath.

It turned in our direction. Its helmet was still functional but the opaque faceplate had shattered at some point. Blue-green eyes regarded us from a blank, neutral face that betrayed none of the pain the construct had be feeling.

“Come with us,” I said as I crawled out from under the table and looked around.

“What?” Kris looked horrified.

I ignored my co-pilot for a moment. “SecUnit, your armor is destroyed. You should remove it before it causes you damage.”

The horror of the situation was seeping in by then, panic replacing the initial numbness. Kris had been in war zones before, had even participated in several takeovers, before making hauling his current profession. I imagined he knew what he was doing.

All I knew is that we needed to leave and it was imperative we take the person who just saved our lives with us. The SecUnit pulled off its armor — some of which had all kinds of razor sharp edges curtesy of all the shooting — and underneath it looked a lot more like a human being than I’d anticipated.

Not that I had much experience in this area; I’d never seen a construct up close before.

Kris tugged at my arm and started moving along the edge of the coffee shop toward an alley. I resisted until the SecUnit followed a moment later.

Somehow, all three of us managed to make it to the mouth of the alleyway without further injuries. I was coughing up a lung because of all the smoke — the air scrubbers could handle a lot, but this was ridiculous. Kris knew what to do, though, I trusted him with my life.

(Combat SecUnit)

I had failed at achieving my mission objectives, and I could no longer connect to my handler.

The two events had not been simultaneous, but the quick succession was enough to feel concerning. My organic neural tissue was sending up error codes I couldn't interpret.

I chose my position primarily to get a better vantage point on the small-scale skirmish occurring in front of the ShoreCross office building. Infiltrating the facility was my primary objective, but it no longer appeared to be feasible, much less applicable.

When the shooting began, I considered moving. Even without a handler to direct me, I have enough self-preservation instincts to not stand in direct line of fire. But there were two unaffiliated humans behind me, and if I moved, they would die.

My handler should've made the judgment call about staying or leaving. Those kinds of choices were outside my permissible range of decisions, but she was not responding. My communication device was otherwise functional, and the feed remained stable in the area despite the commotion. Her presence was completely absent in its normal places inside my head, and it did not appear to be a malfunction on my part.

When the shooting briefly paused, the two humans made a smart but risky decision to evacuate. My own assessment supported this course of action. I had taken more damage than advisable, and while none of it was catastrophic, I would need access to a repair cubicle for most of the injuries.

So, the human's instruction to remove my destroyed armor came as a complete surprise. Her further request that I come with them, even more so. My governor didn't much care who gave the orders so long as it was a direct request. It was completely up to my handler to override irrelevant commands and choose who to ignore.

When the humans moved, I followed them after discarding what little remained of my armor. I had a large projectile weapon, which I also left behind because I had no way of storing it and moving with it was cumbersome. My in-built weapons would suffice should I find myself in a firefight, and if that happened, I was unlikely to survive the experience.

The male human (feed name: Kristos) led the way. He paused when we reached a small alleyway and peeked inside. It was empty. I knew as much because I had hacked the local feed before arrival, a necessary measure to ensure I wouldn't be caught or surprised.

"Are you all right?" the female human (feed name: Cass) asked me.

I nodded. As best as I understood the question, I was not experiencing any significant malfunctions and my pain sensors were down in the 50% range, so I was not in any significant pain, either.

"Good," she said, and then reached out and took my hand. "Stay close. We'll cut through here and then head straight to the transit ring. The safest place we can be right now is on a ship. Ours, specifically."

I obeyed the command and followed them closely, but my threat assessment did not like this course of action. The humans would indeed be safer on their ship. Weapons could not be discharged anywhere on the transit ring. However, without my handler, my own mental state would deteriorate rapidly. I should be nowhere near any humans when this occurred.

Unfortunately, communicating this to the humans was complicated. There are very few things I'm permitted to say. I was willing to risk governor punishment but couldn't come up with a short enough explanation that I could provide it before being zapped.

This unit is not constructed to function independently of a human handler, I told them. That was a response in my buffer, usually reserved for when someone attempted to a request that required too many decision points.

Cass turned to look at me, her expression grim. "Is your handler somewhere close? Are you able to return to them?"

Unknown, I answered. It was not the most polite response, and my governor quickly reminded me of the error, but it was almost more than I could manage.

Kris spoke several curses in three distinct languages under his breath in quick succession. "That's why you were standing there, wasn't it? Fucking hell. This complicates things. Just keep following us for now, and we'll figure something out."

Turning to his companion, he added, "It's a Combat model. Its mental state is dependent on the constant tweaking and monitoring of its human handler. Without a handler, it's going to go crazy."

"What?" Cass glanced at me but her focus was on Kris. "Why the fuck would someone do that?"

"Because when you make a dangerous tool, you put in a lot of safeguards to keep it from slipping its leash." The human stopped just long enough to make sure our path was clear, then continued moving. "There's a reason most polities don't permit the use or creation of constructs."

The horrified expression on Cass' face surprised me. Most humans I had met feared constructs, and her behavior didn't line up with my expectations.

"Almost there," the woman told me as we exited the station mall and headed down to the embarkation zone. "Just a little longer."

---

(Combat SecUnit)

The humans walked with me through the embarkation zone as though it was a perfectly normal course of action. I knew from experience that SecUnits were not permitted in the human-occupied areas of most stations, but I suspected neither Cass nor Kris knew this. A weapons scanner drone stopped us near their ship's loading dock, but Kris explained that I was their cargo, and a human supervisor overrode the panicky drone.

Once inside the ship, both humans visibly relaxed.

Cass led the way to the control room of the ship and guided me toward an empty seat. I stood next to it until she gave me a direct order to sit down. Meanwhile, Kris directed one of the local news channels from the feed to a large display surface mounted to one of the walls of the bridge. Coverage of the 'unprovoked' attack on ShoreCross played in the background while the humans coordinated their next step in preparation for departure.

I continued to sit while my internal world slowly crumbled. When it became hard to name the humans or distinguish my current position, I said, It may be prudent to secure this unit before it malfunctions further. I had never used this buffer message before, but it was the closest to what I wanted to communicate. Emotional and mental cohesion, both of which were necessary to successfully complete mission, frayed around the edges.

Kris glanced up at me from where he was leaning over a control panel and reading information off to the local traffic controller. "Best to do what it says for now."

"I've almost got this figured out," Cass complained. "Shit, I think I'm the only one with enough augments of the right type to even attempt this. I know it's not your fault, SecUnit, but your humans really did a number on you."

She got up from where she'd been seated on the floor, connected directly into the mechanical brain of the hauler, and came over to me. "Let's get you comfortable, all right?"

"It might fight you if it thinks its cornered and it can't think straight," the co-pilot warned.

I looked up at the human. She wore a deep frown on her soft, dark face as she inputted commands into the controls of the smart chair where I was currently sitting. It readjusted to fit my longer frame, suggesting that normally Kris sat here. Cass maneuvered me into position, so I leaning back with my feet slightly off the floor and situated comfortably in the seat's foot rests.

Once she had me where she wanted me, the chair did the rest automatically. Thick, durable straps wrapped around my arms, torso, and legs effectively restraining me. According to the specifications available in the feed, the system was intended to keep a human from falling out of the piloting chair during high-impact maneuvers. It was more than strong enough to keep me from hurting myself or the humans.

Despite knowing better, I fought against the restraints. I understood that doing so would cause me further injury and that they existed to keep my humans — I thought of these humans as mine — safe. But there was a disconnect between reality and my fractured mind that I couldn't seem to bridge.

Cass put her hand on my chest and started talking in a soft, quiet voice. By this point, I had trouble understanding what she was saying, but the hand helped. As did the warm blanket she draped over me and the pillow under my head. Consciousness came and went.

#murderbot #fanfiction #original character #combat secunit #angst

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fieryfantasybooklover · 4 years

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Creeping Corruption - Chapter 4 - The Search and The Rescue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

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@lily-chen-deserves-better @girlwhohatesstuff @zafirafox4636 @blackthorn-necromancy @insane---chaos @brotherlipsmackariahs @friendlyneighbourhoodreader @idontgetit-whydoihavetosaymyname @themostawesomehuman @rainbow-sheepofthefamily @simon-lewis-is-a-skinny-legend @daisyherxndale @shadowhunterillyriandemigod @imherongraystairstrash

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Tessa and Jem hurtled through the portal, surrounded by roaring noise and buffering winds. Tessa had long since lost hold of the alien, throwing both at the mercy of interdimensional travel. Jem was doing his best to hold on to Tessa, and vice versa. And at first, they were successful. They managed to keep their grip on the other secure, willing their love, strength, and steely determination, to be enough to survive this particular storm. After several minutes of this, everything around the pair went eerily quiet. Everything seemed to still, and even the otherworldly winds ceased. Tessa and Jem barely had time to meet eyes before the world around them shifted and exploded with a sonic boom. Tessa and Jem were ripped apart, without even a chance to scream.

Tessa was thrown the opposite direction as Jem, hurtling through this alien gap between worlds. Twisting around, she spotted the hole seconds before she shot through it. All of a sudden, the world around her was filled with reds and browns, with a horizon filled with jagged cliffs and dark menacing peaks. Reeling left and right, up and down, Tessa didn’t have time to brace herself before she slammed into the hard packed ground with a sickening crack.

A few hours later, she came to, sprawled over the earth. Sitting up and waiting for the world to stop spinning and lurching, Tessa took deep breaths to keep herself from tipping over the metaphorical cliff and into a mental void of no return. Once the world settled, Tessa took inventory of her injuries. She was badly scraped and bruised, but seemed to have avoided sprains and breaks. Her breath was coming in short gasps, but at least she was breathing. She was experiencing some sharp pains, leading to the likely circumstance of some fractured ribs. Forcing herself to her feet, she surveyed the world around her.

It was harsh and cruel, all in varying shades of black, red, and brown. There were mountains in one direction, high and skeletal. In two other directions, endless waves of sand and dirt with occasional boulders stretched on for what appeared to be miles. And in the final direction, Tessa spotted what appeared to be something that resembled a city. But there was no sign of who she truly wanted to see. There was no sign of Jem. She spent the next few hours looking for him, but no sign. In that moment, despair rose in a wave and threatened to drown Tessa. She allowed herself a few minutes of heaving sobs before she choked them down and filled her mind with unwavering determination. She knew that if she let herself go, she would never stop crying. So, setting her eyes on the distant city and squaring her shoulders resolutely, Tessa began to walk.

Miles of earth disappeared under Tessa’s feet, each inch indistinguishable from the last. But she kept walking, even as the city seemed to be getting no closer. Without food or water in this deserted alien landscape, she knew she wouldn’t last long. So, Tessa stopped little, allowing herself only brief naps. Her eyes were constantly peeled for Jem, but everything around her showed no signs of motion, let alone people. So, that's how the next few days past. Tessa stubbornly walking, pushing herself closer and closer to the city, closer and closer to answers. Sometimes, Tessa felt so empty that she felt she might burst. Other times, so many emotions overwhelmed her she wanted to curl up and cry, laugh, and scream at the same time. But one thing remained constant. The glint in her eyes and her will to find revenge for all the lives that had been taken.

Jem stopped at the outskirts of the strange city, concealing himself behind what appeared to be some sort of stone column. His hair was messed and sweat beaded his temple, his stomach growled from lack of food, and small pants echoed from his parched throat. He had searched for Tessa for hours but no sign of her. So, Jem had made for the alien city, not stopping for rest or anything else. Now that he had made it, he gaped up at the foreign architecture, filled with wonder despite himself. However, Jem’s main goal remained foremost on his mind. Find out what the hell was going on here.

The next few hours were spent finding a safe way into the city. Matters were not made easier by the fact that it was swarming with creatures. Jem had never seen so many different beings in one place. They moved with surprising grace, even with their outside appearance. Jem finally managed to infiltrate the city, mainly by slipping down alleyways and sticking to the shadows. He made a beeline for a large, military looking building. Slipping in through a side entrance, Jem found himself in a tiny room. Looking upwards, he spotted movement and brief flashes of light. He heard the alien’s language being spoken, and found that all of a sudden he could understand it. Silently concealing himself behind a few crates, Jem proceeded to listen.

“Yes. Wave 3 has been successfully executed. It won’t be long before their world is ours and we can leave this one behind.” A pause. “Our soldiers did excellently. They were trained well.”

“Are you very sure none of their kind survived besides the young we stole?” At that, Jem felt his chest tighten and his breath began to come in jerky gasps. If somebody knew him and Tessa had survived, he didn’t want to know what would happen.

“Yes. I am very sure. Don’t worry General. It won’t be long now. The little ones are almost ready for transport. They’re in High Risk Unit 23. Go and prepare the guides for moving them.” Shuffling began to come from overhead, but Jem was already moving.

Sprinting out the door silently, Jem waited. He had no idea where “High Risk Unit 23” was, but the alien he was going to follow did. So, when a part wolf part lizard appeared, Jem trailed it as silently and as fluidly as a shadow. Through streets and across roads, past buildings and what even appeared to be houses. Finally, they arrived at a blocky building clearly built for functionality and not comfort. Jem peeled off from the alien then. It was time for him to make a plan of his own.

The next hour passed a blur of planning and mapping out the building as best he could. With still no sign of Tessa, Jem prepared to rescue the kids by himself. From that point on, he could try to find his wife. Jem was unwilling to attempt any form of escape without her. However, the second Jem entered that building, everything would once again crumble to dust.

Once Jem was actually inside the building, it was surprisingly easy. All he had to do was dodge some guards and creaky floorboards, and the unlocked door to the prison block was right in front of him. Opening it cautiously, Jem saw the most beautiful sight possibly to ever exist.

There was Tessa, alive and standing in front of the kids. Jem sprinted into the room, catching Tessa in his arms, crying and laughing at the same time. Tessa, upon sensing it was him, made a small choked sound of joy and pressed her lips to his. Murmuring comforts and small happy nothings, Jem ran his fingers over her being, checking for damage. Tessa was doing much the same thing, both feeling happier than they had in quite a while. Maybe the universe had decided to be kind to them, to offer a reprieve. In hindsight however, they would wonder how they considered it to be possible.

Turning to the kids, Jem rushed forward at the sight of all of them. There was Tavvy and Kit, Max and Rafe, and all the other Shadowhunter children. But, best of all for them, there was Mina. Dark eyes shining with joy, their daughter sprinted forward into her parent’s arms upon being set free. Crying with joy, they proceeded to free all the other kids. But happiness made them sloppy. So when Jem and Tessa had just finished comforting the scared looking children and telling them what they were going to do, it shouldn’t have been surprising when the floor rumbled. It shouldn’t have been surprising when the door to the cell opened and an army of aliens poured in. It shouldn't have been surprising. But it was.

#Shadowhunter #jem carstairs #tessa gray #mina carstairs #rafe lightwood bane #max lightwood bane #kit herondale #tavvy blackthorn #i am so sorry

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erintoknow · 4 years

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murder lives forever

Spiraling - A Fallen Hero: Rebirth Fan-fiction

[Read on AO3]

This is who you are now. Better get to work. Tw: death, self-harm [Savages]

“Rosie – position?”

Her voice crackles over the helmet radio, “Yeah, I’ve got clear sights.” Can hear the little hesitation of held breath.

Wait for it.

“You sure about this, Ghost?” She’s already switched to your new moniker, you note. Say what you will about Rosie; the woman is a professional. After tonight the rest of the city will know to mark ‘Puppetmaster’ as out of date.

“It’s – it’s not like you’re going to kill him. Just… flush the game if I give the signal.”

“...right. Okay, you’re the boss, boss.”

“Don’t forget it.”

Tucking your chin down you drop over the edge of the roof you’ve been hiding on. Jet boosters cushion your fall to a light landing. Fastening your cape close around you, you make a difficult figure to spot in the gloom. An impossibly dark shape blending into the larger shadow. Lou Marconi is a career bureaucrat who’s had a job working for the city for almost as long as it’s been called ‘Los Diablos.’ Long-lived and well-paid to be able to afford living in his own private mansion up on celebrity row.

This part of town, houses are further apart and street lighting is reduced. There’s a cool satisfaction to be had in how Marconi’s eagerness to flaunt his wealth only makes it easier for you to infiltrate. A brick wall delineates the edge of the lot. About as tall as you are.

It’s like he’s not even trying to keep you out.

A scramble over the top and you drop into a row of bushes. Tap the side of your helmet to switch into low-light vision. One of Mortum’s handy little programs starts tagging likely laser detectors. Under everything the pulsing thrum of a telepathic dampener blankets the minds in the building.

That’s your first target. With the Rat-King buffering you against the worst of it, you pull a song tight against your head – keep focused. Push forward to where the psychic chaff is the loudest. If you’re lucky, it’ll be a security station for the whole complex. Make your job easier.

So many shadows, so many nooks and crannies for you to stick to as you move along the perimeter of the building. It’s an open secret that Marconi makes his living as one of Los Diablos’s most bribable officials. If you’re going to reshape the city’s politics then the knowledge in his balding, wrinkled head is going to be invaluable.

Breaking into locked city hall safes, or cracking encrypted files is risky and time consuming. So you’ll break into his mind instead. He’s been avoiding public functions for a while now – paranoid little sleazeball. It’s like he thinks someone’s after him or something.

As you get closer to the dampener the pounding in your head intensifies. Can feel it in your teeth. A pressure pushing down, or something like the hiss of a CRT screen, a hissing pain that pierces through your skull with all the precision of a mortar round. Stripping away everything.

The Rat-King chitters in irritation. Sorry guys, we’re almost through this part, you promise. A small security station, wooden walls, windows. Hah. You were worried it would be inside the main building. But this? Marconi may have been around a few blocks but it’s clearly made him arrogant more than it has anything else.

Quick check up and down the walkway, no incoming patrols. Gritting your teeth you slide inside, stepping over the laser detect across the threshold. Inside, a bank of monitor screens takes up one wall while a bored looking man in a blue guard outfit reclines in a chair with his back to the door, feet up on the desk. There in the corner, the stainless steel tube about as thick as your torso rises from floor to ceiling. Take that out and you can finally breathe.

But first the guard.

He doesn’t even register you behind him until you’ve got your arm around his neck, crushing his windpipe. Your other hand claps over his mouth. He tries to pull free, slip out, fight back. But you’re the one in control here.

