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radbeetle · 4 years

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|Call to Arms|

wow these screenshots are so old. do you know why i’ve been sitting on them for so long? because i wanted to finish the writing about this mission before I posted them

AND I DID. Check it out on AO3 or under the readmore.

“These robots were assaulted by institute synths.”

Katherine scrunched up her face and shielded her eyes as she looked up at Danse , who insisted on keeping his headlamp on.

“Um, sorry, I - I gotta ask… what are… synths?” and what’s the institute, for that matter, she thought to herself, but one question at a time.

“Technological abominations created by the institute, and let loose to run rampant throughout the commonwealth.” Danse’s voice was heavy with disgust, even through the buzzy modulation of his power armor.

“Danse. That’s… I get that you don’t like them, but what are they?” Katherine pleaded. “Just… in simple terms? Please?”

He scoffed. “I would have thought you familiar with them. Most in the Commonwealth seem to be.”

Katherine deflated, shoulders sinking. “Well… just… I’m out of the loop. Let’s leave it at that.”

The blank stare of the T-60’s helmet concealed Danse’s puzzlement. Regardless, he provided explanation. “Robots, built in the shape of man. A mannequin brought to life by machinery. They’re a mockery of humankind at best, and a blight upon this world at worst.”

Katherine bit her tongue, and suppressed her curiosity. As much as she wanted to know more, it was obvious Danse was biased. “I guess things have come a long way from the Mr. Handy, huh.” There was still a little bit of awe in her voice - she very much wanted to see these synths. Truly humanoid robots had always been a lofty goal of the industry… she had heard of RobCo’s Assaultrons, but they were still miles away.

Danse scoffed. “Unfortunately. Keep your eyes open as we move deeper into the facility. It’s highly likely that the Institute’s forces still have a presence here.” The paladin was already moving on, and Katherine was quick to follow.

“Mmm-hmm.” She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Part of her was brimming with curiosity about these synths… and part of her knew that if they could take down those protectrons, they could take down her.

“This place has really been trashed, huh? What do you think it was like back in the day?”

“Filled with men making poor decisions, I’m certain.”

Katherine pressed her lips. So much for small talk. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before the hallways opened up into another room. Two dust coated windows framed a sliding door, which Danse was quick to investigate.

“This is the way forwards, but it seems to be locked tight. There’s no apparent way to open it from here.”

Katherine straightened up, and holstered her 10mm. “Oh, if there’s no visible controls on the door, they’re likely wired into a local terminal. It’s technically required for them have a way to bypass the lock through the hardware, in case of emergency, but they never make it easy. Security stuff. Uh…” she trailed off for a moment, glancing around the room. There were a few desks still standing on the opposite wall, terminals still intact. “Um, give me a moment.” She kicked a toppled chair away from the desk, and bent over the keyboard. “Mmm, this one’s still logged in. I guess there’s not really time to properly disconnect from your workstation when they’re bombing the city.” she muttered as she scrolled through the inbox.

“Any luck over there?” Danse inquired.

“I’ve got access to the internal mail system, uh, lots of reminders about security protocols and - ah-heh. Automated password change reminder. Looks like it’s for the lab access?” Katherine had a gnawing feeling in her gut that she was over-explaining things. Surely the paladin didn’t care about the specifics.

“That’s where we’re headed.”

“Great, yeah, uh.” She scanned the room again and scampered to the other still functional terminal. “Let’s hope…” she trailed off.

Danse took a few steps away from the laboratory door, turning to watch Katherine with mild curiosity, hidden behind the power armor helmet. She seemed quite at home amongst the terminals and technology. An unusual trait, compared to most of the wastelanders he met. Though he was initially skeptical of her claim to being a Vault Dweller - the Brotherhood had no record of a Vault 111, after all - he wondered if perhaps there was some truth to her statement.

“Hey!” Kate’s head popped up over the top of the terminal. “Got it.”

“Excellent. Let’s not waste any more time. If you could open the door?”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” A swift keystroke and the door opened with the whnk-hsss of pneumatics.

Paladin Danse formed around, set once again to lead the way onward, through the facility - but the incandescent blue laser bolt that buzzed his power armor brought those plans to a standstill.

“Hostile detected.” The matter-of-fact statement and computerized voice carried no overt aggression, a sharp contrast to the flurry of laser fire passing through the now opened doorway.

“Synths! Take cover!”

Katherine didn’t need to be told - she dove for cover behind a fallen file cabinet the instant she caught sight of the laser’s flash. Her grip tightened around her pistol as she heard Danse shout - a cautious glimpse revealed that the synths - that’s what he said they were? - were prioritizing the Paladin as a target, paying no attention to her. She wasn’t sure if they had even noticed her.

A dozen thoughts all raced through her head, tangling together as she stared at the machines. Mannequins was the comparison Danse had drawn. He wasn’t too far off. They were battered, damaged, rubber skin torn to reveal steel skeletons and plastic components. Only a moment had passed before one of them turned its gaze to Kate. The faint yellow glow of its eyes and the exposed grimace of its metal skull was an eerie sight - and one that quickly exploded in a shower of sparks and shrapnel.

Danse had taken it out with a single headshot.

The moment was enough to jolt her back into action, and she followed up by returning fire. Her 10mm pistol wasn’t nearly as effective as the AER-9 laser rifle Danse carried, but it did the job.

“Hmph. Sent them to the scrap heap.” He noted the laser weaponry carried by the synths, and had a realization. He glanced at the pistol carried by his current associate, and offered her the backup laser rifle he had brought. “Take this. I’m certain there’ll be more of them, and they’ll be carrying microfusion cells. Energy will be more effective than a weapon of a ballistic nature.” The Paladin tossed the rifle towards Katherine, who caught it with a startled yelp. She turned the weapon over in her hands. She had a passing familiarity with the AER-9 - though she had never personally handled one, she understood the basic mechanisms, and microfusion cells were something she was well acquainted with.

She fastened her 10mm pistol to her belt and kept the laser in hand. Danse had already stepped over the smoldering wrecks of the synths, but her curiosity was too strong. She stopped in the middle of the room, and crouched down over one of the robots.