Finally the man goes limp and you let go. Immediately you get to work examining the control board. Dampeners consume a lot of electricity. You doubt they keep it live all the time, so…. There, the dail. Turn it down and the oppressive weight on your head easies up and fades away. It’s like standing up in the open desert after a week in confinement. Laughing you stretch out your awareness, casting wide and mentally tagging the notes of the guards patrolling the building. And… there’s Marconi in the dining hall, with some guests and… is that?

You sigh. So much for joy. Well, he’s the sole Ranger you haven’t fought yet. Suppose it was time.

Before you leave, you press your left hand to the dampener. The nanovores don’t need much coaxing to reduce the damn thing to dust. You’ll take no chances tonight.

As for the guard… He’ll wake up soon on his own. Raise the alarm. Grabbing his mind, currently placid in unconsciousness, you drag it down deeper, wrap it in a dream. On a whim you coax it to be something nice. Ice cream with his daughters.

There.

That should at least buy you time until the next check in.

Dining Hall is towards the back. You’ll swing around, wait for the bastard to go to the bathroom and snag him on the way back. If it goes well, you won’t even be noticed.

It’s not going to happen like that, but you can hope.

Sure enough, Rosie cuts in on the radio. “Uh, hey, Boss?”

“What?”

“I’m seeing some weird movement.”

“Police?” Was there a tip-off? Who? How? You didn’t even tell Rosie the actual mission until this evening.

“No, I don’t know what. It’s just… bad vibes, man.”

You grit your teeth. ‘Bad vibes’ huh. Well, you only have yourself to blame for encouraging Rosie to be candid. “I’ll take it under advisement. Keep your eyes on the roof.”

“Roger.”

The voice in your ear goes silent again. You hang at the corner. So far, you’ve stuck between the pair of patrols circling the grounds. Not much time left until someone discovers your work at the security station. Marconi is on the other side of those windows. Just his bodyguard with him still…

Fuck it.

Ducking your head down you break into a run, jumping over the hedge and crashing through the window. Alarms immediately start blaring as people start screaming. The Rat-King pulls your attention and you throw yourself down to the ground. Something flies over your head and explodes in a burst of light and sound outside.

As you get to your feet, you find yourself face-to-face with the bodyguard. “Marshal Steel.” You grit your teeth. “Playing private bodyguard?” Not even the inflexible Wei Chen is above making money on the side you guess. Disappointing.

Chen watches you, hands at the ready, a shoulder-mounted mini-missile system attached to his power armor. Great. “I can’t say I care what you think of me, Puppetmaster.”

“It’s Ghost.” You do your best sneer with a mirrored helmet. “Try to keep up, Marshal.” This is your only second time out, and first time using the name, but he doesn’t need to know that. Let them sweat a little.

“I’d heard the rumors, but you disappoint me, Puppetmaster.”

Rumors? So there was a tip-off. Who squealed?

You shake your head. Stay focused. Stay in control. “Just going to ask our friend here some questions. That’s all.”

Marconi bristles at that, presses himself back against the dining table, a half-eaten roll of bread in one hand. His face is bright red as he raises his voice “What are you doing!? Protect me!”

Chen frowns, a note of irritation spiking across his mind. What’s the matter Chen? Don’t like taking orders? He plants his feet, and you tense up, waiting for the missile you’ll have to dodge.

“No!” Marconi shouts, “Don’t blow up my house you idiot!”

“My orders are only to keep you safe.” Catch the briefest glimpse of a smile on Chens face as another rocket goes flying your way. You throw yourself sideways, crashing through the dinner table, the wood snapping in half under the sudden weight of your suit. Your helmet flashes black in response to the burst of light, ears ringing. Stun bombs? What is with these assholes and treating you with kids gloves? You’d think at least Chen would be willing to go for the kill.

Noise – people talking you can’t make out while your ears keep ringing. But, fuck. Marconi’s running. The roof. He’s going to the roof.

You grin.

Great.

You’d give Rosie a head’s up, but the fist coming down on your torso takes priority. You roll out of the way, scramble to your feet. Shake your head, think the ringing is calming down. “Alright. Fine.” You raise your fists. “Only fair I treat the Marshal too.”

“Hrm.” Chen frowns, staring at you. What’s he looking at? Seeing something – fuck – You push off, taking a swing at him. Force him to focus on the fight. He staggers backward. Gets his bearings and then swings his arm around at an unnatural angle. A plated fist catches you in the throat, knocking you to the floor.

Coughing, you sputter, pushing yourself backwards to put space between the two of you as you catch your breath. Damn, when could he extend his arm like that? The Marshal has some new tricks.

“So you’re just another contract killer after all.”

You dodge his fist as you get up, duck under his arm as you get behind him. “What are–” You cut yourself off, hiss, “Don’t think y–you can distract me. I know your tricks, Chen.”

He twists around as you dodge around him, “Do you?.”

Oh fucking goddamnit.

You grit your teeth. This. This is why you should just keep fucking quiet on operations. Don’t get mouthy, you idiot. The two of you trade blows as you dance around each other. This is not good. Not a good match up at all. You’re fast enough that Chen can’t really touch you save for the occasional lucky hit. But are any of your blows getting through that armor? He’s showing no signs of slowing down. You need to disengage. Grab Marconi before he gets away.

The Nanovores? Could they crack the armor? But what if they…? Steel is your enemy. Killing him is part of the end-game. Taking him out shouldn’t be sending your stomach into knots. Why did you even get these damn things if you weren’t going to use them?

Fuck it.

Gritting your teeth you catch his arm with your left hand. Start to coax the Nanovores to life and –

An explosion shakes the building, the chandelier above you both jostling in a chime of clattering glass.

You let go, jumping back. Heart in your throat.

Chen doesn’t press the advantage, glaring at you. “What did you do.”

“I didn’t do anything!” You raise your hands. Under your breath you activate the radio, “Rosie?”

“Boss! Something on the roof just went–”

“I know!” You hiss.

Chen narrows his eyes. “Who are you talking to–”

“Shut up!” You hold up a hand, tuck in your chin, not taking your eyes off Chen. “Keep an eye on the fucking roof. Don’t let him leave.” You jump backwards out of the way of Chen’s fist. “Goddamnit Chen, I’m not here to f–f–fucking kill anybody!”

“Then who set off that bomb, Ghost?”

“I don’t fucking know!” You grit your teeth. Fire is spreading through the building. Was it a bomb or a missile? Which would be better? And then there’s… “Shit.” You look away from Chen, run through the map in your head. “There’s people trapped.”

“What?” Chen tenses up, staring you down. “How do you know?”

“Don’t act stupid.” You snap back. “I know you know I’m a telepath.” You move towards the far end of the hall. “We need to get them out of here.” You put your hand against the wall, frown, glance back at Chen. “Don’t just f–fucking stand there, you idiot. Use your plasma cutter. Help me get through this wall.”

Chen frowns. Some sort of internal debate. Then he nods and follows you. “Roger.”

Fuck, this isn’t going to help you at all. It’s too like the days you and Chen worked emergency relief. But– “Why are you doing this?” Chen cuts through the wall, kicking it down.

“W–what?” You take stock of the other side. Looks like some kind of guestroom? Still not far enough.

“You could have left this to me. It’s not your problem.” Chen follows your direction to the next wall you indicate with a tap of your hand.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m – I’m not a killer.”

Things would be so much easier if you were.

“Still.” Chen grunts, knocking down the weakened square of wall. “Not killing and actively saving are two different things.”

“S–shut up.” You hiss.

Now here’s a room with some damage. One wall is gone, open to the outside air as flames lick the edges, spreading across the ground and burning the furniture. There’s a hole in the floor where part of the basement roof caved in. With a hand gesture you take the lead, hopping down first into the cellar.

Some kind of storage room. More collapsed ceiling blocks the way out. Two panicking employees freeze in their efforts to dig their way out, looking up at you with dread. Ah shit.

Catch sight of a woman trapped under a toppled shelving unit at the far end. Ignoring the two men you push through the rubble towards her. Can hear the ‘thud’ of Chen following you down. Clearing out the rubble.

A broken gas pipe catches your attention and you divert to twist it closed at the nearest valve. Would be just your luck if there’s still enough gas to blow the room up when the flames get here.

Back to the woman. Grit your teeth as you strain to lift the shelf. Chen catches up with you and you jerk your head towards the woman, unconscious against the ground. “Get – get her out of here.”

Chen bends down, cradles her between his arms. As soon as he’s clear you let the shelf drop with a gasp of relief. Jesus. Those exercises are paying off. You shoo him away, as you catch your breath. “Go, idiot!”

He hesitates. Face unreadable. “Be careful.”

“Y–yeah whatever, just go!” You sag backwards as Chen finally turns, shielding his charge under his body as he shoulders through the collapsing rubble.

If you were smart you’d make your own exit now.

You aren’t smart.

Race to the hole up. Boost-jet jump back to the ground floor. The room is fully ablaze now. A second explosion rocks the building, sending you scrambling to keep your balance as you race through the hallway. Rosie’s voice crackles back over the static. “Holy shit, you alive down there?”

“I’m fine. Report.”

Rosie’s voice is frantic, speech rushed. “Guy was gonna fly out. I scared him into cover, then his damn chopper blew up.”

“Shit. Is he still alive?” You stretch out your awareness, canvas the dozen panicking minds fleeing the building.

“I don’t know! I can’t see anything in the smoke.”

“You did your job.” You job up the stairwell, run down the hallway to the roof access. “Pull out. Wait at the rendezvous.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. Every damn cop in the city is going to be on you any second.”

“Consider me appraised.” You cut the connection, up another round of steps and then – oh. A chunk of the building has already collapsed. Well fuck. That’s not a good sign. Gritting your teeth you peer through the smoke and flame, try to appraise a chunk of roof that’s still stable. There!

A running jump with boosters flaring puts your hands just in range to grab the edge. Smoldering wood creaks under your weight as you swing in the open air. Arms scream complaints as you pull yourself up. Wheeze for breath once you’re on your feet. Shit. Not in total shape just yet you guess.

Firelight coats the ruins of the roof in a dozen criss-crossing shadows. Chunks of scattered metal litter the ground. You foot catches on something and you glance down. Dead body. Kick it over, and it looks like a guard. Blue uniform. Damn. Dead for an asshole like this? Not worth it.

Speaking of which…

There! The Rat-King directs your attention. Weak, stunned thoughts. You race across the roof to find a prone Lou Marconi on the ground. Blood gushes out of his nose. Broken? But still alive. That’s all you need. Who doesn’t want the two of you talking this badly?

Well, too bad. They failed.

Maybe – maybe wait until you’re somewhere safe before you say that.

With a grimace you pick up the bleeding man. Only one way off the roof from here. Can your booster jets handle both of your weights?

Fucking hell.

Holding the limp body against you, you take another running jump. Jets flaring against the pull of gravity as you plumet. Slowed, but not by enough. You crash into the brush, white fire cascading up your legs and into your spine. Momentum carries you forward still, sending you crashing against the perimeter wall and

fuck

fuck no no no…

You shake Marconi. Where’d his mind go? It was still there. However faint. However dim. Can’t check for a pulse or breath with your gloves on. Press a hand to his chest as tight as you can bear. Nothing.

You drop the body to the ground with a thud.

He… he was going to die stuck on that roof anyway right? So – so you didn’t really – you were trying to save him. Sure you were planning to rifle through his memories like a thief through cabinets, but you weren’t – you weren’t going to kill him.

Fuck.

fuck fuck fuck

–––

Watch your reflection in the mirror. Only minor bruises and sore muscles from tonight, but you’ll fix that.

The face in the reflection is empty, it’s eyes a rancid green, partially obscured under a veil of curling red threads twisted out of shape. Skin paler than anything has a right to be under Californian sun. Whoever you jacked your genes from clearly was never meant to see the light of day.

Don’t look down, stare ahead at that grimace, gritted teeth. The sharp pain. The knife clatters out of a hand as steam from the faucet brushes the silver, condensing against the glass. With a hiss you shift position, pressed against the counter. Too hot – too warm. You jerk the arm out from under the spray. Pat it down with a towel. Distant screaming alarm bells in the back of your head. Grab a stretch of bandage and wrap the wound.

You’re here. This is real.

Almost.

Almost fooled yourself back there. Sneaking in where you shouldn’t, dropping everything to get someone out of trouble. It’s not you anymore. Let it go.You put two Rangers in the hospital and humiliated a third. You destroyed priceless exhibits and ensured no one would ever remember your old alter ego ever again. Now someone’s died – directly because of you.

‘He was going to die up there anyway,’ ‘it wasn’t your fault.’ Excuses. If you hadn’t had Rosie keep him from the helicopter, then at least his death wouldn’t literally be on your hands.

There’s no turning back from this, only pressing forward. However far you can get before the end.

You’re not going to burn alone.

–––

Jane shades her eyes from the afternoon sun as she looks down at the business card in her hand, frowning. ‘Mia Ochoa.’ A reporter for LD Confidential. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

The deceptively small Fillipino woman sitting across from her huffs at that. “It’s the most respected independent newspaper in Los Diablos.”

“Uh-huh.” Jane slides the card into her purse, making a show of thinking it over. Wound her professional pride. Make her think she has something to prove. “And… how can I help you, Miss Ochoa?”

Ochoa flips over to a blank page in her penpad, chewing on her pencil eraser. A serious look settles over her face. “I know you were at the Gala the night of Puppetmaster’s debut… and…” She hesitates, watching her lunch partner carefully. “I have reason to suspect you know more about what happened that night then anyone else.”

Jane’s eyebrows shoot up. She ducks down her head, hissing angrily. “And where do you get off making that kind of claim?”

From you, of course. You sent her the anonymous tip-off. Something to whet her appetite. Mia Ochoa is exactly what you need to start working the media angle. An established reporter with a respected reputation for pushing the edge, but not so famous as to be unapproachable by a nobody.

“I have my sources.” Ochoa answers, tactfully. “As I trust you have yours.”

Jane sits back, frowning. Drums her hand on the table. “Suppose I did. What’s your angle?”

Ochoa leans over the table, dropping her voice. “There’s something going on with this city. Something weird. I intend to get to the bottom of it.”

Hrrm… Jane hums to herself and shifts in her seat. Pulls out photocopied piece of paper. Ochoa’s eyes watch the paper as Jane spins it between her fingers. “You hear about Marconi?”

“You’re going to tell me it wasn’t a house fire.”

Jane purses her lips, puts the paper down on the table between the two of them. “Nooope.”

Ochoa picks up the paper, brow creasing as she tries to read the smudged print. “So the whole Puppetmaster arson thing was just a cover-up.”

“Oh, Ghost was there.”

She looks up at Jane. “Ghost?” Blinks. “Oh.” Looks back at the paper in her hands.

“And somebody wanted our friend dead. But it wasn’t Ghost.”

“Who?”

Jane spreads her arms wide, leaning back in her chair. “You’re the famed investigative reporter. Investigate.”

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero fanfic #fanfiction #fhr/Ariadne #tw: death #tw: self harm

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valasania-the-pale · 4 years

Text

The Last Rose - Chapter Three

Sorry for the delay, college decided to be a bit of a pain in the ass these last few weeks. Hope you all enjoy, please read and leave a review!

Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY, I'm just playing in the sandbox.

X_0_X

Her Uncle leaned on Harbinger, the weapon transformed into its scythe configuration. The snath didn’t even bend underneath his not-inconsiderable mass, such was the skill that had gone into its construction. “So, kiddo. You’ve got your pig-sticker. And you’ve got me out here to teach you how to use it.” His head tilted to the side. “Do you even know what you’re asking?”

“I know, Uncle Qrow,” Ruby would not be deterred.

She had the will, she had the means, and now she had the weapon to match. She would have her teacher if she had to beg on her knees for it.

She twirled her newly-completed scythe – still no name, she hadn’t though of something fitting yet – and waited, hoping he would see something in her that would ease the thoughtful furrow of his brow.

“Heh…” he took a swig from his flask.

Ruby’s nose wrinkled in disgust as the stench prickled her senses.

“You’ve got the moxie for it too, I guess,” he chuckled, finally, his hard red eyes observing her silver, reading her. “But that ain’t the question I’m asking. Why do you want to be a huntress, Ruby? Honest answer here, this isn’t a fairy tale or some kid’s story – why should I teach you how to wield that thing?”

…

I want to help people – I’ve always wanted to help people.

To be the hero in the stories, slaying monsters, saving the day and bringing hope to a world where hope is fragile.

I want to be like my mom was, before she died. Or my dad was, before depression started eating him alive. Or even my uncle, before he started hiding from his demons in the depths of a bottle.

Being a hero… being the best person I can be - that is the standard I’ve tried to live by throughout my entire career from start to finish.

Unfortunately, slaying monsters is the easy part. I’ve never been very good at helping myself.

X_0_X

“Are you waiting for the ball to grow legs and move itself, Yatsu?” Velvet Scarlatina playfully called from her seat.

The imposing huntsman rolled his eyes at her, still circling the pool table to find the perfect vantage point for his next move. He’d done the same thing the last time it had been his turn, and the one before that – Velvet figured that if he’d been the one to break, he’d have considered his options for several minutes there as well.

Coco nudged her from the side, smirking overly wide when Velvet glanced over. Velvet sniffed. Bitch. So what if she’d drawn the short straw when it came to teams? Fox didn’t waste his time pretending to know what he was doing, sure, but he couldn’t predict shots for shit…

Finally finding his angle, Yatsuhashi leaned over the table, pool cue in hand. Velvet’s lips quirked up at the sight; the man was so big, his shadow covered nearly half the table.

“Don’t you dare start chalking up again, Yatsu,” Coco snarked.

“Impatience is no virtue, Coco.” The giant of a man didn’t even seem phased by her taunt.

He drew back, and the satisfying clack of colliding stone filled the air. “He’s going to sink one of ours, Vel,” Coco observed.

“Shut up! He is not!”

Seconds later and one enemy three-ball pocketed, Coco grinned smugly and sashayed over to claim her spot around the table. Long ears falling flat over her head, Velvet commiserated with her teammate as he plunked down into Coco’s chair.

“It’s alright, Yatsu. You know she just makes us play ‘cause she knows we all suck at this game.” She patted him on his heavy shoulder.

Yatsuhashi merely pouted.

Fox grinned widely at the two from his table, sketching away in his journal. Probably working on his shading again… He tried so hard to be the team’s cartographer-slash-chronicler, but if Velvet was being brutally honest, he wasn’t very good at it.

Well, maybe even that was too nice. Fox just kind of sucked at drawing, not that anyone was terribly surprised. Nobody else wanted to do it though, and he lost that bet with Yatsuhashi, who got tricked into it by Coco, so it was his job now.