They had been shooting at me only minutes ago, she thought, and there was still part of her that was worried they might spring back to life. Yet despite that lurking fear, she had to get a closer look.

The situation struck her as a little morbid, perhaps. Moreso than examining a broken-down Mr. Handy, at least.

It was the faces, she thought. The eyes.

The Institute. That’s where Danse said they had come from. Katherine had seen how the world was torn apart, still ruined from the bombs dropped so long ago. But it seemed that somewhere out there, something had not just survived, but thrived. Moved on past the limits of the world she knew, developed things that General Atomics could only have dreamed of.

A weight settled somewhere deep in her chest as she turned one over. An aching sort of sadness.

She didn’t have a chance to process those feelings, to figure out the why behind them.

“What are you doing? Hurry up. We can’t waste any more time.” Danse snapped, irritated by what he saw as Kate’s dawdling.

“Oh.” Katherine’s response was quiet. She got to her feet, gaze lingering on the remains of the synths, before turning away to follow Danse once again, through the ruins of ArcJet.

Katherine was worn down by the repeated encounters with the institute synths - after the first firefight she stuck closer than ever to the paladin - and stayed behind him, too. The power armor could take a laser much better than she could.

She was sure Danse was scowling at her cowardice, under his helmet.

“This way leads to the engine core. We’ll have to pass through here to reach the location where they’ve likely stored the transmitter.”

Danse looked back to find Kate dragging her fingers through the dust on a long abandoned desk, staring at a box of long faded files and folders.

“Everything here stopped so suddenly… how many people do you think made it out?”

He hesitated. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“When… the bombs dropped.” Katherine clarified, her voice tinged with sadness.

Danse cocked his head. “I couldn’t tell you, and I doubt anyone in the commonwealth has that information, given how many years have passed since those events.” He scoffed. “Regardless, I would suggest against concerning yourself with the people of the past. Their actions brought the war upon themselves.”

Her only response to Danse’s declaration was to go very quiet.

The elevator ride that took them to the engine core was awkward; Katherine pressed herself into the back corner of the car and wondered how much a suit of T-60 power armor weighed. Every time the elevator creaked, or groaned, she flinched. The thought that it had gone two centuries without maintenance scared her.

Kate’s knuckles went white as she clutched the pitted railing, just leaning barely enough over to stare down to the depths of the room. Her eyes followed the length of the rocket booster back up, and turned to look back at Danse, whose attention was drawn upwards, assessing the staircase - and the massive gap where it had broken away over the past two centuries.

It wasn’t filling Katherine with confidence, that was for sure.

–

It was only a short few flights to the floor of the test chamber, thankfully. The ash crunched under Katherine’s feet, and she walked a line around the edge of the room, idly looking over the footprints she left.

Danse placed an armored hand on the cowl of the engine, which had laid dormant for over two centuries. He wondered briefly if the brotherhood would have a use for it.

Maybe if it were smaller. As it stood, there was no way to transport the thing.

“See if you can find a way to turn the power back on. Perhaps redirect it from other parts of the facility.”

“Yeah - yeah sure.” There were only two ways out of the room, aside from the stairs. An elevator, unpowered and unusable, and a set of heavy steel double doors, halfway open and leading to what looked like a maintenance hall, judging by the wires and pipes running along the concrete. Seemed promising - or so she hoped.

There was a… she supposed it was some sort of control room, judging by all the consoles and buttons present, but she didn’t pay much attention to it - another doorway at the rear of the room exposed a fusion generator, and that was much more promising when it came to potential power systems.

Not just one fusion generator, but two - and a terminal at the back of the room. She nudged the chair away from the desk, wheels leaving a trail in the dust. As she settled in, Kate’s fingers ran across the terminal keys. There was no elaborate security down here in the depths. It didn’t surprise her. But it did make her current task easier - and she was glad. She tapped her way through various options, scanning every choice and setting .

Ah. There we go. Auxiliary power. A few confirmations and…

She could hear the power systems coming to life in the walls around her, the faint buzz of electricity through wires, and the hum of mechanical systems powering up. That should have done it, if everything was still connected.

The fusion generators she had passed has turned quiet, and her gaze lingered on the fusion core left inside. Well… if that was no longer connected, no longer needed.

Push, turn, and a click as it disconnected, slipped into her pocket on the way out.

It was the sound of gunfire that made Katherine snap to attention once again. Or, more accurately, laser fire. Flashes of blue and red through the reinforced glass window of the control room.

The paladin’s shouts confirmed her assumption.

“Synths!”

She froze up, eyes darting across the room, tracking the barrage of blue bolts in front of her.

It felt like hours before Danse called out again, directed at her. “Do something, Vance! Don’t just - urgh - stand there!”

It was enough to jolt her into action.

She slammed her open palm down on the big red button on the console in front of her.

The sounds of laser fire weren’t enough to obscure the pre-recorded countdown that initiated.

“Command accepted. Test fire commencing in five… four…”

Katherine’s heart was doing backflips in her chest. “Test fi- oh god oh no job on that’s not -” She pounded on the window. “Danse!”

“Three… two…”

Danse didn’t have time to muster a response, under the onslaught of synths.“

"One. Engine firing.”

The roar of the engine was deafening, and Katherine’s immediate reaction was to cover her ears. The sound was matched in intensity by the engine’s output - even here behind the safety of the blast shield, she still felt the wave of heat.

Danse dropped to one knee, arm raised to shield his face. The steel of his power armor picked up a faint red glow around the edges under the engine’s flames.

The synths weren’t nearly as durable. Any of them immediately under the test engine were swiftly reduced to ash, and those with a little more distance crumpled to the floor within moments.

“Test firing completed with an efficiency rating of ninety-six point seven percent.”

Katherine was already at the blast doors by the time they swung open. Her footsteps crackled in the ash as she ran to Danse.

He hadn’t moved since going down, and that made her fearful.

But as she approached, he groaned, reaching for the laser rifle he had dropped.

“Danse? Oh my god I’m - shit, shit I’m sorry I didn’t know - I didn’t think - *are you okay?!” She was on the verge of panic.