What was it that Oobleck had called them when they showed up for class with half-baked sketches for their homework? ‘Functionally cooperative?’

Didn’t matter. Fox could smirk all he wanted. She was still the best at rhythm games by far, not this stupid bar game.

As Coco leaned over to take her shot, mouth thinning into a tight line, Velvet perked up as the door to the door loudly slid open – a stone-faced Mistral official marched in, barely pausing to shut it behind him.

That usually wasn’t good – this bar was well-known for the huntsmen that frequented it. If Mistral was bothering them this late at night, it meant something important was afoot. Her chocolate colored eyes flickered over the various faces throughout the room. Huntsmen, huntresses, some of them here in teams and some alone.

Perhaps two dozen wary eyes fixed on the official, measuring, anticipating what trouble he’d bring to their lives today.

Coco plopped herself down in her seat as her streak came to an end, handing off her cue to Velvet. Her interest waned quickly as she returned her attention to the table, now several solids short of where it had been a minute ago.

Damnit Coco…

At the bar, the owner was in deep, rapid conversation with the official. She tuned them out. They’d probably make an announcement to the bar in a second.

Velvet drew her arm back, tongue stuck out the corner of her mouth. She’d been left an easy opening this time – she could make this, sure thing.

“You said Ruby Rose?”

Mid-thrust, Velvet jerked. The cue ball clacked against the bumper, sailed off into the wrong direction and soundly pocketed the eight ball. She blinked, momentarily astounded by her bad luck - She wasn’t that bad at pool! – before whirling around to pay much closer attention to the exchange.

The barkeep was pale – well, paler than usual. Mistrallans didn’t usually have much color to begin with this far north… His hands wrung together, face a scrunched up, mess of worry. All around, the other huntsmen watched with carefully guarded interest.

They all knew Ruby. Who didn’t? The little reaper had a reputation, after all. Everything she was involved in either made for great stories, or great trouble. That was also to say nothing of the fact that she was probably on friendly terms with almost everyone in the room.

Another moment passed before the official finally cottoned onto the attention he’d drawn. He shot a questioning look at the barkeep. Getting a nod in return, the man stepped forward.

“Huntsmen, you know that the Mistral Council prefers not to interrupt your valued time between assignments,” he began, voice raised despite the entire room falling silent to listen. “Unfortunately, a situation has arisen that necessitates our action.”

The man pulled a sleek-looking scroll from his pocket and handed it to the barkeep. “Hours ago, one of our airships returned from an assignment down south without the two huntsmen it was supposed to be retrieving, as well as one of its pilots. The remaining operator has provided us with footage of why this is.”

A large holographic screen appeared off to the side – specifically installed for these sorts of situations. Velvet glanced at her team apprehensively while they waited for the image to buffer.

Yatsuhashi and Fox wore identical grim expressions, leaning forward in their seats with hands held stiffly in their laps. Fox’s fingers twitched erratically as he restrained his need to move and be active. Coco merely leaned back in her own chair, arms crossed behind her head and features perfectly blank.

Velvet squirmed. How was Ruby caught up in this? She’d heard her friend had been taking smaller missions lately. Nothing that should lead to the Council’s intervention.

The image finally loaded, the feed grainy and indistinct.

Whatever camera it came from was obviously loaded onto some sort of drone – Fox usually carried theirs around when they chose to use it. The perspective constantly vibrated and shifted as the wind picked up and changed directions.

A village in flames. Smoke rising from the ruins, masking most of the scene. What little was visible was hellish – houses crumbling under their own weight as support beams charred through and dissolved, broken stone toppling over, and the aside from the flames devouring everything in reach, a dreadful stillness unnatural for the relatively large settlement.

But then a tiny figure in a distinctive scarlet, hooded cloak stepped into the large open courtyard, carrying a scythe longer than they were tall.

Velvet felt her lips press into a line, fingers clenching the arms of her chair. Ruby.

Something else entered the frame – previously covered by the smoke. She had to restrain herself from blanching. Grimm that large were extremely rare, and often frighteningly powerful. The picture was so bad she couldn’t quite tell what its species was, but the thick armor distributed around its body was more than enough to confirm her fears.

An Ancient had surfaced in Mistral.

And Ruby was going to fight it. Had fought it already.

Velvet hoped her friend had better sense than that and ran.

The bar was mostly silent, save for the hushed whispers making the rounds as huntsmen moved toward their teams. Already, there were plans circulating. How to kill such a powerful specimen of Grimm, what sort of weapons would be needed. Rumors as well, abilities, its species, strengths, weaknesses. All things huntsmen would want to know.

In the video, the drone hovered, getting as clear an image as it could as Ruby faced off with the beast.

‘Oh dust, this has to have happened hours ago. Is she alright? Is she even alive?’

Ruby suddenly vanished, becoming nothing but a faint scarlet blur. Her scythe slashed at the Ancient, once, twice - three times to stave off an angry swipe, and then the huntress was backing away to avoid further retaliation, then turning into a whirlwind of blurring steel and rose petals. Velvet grimaced at the sight. The beast was barely fazed by the assault… Ruby was so tiny compared to it…

Velvet’s heart skipped a beat as Ruby abruptly froze in place, her legs anchored to the ground by something shadowy – what the hell were they? Some sort of subterranean Grimm? She freed herself swiftly, but Ruby had nowhere to escape as the Ancient bore down on her.

“No…” she whispered as Ruby’s hasty escape attempt was brutally punished. The camera suddenly panned away toward an approaching airship, just too slow to hide the distinctive flare-and-flicker of scarlet light around Ruby as she crashed into a crumbling house.

“The video was taken by one Bai Long,” the official spoke up once the video ended. “He had time to transmit the feed to the airship before he and his partner, Reed Bryce joined the huntress in the fight. Though it has yet to be officially confirmed, it is highly likely that she is indeed Ruby Rose – her last mission puts her near the area, and the appearances match up.”

“The Council believes that thing is Ancient?” A dark-haired huntsman spoke up from a booth on the other side of the room. His face was inscrutable.

“Correct. The Huntsmen’s Guild has already issued a Class Eight Search and Destroy mission, if Miss Rose and Misters Long and Bryce have not already eliminated it.”

“That thing isn’t going down without planning and firepower.” Another huntress leaned forward. “I know Bai and Reed – they’re strong, but even with the Reaper’s help they’re not going to kill an Ancient in one go.”

“How many teams is the mission asking for? Or is it solo?”

“Fuck the mission board, anyone who thinks that one team is going to be enough to kill that thing is suicidal.”

Velvet tuned out from the conversation, pulse speeding up to match her rising anxiety. The game was forgotten behind her as she rose to her feet and gracefully wove her way between several tables.

With huntsmen now looking at their scrolls for more details or huddling together to discuss the assignment, the Mistrallan official now sat down tiredly at the bar to nurse a glass of gin. Velvet cleared her throat anxiously to catch his attention.

Two sets of eyes, one set and tired, the other flecked by worry, locked onto her. Deep breaths Velvet, these people aren’t going to yell or laugh at you…

“Yes, Miss…?”

“Scarlatina,” she answered, shelving her worry. She was a huntress, damnit. “I was wondering if there was anything more you could tell me about Ruby?”

“Nothing much to say, unfortunately,” the official admitted. “We have only that footage to go off of. Huntsman Long took his drone with him into the fight, and our airships have limited range, to say nothing of the smoke covering up everything.”

The barkeep cut in, staring at Velvet. “You don’t think she was seriously hurt, do you?”

She belatedly realized that showing so much visible worry probably didn’t give the man much hope for Ruby’s wellbeing – she’d know better than he after all, being a huntress herself.

“I… no, I don’t think so,” she said, forcing her hands to relax. “But I can’t say for sure. That was a pretty bad hit and seeing her aura flicker like that isn’t good. If Ruby got away fast enough she’ll be fine.”

The man looked troubled.

Curiosity flared. Velvet had to ask. “Do you know her?”

“Ruby?” He seemed surprised. “‘Course. I swear, that girl is the only one who remembers my name sometimes. Probably helps that she never orders anything that’ll make her forget it, but still.” The man scowled. “’Sides, I served her uncle more times than I can count. Heard stories about her for years from him, before he dropped off the map.”

“Oh.” Velvet suddenly realized she had no idea what the man’s name was, despite frequenting the bar for several years. “I… uh. I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”

Was she supposed to ask his name now? She could write it down for the future – but didn’t that defeat the purpose of remembering it anyways, since she’d just be chea- no! She had a reason for coming over here!

“Right,” Velvet shook off the mental tangent and met the official’s grey eyes. “Is there anything being done to retrieve Ruby and the others, then?”

He nodded. “Search and Rescue mission. Class five, given how dangerous the Grimm is supposed to be. Almost got ranked higher, but you wouldn’t be asked to fight anyways, just get them out.”

His lips pursed. “To be honest, the Council doesn’t have high hopes for their survival unless they got away as quickly as possible. The mission is unclaimed though – there’s already an airship getting itself ready for departure in a few hours.”

Velvet nodded rapidly. “I – We, I need to go talk to my team about it real fast, just wait here.”

“Don’t worry about it, Vel.”

She twisted on the spot. Coco’s shades had slid down her nose, warm brown eyes crinkling sympathetically at her as the fashionista cocked her hip just slightly to the side. “You don’t really think we’d pass this up when it means so much to you, hm?”

She flushed. “I, well, thought you’d be excited to go on a mission to kill an Ancient, you know?” the faunus stammered.

Coco sniffed. “There’ll always be Ancients. Friends are a bit more important than that – and Ruby’s a friend, even if she hates going clothes shopping with us.”

“I’ll go get our stuff ready!” Fox called over, picking up on their intent. He was already jogging toward the door.

Yatsuhashi merely nodded to her from his seat, sending her an encouraging thumbs-up as an afterthought.

Velvet could feel her heart warm, filled to bursting with her gratitude. “Thanks Coco,” she said in a tiny voice. Her partner smirked.

“Anytime, Vel. But. You owe me another game of pool – a full game, so I can kick your cute little ass as thoroughly as it deserves.”

“I don’t suck that badly at pool!”

“I guess you’ll just have to proooove it~”

It was several minutes before their squabbling could come to an end – Coco efficiently moving through the mission sign-up provided by the official while deftly countering each and every protest Velvet made. When they finished, Yatsuhashi joining them in the process, they left quickly, Velvet’s smile just a bit wider around the edges after the barkeep waived their tab for the night.

It didn’t do much to assuage her nervousness and worry – and by the pallor he carried, the man felt the same – but it was a kindness.

Her eyes closed briefly as she pulled on her huntress’ garb, willing her thoughts to reach her friend.

‘We’re coming, Ruby.’

X_0_X

The village burned below her CORPSES littering the ground, battered, lifeless, bloody puddles EVERYWHERE. Fire, always hungry, raced through the crippled settlement, devouring everything in reach as creatures of GRIMM roamed freely through the village.

A twist of the hand. A finger on the trigger, pulling, letting gravity pull her to the ground as her now-bisected mount tumbled through the air. She landed on her feet, crushed stone rattling across the cobblestone, scythe held tightly in her hands.

EYES. Burning red eyes, all trained on her. The Grimm surged forward, Crescent Rose slashing slicing dicing Grimmflesh like it was nothing, THEY were nothing and deserved her fury for what they’d DONE here. With every kill she felt the fire burn brighter within her. She would AVENGE them all reap the soulless beings who had KILLED all these people and introduce HER own justice to this eternal conflict.

The village burned. It shook. A new foe appeared. Fire licked her as the Berengal threw her away. Eating at her. Her legs. She burned. Something was WRONG. Why did it hurt so much…? This hadn’t happened before the world was shaking whywasthisnothappeninglikeshereme-

“Huntress! Wake, please!”

Ruby surged awake with a gasp, body still aflame with the dream.

All was quiet save for the merrily crackling fire just a few feet away. For a brief moment she stared, looking back in time to see the shapes crumpled amongst the ashes. Faces twisted in a gruesome rictus. Darkness amidst the surging light, bright embers substituting for hateful eyes.

She shook her head thoroughly, grimacing as her leg pulsed angrily where the poison ate into her flesh.

“Miss Rose?”

Right. Her companion.

“Is something wrong?” she asked warily.

He certainly looked like something was wrong. Shoulders tense, arms held tightly to his sides, the pilot – Kohroku, he’d told her - exuded nervousness tangible enough that the hair on her arms prickled up instinctively.

“The howling. It has been growing louder and closer,” he said, a deep frown on his face.

Ruby sat up. Their flight from Horikiri had already been troubled enough by the Colossus, what with the vines erupting at random from the ground to attack them. While before they’d been a nuisance – tools used and thrown away to delay or distract her from the more important danger the Grimm itself posed – without her aura protecting her she was hard pressed to avoid having her legs snared and crushed by their powerful grip.

But worse were the lesser Grimm attracted to the negativity and destruction of such a large settlement. The Colossus might have claimed the lion’s share of victims, but Grimm were more than happy to pursue refugees at their most vulnerable.

They were hunters at heart but weren’t averse to scavenging their kills.

By the pitch she’d observed earlier, she was certain they’d picked up a pack of Beowolves. Normally she wouldn’t have been worried about such weak Grimm. Without her aura, however, fighting an entire pack was dangerous, almost tantamount to suicide.

The huntress closed her eyes, listening. Bright orange seeped through her eyelids from the fire. She didn’t let it distract her.

…

Ah.

There it was. Loud, piercing, and tinged with the fury unique to Grimm on the prowl. Kohroku was right, they were much closer now. And their numbers had swollen to several dozen, if the amount of replies the call received was anything to go by.

“You’re right,” she said finally, loosening her focus. “We’ll have to get moving in a few hours.”

“Not now?”

“No. Surprised?” Ruby smiled wanly. “They’re closer, but still miles off and not moving very fast right now. They’ll probably bed down for the night soon.”

“I see.”

He didn’t. The tension in his shoulders spoke louder than his words ever could. Something hung over him like a dark cloud, screening his true feelings from her. He sat in front of the fire to warm his hands, staring deep into the flames.

Too alert to sleep now, Ruby regarded the Mistrallan curiously. Now that they weren’t fighting or running for their lives through miles of wilderness, her bemusement from much earlier returned…

Nothing for it.

“Why are you here?” she asked bluntly.

“I… pardon?”

“The fight earlier. Why would you jump into it? You’re a pilot, not a huntsman,” she pointed out. “You might have aura, but you don’t have the training to use it in combat. Why join a fight like that?”

He shifted on the spot, pulling his knees up to his chest, khakis reflecting the flickering light and shadow. His expression twisted into something troubled.

That wouldn’t do. She scooted closer to grasp his shoulder, giving him a tight squeeze when he looked at her askance. Silver eyes glinted kindly. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, I’m just curious.”

He tried to shake her off, but it was halfhearted at best. “No, you deserve an answer. It’s just that… I hate – I…” Kohroku trailed off, eyes closing as he gathered his thoughts. Ruby’s smile dimmed, but she waited, lending him some strength through her touch.

Several minutes passed in silence, until it was broken.

“Horikiri was not the first town I have seen burn,” the pilot admitted finally. “Not even the second, nor the third… Sometimes I am bringing huntsmen to clean up the Grimm, sometimes I am finding a safe spot to land so that I can rescue survivors. It is always the same – tears or stoicism or anger, everything past the smoke is pain. When I saw you down there, and the others jumping down to help...”

Ruby felt a twinge in her stomach, her eyes squeezing shut as echoes of her dream played across her mind’s eye.

“I am not a councilor to make laws that protect people, or a doctor to cure people of their hurts and ills,” he continued, voice dipping low. “Nor a huntsman for others to look up to. I want to help people, but am I doing the most I can, just being an airship pilot?”

“You think you could be doing more.”

“Yes! I have my aura unlocked. Perhaps with more training I could even discover my semblance. I…” Kohroku sighed, and Ruby empathized with the tired look on his face. “I am tired of feeling useless in the face of suffering.”

The Beowolves howled again, backdrop to the nocturnal hum of the forest and the gentle crackling of the flames. Ruby let the moment hang, several minutes passing by as both immersed themselves deep in introspection.

Did she understand how Kohroku felt? In the cordoned section of her heart she kept under tight reign, lest it corrode her will to act, she did. Impotence was a huntress’ bane, the reason they trained their bodies and minds so rigorously every single day. Ruby hadn’t considered before how it must feel for the other people involved in their vocation; pilots like Kohroku, or the relief workers sent into villages to help them recover from failed raids, or any of the dozens of others tasked with keeping the Grimm at bay.

She was a huntress, always at the head of the action or, these days, working alone. She might talk to the people she worked beside; get to know them and develop a rapport, but none of those bonds had ever developed enough for her to hear of such personal demons, to look behind the curtain…

Time to change that.

“Twelve years ago, Beacon fell,” she said suddenly, startling her companion. “I was just a freshman then. The girl killed in the tournament was one of my best friends… Penny Polendina… When the real fighting started, so many of the people I knew, civilian and huntsman alike, were hurt or killed by Grimm or the White Fang or the Atlesian mechs rampaging through the city. I fought as hard as I could, but… a lot of the time, it wasn’t enough.”

Ruby scooped up a hand of the soft earth, appreciating the cool dampness as it crumbled through her fingers. “Later, my… partner… and I were searching for two of our friends who’d gone missing. We found one – Jaune – but he’d been separated from his partner. I ran ahead once we knew where she was, but I was too late. She died the moment after I found her, killed by the woman who orchestrated it all…”

“Huntress, I--”

“I never felt more helpless in my life than in that moment,” Ruby interrupted forcefully. “When I saw my team, they were crippled or shattered. My friends… they were dead, or grieving. My family was confused and scrambling for some way to help make everything better in the aftermath.”

She turned to look the pilot directly in the eyes, her own silver blazing brightly. “Those feelings didn’t go away.” The earth disappeared in her clenched fist. “But I kept fighting. Horikiri isn’t the first village I’ve seen destroyed either. It won’t be the last time I’m too slow to save the day.”

“You’ve done great things though!” Kohroku protested. “You’ve saved hundreds of people, killed countless Grimm! You’re the Reaper, scourge of Mistral’s bandit tribes – one of the greatest huntresses alive!”

“Being the Reaper didn’t help anyone in that village,” Ruby rebuffed. “But that’s not my point. I’ve failed a lot, in my life. Too slow, too weak, too tired, or too late.”