“I’m fine.” Danse grunted, getting to his feet with a little more effort than usual.“Thanks to my power armor. Without it I would have fared no better than those damn synths.”

Katherine reached a hand out, a gesture of support, but as she placed it on his arm…

“Ouch!” She yelped, flinching backwards. The metal still held quite a bit of heat. She shook her hand - that was gonna leave a mark.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision, but the results are acceptable enough.” The paladin gestured toward the elevator, where the call buttons were now lit up. “I strongly suggest we keep moving on. I don’t know how many more synths are in this building, or if they’re on their way to us again, and I’d rather not stand around to learn the answer.”

Perhaps it was more of a command than a suggestion, as he didn’t wait for a reply before heading towards the elevator.

“Um…” Kate hurried after him, still worried, though now for a different reason. “How much does that power armor weigh…? Is that going to be within the weight limit? I don’t - that elevator is two hundred years old and I know it hasn’t had regular maintenance, what if it -”

Danse turned around to look at Katherine. Even with his helmet obscuring his expression, she could sense his disapproval.

“Sorry.” She offered lamely, before going quiet and squeezing into the elevator car beside him.

It was a tight fit.

“All the information I’ve gathered indicates that the deep range transmitter is most likely stored in this control room,” Danse explained, “and there’s almost no evidence of scavenger activity in these parts of the facility.”

“What about the synths?”

“They arrived not long before we did, from the looks of things. If the deep range transmitter isn’t in the control room, one of the synths may have taken it. If that’s the case, we should hope they haven’t yet left the facility - if they’re still here, recovering the transmitter will be a simple task.”

“… more gunfights?”

“Very likely.”

Katherine clutched her laser rifle just a little tighter as they made their way towards the control room.

She was very conscious of her choice to keep behind Danse. The power armor protected him - and anyone behind him.

The tinny statement of “Hostile detected.” was the first sign of synths ahead, followed by the pchew of laser fire overhead.

“Contact!” Danse was the superior marksman between them and was quick to take out a trio of synths. They crumpled to the ground in rapid succession, and the third found its plastic skin burnt to ash as it fell.

Katherine was quick to offer fire against the last two synths as Danse reloaded - though none of her shots missed, she was far less accurate. It took more than twice as many shots for her to take them down.

“Well done.”

“Oh - um. Thank- thank you.” She never was great at handling praise, and was quick to scamper off in search of the transmitter, investigating the destroyed synths while Danse searched the room.

A few recovered microfusion cells found their way into her pockets, before a larger item caught her eye. She nudged the synth aside with her boot, uncovering… well, she wasn’t certain it was the deep range transmitter but it did have the look of a very complicated and very expensive piece of technology.

Katherine made her way back to Danse with the device slung under her arm. “Hey - I found this and um. Is this what you’re after?”

“That would be it, yes. Excellent! And it doesn’t appear to have sustained any damage.”

“Yeah, that’s good news.”

“There should be a way to exit the facility from here, so there won’t be any need to backtrack. Follow me.”

Danse wasn’t one to loiter - Katherine found it hard to keep up with him.

“… oh, another elevator.”

The service elevator led to an exit behind the ArcJet building, up a hill, sheltered inside a concrete structure. The commonwealth was quiet - there were no signs of any synths lingering outside. They were both equally relieved by this.

Danse took a few steps past the aged, rusting fence, and turned back to face Katherine. With his rifle holstered he reached up to remove his helmet, tucking it under one arm as he spoke. “well, I’m certain that could have gone smoother, but mission accomplished.”

Kate winced. She really had no frame of reference here. “I’m - I’m sorry. I didn’t…” She trailed off, deflating.

“While the operation was flawed, your contributions were still invaluable. Without your assistance I would certainly have been overwhelmed on multiple occasions. I’m not certain I could have retrieved the transmitter on my own.”

“Oh…!” There was surprise in Kate’s exclamation. She shuffled her feet a bit, awkward. “I’m… glad to hear that. I think.”

The paladin continued onward. “With that said, I believe we have two important matters to discuss. First and foremost is the deep range transmitter. If you’ll hand it to me, I’d like to compensate you for your assistance during this operation.”

“Yeah, yeah okay, here, this is, um. This is yours.” Kate offered Danse the device, which was swiftly packed away and secured.

He unholstered the rifle at his side, presenting it to Katherine. “Here. You clearly have an aptitude with technology - and with energy weapons. I think you’ll benefit from this; It’s my own personal modification to the standard issue AER9 laser rifle.”

“…really? Don’t you need this?” Katherine gingerly accepted the weapon, scanning it. She could see evidence of tinkering - and, of course, the brotherhood’s symbol stencilled along the barrel. She ran a thumb across the paint.

“It’s not the only weapon at my disposal. Besides, I believe in paying my debts.”

“Well then… thank you.”

“You’re welcome, civilian. Now, onto the second matter.”

Kate bit her tongue, unsure of what to expect.

“I wanted to make you a proposal. We had a lot thrown at us back there, and for the most part, you handled yourself exceptionally.”

She found herself wanting to disagree, but said nothing.

“Our op could have ended in disaster, but your determination kept that from happening. I believe that with a bit of training, you could be a valuable asset to the Brotherhood.”

“Erm.” Was she being recruited? She would have flunked out of the pre-war military almost instantly.

“The way I see it, you’ve got a choice. You could spend the rest of your life wandering the commonwealth, scrounging for supplies and trading your skills for a meager reward. Or, you could join the Brotherhood of Steel and make your mark on the world.” Danse shifted his weight, grip tightening on the helmet he still held.

“So, what do you say?”

Kate bit her lip. “The Brotherhood of Steel, huh? You guys are… aren’t you military?”

“Essentially, yes.”

Her hesitation was obvious. “Is this something I can think about? I don’t think I know enough here to, uh. to make a decision so quickly.”

“Of course. It’s a big decision. The offer still stands, and when you’ve made up your mind, you know where to find me.” Danse took a moment to put his helmet on once again, and his voice crackled out from within. “With all that said, I need to return to the police station. The deep range transmitter ought to be installed sooner, rather than later, so we can get in contact with the rest of the Brotherhood. Thank you again for your assistance, Vance. I wish you the best.”

Katherine found herself staring after Danse as he turned and left, heavy footsteps echoing off the hills around them. She shook her head as if to clear it. This whole thing had taken her off track, and she sighed. She had always been praised for her willingness to help, but so often that kept her away from her own tasks.

She certainly wasn’t going to make it to Diamond City today, she realized - the sky was still light, but she knew that wasn’t going to last much longer.

There weren’t enough hours in the day. That had been true two hundred years ago, and it was still true now.

She wasn’t looking forward to setting up camp for the night.

#fallout 4 #screenshots #paladin danse #fallout oc #sole survivor katherine #radbeetle screenshots #beetle's ocs #radbeetle writes #i might have to start just linking to the longer things on ao3 because wow this one went long #katherine's memories

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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years

Text

One In A Million - Chpt.3

Summary: Rose starts work at the SSR Headquarters and runs into Steve again despite her intention to avoid the guys.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Can you even imagine trying to adapt to life in the 1940′s? It would have to be wild. I like to think that Rose would be pretty much any modern girl trying to made do back then. We’d miss random things and forget ourselves from time to time. And if nothing else, I promise you, none of us would be able to resist Steve or Bucky in their prime lol. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Three

You spend the next two days settling into your tiny apartment that sits looking out over a factory district street. It’s not glamorous but there are four other girls living in the building and it seems to be pretty safe from what they’ve told you. Your apartment is 2a and there is currently no one in 2b. Both first floor apartments are taken as well as both third floor ones. Macie who lives in 3a works at the SSR office too. She’s in the mail room there and you make plans to walk together on Monday.

Despite the cold, you do a lot of walking over the weekend. It gives you a chance to get to know the area better and pick up the few things you’ll need to get by for the next twenty nine days. You mark the date and time of your jump point on your new wall calendar, wanting to be ready to go and not risk any mistakes that get you stuck back in time longer than you plan to be there.

The apartment came fully furnished which is a blessing and a curse. The style is very feminine and the abundance of tiny flowers is a little overwhelming at times. You pick up a tiny window plant, missing your cactus back home for a moment when you pass a florist shop. It’s your only contribution to the apartment's decor. You can’t see wasting money on other things when you won’t be around for long. It’s not like you intend to host any guests in the next few weeks. The memory of dinner with Steve and Bucky comes to mind unbidden. It was so easy spending time with them, it’s a shame you’ll have to avoid them now.

The nights are quiet in your apartment. You had always thought the constant connectivity of technology in the twenty-first century was a nuisance, but without it the silence of your apartment is deafening. You pick up a few books while you’re out shopping to help pass the time, and they do to an extent. It doesn’t stop you from wondering what Bucky and Steve are up to though. It’s frustrating that after only one evening in their company that they’ve left such an impression on you. You pour yourself into your books, playing cards over at Macie’s, and cleaning your apartment thoroughly. It’s enough to get you through to Monday when you know you’ll be able to distract yourself with work.

Macie is full of life, chatting happily the entire way to the office on Monday morning. It’s nice not having to hold up your end of the conversation while you nibble at a piece of toast as you walk. The easily accessible food in the 40s is very plain, which you had expected, but it’s making you wish you had memorized a few recipes before you went back so that you could whip up a few more appetizing meals. You’re thankful money isn’t an issue while you’re there so you can “splurge” on things like sugar and coffee. You had passed on buying a cookbook but are starting to think it would have been a good investment. There’s no way you’re going to be living off of toast for breakfast all month. You wonder idly how difficult it would be to make a poptart from scratch. Probably harder than it’s worth but you’d give just about anything for a hot, toasty, s’mores poptart.

You get set up in the typing pool at the SSR after a brief tour around the office by Marge who manages all the data entry girls. There are thirteen of you, all crammed together in a string of desks on the second floor with typewriters at each of your stations. You quickly realize that while you had been lightning fast at typing on your laptop, a typewriter is quite a different beast. The biggest hiccup being the lack of a backspace key. You vow to never take that little rectangular button for granted again as you start on your eighth copy of the same notes.

The afternoon is easier than the morning now that your brain has caught on to the lack of a backspace key and you’ve slowed down enough to ensure you don’t make mistakes. By five o’clock your shoulders ache from the angle of the desk and you miss your ergonomically designed workstation at the lab.

You decline Macie’s offer to walk home with you in favor of going back to the bookstore to buy a cookbook. You can make a few dinners easily from memory but it would be a lot of guesswork for cooking times and measurements. Meat thermometers are apparently not a common thing yet and without Pinterest to help, you can’t remember how long to roast chicken breasts to ensure they’re done. Spending a few cents on a cookbook seems like a better option than food poisoning. You find a Better Homes and Gardens cookbook that reminds you of the one your mother had growing up and you buy it out of nostalgia as much as a fear of salmonella.

You manage to whip up an easy dinner for yourself, half memory of your favorite herb combo and half instructions from your newly acquired book. With nothing but time on your hands, you plan out meals for the rest of the week and make a shopping list for everything you don’t have. The space in your icebox is limited but you’ll be able to make do since you’re only cooking for one. As you plan out your meals it dawns on you that your period is due later that week and you throw cocoa powder on your list. It might be an indulgence in the 40s but you’re making brownies no matter what. If you have to survive your period without Midol, you’re damn well not doing without chocolate.

The next night you pop into the grocery store on your way home, sore from another day hunched over a typewriter. Your aching shoulders have you dreading lugging bags of groceries home despite it only being two blocks. You’re debating over brands of cocoa powder when you hear the deep timber of a familiar voice.

“Rose?” Steve calls out from the end of the aisle.

You turn to see him holding a can of peaches, smiling broadly. So much for avoiding the guys. “Hey Steve.” you reply with a slightly forced smile. You should have known this would happen, Steve works at the grocers for heaven's sake. Stupid, so stupid.

Steve places the can he’s holding on the stack and crosses the aisle to join you in front of the shelf. He lets out a low whistle at the cans of cocoa you’re holding, “Special event coming up?”

You shake your head, “Nope. Just felt like making brownies.”