She jabbed a finger into his chest. He jerked backwards. “That doesn’t make the people I did save worthless. You think you can do more to help people? Fine. We can always do better. But the work you’ve done up to this point hasn’t been wasted; I’m sure there are dozens of people grateful that you were there for them in their time of need… You should be proud of that.”

A long moment passed as she glared into his shocked, steel-grey eyes. Ruby saw something click as her message got through to him. His expression softened in understanding, a tiny smile quirking his lips upwards.

“I see your meaning,” the pilot said reflectively. “Pilot or huntsman, we all face failure. I am a fool for thinking my work useless or inadequate for not achieving perfection.”

Ruby smiled. “Spoken like a true Mistrallan.”

He chuckled. “Indeed.”

Her fists loosened, earth dropping to the ground. She wiped her hand against her leg, scooting away to give him his space. Glancing up, she saw that the moon was still high in the sky. “You should get some sleep,” she said kindly.

“It is still my watch, Huntress.”

She shook her head. “I’m not tired right now. Might as well let you rest.”

She was tired, actually. Exhausted. But she doubted she’d find any sleep tonight.

“You are sure?” Though concerned for her, she could see his eyes flitting toward the makeshift bedroll they’d made for him.

She waved him off with a smile, tucking her chin up on her knee. The pilot was quick to tuck himself underneath the covers, his breathing slowing into the regular cadence of slumber mere minutes after.

Alone at last, Ruby sighed.

She hadn’t lied to the man. Every life was worth it – she’d never be able to go on as a huntress if she didn’t truly believe so. Their work benefited countless people, giving them the opportunity to live and find their own happiness. But…

Within the flames, hidden amidst the coals and embers, eyes bright and accusing stared back at her, and she couldn’t help but doubt.

X_0_X

Sun’s anxiety was starting to rub off on him.

“—knew things would go wrong when she took that mission…”

Scarlet David shot a sideways glance toward his partner Sage. They’d just ushered out the representative from the Mistral council, silently expressing their gratitude while Sun ranted in the background.

“—should have said something…!”

They’d returned to the kitchen amidst the clamor, Sun’s voice cracking like it hadn’t since their years at Haven. Scarlet eyed the stain on the far wall with trepidation, ceramic shards littering the floor: the remains of a mug of cocoa Scarlet brewed for Sun while the official delivered his message. At the table, Sage scowled into his cereal, deep in thought while they processed the news.

At least, Scarlet would be processing the news if he didn’t have to listen to the increasingly-loud, increasingly-hysterical dulcet tones of their team leader.

His partner’s fingers clenched around his spoon, unnatural strength gifted to him by his semblance beginning to warp the weak metal. If Scarlet didn’t intercede soon then more things were going to break and this time, he’d need more than a broom and dustpan to clean it all up…

“Sun,” Scarlet cut in finally, grimacing as bloodshot eyes snapped toward him. Sun’s posture screamed Hostile in a way he was deeply uncomfortable with seeing directed his way. Suddenly putting an end to his tirade seemed much more daunting. “I…”

No, idiot! Don’t lose it now! His hands wrung underneath the table. “Ruby’s going to be okay. You know that, right?”

Scarlet berated himself. Stupid! ‘What kind of weak comfort was that?!’

“No, I don’t, and you… don’t know either, Scarlet,” Sun snapped. The blonde swayed on the spot, hand rising to his temple briefly. Scarlet’s lips thinned. Sun hadn’t been sleeping well for days, even after Ruby forced him to lay down. “You… and me, we don’t know shit right now, we…” Sun’s face twisted, his eyes widening slightly. Scarlet could read the signs of vertigo as easily as if they were emblazoned in neon.

Scarlet was out of his seat instantly, slinging an arm around Sun’s torso as his legs failed him. Scarlet lowered his teammate to the floor slowly, allowing the blonde’s forehead to rest on his shoulder.

The faunus was still muttering to himself as Scarlet eased him into a seated position, back to the wall with his head between his knees. Scarlet was all business; checking his pulse, temperature, and anything else he could think of. Sage joined him, holding Sun’s shoulder steady. The spoon he’d been using was a twisted mess in his other, clenched, fist.

“…can’t…” Sun muttered faintly.

Sage growled angrily. “He needs sleep.”

“I know, Sage.”

“Well why can’t he fucking do it then! He’s been laying down for hours!”

Scarlet frowned at his partner, shoving down the same thoughts brewing in the back of his mind guiltily. “He’s got a condition Sage. It’s not his fault.”

“I know! I just…” the spoon clattered on the wood flooring. Sage ran his hand through his hair, expression tight with frustration. “Dust, Scarlet, he’s killing himself like this.”

Sun continued to mumble, eyes focused on nothing. Scarlet watched his leader sorrowfully, wishing he could do more. He didn’t have any answers for Sage; his partner spoke to their shared fears.

What if Sun died? What would they do? Losing Neptune nearly destroyed them all, and Scarlet knew that losing Sun would be even worse. Every time they went out on assignments it lingered in the back of his mind: would this be the moment Sun made a fatal mistake? Would all that missed sleep finally do him in?

All it took was a moment of inattention. A moment of dull reflexes. He and Sage couldn’t be there all the time, watching his back. Their work didn’t allow it.

Worse, he had no answers for Sun either. Not until Ruby got back alive and well. The alternative…

He didn’t like thinking about that.

“Look,” Scarlet breathed out through his nose. “Sun’s not going to get anything done like this. If you bring him to his room, we can have him take a few of those pills the doctor gave him. I’ll go over to Ruby’s place and get it ready for her to come back so he doesn’t freak out.”

“You know he hates those things.”

Don’t remind him. “They fuck him up, and he won’t be able to go on assignments for a few days after, but he’s going to hurt himself or start really messing with his body if we don’t do something,” Scarlet countered. “I’ll take the heat if he blows up about it later.”

The dark-haired man considered it, a fearsome scowl contorting his features, before he gave in with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll keep an eye on him and make sure he stays put.” Sage lifted Sun into a bridal carry, adjusting the weight with a grunt. “When you’re done, can you give the doctor a call and give him an update?”

“Done.” Scarlet got to his feet, already going over a short list in his head of what he’d need to do at Ruby’s before returning home. Before Sage left with him, he gave Sun’s wrist a quick squeeze, which went completely ignored as the faunus continued muttering to himself.

It was dark outside when Scarlet stepped out of the house, the moon and its many satellites glowing silver-white against the void. He shivered, tucking his hands deep into his pockets against the cold, wondering if Ruby was stuck out in the wild in the middle of this kind of weather.

He wasn’t close with the little reaper – not like Sun was – but she made a point of befriending everyone she could, and he’d been among the first she’d sought out in Mistral when she immigrated from the newly-recovered city of Vale. Friends of Sun were friends of hers, she’d said.

He and Sage had shared bemusement that such a tiny, tired-looking slip of a girl could be the charismatic leader Sun had described her as… until they challenged her to a fight and got their asses handed to them on a silver platter.

Scarlet now had a healthy respect for that murder-scythe she had – unironically – nicknamed ‘Sweetheart.’ Sage even had a faint scar across his back from his short-lived duel with the girl, where she’d cloven through his aura after wearing him down with her – frankly unfair – speed and avoidance tactics.

A loss was a loss, however, and both he and Sage had quickly gotten over their disappointment once they realized just how sweet a person Ruby was. She was kind, too. Confident. Friendly. Sociable… and just like his leader, damaged.

He saw it in the little slips she made; the flash of naked emotion when she heard the wrong music, the topics they’d learned to avoid bringing up, the late nights she and Sun would share together, just talking or texting, when sleep was elusive… Scarlet knew what it was like to lose a teammate. He could relate to her loss and admired her tenacity and will to move forward… it was inspiring to see in person.

But she was damaged in a way he couldn’t help. Just like Sun.

As he unlocked the door to her home, using the key he’d borrowed from Sun’s ring (itself foisted on him by the energetic reaper), Scarlet could only hope he wasn’t cleaning up for someone who would never arrive.

X_0_X

In the grey pre-dawn light, they cleared up their makeshift camp in record time.

Ruby’s eyes burned with fatigue as she crammed her bedroll into her pack, rolling it over her shoulders and tightening down the straps. Nearby, Kohroku fiddled with his dirtied uniform, eyes bright and alert. He’d snapped awake the moment she’d touched his shoulder, sunrise only minutes away.

They’d scarfed down a cold breakfast; jerky and dried fruit with a few precious mouthfuls of water to sate their appetites. Her leg complained all the while, the bandages probably needing to be changed, but there was no time.

She gave the distress beacon, retrieved from Kohroku’s survival kit the night before, one more examination to make sure it was still working. Check.

Map. Pouches. Crescent Rose. Heron. Pocket-knife. Canteen. All check.

“Let’s go,” Ruby said brusquely, just before the sky lit up with the sun’s arrival.

They froze momentarily, adjusting to the change in the light. Then, howls split the air, far too close. Ruby had hoped to put a few miles distance between them and the Grimm before they’d awaken, but she’d let the pilot sleep too long.

If they died for her mistake…

“Huntress?”

“I said let’s go!” she barked, ignoring her trepidation and breaking into a measured jog. Kohroku joined her, matching her pace easily with experience born of military training. It was a pace designed to eat up the miles with a minimum of rest. On her injured leg, Ruby knew it wasn’t sustainable in the long term, but they needed to put some distance between themselves and the Grimm before their trail was discovered.

Kohroku’s measured breathing soon synched up with her own as they moved steadily north, feet crunching through the undergrowth. He trusted her to guide them to safety. Even with something as innocuous as setting their pace. Trusted her measure of her own capabilities, and her estimation of his.

Her resolve hardened.

She wouldn’t fail that trust. They would live. She would make sure of it.

X_0_X

“Everyone’s got their weapons ready? Coco, you’ve got enough ammo?”

“Locked and loaded, Vel.”

“Fox, you’ve got all the medical supplies prepped?”

“All set!”

“Yatsu—”

“I am physically and mentally prepared for this endeavor, Velvet,” Yatsuhashi smiled, serene and towering with his curved buster sword resting on his shoulder. The giant hardly looked bothered by the weight.

Their airship shuddered again, their haste pushing it to the very limits of its capabilities. Velvet ignored it, all her focus on her team. “And I’m all set…” she muttered to herself, fingering the short sword at her waist – a compromise she’d made with Coco after an especially prolonged battle that saw her run out of pictures to fuel Anesidora.

Coco reached around Fox to pat her on the shoulder. “Hey now,” the brunette soothed, her tone at odds with the cocky smirk adorning her lips. “We’re almost there. Ruby’s going to be fine and you’ll see that you had nothing to worry about.”

“I know…” Her long, brown ears flattened over her skull, twitching in response to her nervousness. She never could control the damn things…

“Undue stress may inhibit your performance, Velvet,” Yatsuhashi counselled. “Relax and marshal your energies for when you must act.”

That didn’t help her feel better at all. “…Okay?”

“Just focus on breathing.”

Better. Velvet immersed herself in the exercises her team had walked her through since their days at Beacon, the better to handle her anxiety. In. Out.

Turbulence rattled the ship again. This time, something behind them groaned, then fizzled, then going dead silent. This of course set off an alarm that grated on her ears and completely destroyed Velvet’s concentration.

Fox coughed. “Think that was important?”

“Pilot?” Velvet called, partly annoyed, partly relieved for the distraction.

“It’s nothing worth troubling yourselves over,” the pilot responded over the intercom, professionally calm. “Ship’s not made to go this fast for so long, she’s starting to feel the strain. We’ll get her looked at once we’re back in Mistral.”

The alarm continued to blare.

“Er, we’ll turn that off for you.”

The sound died. Velvet and Fox exchanged bemused looks, and the redhead shrugged. If they were okay with it…?

“How far to go before we start our search?” Coco called up to the cockpit.

“We’re picking up on Grimm signatures a few klicks south of here. You might want to get ready to go in case they’re after your target.”

They each straightened, hands going to weapons and supplies in one last check. Velvet felt her heartrate begin to rise, her breathing hastening to match the adrenaline entering her bloodstream. This was it. More than any average assignment, this mission had serious consequences.

Do or die. Or, do or Ruby dies…

“Alright CFVY,” Coco barked. Velvet flinched, breaking out of her thoughts. She looked at the brunette, at her leader, for direction. “We’re on a time limit for this one, and we don’t know the countdown. Our job is to extract Ruby and whoever else she’s with and get out. If they’re split up, we’ll track down whoever’s missing. Nothing more, and nothing less – we’re not here to get bogged down fighting Grimm if we can help it.”

They nodded seriously, Fox and Yatsuhashi with expressions hard as stone. Velvet drew strength from them, letting their resolve fill her. They had their mission. She could do this. They could do this.

“Velvet, you and Fox take point. Yatsuhashi and I will draw the pack’s attention and hold them off while you secure the targets and get them to safety.”

“Aye aye!”

“Got it Coco.”

“Grimm signatures confirmed,” the pilot spoke over the intercom. “A large Beowolf pack is massing to the south. They’re converging on a smaller signature – Mistral standard distress beacon. That’ll be our missing pilot. Fifteen seconds to the drop zone.”

Velvet stood, drawing her short sword in one hand and taking hold of one of the overhead handles with the other. Her team lined up beside her as the door slid open mechanically, freezing wind filling the fuselage and scattering Velvet’s hair.

Should have tied it back…

With her enhanced hearing she could hear the faint pounding footfalls of dozens of Grimm below, as well as the punctuating sound of gunshots. One, low powered and quiet, the other the loud and distinctive ‘crack!’ of a rifle.

Ruby… Thank Dust.

“You’re above the drop zone now. Good luck huntsmen.”

Velvet steeled herself and leapt.

X_0_X

Two hours.

A part of Ruby felt proud of how long they’d kept ahead of the pack, given their late start and the odds stacked against them. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, she’d disregarded the pain flaring in her leg completely (as well as the twinging she felt in the other) and pressed onwards, Kohroku right beside her as they trekked northward.

It wasn’t to last, however. The first Grimm finally overcame their position an hour prior, and they’d been just barely keeping ahead of the teeth nipping at their heels since. When they needed a moment to rest, they would sprint forward, Ruby pressing into her semblance to give them the extra distance they needed. That would give them maybe a minute to breathe and take a drink before they were forced to start moving once more.

The bulk of the pack was further behind them, the massing Grimm much slower to traverse the dense woodland than the two humans. The fastest Grimm quickly died, bisected by Crescent Rose with nary more than a whimper.

She was fairly certain survival of the fittest wasn’t supposed to work that way, but she’d never been the most attentive student in biology.

Unfortunately, their numbers continued to grow. Ruby could feel the fatigue spreading through her limbs like poison. She’d been forced to relax the efficient march already, and each brief skirmish with the encroaching Beowolves sapped her of aura and stamina.

Kohroku panted as they came to another rest. Ruby pressed her forehead into a nearby tree trunk, relishing in the cool, smooth bark.

“We can’t maintain this pace, Huntress,” the pilot croaked, taking a quick swig from his canteen.

“I know,” Ruby replied tiredly. “We’ve just got to hold on until your beacon gets someone’s attention. We’re bound to get lucky soon.”

She believed those words. She did. Mistral was an efficient kingdom – and it had learned its lesson after the massacre of its huntsmen population a decade prior. It wouldn’t leave them to die. They just had to keep moving.

Ruby breathed deeply. “Alright, break time’s over. We’ve got to move.”

“Right.”

The man replaced his canteen on his belt, but Ruby’s eyes were drawn to the side, where hateful orbs glared from the thick foliage. They locked, silver and crimson, and several things happened at once.

Crescent Rose unfolded in a glory of sliding metal, not even completing its transformation before she swung upwards to intercept the pouncing Grimm. Ruby’s senses screamed at her to turn however – it was an ambush; they’d been encircled at some point, some of the faster Grimm of the pack swinging wide to overtake them and intercept their path ahead of the rest. Simple, but terribly clever, and terribly deadly for the two.

Meanwhile, off in the distance, Ruby picked up the faint, familiar sound of an approaching airship. She didn’t have the time to consider this, however. She poured her aura into her attack – into Crescent Rose specifically – praying it would be fast enough to catch the other two Beowolves behind her before they slammed into her and her companion.

The first died easily; impaled through the throat by her reactionary swing. The second died on the follow-through, its paltrily-armored chest ripped open by the murderous blade. She was too slow to stop the third, however.

Kohroku cried out as the beast crashed into him in a flash of shattering aura, one hand shielding his face and the other firing his tiny pistol into the Beowolf’s guts. Ruby finished the beast right as he hit the ground, Crescent Rose’s mournful song punctured by the sound of snapping bone and the pilot’s pained gasp.

The Beowolf dissolved immediately, revealing the pilot cradling his misshapen leg with a bloody arm. Ruby knelt beside him immediately. “Shit,” she muttered angrily, examining the injury.

Luckily the break was clean and hadn’t broken skin, while his arm was only scratched up and not seriously damaged. Unluckily, the injury was still easily bad enough to prevent him from walking any distance on his own.

Ruby stared at the broken limb for several seconds, ever mindful of the quickly diminishing gap between them and the pack…

She couldn’t carry him.

They’d last a minute if she did – if she used her semblance, at least. But she would be too slow otherwise and they’d be overtaken easily. And should she tap the last dregs of her aura she’d be totally drained from the effort, in no shape to defend them.

“Okay. Okay,” she muttered, forcing her mind into high-gear. Running was no longer an option. Her reserves were perilously low, both of body and soul. Fighting was looking like a worse option by the moment… They were only Beowolves though, she could make a stand and try to – she could buy time for the airship to circle back around and drop the huntsmen, she could probably manage that much… Probably. They had the numbers to overwhelm her – but if they played with their food then she had a chance.

“Huntress.”

“You’re going to be alright Kohroku,” she said stubbornly, a plan quickly taking shape in her head. Hopefully the Alpha of the pack – there had to be one, Beowolves weren’t smart enough to strategize on their own, and that ambush, while simple, was evidence enough – hopefully it would hang back while its underlings tested her…

“Ruby, you must run.”

What?

“What?” she hissed. “No, I’m not abandoning you! I can hold them off until the huntsmen arrive.”

The pilot cringed as he sat up straight. “No, that’s not what I meant,” he grunted and shook his head, frustrated. “You are exhausted – if the pack comes up on us then you will die; they will swarm you and there will be nothing you can do about it. Hide me and run – draw their attention, buy time until the huntsmen can deal with the pack.”

Ruby stared at him.

Kohroku glared. “Hurry! Unless you have a better idea?”