Steve shakes his head in disbelief. “That must be nice.”

You frown, realizing that’s out of place with the times.

Steve mistakes your frown and fumbles for an apology, “Sorry, that was rude.”

“No,” you assure him, “It’s alright.” You wonder when the last time Steve and Bucky scraped up enough money for a treat was. It was mentioned in the archives how they had struggled to make ends meet due to all of Steve’s health issues.

“That must be some fancy job you got over at the SSR if you’re making brownies just because it’s Tuesday.” His tone is more playful and he has you smiling fully at him now.

“Family money.” you bluff, “But you know, I can’t eat a full pan of brownies by myself.”

“That probably wouldn’t be a good idea, no.”

“What time does your shift end?” you’re acting on impulse and you don’t care in the slightest at the moment.

“I’m done at six. But Rose, you don’t have to…”

“Bullsh-” you stop, censoring yourself. You’re in the 40s, women act like ladies and watching your mouth has always been a struggle. “Nonsense.” you amend with a blush, “You and Bucky should come over when you get done. I’ll even make dinner.”

Steve is still smirking from your slip up but he nods. “Alright. I’ll call Bucky and we’ll be over.”

“Good” you say and you mean it. Seeing Steve again has you wanting to be a part of their world regardless of the danger it poses. It’s hard to know they struggle when you could help with your limitless SSR funds. It’s reckless, you know that, but when Steve smiles at you it doesn’t seem to matter.

You part ways, letting him get back to stocking the shelf of peaches, and you collect the rest of your list plus a few things for a simple dinner.

Steve and Bucky arrive at your apartment fifteen minutes after six. You didn’t expect them to get there so quickly and you’re still mixing up brownie batter and boiling water for pasta. You let them in and cringe as they look around your overly floral apartment. “It came furnished.” you explain while taking their coats.

“Good to know.” Bucky chuckles, “You don’t really seem the type.”

You shoot him an inquisitive look. “And what type do you think I am, Barnes?”

“You’re classier than this, that’s for sure. You’re feminine but tough. Like you’d be just as likely to make me brownies as you are to take on a guy twice your size to defend someone.”

You can feel yourself blushing deeply and you can’t seem to keep yourself composed. “Oh you, you charmer.” Steadying yourself with a deep breath you swat at him with the towel you had tucked into your apron pocket. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and come help with dinner?”

Bucky dodges your swat and points at you accusingly, “See, you’re just proving my point, doll. Sweet enough to make us dinner but sassy enough to make us help.”

“Shut up and grab the bowl.” you motion to the counter top where your half mixed brownie batter sits. “Steve, can you please get an 8x8 pan out from the cabinet over there?”

“How come he gets a please and I get a shut up?” Bucky balks.

“Because Steve isn’t a pain in my ass.” you say in the most saccharine tone you can muster.

Steve snorts and Bucky feigns taking offense, but both men fall in line helping you. It’s fun cooking with the two of them despite how obnoxious their teasing can be. Barely twenty minutes later you’re dishing up large bowls of pasta and hunks of garlic bread. It’s a rich, heavy meal and you hope to send the leftovers home with the guys. It’s one small way you know you can quietly help make their lives a little better.

“What is this?” Steve all but moans before stuffing a second bite of the pasta in his mouth.

A small campfire flares to life in your chest at his obvious enjoyment. “It’s called cacio e pepe. I used to make it a lot when I was in college. It’s so easy to make.”

“Stevie, I’m sorry but you’re losing that best meal in Brooklyn award.” Bucky says, swallowing quickly.

“I’m glad you guys like it.”

Bucky shakes his head, “Not like, love. What do you say, Rose? Let me make an honest woman out of ya. I would marry you tomorrow if it means I get to eat this again.”

“I’d fight you for that, ya jerk.” Steve grumbles between bites.

You wave your hand dismissively. “It’s like the two of you haven’t had a decent meal in your lives. How about I just keep the pair of you and I’ll make this as much as you want.”

They look at you for a moment in quiet amazement before Bucky quips, “You were right, Stevie. She is an angel.”

The banter continues as you eat your meals, topic hopping from work to weekend plans to childhood memories. Both men go back for second bowls of pasta and while Steve taps out halfway through Bucky is scraping his empty bowl again in no time.

“You do realize I have brownies in the oven.” you remind him as you clear the table.

Bucky leans back in his chair, hands splayed on his stomach. “Oh I know, darlin’. But by the time those things are cool, I’ll be ready.”

“I might not be.” Steve groans mildly.

“That’s because that was the most you’ve eaten in a month, ya punk.”

“You know my medicine messes with my appetite!”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you.”

“Jerk.”

“Punk. I only worry because I care.”

They exchange achingly soft looks across the table and you force yourself to act busy and not intrude on the moment. You don’t consider yourself a romantic, you’ve never had the time or inclination for it, but you think you might do just about anything for someone to look at you like that. You wait a few minutes, getting the dishes soaking in the sink before returning to the dining room where the guys are chatting quietly.

“Want to hang out in the living room? The brownies should be done in a little bit but they’ll need to cool.” you suggest and both men nod in agreement, getting up, albeit slowly, from their chairs.

You enjoy the background noise of the radio while you play cards with the guys. The music is different than what you’re used to but still good. Bucky is amazed you know how to play rummy and poker so well and Steve looks at you like you could hang the moon when you crush Bucky not once, but twice. You find yourself loosening up a little more around them despite knowing it’s probably not the smartest thing. Your competitive nature takes over and you’re taunting and bragging while you play just like you would back home with your guy friends.

Bucky proposes to you again after he tries a barely cooled brownie from the pan. Steve can’t stop smiling as he nibbles small pieces off his piece and you can tell that he’s just as happy, just less vocal. It’s late when the guys finally head home and you load up their arms with leftovers insisting you don’t want it laying around the house. Bucky pulls you in for a hug, “Thanks, doll.” he murmurs close to your ear and you shiver despite yourself.

That damn man knows what a flirt he is and it’s just not fair. You decide to level the playing field a little. “I’m glad you came.” you tell Steve quietly when you pull him in for a hug. You press a quick kiss to his cheek before letting him go and he turns positively scarlet as he pulls away.

You shoot Bucky an amused smirk, making sure he knows you’re on to him and not phased. Well, you are, but damned if you’ll admit it. You don’t have the time to let yourself be smitten with either of them, let alone both. Steve stutters through a goodbye and you wave them off, promising to see them again soon.

Starting in on the dishes in your sink you realize that smart or not, you’re a goner for the pair of them. You know it’s not fair to any of you, they’re clearly very happy together, but your heart doesn’t seem to have gotten the memo. Going home in three weeks is going to hurt and at this point all you can do is minimize how much.

#one in a million #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #reader insert #steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #stucky fanfic #polyamory fic #marvel #marvel fanfic #captain america fanfic #time travel #1940s setting

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prorevenge · 6 years

Text

Teacher tells me I am lying about my mother having cancer.

This is a long one with TLDR at bottom

This was in my grade 11 year of high school, My computer class had a year long substitute teacher because our amazing teacher was out for a year working on a government contract. Our previous teacher was outstanding. He had six different classes in our classroom all happening at the same time which were: computer repair, programming lvl1, programming lvl2, networking lvl1, networking lvl2a and lvl2b. He would give a lecture for each of the classes on a specific day of the week, programming on Monday, repair on Tuesday and so on, we would all work in our own groups and everything went quite well.

The next year came around and I found out that we had a sub for the year I had two back to back blocks in this class cause I was doing two courses, I wandered up to the class to see what kind of teacher we were dealing with, mainly interested because i was almost certain whoever they found did not have the credentials to teach at least half of those classes. The new teacher was a foreign woman that none of us have ever heard of before, for the purpose of the story we will call her Mrs. S.

I went and found my friends to tell them what I had seen. We were all optimistic cause from a very short conversation she seemed quite informed and had a good background.

It didn't last long, on the first day of class Mrs. S introduced herself as a programming teacher who had been in school for four years. She went on to tell us about her programming experience in Microsoft Excel and Microsoft Access. She then told us that the programming students would not be doing the Java and C++ course we had signed up for and would instead be doing database and Excel because those are what she learned and she said and i quote 'they will be more useful than C and The Java'. She also went on to suspend all at lunch clubs because she didn't think high school students could be trusted with computers alone.

Understandably some of us were quite upset about that considering that we came there to program. She also did not give the repair people or the networking people any kind of support and completely stopped their lectures as well, preferring to let them figure it out themselves and 'self teach' without giving any of the resources to do so and occasionally throwing out a test pre-written by the last teacher for her.

This continued for about two weeks till one day she came in and said quite irritated that we would actually be doing 'The Java' now unless we wanted to keep doing database, so we switched to Java and she basically left us out to dry from there. because she wasn't teaching Database anymore she came to harass people in computer repair. First she told us the shop room was too messy and made us throw out 90% of our training workstations and equipment because they were not important in her eyes. Equipment that did not belong to the school but actually belonged to the other teacher. We took home what we could steal for safe keeping but she did end up throwing out a few thousand in equipment.

Then she started imposing stupid rules on us such as;

"You can't have the computer on while you are troubleshooting inside cause you could electrocute yourself"

"You don't need the case open to troubleshoot motherboard lights"

Or my personal favorite and the most scary

"maybe you should change the power supply to 240v if you aren't getting enough power"

We followed most of her stupid requests as much as we could because she threatened to lock us out of the lab room and give us only textbook work if we didn't. Needless to say it was a challenging time. One of the students in the networking area got fed up and started doing up his own course work and lecturing to us so that we could at least get some kind of use out of the courses. To his credit it was all very good but Mrs. S had the balls to force him into doing it from there on out and then turn around and give him low grades for not getting his own work done on time.

A few months of this very uneasy balance go by and my mother comes down with Colon cancer. I have already had a handful of other family members suddenly taken from me by cancer so understandably this is a very stressful time. I was joking with my friends and trying to not break down over the whole thing. I had a very unstable laptop running Linux that would crash if looked at funny and had a horrible habit of corrupting the OS when the battery died because the reserve shutdown sensor didn't work anymore (battery always read 0% but would go for an hour or two). while I was working on the school desktop computer I had a few pages open that I was taking notes in and a facebook tab so I could keep in contact with my mother cause she was in surgery and I was waiting for her to come out. I look over and the teacher is snooping through my laptop opening folders and closing windows and eventually pushes the power button in till it shuts down (which also usually corrupts anything I was doing). The following happened.

M: What the hell do you think you are doing?

S: You shouldn't be on facebook or writing notes on a personal computer during class time, especially when your grades are slipping.

Thanks for bringing that up in front of everyone...

M: That gives you no right to touch my stuff! You better hope you didn't just corrupt everything! this laptop breaks easy.

S: Then you shouldn't have it out during class, keep that tone up and I'll see you get a detention.

At this point I am trying just to keep calm because if I get too emotional I have a tendency to explode. This is often made worse because of my mild autism. I took a second replied in a calmer tone.

M: I'm sorry, I'm just having a hard time at home right now... My mother was diagnosed with Colon Cancer and I am waiting to hear back.

And this is the part which REALLY set me off.

S: You don't look like a kid who's mother has cancer, quit making sob story excuses.

are you FUCKING kidding me‽

It took every fiber of my body not to stand up and slap the bitch right there. I gave her the dirtiest thousand yard stare I think I have ever done while also trying to not burst out crying. I spoke to nobody for the rest of the day till I got home, people kept asking if I was okay and I ignored everyone. My mother was out of the hospital and home by the time I got there. I broke down crying and told her about my day, her face was comforting but you could see the fire of an angry woman behind her brown eyes. She told me not to worry and that it'd be okay.

A few weeks passed and I was called into the office for a one on one parent teacher conference someone forgot to tell me about. There were all the teachers I had that year, good and bad, my Learning assistance teacher the VP and the principal herself. They told me that we were there to discuss my grade slippage as soon as my mother came. My mother was about 10 minutes late, leaving me to awkwardly sit with all these people. She comes in and is all smiles,

M: Sorry I am Late! I got held late at the hospital.