…She didn’t. Ruby cursed internally that she hadn’t thought of it herself. While she loathed the idea of leaving the pilot behind, his plan was sound, and more likely to succeed than playing on the arrogance of the Grimm.

But he would be alone. Injured. The pistol he carried was hardly enough to protect him should one Beowolf come across him, much less dozens, or the whole pack…

Dust damnit…! Why could nothing go right for once?

Fuming and frustrated, Ruby slung his arm over her shoulder, half-carrying the heavy Mistrallan to a nearby tree deeply set into a nearby hillock. There were plenty of spaces amongst the roots that would fit the pilot; Ruby chose one hidden behind the densest foliage, hoping the camouflage would be enough. The limited cover it offered would buy him time before the Grimm doubled back to scent him out.

Letting him sink into the recess, Ruby shuddered, picturing Kohroku’s face alongside the villagers, Bai and Bryce…

No.

He would survive. She would distract the Grimm and he would be rescued. For good measure, Ruby handed him the beacon, knowing that the others would be able to find her by following the Grimm.

“I’ll be back,” she promised, pausing before she left.

“Be safe, Huntress,” the pilot said solemnly, sagging against the trunk.

Ruby smiled shakily at him, feeling exhaustion tugging at her limbs. “I will.”

The pilot nodded, gripping his pistol with white knuckles, his other hand inside the small pack of rounds at his waist. Nothing that would stop a determined Grimm for long, but perhaps enough to buy a few seconds for the rescue team to arrive.

Without another word, Ruby took off from the hideaway. Pointing Crescent Rose in the air, she squeezed the trigger twice, feeling the familiar jolt along its haft as the dust rounds screamed into the sky.

Howling and bestial snarls filled the air – too close! - and Ruby felt the attention turn towards her. Distraction achieved. Dark shapes pounded through the forest like a massive, malevolent wave just behind her.

Folding Crescent Rose up to stow at her waist, Ruby poured what residual aura she had left into her semblance, warping the air around her in her desperate bid to put as much distance between herself and Kohroku as possible. Pain shot up her legs within seconds, pooling in the desiccating flesh, bruises and cuts she’d sustained over the last day. The blackened flesh of her ankle seared so badly that her entire leg threatened to give out with every step.

The Grimm howled. The heavy pounding of their feet behind her felt far too close. She poured on the speed, fighting back the agony.

Automatic fire rang out in the forest behind her, a few dozen yards from Kohroku’s hiding place. Huntsmen. They would find Kohroku and get him to safety. Her own trail would be easy to find. Just follow the Grimm.

Branches snapped behind her. Ruby felt her semblance shudder. Without warning, the last of her aura withered away, reserves totally exhausted, and she stumbled as a new wave of soul-deep fatigue washed over her. Her cloak fluttered in the weak breeze she’d created, spilling out a stream of rose petals around her.

Dive.

Muted pain bloomed in her shoulder, jolting through the rest of her body as she rolled by sheer instinct. The massive, shadowy bulk of a leaping Beowulf sailed over her just as she came up to her feet.

Turn. Slash.

Crescent Rose unfolded with a metallic ‘schink,’ its menacing song splitting the air as she swung it around.

The two halves of the now-neatly bisected Beowolf crumpled to the ground, though Ruby spared them no mind, bringing Crescent Rose back around in a wide arc. The Grimm pursuing her skidded to a halt to avoid the wicked blade, fanning out to encircle her.

Her weapon gleamed eagerly in the low light. The simple sight of the blade comforted her. Resetting her grip on the snath and taking in the circle of foes, Ruby took a few calming breaths. She met the eyes of the largest Grimm in the pack – a Beowolf larger than its fellows and covered in lean muscle, sporting the dull, boney armor all its kind were known for.

It bore several scars along its body; results of territorial fighting with other Grimm, and a few distinctive signs of huntsmen weaponry. This was the Alpha, then. Older, stronger, and more cunning than the younger Grimm surrounding her.

The pack awaited their Alpha’s command. The gunshots – now accompanied by the sound of blades parting flesh and bone – were drawing near.

The Alpha snarled, and Ruby tensed her body in anticipation.

Whirl. Slice up, across the body. Down. Right. Follow through. Reverse, and leap!

Several Beowolves died, their foul, reeking blood watering the earth.

Instincts drilled into her by Beacon’s training and years of professional experience reigned over her body in full force. Ruby relished in the experience of simply surrendering to them, exhaustion for now forgotten - of giving over to the pulse in her veins and the whirling, energetic dance she and Crescent Rose performed as their foes streamed toward them.

Left. Back. Right. Follow through. Sweep. BACK.

The Alpha leapt at Ruby, interrupting her rhythm. Every instinct in her screamed to get away as the beast crashed into where she’d been mere moments ago. It snarled, furious as it swatted at the fluttering rose petals she left in her wake, her cloak fluttering to a halt behind her.

The Alpha charged her position again Dive and Ruby slammed the transformation switch on Crescent Rose as she came up on one knee, already taking aim at its flank.

The forest trembled as the Alpha growled low in its throat, shrugging off the dust rounds that would have staggered a lesser Grimm and leaping at her again.

Dive. LEFT!

“Argh!”

Ruby howled as the Alpha’s paw slammed into her ribcage, having anticipated her movements. The small amount of aura she’d regenerated prevented it from crushing her entirely, but she felt the harsh fire of wicked-sharp claws gouging new lines into her side, and the deep pulsing throb of bruised ribs.

The blow sent her reeling on the ground, Crescent Rose clattering to the ground nearby.

GET UP MOVE DO SOMETHING THOSE WHO FALL IN COMBAT DIE.

Her head came up blearily as her senses flared intensely. She could sense the Alpha in her peripheral vision as it turned around for another charge. Could hear the triumphant howls of its pack in the background.

More howls and snarling further away, near the gunshots.

MOVE, RUBY!

Her eyes settled on Crescent Rose, alone on the ground. Her arms reached out, fingers brushing the snath, wrapping around its cool, comforting touch.

DON’T LOOK AWAY FROM IT, YOU DOLT!

Painfully slowly, she pulled Crescent Rose back to her, both hands gripping it with white-knuckled fervor. Silver eyes met malevolent crimson as the Alpha barreled toward her. Time became a crawl, and the whole world dropped away. Just the Hunter and its Prey. Everything diminished to shades of grey, save the burning orbs locked on her own.

Thump.

Slavering jaws closed around Crescent Rose, jolting her entire body backwards as the Alpha’s momentum carried them across the clearing. She held her arms ramrod-straight against it, holding the monstrous beast back from closing its fearsome jaws around her head and ending the fight.

Thump.

Her back slammed into the solid bulk of a tree. Ruby whimpered as pain shot through her entire body, arms bending under the concentrated force.

Thump.

Her heartbeat throbbed in her ears as her body strained against the Alpha. Three hundred pounds of dense muscle and inhuman fury bore down on her.

Thump.

Ruby gritted her teeth, every muscle in her body on fire.

Thump.

‘I’m going to die.’

Thump.

Her eyes widened, tears pooling over the silver lakes that had drawn her into this life. Her arms burned.

Thump.

‘Please no! Not like this! Not after everything!’

Thump.

Crescent Rose descended. Ruby could feel the Grimm’s humid, disgusting breath on her face as it overpowered her.

Thump.

‘Be strong, Ruby.’

Thump.

‘I’m sorry, Mom. I’m not strong enough this time…’

Just as her arms were about to give out, a gunshot rang through the clearing with startling sharpness. The weight on Ruby’s arms disappeared and Crescent Rose clattered into her lap as the Alpha staggered away from her with a pained yelp, the soft tendons behind one of its’ kneecaps pulped by the shot, to meet the new combatants.

Ruby stared at her hands, imprinted ugly red and white from Crescent Rose pressing into them. Without the Alpha dominating her senses it felt like the entire world had fallen away.

Thump.

The fighting seemed to grow distant, though a new sound replaced it. Steady footsteps, heavy and muffled against the ground. Ruby looked up and saw another Beowolf, smaller, younger, weaker, and no longer held back by the command of its Alpha.

The two locked eyes, icy despair rolling down Ruby’s spine as it snarled and lunged at her.

Up.

Crescent Rose whipped upwards, but too slow. Exhausted by the struggle with the Alpha, Ruby could only watch in impotent horror as the Beowolf ducked underneath the sloppy strike and closed its jaws around her forearm.

Thump.

Agony shot up past her shoulder, bone crunching beneath the razor-sharp teeth digging into corded muscle with all of the force of a bear trap. Ruby screamed and tried to pull her arm back from the Grimm, only to feel her voice die out into a whimper as the action tore flesh from bone.

Thu-ump.

Pleased with its success, the Beowolf released her arm and backed up a step, before darting forward to bat an oversized paw against Ruby’s head. The blow knocked her senseless, and she slumped limply against the tree, letting the Grimm inspect its prize.

Thump.

Pain. Dull spots of black and white danced across Ruby’s vision. Her head throbbed in time to her heartbeat, so loud in her ears. Dazed, deathly afraid, and lacking any other options to protect herself, Ruby drew her knees up to her chest and cradled her mangled arm against herself, ignoring the hot, sticky blood fitfully spurting and desperately trying to block out the pain signals everything was sending to her brain.

Distant crashes, pops, splintered wood and horrid cracks. All was nothing to the throb of her pounding pulse in her ears.

Thump.

Seconds passed.

Thump.

…

Thump.

Why wasn’t she dead yet?

Ruby cracked open her eyes weakly, before slamming them shut with a whimper. Everything hurt, and even the soft, filtered of midmorning was more than enough to set her head throbbing.

Thump.

She could hear something, just barely, over the pounding of her heart. Distant and indistinct. Something soft touched her shoulder and she cringed, expecting death at any moment.

“-by? Ruby!”

The touch on her shoulder tightened, another similar feeling appearing on the other shoulder. Hands. They shook Ruby, jostling her arm and her head. She whimpered pitifully, willing the presence away.

Thump.

“Velvet, stop! You’re going to hurt her more.”

“Oh Dust, Ruby, I’m so sorry! Fox, can you go get Yatsu over here with one of those stretchers? She needs medical attention ASAP.”

“On it. Keep an ear out though, no telling whether that pack will be back or not.”

Ruby felt her heartbeat recede as her other senses returned. The hands on her shoulder disappeared, as well as the nauseating shaking. Her whole head rang, her chest tight like a drum, the pulsating echo against it a memory of the pounding throb it had been mere seconds ago.

“You’re gonna be alright, Ruby. We’ve got you now. You’re going to be alright.”

Were she in a better state, Ruby might have been concerned by how watery the voice sounded. But as it was, it was all she could do to merely keep a hold on consciousness. She distantly heard the sound of fabric ripping. She didn’t question it until gentle hands pulled her mangled arm away from her chest and swiftly wrapped it up in something soft.

Ruby’s vision flashed red as the hands roughly tightened the makeshift bandage, bone grinding together and blood continuing to gush hot and sticky. Her ears rang, and it wasn’t until she heard the voice again soothing her again that she realized that her throat was now raw from her screaming.

The huntress withdrew in on herself, ignoring the voice. The pain. A trickle of blood ran down her cheek from her temple, warm on her clammy skin.

“Hey! You’ve got her?”

“Over here Yatsu, quickly!”

Ruby heard heavy footsteps approaching her, her heart clenching in momentary panic as memories of the Beowolves sprung to mind.

“Dust… Velvet, what happened to her?”

“She was savaged by a Beowolf… We thought she would be safe while we dealt with the Alpha, but one of the smaller ones got to her while we were distracted.”

“Help me get her on the stretcher.”

Large, calloused hands slipped below her armpits, brushing against her bruised ribs. Smaller hands – the ones she’d felt earlier, appeared below her knees to ease her into a lying position. Ruby endured the motion with grit teeth, every ounce of fortitude she possessed dedicated to not vomiting from the sudden vertigo rushing through her.

She felt a brief surge of weightlessness, before her back met something soft. The touches disappeared, and her nausea receded. For a moment she languished, everything was growing numb and grey. Ruby cracked her eyes open to look at her rescuers, and through her pain felt a deep sense of relief upon seeing them.

“You’re going to be alright, Ruby,” Velvet whispered to her as she picked up her end of the stretcher. Her warm, brown eyes were wet with unshed tears as she looked down on the cloaked huntress. Yatsuhashi led the way back to the Bullhead in silence.

Ruby wanted to ask so many questions, each flying around her spinning mind like pinballs, but settled on the simplest. “Velvet?” she rasped.

The faunus smiled weakly down at her. “Yeah, it’s me, Ruby.”

“What’re you doing here?”

“Rescuing you, silly. What do you think?” Velvet teased gently.

“I… oh. That’s good… Is Kohroku… is he alright? You found him, right?” Why was it so hard to think?

Velvet frowned. Ruby didn’t see it, her eyes were scrunched shut again against her headache… it felt as though the Beowolf was there again, kicking her skull like a perverse football. “The pilot?” the faunus asked. “Fox will have him on the airship by now, I think. We lost a minute getting to you just pulling the pack’s attention away from him. He’s a little roughed up, but he should recover.”

Ruby gritted her teeth. “T-that’s good.”

She opened her eyes again, but that was a mistake. Her vision swam sickeningly, red and grey and pulsing in time with her headache. “Velvet,” she gasped.

“We’re almost there Ruby, just hold on.” The words came out pained.

“W-why does it hurt so much?”

She wanted to curl up into a ball, but her body would not obey her. Blood already seeped out of the makeshift bandage around her arm. Ruby could feel it, hot and sticky on her stomach, smelling like old coins to her fading senses.

“I’m so s—Fox!” Ruby whimpered at the yell. “Get over here! Ruby needs medical attention, now!”

What followed quickly turned into a blur as her rescuers burst into a jog. Ruby distantly noticed when they came to a stop; she was lowered to the ground and gentle hands marked with callouses moved all over her body, testing bones and bruises and moving her arm away from her chest…!

“Sorry Ruby,” the owner of the hands – Fox – muttered after she’d stopped screaming, her abused vocal cords finally failing her.

“Is she going to be alright?”

“Don’t worry about her, hun. Fox here will take care of Ruby – you just sit tight and don’t move that leg.”

“Her legs are going to need some attention,” a deep voice commented quietly.

“One thing at a time, Yatsu. She’s going to bleed out if I don’t work on her arm first.”

She was feeling kind of cold… Ruby felt something tight wrapping around her arm – her muddled thoughts reached for the term – tourn…? – but it slipped away before she could properly grasp it.

“Alright Ruby, I’m really sorry but there’s no way around it. I need to properly check out your arm and set the bones before I can do an aura transfer.” Ruby didn’t like the sound of that. “Velvet, have her bite down on this.”

A thick strip of… something. Leather? Was pressed between Ruby’s teeth. What was…?

“Alright Ruby, on three I’m going to remove the bandage.”

Oh no.

“One.”

This was going to suck, deep breaths, deep breaths.

“Two.” Fox deftly removed the wrapping and Ruby’s vision throbbed red and black. She groaned piteously into the gag. What had happened to three?!

“Three.”

Oh, there it waaaaaa—PainpainPAIN erupted in Ruby’s ARM and she was screaming into the leather teeth GRINDING down ohDUSTmakeitstop and HER world went black.

X_0_X

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter - some of my favorite things I've ever written are in here, actually - so I hope you all enjoyed.

One thing I'd like to make a note about early on is that this story takes place in a dubious continuation of the canon. I decided early on to make the executive decision to make V5's finale the hard cutoff between Canon and The Last Rose. Before that point, the closer things get to the end of V5 the murkier things get - I had different priorities in writing this than Canon RWBY had in their narrative, so things like the Relics and Salem will take a backseat to the Grimm and the fallout of the Fall of Vale in this story, if they get mentioned at all.

I wanted to write a story about Huntsman, about Grimm, about the fallout from the Fall of Vale, and about Ruby as a character. I'm not one of those people who feel like she's had zero development in canon, but I did want to explore her character more myself. Where those goals conflicted with the canon, I defenestrated the canon with a smile.

Please leave a review! Would love to hear some feedback on this story.

#TheLastRose #Valasania the Pale #My stories #RWBY #Ruby Rose #CFVY #Chapter Three #Please reblog #Last chapter got literally zero response #If the same happens here I probably won't bother to continue posting to tumblr

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diamondsareapearlsbestfriend · 4 years

Text

Deck the Halls With Doom

ZADR // 1.4k // based on this holiday classic // AO3

By now, Dib was pretty used to being woken up in the middle of the night by the thwack of something hitting his window – tacos, rubber pigs, rocks with Irken profanities – but were those flowers? That was a new one.

Grabbing his glasses from the nightstand, he stumbled out of bed and down the stairs, pulling his coat on over his pyjamas as he opened the door – and stepped right into a thick blanket of mistletoe. The entire street was covered in the stuff; it hung from every window and doorway, falling off roofs and clogging up chimneys. And it didn’t take long to figure out where it was coming from: merrily ploughing through the leaf-filled road was some kind of tank with three rotating cannons, ruthlessly pumping out mistletoe under the questionable command of a very familiar-looking...

“Zim?”

“Ah! Dib-stink!” His alien nemesis waved like the world’s worst Christmas float, eyes lighting up with malicious glee. “You’re just in time to witness Zim’s complete and total annihilation of your miserable dirt-clod!”

“With mistle – whoa!” Dib just managed to duck before a bullet-like barrage of mistletoe smacked him in the face, hitting the door instead. “Didn’t you already try the whole stealing Christmas thing?” Even by Zim’s twisted logic, this was a weird way to do it. It was a big mess, sure, and could probably cause a couple road accidents, but unless all the mistletoe was rigged to explode, this was way down the list of diabolical schemes.

Zim seemed satisfied, however, as he hopped off the vehicle, looking over his leafy kingdom proudly with his hands on his hips. “Take the wheel, GIR!”

“I would, buuut I eated it!” GIR yelled, waving cheerfully as he dangled from one of the cannons from the tail of his dog disguise.

“...Yes.” Zim pursed his lips, only looking briefly concerned as the tank and GIR rolled out of sight before turning his attention back to Dib's question. “So it may seem, to inferior minds like yours! But that was –”

“...a total failure?”

“Only phase one of my master plan!” he continued, undeterred. “As soon as the rest of your fellow Earth-monkeys step outside, they will have no choice but to fight, as the mistle-foe dictates! Before long, they’ll destroy each other, and your pathetic planet will surely perish at the merciless hands of Zim!”

Well, that made...even less sense than usual. Dib lifted a sceptical eyebrow. “Zim, how does that even – do you think people fight under mistletoe?”