Someone but i'm not sure who asked her why she was at the hospital and if everything is okay. My mother answered in her happy way.

M: I was just getting my C̭̟̦̤̕A̰̣̰̼Ń͕̝̬C̵͕E̯R̥̫͇̹̳͝ checked on, Because I have cancer.

The room went cold and her voice seemingly dripped with blood when she said it, my computers teacher went pale and everyone in the room was giving a confused 'what on earth did you do' look

My mother proceeded to relay me coming crying home about how I was treated to everyone present while Mrs: S tried to become one with the wall of the small meeting room. She kept it short but to paraphrase added the following.

M: How dare you say something so careless to my son, I hope you are ashamed and I hope you don't get invited back for another year.

She then returned back to her normal happy self and discussed my grades like nothing happened whilst half the teachers were still trying to figure out what just happened and told them that now she was out of the hospital my grades should improve again. I just sat quiet the whole time and tried to suppress bursting out laughing.

After that day she never directly spoke to me again, had instructions relayed through other people or gave them to the class as a whole, she did her damnedest to be nowhere near me and say nothing to me. My grades improved quite a bit and the year ended with me passing.

Mrs. S was previously offered a job at the school as a secondary computer teacher but after all the trouble the job was pulled back. The next year when our first computer teacher returned he was furious to learn most of his equipment and personal books had been thrown out, we returned the things that we snagged during the purge but he still lost a few thousand in personal teaching stuff. The school payed him back with 10,000 but he says he lost so much more than that in time and pre-set hand made equipment. We told him all about the horror show and he gave us all an extensive test normally given at the end of the year which the vast majority of us failed, we ended up redoing all the computer courses from the previous year because in his words she didn't even teach us the basics. that sub can no longer teach in this or the neighboring districts

TLDR: Shitty year long sub fucks us all over, tells me i am faking my mother's cancer and destroys another teachers personal property. Gets ripped into by mother with all my teachers and VP and P present. looses opportunity to work in my district or any surrounding for being unprofessional and not knowing her subject forcing everyone in her class to retake the next year.

(source) (story by flanigomik)

#prorevenge #by flanigomik #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #revenge story #pro #revenge #last10

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drowningauthor · 6 years

Text

Meet The Writer Tag

Tagged by @wondersofwriting00 and @ink-on-poppies (I’m gonna combine and answer both your questions haha) thanks for the tag!

The rules are: answer the 10 questions given, write 10 new questions, and tag 10 people.

1. Why did you start writing? I started writing because I always loved reading and telling stories, and ended up just writing my own. Changing endings I didn't like, making characters I preferred, and then eventually, full stories. 2. What is your favourite book/poem/story that you’ve ever read? Why? The Way Of Kings (And entire Stormlight Archive) by Brandon Sanderson. I can't give you a main reason, but a thousand little ones. The way he pulls you into the story is masterful, and I think the philosophy of the story is magical, especially the windrunners. It's always resonated with me. 'I will protect those who cannot protect themselves. I will protect even those I hate, so long as it is right. I will protect those I hate, even if the one I hate the most is myself.' I find that really beautiful, and intend to get it tattooed eventually. Also Lenore, by Edgar Allan Poe. 3. What is something you’ve learned from writing and reading that you think everyone should know? Destiny is never set in stone, your actions rather than your intentions are what define you as a person, if you love something do it. 4. If you had to choose, what alternate universe would you live in and why? Who would you want to live with or be friends with? The Cosmos (The universe all of Brandon Sanderson's books are in) just because I love it, and I'd love to meet Kelsier and Kaladin. My sweet boys need some love haha 5. What is your writing style? Short facts, long description. Interspersing the two keeps the mind from growing bored, and gives both more impact for me. 6. What authors do you admire or aspire to? Is Brandon Sanderson not an obvious answer yet? Hahaha 7. If you could, would you choose to have a movie or tv series made out of one of your books or series? (Money not a factor or influence) Movie for Elsie, series for my possible other WIP currently brewing in my mind. 8. What do you love about writing or reading? The fact it takes you to a whole new world. You meet new friends, new people to love, and they're always there whenever you need comfort. I love that so much. 9. What power would you want to have if you could choose from the powers of any character? Why? Kelsier bc all the powers! Hahaha or my own dear Blaze's pyro powers bc fire is lovely. 10. What is your biggest perceived flaw in your writing, if you think you have one? EVERYTHING. I hate everything I write. I'm still proud of it though. My biggest issue is not being able to successfully mix description and dialogue though, one or the other and I'm fine but the two at once I have trouble with.

1. Have you killed anyone in your WIP? How did they die? Not yet, but I will be killing someone. She'll be stabbed. 2. How many words approximately do you write in a good, productive day? A good day has usually consisted of about 800 words average, a bad day is 0 which I have more of, but the other day I wrote 3k which I was super proud of. It used to be my norm, which I'm hoping to get back to. 3. Which one of your OCs do you relate the most too? (Describe them) I relate the most to Vivas actually. He's a bitter, surly, sarcastic asshole in general, but deep down he's a good guy with good morals. Even though he kinda wants to kill everyone, he won't because it's not right. Wow, that really makes me sound like a psychopath, doesn't it? Whoops. I promise I don't generally want to kill everyone? 4. Favorite line/paragraph/dialogue from your WIP? 'You... you're a monster.' Elsie breathed, the feeling of her heart shattering almost physically sickening. Her legs shook, threatening to give up on her.

'Me? I am merely rational. Your kind burn our homes, and take our trees. You use our wood to build your churches. You hoard our food, and use our wealth. You dig deep into the earth and take its riches. You hunt us, and burn us, and kill us. all the while preaching that we, we are the ones that are spawned of evil. That we are the ones who will drag you to hell. No child, I am no monster. You are the only monster here,' Nythilla spat, her eyes wild with a burning rage. 'And I will return this land to its former glory, if it is the last thing I do.' 5. Which genre does your WIP belong to? Fantasy, YA, Adventure? But at this stage I'm categorising it as fantasy. 6. Which author do you look up to? BRANDON SANDERSON, he is a beautiful thing. 7. How did you come up with the title? Is there a meaning behind it? Elsie is literally the only thing I can think of to call it at present, I'm hoping to find something better as I go. 8. Do you talk about your stories with your relatives? NO GOD NO NEVER I HATE TALKING TO PEOPLE I KNOW ABOUT MY WRITING. The only person I actually know that I talk to about it is my best friend. 9. Does writing dialogue or inner monologue come easier to you? Both come relatively easy, but I'd have to say inner monologue. 10. When did you start writing? I can't even remember. Probably when I was around 5 or 6?