“Eh?” Zim paused mid-maniacal cackle, his eyes narrowing in irritation. “Obviously! Are you unfamiliar with the pointless practices of even your own kind, Dib-worm? What other function could this mistle-foe possibly serve?”

Dib just stared at him for a moment, and then he started to laugh – and couldn’t stop, thanks to the increasing bewilderment of Zim’s expression, until he was doubled over, clutching his sides and cackling like a madman. “Oh my god, Zim, you – you are the galaxy’s biggest idiot!”

For a split second, Zim looked genuinely crestfallen, his face crumpling to a puzzled pout before he let out a strangled kind of growl.

“Cease the bellowing of your stinky meat-hole!” he demanded, kicking up mistletoe as he marched over. “Impossible! Then what is the purpose of these plants? Explain yourself, human!”

“Okay, okay…” Dib took a deep breath, managing to compose himself. “First of all, it’s not like I invented mistletoe. And actually what most people call mistletoe isn’t technically – but anyway, not the point. You’re supposed to – I mean, people usually…” He cleared his throat, laughter petering out as he felt his face grow warm under the unrelenting laser beam of Zim’s eyes. “Kiss.”

“...Kiss?!” Zim echoed, recoiling in horror as his face contorted into a grimace like he’d just stepped on a Lego and bit into a lemon at the same time. “You’re lying!”

“Why would I make that up?!”

“Zim sees straight through your ruse, Dib-filth!” He jabbed an accusing claw into Dib’s chest, although it wasn’t quite as intimidating now the top of his wig barely came up to his chin. “You’ve wanted this for a long time, haven’t you?”

“I...what?” Was he actually saying – man, this was starting to feel way too much like one of Dib’s more...confusing dreams, scarlet now blazing across his face to the tips of his ears. “That’s insane – I mean, more insane than usual! I don’t wanna kiss you!” Zim would probably be a terrible kisser anyway – not that he’d thought about it before, and he definitely wasn’t thinking about it now and they needed to terminate this conversation immediately.

“Is that so?” Zim took a step closer, barely an inch now between them. Dib tensed, a shiver that maybe wasn’t strictly the cold tingling down his spine as Zim placed a hand on his shoulder, his expression shifting into a smirk that was both dangerously familiar and new in a way he couldn’t quite explain. “Then how do you explain...this!”

“Ow - quit it!” Before Dib could pull away, Zim reached up and yanked at his hair, throwing a sprig of mistletoe back in his face with totally unjustified triumph. “Oh, c’mon – you just shot me with that!”

Zim scoffed as if to say yeah, right, but he still didn’t move out of Dib’s space. “The mistle-foe has spoken! We will battle – with our mouths!”

“That’s stupid and there’s no way I’mmmmph...!”

Dib was abruptly and painfully cut off as Zim seized him by the collar and pulled him down, sinking his sharp teeth straight into his bottom lip. He let out a muffled yelp, instinctively grabbing Zim’s jaw in an attempt to prise him off, but somehow they melted into – well, a kiss, heated and messy, way too much teeth and tongue. Zim’s hand snaked around Dib’s shoulder to the nape of his neck, digging his claws into the tender spot right on the threshold of pain and pleasure; Dib slid his hand up to tangle in Zim’s crappy wig, feeling for his antennae and tugging in retaliation.

Zim made a noise like nothing he’d never heard before, something between a moan and a chirp that vibrated against Dib’s lips and huh okay that was definitely new but also kind of not-terrible and – oh – oh no...

They broke apart, holding an uncomfortable moment of eye contact. Zim blinked, eyes wide and an olive flush dusting his cheeks, silent for maybe longer than Dib had ever heard him, which was somehow both unsettling and weirdly satisfying. His wig was askew, a hint of antennae poking out until he tugged it back into place. Finally, he spoke:

“Ha! I win!”

“Wha – huh…” Dib felt like his brain was buffering, still struggling to process the fact that he just kissed Zim, or Zim kissed him, and the throbbing in his lower lip made him at least 99.5% sure this wasn’t a dream. “You didn’t win! How do you even reach that conclusion?”

Zim stuck his tongue out at him, the amusement dancing in his eyes only adding insult to injury. “You pulled away first.”

“No I didn’t! I mean – ugh – that’s not how this –” Dib groaned, dragging both hands through his hair and over his face. He should probably be freaking out more about this. He should at least move away, because it was probably some weird alien pheromones making him wonder what other noises he could get Zim to make, and before he could do something really dumb like – “Fine. You wanna go again?”

There’d be time for freakouts later, hours of analysis and dissection to determine exactly how doomed he was.

But right now, ankle-deep in mistletoe with no shoes on at 4am, Dib had both a score to settle and a surprisingly effective way of shutting Zim up.

So maybe Christmas miracles really were a thing, after all.

#zadr #nnnot sure i wanna put this in the main tags bc reasons #mistlefoe #is super valid tbh #SOMEONES HALLS ARE GETTIN DECKED #idk what i'm doing #rarity writes #my fic

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yoshimickster · 5 years

Text

RWBY Volume 6 Episode “Alone in the Woods” Micksterecap-THINGS HAPPEN FINALLY!

Hey everybody hoping you had a good week, mine’s had some bumps but I’m still dancin’ so WHATEVS-lets get to Micksterecap!

OUR EPISODE STARTS OUT-

-with Ruby thinking about reenacting her favorite scene from “An American Tail”, moon and everything-BUT-

2:05 -CAN’T due to Bumblebee angst. Look at Weiss in the middle there, no WAY she doesn’t know she’ a buffer between the two of them. Girl just wants to be warm, why does she also have to be in between passive aggressive romance drama?

Its sad times like this when a girl JUST needs a stable adult to talk to, so she GOES to Qrow-

-aaaaaaaaaaand he’s drinking...super. Way to keep it together, one of only 2 stable adults. He then tells her that he’s okay and that he’ll wake everyone up in the morning because he’s the STABLE adult he is!

A CUT TO-Maria telling Oscar about the late man of the house Bartleby, and how the farming community was going through a BIT of tough times, which I’m SURE he didn’t try to solve by using the dark arts...so sure.

Ruby than tells everyone they gotta go to sleep as they gotta get out of this rejected Evil Dead setting ASAP, which I’m sure Qrow will DEFINITELY be awake to wake up everbod-

4:13 Oooooooooooooooooooooh Qrooooooooooooooow...you got a problem man. That’s an ENTIRELY different bottle of booze. AND-just when you think his drinking problem couldn’t be even MORE of a problem-

-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH she woke up before him and saw him in this state. We’re getting real here folks, we’re tackling alcoholism, WE’RE DOING IT FOLKS!

In a FIT of anger-

-Ruby SMASHES that shit-

-WAKING-his drunk ass up-

-making him INSTANTLY realize he broke a promise due to his drinking...we are getting DANGEROUSLY close to very special episode territory here folks.

Ruby than gives him a sweet hug telling him he could talk to her and Yang about stuff, but like many people with a problem Qrow brushes it off...uuuuuuuuuuuuuh...HAMMERS! Sorry...trying to make a joke here but its just...SUCH an angst fest!

5:36 Everyone else is awake, hell Weiss even welded a hitchemup to Bumblebee(the bike not the ship) with her dust magic so the cart will attach to it! When Weiss learned welding I do NOT know but I’m glad she did!

EITHER WAY everything goes out fine without ANY proble-

-aaaaaaaaaand Qrow’s Misfortune pops the tire (Ruby, HIDE THE BOOZE).

This single deflated tired sparks a chain reaction of mental anguish, where everyone is practically giving up on the mission, Yang even tells Ruby she should just throw the Jinn lamp down the well ALSO-

7:43 These three just...STARE at Ruby until she drops it in the well...like weird sleepy zombies. Ruby attempts to toss that sucker down the well-

-while ALSO sporting a sleepy zombie demeanor like everyone else which I’m SO SURE won’t mean anything later-BUT THEN-

“Hey kid...you like balloons?”

Ruby than drops the lamp, LOGICALLY freaks out about it ALL WHILE-

-these...three sleepy bitches don’t give a SHIT! If you can ‘t tell by now, some CLEAR devil magic is being had here.

Ruby somehow being the ONLY person to not be sleepified, gets her team to join her in getting the magical lamp that the bad guy wants that is STILL a freakin priority! And I’m sure Qrow, being a mature man of body and mind will FIGHT BACK the curse holding them-

Qrow: Everyone do whatever, I’m gonna drink away my feelings.

Ooooooooooooooh right, depression.

9:29 Team RWBY jumps down the well without receiving fall damage, in what is CLEARLY Killer Croc’s level in Batman Arkham Asylum. Get the Poison Ivy spores and then GET OUT OF THERE! The four than search for the lamp-ALL WHILE-

Maria continues to read Bartelby’s diary which I’m sure will have NOOOOOOOOOOOOO relevance at all...absolutely none.

After slightly more emo than usual Blake points out their scroll’s flashlights are useless when they’re looking for a glowing lamp of infinite glowing-

-BAM-they finds that shit, and I’m sure NOTHING bad will happen when they go look for it, not Salem’s crew, not White Fang-bangers, not nightmare Grimm that suck away your will to care about anything creating utter and total apath-

-ooooooooooooooh crap, RUN OLD WOMAN! RUN AND HELP THOSE FOUR TEENAGERS WHO AREN’T USED TO THE SOUL CRUSHING NOTHINGNESS!

OH SWEET JESUS-they’re all bendy and moaning, and GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE! They even freak out Ruby-

-BUT thankfully-

-THAT was enough to wake them up from their case of the SERIOUS mondays. TERROR-the greatest alarm clock of all! Ruby THEN introduces them to the monsters of the week-

-DAMMIT-I wish I could get a better picture of how unsettling they all are, like freaky inky skeletons. Ruby then gives the FIRST volley-

11:12

-WHICH does nothing! That’s what you get for forgetting those super cross-bullets from the character short Ruby...and RWBY in general, what the hell happened to those things? Its even worse when the Apathy uses-EMO SHRIEK-

And its SUPER effective! THANKFULLY THOUGH-

OLD LADY MARIA APPEARS to save the day...by...encouraging them to run! Hey, helping’s helping, I’m not picky.

Maria: LET’S GO LESBIANS, LET’S GO!

Team RWBYM then runs ALL throughout the catacombs, running into more and more of these Grimm zombie fucks and JUST when they get to the exit-

-AND they hit em with another depression wave, they make Blue Diamond look like Holly Blue!

12:29 That don’d stop Maria, the little Yoda that could from trying to open the door-BUT-to no avail! Strong will power has its limits. ALSO-Blake has the most...HORRIFYING reaction to the Apathy’s power-

Blake:...its fine.

While she just LIES down, complacent in the absolute nothingness the Apathy gave them, just CREEPY!

Things are just NOT looking good folks, the music keeps getting creepier, the Grimm keep getting closer, and the PROM is tomorrow! But RIGHT before one of the skeledudes try to Freddy Kruger Blake-

Ruby: NO-not my sister’s almost girlfriend!

WOO-silver eyes-STUN THOSE LITTLE BITCHES!

Things seem good for like THREE seconds, Yang rushes to the door to bash it open BUT-

-they blast them with YET ANOTHER emo wave-RIGHT before Yang could get to the door.

Yang: NO-I can’t reach one of my two almost girlfriends!

Don’t lie, some of you were thinking shippy thoughts with that shot, and you DISGUST ME!

13:54 Once again its up to RWBY Grandma Katara to SAVE the day!

Maria: Ruby, what color are your eyes?

By...asking questions about eye color apparently! Also her goggles don’t look THAT distorted, I’m amazed she hasn’t guessed their silver.

Maria than gives her the ULTIMATE pep-talk, Ruby gets up and REVEALS-

-SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE HA GRIMM DISINTEGRATION POWERS! AWESOME! H-wait...did Ozpin KNOW about how Silver Eye powers WORKED? Cos if he did...wwwwwwwwwwwhy didn’t he get Ruby a tutor? Because that is one BAD ASS super power!

Either way it was an attack SO awesome-

-that it fixed Maria’s eyes! HUZZAH!

Yang bashes the exit’s door, REVEALING IT LEADS TO-

15:22 -THE HOUSE...uh, yeah where else would it lead? I’m just saying EVERYONE here is surprised, including Weiss and Ruby who saw the door LAST episode. Man, intense magical apathy must do TERRORS on the memory-WHICH-is actually true for those for depression. They ALSO see-

DRUNKLE QROW-who has been ABSOLUTELY useless this ENTIRE episode due to the Apathy amplifying his depression. Seriously, I want to point out he DOES look worse in this episode than others, most times he was a functional drunk, this time he went full off the wagon.

Everybody decides to logically leave this hellish house of hell-housery-RIGHT BEFORE THE ANIMATORS-

15:37 Give us SHIP BAIT! GLORIOUS GLORIOUS SHIP BAIT!

Either way, Weiss who is absolutely DONE with being scared and apathetic does the ONLY logical thing one can do in this situation-

-SET SOME BITCHES ON FIRE! OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH-their gonna toast up NICE with all that wood and alcohol there!

After pushing a belligerent Drunkle Qrow who EVENTUALLY notices the death monsters-

16:26 See that look? THAT is a combo look of both breaking from a plus 10 apathy enchantment AND instant sobriety!

Either way, everyone gets on the cart attached to Bumblebee and they get OUT OF THERE-

...rather...smoothly I gotta say! I mean what is that, 25 miles an hour? Bumblebee has a GOOD amount of horsepower for a motorcycle, wander why Yang had so much trouble trudging it through the snow earlier.

Everybody than says sorry for ever saying they’d want to quit the debatably futile mission of stopping an immortal witch, Maria gives final backstory on the apathy inducing monsters they fought being rounded up there by dumb-ass Bartleby who just didn’t want to pay Hunstmen and thought putting his friends and family into a state of constant apathy was a good idea, bla bla bla-TELL US WHAT WE ALL READY KNOW WOMAN!

Ruby: Ms Calavera, how do you know so much about the Grimm, and in the tunnels you know exactly what to say to make my eyes do that...how?

Maria: Well, isn’t it obvious girl...I had silver eyes!

BAM-a creepy as hell horror episode, more examples of Qrow’s drinking being a LEGIT problem, and SECRETS REVEALED in Maria being a Silver-eyes! DAMN what a good episode, hell the Apathy are almost as creepy as the Nuckaleave, and I LOVES the Nuckaleave!

Either way, fun episode, if you want to support my Patreon or Kofi just ask or message me, SEE YA NEXT WEEK ON MICKSTERECAPS!

#rwby #rwby volume 6 #rwby 6 #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiaolong #blake belladonna #oscar pine #qrow branwen #maria calavera #rwby spoilers #first spoilers #rwby volume six spoilers #yoshimickster #micksterecap #micksterecaps #vrv #rooster teeth #rooster teeth spoilers

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antiquechampagne · 5 years

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Beastly Kingdom - Chapter 4 - Eulogy

Nate passed the hours entertaining himself by exploring Nuka-Town USA. Just about everyone either avoided him or glowered as he passed. When he wandered into a nearly completely restored and functional arcade, he balked. Fritsch, the man operating the place, seemed friendly enough. Nate found he wasted an hour or two rambling around in a wave of nostalgia, despite himself.

After turning in a handful of tickets for a frog magnet, Nate walked into the busy market. He found the enclosed trading area depressing, filled with traders strapped with bomb collars forced to hawk their wares in rags. Few would talk with him, other than to show him their stalls, their eyes averted to the ground. He figured the raiders with rifles on the catwalks above them helped to seal their lips. He approached the slave that had been ministering to the dying raider when she caught his eye, nodding slightly to him. When he walked to her station, her voice was hushed low.

“Name’s Mackenzie. I’m the closest thing to a doctor we have around here. You’re that Minuteman General guy, aren’t you? ” A raider dressed in a paisley suit covered in armor walked by. Her knuckles went white as she gripped her clipboard, her eyes staring hard at the paper in front of her. “You need any supplies?”

“Not yet. But hey, can you tell me anything about that Damion guy and how he got that deathclaw back here in one piece? If you can…”

Mackenzie grimaced. “Ain’t no such thing as patient/doctor privilege around here, plus the guy’s dust anyway. Not sure what there is to tell. Damion and his crew have been on that beast’s tail for a while. Took ’em some time to figure out where they were nesting. Killed a few of the babies who they spooked. Took out, like, half his team that way.” She rubbed her forearm absently. “They had no way of getting into the nest without being slaughtered, but couldn’t lure her out. The Overboss wanted her bad, though.”

“Why?”

The doctor shrugged. “Who the fuck knows. Not like anyone could tame one of those monsters. Lizzy - she’s the Operators’ top chem chef - she’s been trying to come up with some kind of cocktail to pacify folks, en masse. Guess she figured if it works on a deathclaw, it should work on a settlement full of people, right?” She huffed. “Well, it didn’t work, not all the way. Damion got himself gutted in the process. They drug him all the way back here, with an unconscious deathclaw in tow.”

She hid her mouth with her clipboard, lowering her eyes and volume of her voice. “Hope the damn thing guts her, too.”

She was taking quite the risk. Nate followed her lead.

“Well, now that you mention that, I think I might have pulled something in my shoulder when I was fighting my way in here. Could you take a look at it?”

Mackenzie nodded. “That’ll be 15 caps.” She guided him to a chair. After removing his left pauldron, she started to feel around and maneuver the joint, affording her the chance to whisper into Nate’s ear.

“Not happy with upper management around here?” Nate prompted.

“A lot of us are sick of the accessories.” She adjusted her collar. “With the population growing, those on the lower rungs have been bearing the brunt of the pains.” She stretched his arm over his head while pushing his shoulder down. “Your sudden appearance has been giving a few of us hope there might be a bit of a shakeup soon.”

They both paused at the sound of boots scraping across the catwalk above their heads. Nate even gave out an “Ooof” for good measure as Mackenzie torqued his joint.

Once the raider had moved away, Nate continued. “Shakeup? Yes. Soon? Don’t know.”

Mackenzie nodded. Returning to normal volume, she issued him a clean bill of health and a recommendation to put a hot compress on his shoulder should act up again.

After being verbally accosted by a walking cartoon soda bottle, Nate retired to a corner in the courtyard outside the Cola-Cars area, watching the growing mountain of wood being gathered for the pyre. The crowd started to gather as the sun neared the horizon, a mix of every different kind of raider Nate had seen around Nuka-World, though the majority appeared to be from the Pack. It appeared as if some had already started the party, with drunken antics causing bursts of laughter or cursing.

Nate was starting to get an idea the social strata of raider society. Slaves were decisively on the bottom, followed by raider grunts. Above them were something akin to officers or managers, those who kept the lower ranks in line. Over them were the heads of the individual gangs. On top of it all, with undisputed power over the whole chain, was the matriarch: Liz. Somehow, they had developed their own brutal customs and code of ethics, more elaborate than he saw in the misfit operations normally roaming in the Commonwealth. Nuka-World raiders had more of a society in place than Nate had realized. It was almost like a huge dysfunctional family.

The courtyard hushed as the Overboss entered, followed by her entourage. The burly leader of the Pack carried a shrouded body on a crude stretcher with the help of Gage. The two of them easily hoisted their cargo on top of the pile, stretcher and all.

Liz took her place at the top of the stairs leading to the Cola-Cars Arena, making the area into an impromptu stage. Behind her stood a line of men and women. Nate guessed they were the various heads of the raider factions, plus a few hangers-on. He recognized Daisy, Gage and the Pack leader, Mason, but the rest were unknown to him.

With a single slash of her hand, Liz silenced the crowd. Every eye, no matter how bloodshot, was glued to her. She took a swig from a bottle before starting.

“I bet there are some of you out there wondering why you are standing here. Why are you waiting for party to start? Why should we be giving two shits about this corpse instead of tossing it in the pile outside the walls like the rest of those other dead fuck-ups?”

Several murmurs echoed through the throng of raiders.

“’Cause Damion bagged BIG MAMA!” She pointed to the body. “That’s why! The biggest, nastiest Quantum-claw in all of Nuka-World! None of you shits managed to pull it off, and he died doing it for us! If any of you want the royal treatment when you kick it, you fuckers had better start aiming higher!” She held the bottle up in front of her, the rag stuffed in the neck waving gently in the wind. “But for tonight, I want every last one of you to get fucking wasted! Bang the drums and howl till your lungs bleed! I want every slack-jawed farmer in the whole Commonwealth to think we are marching to their front door!”

With that, she lit the rag. With a deafening wail, the Overboss lobbed the Molotov cocktail at the pyre. It ignited with a fiery splash.

Out of the corners of the courtyard, booming drums beat the crowd into a frenzy, echoing the Boss’s howl. The raucous bacchanal continued as crates of booze and drugs appeared. Grilled carcasses were dragged through the crowd on modified funnel cake carts as the pyre slowly ate away at the corpse atop it.

Nate grabbed a chunk of unidentifiable meat, before trying to maneuver himself through the crowd towards the steps where the Overboss reclined on a toppled concrete post, an inhaler in hand. He could see her pointing and talking to the people around her. A group of metal masked raiders seemed to materialize before him, blocking his path. By the time he made his way around them, she had slipped away.

“Don’t worry, General!” Dixie said cheerfully, seeing him searching the crowd. She pushed a metal box into his palm. “The Boss wanted to make sure you had a good time, too. Enjoy, hun!” Looking down, Nate couldn’t help but notice that the tin didn’t have a label.

“Mandatory, right?”

Dixie nodded. Nate could barely see her eerie smile under her mask. “Aren’t you precious?! Of course it is!”

___

Liz sat in near darkness, watching the beast through the narrow slits of the bars as it paced. With hardly any lights on, the blue glow emanating from beneath its skin danced across her face. Liz actually preferred the low light, her bloodshot eyes more suited to darkness than the blaring bright sun.

Maybe in another 50 years, I’ll be forced to wear glasses! She thought. But I’ve made it more than two centuries without them. Take that, AARP!

She silently followed the Quantum-claw’s agitated frame, waiting for the deep inhalation of breath into its cavernous lungs. A moment before it released a thunderous bellow, she covered her ears, standing unmoving as the door buffered the blast of sound. The beast rushed the door, slamming its massive weight against the steel, its dagger-like claws raking the surface, searching for some purchase to rip the barrier to shreds. Occasionally, it would inch towards the bars, sniffing the air carefully before retreating back into the shadows.

In one hand, she held a bloody bowl. The other held onto a talisman tied around her neck. It had been over a year since she had last worn it, but she had made the decision it would never leave her neck again. Cautiously stepping forward, she started to make a throaty hum, low and guttural. She doubted a normal human could make such a noise. Pulling a bisected hand from the bowl, she tossed it through a gap in the bars. A large glowing blue eye peered at her, hesitating, before the creature threw itself at the door again, howling wildly.

Liz heard footsteps behind her.

“You okay, Boss?” Mason asked between outbursts.

Liz pulled Mason into another room, away from the wailing. “The party not up to your standards?” he asked.

She put the bowl down on a table, whipping her hand on a nearby rag – she’s probably been down here for probably an hour or two, now that she thought about it.

“The party is fine, but there’s no rest for the wicked. I’ve got shit to do… but there are a few spots along the floor where she can get the tip of her claws. She’s going to keep clawing those. In a few days she’ll be remodeling the room for you if you’re not careful. Fix it.”

Mason nodded.

She idly massaged her knuckles. “The General causing any problems?”

“Nah. He fell asleep with the mutie hound after popping a couple of those candies Dixie passed him. The guy’s a lightweight.”

Liz snorted. Dixie had passed him an old box of prewar breath mints. It was amazing what you could make people believe with just a little suggestion. “I’ve heard he pals around with a mutant sometimes. Figures he would cuddle up with one here too.” She started to head out the door. “Tell Gage and Dixie I’m heading to Kiddie Kingdom. I’ll be back sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

Mason nodded. “Sure thing, Boss. Don’t party too hard over there.”

Liz smiled. “A gal’s gotta go a little feral sometimes, Mason… or else life just isn’t as much fun!”

#beastly kingdom #fallout #fallout 4 #fanfic #fan fic #nuka world #funeral #deathclaw #Big Mama

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alexsmitposts · 5 years

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Lebanon: The Israeli Parking Lot We Helped Make It was the morning of 9 January 1984. The command “Battle Stations” came over the 1MC of the USS New Jersey. As we took our stations I remembered the conversations aboard ship in the preceding days. I remember wondering about these “enemies” our officers and comrades seemed so anxious to eradicate. And then New Jersey’s main battery of 16-inch guns opened up, for the first time since Vietnam. A Rumor of a War Like all the other sailors, my heart had been struck by the news that 220 Marines, 18 sailors, and 3 soldiers had perished in a terrorist attack on the barracks of the 1st Battalion of the 8th United States Marines at Beirut airport. We were all angry over the deadliest single-day death toll for the United States Marine Corps since the Battle of Iwo Jima in World War II. For us, the situation was surreal. In my rack on either the USS Iowa BB-61 or her sister ship USS New Jersey BB-62, I’d listen to 80s tunes from Bon Jovi or Prince, then take the duty in ship’s living hell of an engineering space, buried inside 60,000 tons of reinforced steel. Then there we were, in striking range of the evil the world has battled since forever. Or, so we were told. “We’ll turn Lebanon into a parking lot,” I remember one Senior Chief from WEPS saying. “Yeah, by the time we’re done there won’t be nothing left but a crater,” a shipmate who was a boatswain’s mate chided. In the galley of the great ship, on deck, in our racks, on duty in the boiler rooms, the bravado and the fear of unknown battle echoed each day. Then our ship shuddered as the recoil of our 16-inch guns fired 1900 pound projectiles at Syrian anti-aircraft positions miles onshore. That “enemy” was unknown, unseen, and as mysterious to us young sailors as any mythic combatants. For all we knew, great Hector, or the general Hannibal may have been on the other end of our guns. It was a strange time. We were proud to serve, and I was arguably the proudest of all. But something nagged at me, even without knowing the political situation. All the Wrong Places As it turned out, the combatants underneath those mighty guns were, in fact, shooting at our comrades. We really were supporting our comrades. Only we should never have been there in the first place. The catastrophe that is Lebanon has seen so much death and destruction. The U.S. Marines, French Legionnaires, Israeli IDF forces, Palestinians, Syrians, Iranians, Hezbollah, and hundreds if not thousands of civilians died in the months before and after the bombing of the Marine barracks. So, although I am ashamed of what our leaders forced us, soldiers and sailors, to do, I am proud to have done my duty to protect my shipmates in harm’s way. I would do it again, even though I now know the truth of matters in American foreign policy. What none of us knew back then was that the whole mess in Lebanon came to a head when the IDF invaded the country on June 6, 1982, in something called Operation “Peace for Galilee.” This was supposed to create a 40 km buffer zone between the PLO and Syrian forces in Lebanon and Israel. In reality, it ruined any chance there will ever be peace in the region, and it will have cause the deaths of millions of people before it’s all over. The PLO had been attacking Israel from inside Lebanon, so the Israeli leadership figured they’d turn what was a paradise into a living hell where chaos would rule. Lebanon, it’s a kind of “no man’s land” now. And if you think Israel is not just as evil as any regime in the Middle East, read all about something called the Sabra and Shatila massacre. An Unpopular Truth For those who recall, this was the United Nations called Israel’s role a kind of “genocide.” It was a moment where Israel’s Prime Minister Ariel Sharon had more or less encircled Israel’s perceived enemies so that terrorists of the Phalange Christian Lebanese right-wing party could rape, torture, and kill people inside the encirclement. I am sorry, there is no soft way to put what happened to 3,500 civilians, mostly Palestinians and Lebanese Shiites, in Israel’s war on her neighboring countries. As I type this, a harsh thought comes to my mind. Some will take this wrong, but here does. Am I the only one who notices that Palestinians, Syrians, Libyans, Iraqis, and other Arab people are the only ones listed in these genocides? 3,500 in Sabra and Shatila in 1982, 1,417 Palestinians in the Gaza Massacre of 2008-2009, 2,205 Palestinians in the 2014 Gaza War, 400,000 dead because of the Syria Civil War, 655,000 are dead in Iraq, 122,000 in Libya to get rid of Gadaffi, and God knows how many in Yemen and other places where we intervene either for oil or to prop up Israel. If I am hurting feelings here, rest assured it will pass. Unfortunately, the children of all those dead will remember. And there lies the real Armageddon laying in wait. “Another One Bites the Dust,” by Queen. This is the last tune I remember a shipmate playing as he bragged about how much “good we’d done off the shores of Lebanon.” We’d relieved some of the crew of the USS New Jersey, and were headed back to the Gulf Coast and our ship, USS Iowa, being outfitted with the deadliest hardware possible in Pascagoula, Mississipi. As I served my country, my captain, and my comrades in the years that followed I wondered every day about America’s role in the world. And lately, I’ve often wondered who survives crises unscathed in the way Israel has. I have many friends there, and each has his or her own perspective. But the leadership, the premise, and the one-sided casualty list haunt me every day. The fact we cannot even talk about it – this sticks in my brain like a thorn. What does it all mean? Wars of the Reprehensibles Back then I did not know who the heck the now notorious Donald Rumsfeld was, but after the barracks was bombed, then U.S. Middle East envoy Rumsfeld arrived in the Syrian capital within hours of the attack and met immediately with Foreign Minister Abdel Halim Khaddam. It is interesting, ironic, and a bit sad that there is still no official statement on who was actually responsible for blowing up the equivalent of 21,000 pounds of TNT underneath the Marine Barracks at Beirut Airport. “Rumors,” say the Iranians and Syrians were behind it. Rumsfeld, the Bush presidents, and others who are now termed “warmongers” have their suspicions, but even President Reagan’s Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger never came forward and named those responsible. As for Lebanon, I cannot leave off here without framing the importance and culture of this amazing spot of land on the eastern Mediterranean. Lebanon has witnessed civilization for more than seven thousand years, predating recorded history. This was the land of the Canaanites and the Phoenicians, who flourished for over a thousand years (1550–539 BC). Once an Ottoman satellite, the region was run by the colonial French for a time. Lebanon was referred to as the “Switzerland of the East” during the 1960s, but the Civil War of 1975 ripped the country to pieces. Many experts attribute this civil war to the hundreds of thousands of Palestinian refugees who fled to Lebanon when the state of Israel was established. According to some historians, shifting the demographic balance in favor of the Muslim population set the country upon itself. My opinion is that Lebanon was a functioning republic that became just another victim of the Cold War. Soviet interests, versus the western hegemony, and the special case of Israel, these were the ingredients of paradise lost. The situation in Lebanon today is really an echo from before the time of the Israelites, and facets like the rebellious nature of the Mardaites of old. Leveraging ancient sects and ideologies, it’s still the way of the Great Game. But where does this leave us? We cannot change who we were. Nor can we change who we are. We can, however, change the future, and who we will become. I said it earlier. I am ashamed of what they made soldiers and sailors do, but proud to have done my duty. And herein lies a great opportunity. Since we know the end of war. Since we know our leaders and the elites manipulate all of us, we can reshuffle our world and our future. If I want to believe the Twin Towers caved in upon themselves on 9/11, I can forget what I learned playing with my building set as a kid. If cheap gas because of the Iraq war makes me forget about invisible weapons, I can choose to forget. If millions of refugees do not swarm into Atlanta from Syria, what business is it of mine if there is war? Or, I can decide the world is my business. I can decide I am responsible. We can be responsible. We can change the world. We can have that lasting peace. But we can’t do it by following “them.”

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paulckrueger · 5 years

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The US economy was slowing before the latest trade escalation…and the Fed may be missing the point

Just one day after the Fed cut rates for the first time since December 2008 and ended quantitative tightening, President Trump tweeted his most damaging threat in the US/China trade war to date. He announced that the White House would implement 10% tariffs on the remaining ~$300bln in Chinese imports starting September 1st. In that moment, investor focus shifted abruptly away from Chairman Powell’s clumsy press conference and the debate over whether or not future rate cuts would be the start of a “long easing cycle” or just a “mid-cycle adjustment”. Instead, investor attention turned squarely towards the major flight to quality bid occurring in developed market bonds and the de-risking in global equities. The 10yr Treasury yield rallied over 30bps in one week alone (a +2 standard deviation move) as investors sized up the perceived negative impact of further trade escalation on the global economy.

Lost in the mad scramble, a number of important US economic data points were released that suggest the solid labor market and strong consumer that the Fed has consistently hung its hat on throughout the expansion may be at risk. While many continue to point out that the absolute level of growth remains reasonable around 2% and consumer confidence remains near cycle highs, the rate of change in these economic variables deserves equal consideration, especially when attempting to identify inflection points in the US economy.

Let’s look at three data series which were all recently released, reflect activity in the month of July and were collected before the most recent tariff announcement took place:

1 – Non-farm payrolls growth over the past 6 months averaged 141k which is down from over 200k as recently as January. Observing only the level of growth would cause little alarm. Job growth of 141k remains above the breakeven amount of jobs needed to accommodate for new entrants and put downward pressure on the unemployment rate. That breakeven rate is estimated to be around 75k – 100k. What is of more concern is the rate of the deceleration in job growth. While we did have a similar size slowdown in job growth from 2015 – 2017, it occurred over a nearly 3 year time period rather than 6 month horizon. Looking at the 6 month changes historically, the move year to date is a noticeable deceleration in the context of the recovery.

2 – The ISM Non-Manufacturing survey in July declined from 55.1 to 53.7 – the lowest level since August 2016. Observing the level of the survey in a vacuum would lead to the conclusion that service activity remains in solid expansion with a decent buffer of nearly 4 points above the 50 demarcation level (below 50 signifies contraction). So far this year, the deceleration in this survey has also been notable but still consistent with other mid-cycle slowdowns.

3 – The Nominal Labor Income Proxy is a less followed indicator that tracks average weekly hours worked, employment and hourly wages to create a more complete measure of total aggregate take home pay. The growth in the nominal income proxy is currently running at a pace of 4% YoY. Once again, the level of income growth appears respectable and enough to support consumption. This point is bolstered by recently revised savings data which suggests the consumer has more dry powder in the form of savings than originally estimated[1]. On the other hand, the nominal income proxy has decelerated rapidly from a pace of 6.2% YoY in January. The 6 month decline in the pace of growth stands out as significant. Moreover, the magnitude of the slowdown appears closer to levels consistent with recessions rather than mid-cycle weakness.

Similar to the market, the Fed seems all too focused on trade headlines to determine their next move despite the fact that doing so makes them uncomfortably beholden to the White House. Fed speakers since the July meeting have said they want to wait and watch for the dust to settle in order to see the impact of the new trade developments on the data[2] [3]. Nevertheless, the case may be building for the Fed to continue to ease policy even putting aside the most recent trade escalation.

Now the Fed is stuck in a bind. In an effort to not seem overly reactive to recent headlines from the President and the subsequent equity market volatility, they have turned their focus away from the fundamentals. While the Fed is distracted with trade, they may be missing a window of opportunity to arrest the vicious cycle between risk markets and the Fed’s reaction function as well as support the US service economy. If they are too slow in identifying the trend, the damage will be felt in tighter financial conditions, further declines in inflation expectations and an even flatter yield curve. More importantly, a delayed reaction by the Fed which results in the market pricing in a policy error will ultimately exacerbate any cooling in the US labor market that may be already occurring.

[1] https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2019-07-26/trump-s-3-growth-feat-in-2018-undone-by-annual-data-revisions

[2] https://www.wsj.com/articles/san-francisco-fed-official-is-focused-on-trade-tensions-1156508392

[3] https://www.wsj.com/articles/feds-bullard-wants-to-see-rate-cuts-effect-before-determining-next-move-11565101713

The post The US economy was slowing before the latest trade escalation…and the Fed may be missing the point appeared first on http://blog.jpmorganinstitutional.com/.

from Surety Bond Brokers? Business https://blog.jpmorganinstitutional.com/2019/08/the-us-economy-was-slowing-before-the-latest-trade-escalation-and-the-fed-may-be-missing-the-point/

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marilynngmesalo · 5 years

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It’s OK to eat some U.S. romaine lettuce, look for labels: FDA

It’s OK to eat some U.S. romaine lettuce, look for labels: FDA It’s OK to eat some U.S. romaine lettuce, look for labels: FDA https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

NEW YORK — It’s OK to eat some romaine lettuce again, U.S. health officials said. Just check the label.

The Food and Drug Administration narrowed its blanket warning from last week, when it said people shouldn’t eat any romaine because of an E. coli outbreak. The agency said Monday the romaine linked to the outbreak appears to be from the California’s Central Coast region. It said romaine from elsewhere should soon be labelled with harvest dates and regions, so people know it’s OK to eat.

People shouldn’t eat romaine that doesn’t have the label information, the FDA said. For romaine that doesn’t come in packaging, grocers and retailers are being asked to post the information by the register.

Romaine lettuce 'particularly susceptible' to E. coli outbreaks

DON'T EAT ROMAINE LETTUCE: Canadians, Americans warned of E. coli

Romaine harvesting recently began shifting from California’s Central Coast to winter growing areas, primarily Arizona, Florida, Mexico and California’s Imperial Valley. Those winter regions weren’t yet shipping when the illnesses began. The FDA also noted hydroponically grown romaine and romaine grown in greenhouses aren’t implicated in the outbreak.

The labeling arrangement was worked out as the produce industry called on the FDA to quickly narrow the scope of its warning so it wouldn’t have to waste freshly harvested romaine. An industry group said people can expect to start seeing labels as early as this week. It noted the labels are voluntary, and that it will monitor whether to expand the measure to other leafy greens and produce.

The FDA said the industry committed to making the labelling standard for romaine and to consider longer-term labelling options for other leafy greens.

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Robert Whitaker, chief science officer of the Produce Marketing Association, said labelling for romaine could help limit the scope of future alerts and rebuild public trust after other outbreaks.

“Romaine as a category has had a year that’s been unfortunate,” Whitaker said.

The FDA still hasn’t identified a source of contamination in the latest outbreak. There have been no reported deaths, but health officials say 43 people in 12 states have been sickened. Twenty-two people in Canada were also sickened.

Even though romaine from the Yuma, Arizona, region is not implicated in the current outbreak, it was blamed for an E. coli outbreak this spring that sickened more than 200 people and killed five. Contaminated irrigation water near a cattle lot was later identified as the likely source.

Leafy greens were also blamed for an E. coli outbreak last year. U.S. investigators never specified which salad green might be to blame for those illnesses, which happened around the same time of year as the current outbreak. But officials in Canada identified romaine as a common source of illnesses there.

The produce industry is aware the problem is recurring, said Jennifer McEntire of the United Fresh Produce Association.

“To have something repeat in this way, there simply must be some environmental source that persisted,” she said. “The question now is, can we find it?”

Growers and handlers in the region tightened food safety measures after the outbreak this spring, the industry says. Steps include expanding buffer zones between cattle lots and produce fields. But McEntire said it’s not known for sure how the romaine became contaminated in the Yuma outbreak. Another possibility, she said, is that winds blew dust from the cattle lot onto produce.

McEntire said the industry is considering multiple theories, including whether there is something about romaine that makes it more susceptible to contamination. Compared with iceberg lettuce, she noted its leaves are more open, thus exposing more surface area.

Since romaine has a shelf life of about 21 days, health officials said last week they believed contaminated romaine could still be on the market or in people’s homes.

Food poisoning outbreaks from leafy greens are not unusual. But after a 2006 outbreak linked to spinach, the produce industry took steps it believed would limit large scale outbreaks, said Timothy Lytton, a Georgia State University law professor. The outbreak linked to romaine earlier this year cast doubt on how effective the measures have been, he said.

But Lytton also noted the inherent risk of produce, which is grown in open fields and eaten raw.

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zionyife952-blog · 7 years

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How Express Car Wash Can Save You Time, Stress, And Money.

Orbital Buffer. These are getting reasonably priced. Also keep a vehicle duster that is great all around that a number of services and products leave behind. Were on into this section concerning washing your own car. Make sure that you are employing a clean wash and that the bucket has no dirt and bleach. Work in the colour and make sure the top remains trendy. Make certain you are using a automobile clean, also do not utilize detergents. The detergent hurts the end, wiping it of vital oils. Prior to Getting started You'll need: You may mend holes and burns by simply cutting out the space having a razor blade. Then cut a similar size piece from a hidden spot, like underneath the seat, and cement it. By brushing the piece that is repaired with all the old combine. You can go to a carpet outlet and can get a carpeting sample for price that will match the carpeting of the vehicle. 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Blemishes may be daunted burnishing the gloss to the conclusion and by wrap a cotton material. Some say that Guido da Vigevano built the very first car in 1335 that utilized a windmill type assembly to drive a set of gears to turn the wheels. I would say that if that is the case, that he probably was also the first one to clean a car. The automobile wash/detailing marketplace is getting an multi-billion buck industry. Even though why do you like to spend you hard won dollars on with a 1 factor your own car? When you could do it yourself, and make certain it is done accurately along with the way you want. I understand a great deal of auto enthusiast out. Once you are satisfied, start the engine up allow it to operate for a little while with down the hood. Remove and use a cone sprayed with all the degreaser and wipe down any parts. Today you can wash down all using a rubber dressing or shining product. However, do not spray or wipe down your belts, and make sure you read any precautions. Clean mitts and or a excellent sponge. Plus remember to shield your vehicles finish in the weather as far as you possibly can. This usually means keeping the motor vehicle from a garage, coated spot, or with a fantastic high quality car cover. A car which is constantly exposed to sunlight http://www.bbc.co.uk/search?q=car valeting and other environmental hazards may deteriorate quicker and demand upkeep. After decades of discussing and expertise with some of the greatest representatives around now, I have compiled a how to guide work. This manual is intended for several automobile lovers on most degrees. Maybe you are a newcomer to car detailing or you're just looking for some fresh "tricks" to supply you with the advantage on your upcoming car show. In any event I expect that this guide will help you. Also a hose or strength Washer nozzle with unique head types. Power Washers are getting reasonably priced and now you also can select them up. Squeeze removal nozzle The vehicle is chiefly dry and if you're done washing, employ your rubber dressings to bumpers, the tires and some other parts that you would like to glow. This gives the vehicle and you can then look for missed areas or water runs. To begin with is hard work and frustrating. To selling your motor vehicle detailing, irrespective of what your reason behind wanting to detail your automobile reveal will likely soon be worth your time and effort. Now there are products out there that say that it will cut your time in half, and that you only need to do it whenor two. However, several detailers I spoke with stated that many of the newest cheaper services and products are too fantastic to be authentic and certainly will damage paint jobs. This is why I suggest staying far from low quality products and sticking with the products. There is nothing that works as well as labour along with some elbow grease. Some suggestions will be made by me as I continue through the guide, but if you have a product you really like, go ahead and use it. Shop Vacuum or equal. Brushes. You are going to want a few unique varieties and sizes to get into the difficult to reach areas. An old toothbrush is useful, and cotton swabs. Prior to wax you need to get rid of any oxidation you could have. Usually, you won't need to try this every moment. Oxidation depends on how much you really wax, when you wax sun the car is exposed to, and other weather circumstances. Oxidation can ordinarily be taken out with a transparent coating compound. To polishing chemical, that will be mild but still harsh for coats you are able to measure up for finishes. You need to seal off the paint afterwards, if these products are used by you. Wash bucket. Make sure it's clean, and you may want to keep is as your car washing bucket just. This can assist in preventing getting grime and chemicals within a bucket you utilize to clean your car with. Now in the event that you have any obstinate stains in the upholstery or carpet this is the time to deal with them. Use an allpurpose cleaner to get the stubborn stains outside. Saturate the stain with cleaner, doing work it in with a damp sponge. Let it sit awhile and then blot it out using a towel. Make sure to see the direction onto the cleaner to get precautions. You are able to work with a window cleaner sprayed on a cone to get the headliner clean. Don't forget that the trunk/hatchback areas too. Then move on to the windows. If you are the same as me you despise cleaning windows for your own panic of streaks. Some pointers in this field would be to don't spray directly however onto a rag. Possessing a material ready to wipe it all dry. You can utilize paper to wipe it dry, the abrasiveness acts as a polish plus it's not going to render any streaks. 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See to the chrome that is plastic as though it had been surface and shield it. Try and not get any on the pieces that are dark. In the event you are doing, spray it with a mist and wipe out product and wipe it down . If that doesn't function a expert detailer apply it to the stain with a soft toothbrush and then gave this as a proposal: Microwave a peanutbutter. Peanut butter's oils dissolve the wax along with also its sufficient to elevate the stain. If you buy yourself a polish/wax residue or in cracks, split out toothbrushes and then the cotton swabs. Following removing it all about and clear away any excess from the cracks and emblems. Diapers are excellent for buffing up a shine. Following is a hint: divide the car down in to parts. Put on the prep/sealer/wax to one part at one period before moving forward to the next. This let's you concentrate your time and efforts onto regions at a time. Pre-soak the car making certain you eradicate any of those dirt that is big. Remove any bug and tar items time utilizing tar & insect remover using a sponge. Since rims collect brake dirt and debris particles proceed to the rims. Use a wheel cleaner that is made for your type of rims like being clear. Do not miss that the underside of the car, along with the gas cap lid also. Begin at the surface of your car or truck and move down your way. Make sure that you obtain all areas, also wash often. To do that a final rinse, remove the spray thoughts out of the hose and then flooding the finish. The water will have a tendency to perform off in sheets. When drying off the vehicle, you can make use of a chamois to get the bulk of the water, however finish it off. Now it's time to maneuver into your car's exteriordetailing your engine. First you will require to cover any sensitive equipment such as electrical components. Try using a heavy duty aluminum foil for this particular measure. In the event you use a home pressure washer for this, be mindful, it is possible to dismiss off water in regions which have beenn't meant to find moist. I favor using a backyard home with this step. As soon as you have sealed off everything, spray on a heavy duty degreaser on to this trendy temperature engine. Examine some warnings or precautions onto the degreaser. Use a pointy brush to get any residue that are stubborn. Then spray down making sure that you receive all of the degreaser off. Proceed on into the surfaces that are hard that are insides, clean them using a moist cloth and a cleaner. In the event you have leather upholstery, groom the surfaces using a leather conditioner; then spray it on a rag for tight areas. Never use a vinyl product on leather. Worn or torn areas of vinyl can be repaired using kits created for this goal. Repairs are created out of a patch which allows you match grain and exactly the color of your own upholstery. Worn areas of leather can be touched up with some grade shoe polish or dyes. Where to start? Most professionals I discuss suggest dirt you brush out and starting about the inner first wont decide to the cleaned exterior. Remove any floor mats and provide upholstery and the carpeting a very good vacuuming. Move the seats forward and backward to get all the dirt including in the paths, and doorway springs. You should also use one of your tougher bristled brushes to get any dirt out from the cracks; it is also good for stirring up the carpet mat so you can get the majority of the junk out of the carpet. We expect that you found the info valuable.

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brendagilliam2 · 7 years

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13 tips for making a VR gaming world

Tethered is a critically acclaimed third-person strategy game, designed for VR. It launched on PlayStation VR in October last year and was later released on PC with support for all major VR platforms.

Most recently, the game has been adapted to support an ultra-glossy non-VR mode boasting a dazzlingly beautiful 4K 60Hz native presentation.

Inspiring examples of 3D art

You play the role of a Spirit Guardian, a protector of the world. Your quest is to rid the lands of a nocturnal evil, free the other imprisoned Spirit Guardians and restore balance and nature to your sky-borne world. You do this through your population of industrious and adorable ‘Peeps’.

Tethered was developed and published by Secret Sorcery, an indie studio formed in 2015 by a group of senior developers formerly of Sony Evolution Studios (Driveclub, MotorStorm and Wipeout). With an established background in VR prototyping, the team set out to explore new avenues for their creativity.

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With rapid prototyping firmly ingrained in the founder’s dev ethos, the team chose Unreal Engine as their weapon of choice, which offers an unparalleled toolset out of the box for video game development.

For this project, the world that the colourful little Peeps inhabited, with surrounding vistas, were crafted in a hand-painted style using Unreal Engine 4, ZBrush and Substance Painter.

The following steps outline various techniques we used to create this breathtaking and enchanting world.

01. Research the purpose

Creating game worlds that are both fun but serve the needs of the game means a lot of thought and planning are needed

With the initial concept art and style setting the general tone of these idyllic lands, provided by Alan McDermott, creative director of the project, we set out to research the nuts and bolts of this world, from flora to technical necessities.

With the gameplay mechanics of Wild and Tame, the landscape for Tethered had to have multiple states, trying to push the contrast where possible to provide the visual feedback that was necessary for the players’ experience, which is of course of utmost importance.

02. Find the design

Levels were built so they could be tested and iterated easily

Levels are designed in block-out form by the level designer. The key here is the ability to test and iterate designs effectively. Using Maya, a single polygonal mesh is created and imported into Unreal Engine 4.

The aim was to get into VR quickly to get the godly feel just right. If the scale isn’t quite working, the team can quickly iterate, tweak layouts, move cameras and get back in VR fast.

03. Refine the design

Rigorous play-testing is vital to make sure the levels are up to scratch

Once the proxy layouts are approved and meet the game level’s core-design criteria, it’s time for some rigorous play-testing.

All navigation paths are optimised with blocking volumes as much as possible to prevent the characters from wandering aimlessly. The mantra for VR is test, test and test! Working in this manner allows the team to evaluate level designs, the VR experience and quickly make improvements if required.

04. Balance frame rates with visuals

Maintaining frame rate is essential in VR

The prototype goes through several stages of iteration before it’s finally ready for a detail pass. With a library of pre-made rocks available on an Insert Multi Mesh brush, these could be placed efficiently but also made to blend harmoniously within the landscape – an exercise in efficiency without compromising quality.

With agreed technical budgets for the in-game geometry, rock materials are kept in one draw-call, with just one 4K texture with a simple material to help us to achieve that all important frame rate.

05. Batch texture rocks

A Substance Painter template is perfect for texturing a load of rocks

Once sculpted, a template file is created using Substance Painter. By layering up tones using MG mask builders, the goal here was to highlight the rock edges, with tints of green within the occluded areas to help push the forms of the bold rock surfaces.

With this template file setup, all rocks for subsequent levels can then be batch processed for efficiency and continuity by simply changing the project mesh, high mesh and re-baking.

06. Generate the custom landscape

Unreal Engine’s landscape system is full of navigational benefits

With the landscape layout locked down, we can now use Unreal Engine’s landscape system for the raft of navigational benefits that it can offer. The proxy terrain is imported into ZBrush and with the level that’s been viewed top-down, the document is ZGrabbed to create a heightmap.

The heightmap is then imported straight into the Unreal Engine 4 landscape system and, with a bit of tweaking, it creates an almost identical layout as the proxy mesh that was provided. From here the sculpting tools within the landscape system can be used to refine any areas that didn’t quite transfer correctly.

07. Trim the perimeter

After compiling, the landscape perimeter needs to be trimmed back

With each of the island’s key components ready, it’s time to compile them into Unreal Engine 4 to ensure that they all fit well within the geology, and any issues are addressed and any unnecessary landscape patches are deleted. In fact, due to the nature of these islands, the perimeter had to be trimmed.

In order to do this, the landscape shader is placed into the “landscape hole material” slot found within the landscape shader. This also allows any entrances to caves to be opened up.

08. Create a landscape and foliage system

Foliage can be computationally intensive but plays an important supporting role as part of the environment

With the rocks and landscape in place, focus is set upon dressing the play area with a catalogue of foliage applied, and we can do this by using the foliage brush system and the new in-VR editor.

First of all a foundation is laid, where small shrubs and pebbles will help bed in the occluded areas and placed in the terrain.

Foliage is then subsequently built up in layers with a rhythmic flow and compositional balance in mind in order to create a simple and bold asset that ready to supplement for a VR scene.

09. Design unique buildings

Tethered’s buildings play an important role in the game

The buildings play a major role in Tethered, each with their own distinguishing features. By tethering your Peeps to the various structures, you can activate that building’s unique function.

Initially, buildings could change states to support the Wild/Tame game-play mechanic, but with the benefits of VR it became apparent that the experience could be enhanced by pushing depth in other ways.

10. Design a voxelisation process

Tethered uses a voxel system to create large-scale effects

Ian Moran, technical director at Secret Sorcery, explains how he captured scene assets so that they materialised in front of the player.

“We have multiple states for objects and environment, initially we had buildings that morph from one state to another, something that looked great when the player was closely observing the transition, but in VR, large-scale effects are what catch viewers’ attention.

“We wanted an effect that was much more spectacular and far less subtle, so we thought ‘What if we were able to move objects into the domain of particle systems?’ – then we could form objects particle by particle and have objects exploding into dust.

“For this we engineered a process that would capture polygonal and sculpted models into a point cloud in a way that’s similar to a 3D laser-scanned real world object. We could even choose the number of particles/voxels, which would allow for levels of detail and performance to be rationalised too.

“Models were ‘scanned’ from several cameras using the results of a deferred buffer capture. With this we could fuse a positional point cloud with colour and normal data enough to suitably represent an object.

“Point cloud was then rendered using a custom shader that would form at each point along mathematically calculated paths.

“With additional voxels joining with pre-existing buildings as performance allowed, voxels overlay the existing structure for a dramatic result. Buildings could then form from thousands of particles, falling in patterned, mathematically defined paths from the sky.”

11. Make sure there’s no waste

If a scene’s not hitting frame rate, it needs to be tweaked until it is

In the land of VR, optimisation is key, and profiling tools are essential to ensure your scene is as efficient as it can be, checking for areas of complex overdraw and so on.

Performance in VR is a requirement rather than a flexible ambition, to hit target frame rates is paramount. The statistical reports make this something that artists can tune their work to directly, rather than leaving content to be culled by programmers.

12. Make VR-friendly water

Unreal uses nodes for many tasks, which makes for an adaptable and powerful workflow

Moran explains how the water was approached for Tethered: “With welcomed additional performance courtesy of PlayStation4 Pro, we could develop refractive and reflective water.

“The refraction of the riverbed through water flowing over it was initially implemented using screen-space techniques. This looked impressive, but it actually suffered from artefacts that broke immersion in VR.

“By using a simple parallax-like shader technique to address the riverbed texture, this didn’t require direct sampling of the scene and didn’t have the artefacts. This created significantly higher performance, which is always welcome for a VR title.”

13. Play with parallax

Tethered uses parallax effects to add atmospheric depth

With the archipelago of floating islands surrounding the player, much time was spent structuring their rhythmic formations, with foreground structures purposely overlapping within the planes of depth contained within the vista, using parallax techniques.

VR allows for a visual voyage of discovery and the production of the environments for Tethered were developed to take advantage of this and exploit the medium to its fullest.

This required some old-school ingenuity that may not be all that obvious, but with a significant jump beyond the flat gaming platforms that we have all grown up with, the VR rule book is still very much being written.

This article originally appeared in 3D World issue 225. Buy it here.

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from Brenda Gilliam https://brendagilliam.com/13-tips-for-making-a-vr-gaming-world/

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