Now my questions!

1- What inspired you to start writing?

2- How long have you been writing?

3- What is your development process?

4- How do you deal with writers block?

5- Are you or do you want to be published? How?

6- Who is the most complex character you’ve created, and how did you go about it?

7- What’s your favourite story trope(s)?

8- What’s your favourite character trope(?)

9- Do you prefer computers or pen and paper?

10- Is your workstation (If you have one) clean and organised, or messy?

Tagging @endless-minds, @forlornraven, @katywritesbooks, @theimportanceofbeingbookish, @reeseweston and @infinitelyblankpage bc I’m curious about you all, but feel free to ignore this :) Also feel free to do it and say I tagged you if you’re not up there haha

#tag games #meet the writer tag

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pyropsychiccollector · 6 years

Text

“Just… why did you do it, Komaeda?” Makoto asked, voice filled with anguish. “Why kill Fujisaki?”

The trial had concluded, and now they were all forced into the inevitable confrontation with the “villain”. None of them had expected the trial to go so “easily”, but Komaeda hadn’t put up much of a struggle to begin with. Deflected accusations at first, but never outright said, “I didn’t do it.” It was just very… bizarre. Even with Komaeda’s eccentric personality.

“Did you do it because you wanted to go home…?” Togami asked skeptically, an index finger touching his temple shrewdly.

Nagito spread out his arms, a massive grin going from ear to ear.

“That’s not it at all! I couldn’t care less about my own life! I would rather all of you somehow find a way to escape – even if it took sacrificing me. I’m nowhere near as indispensable as you amazing Ultimates…”

“Then…?” Kirigiri trailed off leadingly, expectant eyes on the white-haired boy.

Nagito gave that raspy laugh that set them all on edge…

“If I had to boil it down to one reason… I just wanted the killings to start! There’s nothing more to it, really!”

Celes’s brow furrowed.

“Then… you are a sociopath…?” He didn’t seem to fit the profile to a T, but appearances could be deceiving…

Nagito hugged himself as he looked down with a gleeful expression.

“No, no… I just think you’re all so amazing…! Even Makoto, with the same talent as me, has found a way to emit a beacon of Hope like the rest of you… From the bottom of my heart, I just wanted your Hopes to shine as brightly as they possibly could!” Nagito giggled to himself.

Hagakure ran a hand through his hair and grinned nervously.

“We can’t ‘shine’ if we’re dead, dude!”

Nagito made a gesture with his arm casually, beaming pleasantly.

“You think so? It’s true that deaths are tragic, but aren’t they just another struggle to overcome? For survivors to become stronger? Think about it! You’re all amazingly strong in your own rights, so just think how much stronger you can get, after overcoming trials of life and death! If you can overcome these trials… your Hope will be powerful enough to eradicate all Despair…! That’s the kind of Hope I wanted to bear witness to, even if I had to become a stepping stone to do it!”

Asahina whirled on him, tears brimming at her eyes.

“You’re insane…! I can’t believe Fujisaki got killed by a jerk like you! You’re just the worst!”

Nagito sighed wistfully, a hand on his waste as he looked down longingly.

“I am… I’m utter trash. I’m terrible with calculations, but I never anticipated Fujisaki would be the one to die… In truth, he was never a target! I sent that letter to Ishimaru to see how far he was willing to go… And if he hadn’t been prepared enough, then I simply would have tried to kill the person standing closest to me… A bit impromptu, I know, but if they were somehow able to overpower and kill me in the darkness, just think about how big the mystery would have been! They wouldn’t have done any of the preparations, and you might not have discovered all of the evidence that you did! My death would’ve been so peculiar! And yet… the winds of fate decided I would live…”

Sakura’s frown deepened, the more Nagito spoke. He was already a dead man walking, but he was talking as if he should be praised for this incident… Nothing of this was worthy of praise.

“Then why did Fujisaki wind up dead…? He acted as if he knew Ishimaru had night vision goggles in that duralumin case…”

“And he ran over to Komaeda, at that…” Leon grimaced as he tried to puzzle it out. “Are you sure you didn’t send Fujisaki a letter or anything?”

Nagito just laughed as he received glares of suspicion.

“I don’t blame you for suspecting me… I’ve proven I can’t be trusted.” The older Luckster then took an arrogant stance. “However, I was surprised as all of you that it was Fujisaki who tried to stop me… I thought for certain Hagakure had stumbled back into me, or that Ishimaru tripped. Either way, I knew someone had gotten killed… I could feel a great deal of blood splashing onto me, and there was that sound of a body collapsing… I made a calculated decision in that moment… Based on the sound of where the body fell, I suspected the person had neatly fallen beneath the table… I didn’t want to be caught with a bloody tablecloth after the lights came back on, so I managed to replace the cloth already on the table… In the end, a bit of blood ended up on the cloth I took with me back to the storage room, but it didn’t matter since no one searched me.”

Nagito shook his head side to side.

“I find it so strange Fujisaki charged me in the darkness like that… He didn’t say a word. One moment I could feel the fast approach of someone, and the next I could feel the blade tearing into sensitive, warm flesh… He didn’t even have time to cry out in pain, I suppose. Was he trying to disarm me? Commit a murder himself? Unless he wrote down his intentions somewhere, we’ll probably never know. In the end, I still killed him.”

There was a lengthy silence that followed Komaeda’s perspective of events… Naturally, he didn’t sound sorry at all, and no one could pity or sympathize with him… Even with him explicitly stating the reasons for his actions, no one could understand his fanaticism with hope… To a fair number of them, he was just a crazy psycho that they were glad wouldn’t be living with them anymore… They wouldn’t have to worry about him planning any other murders.

Getting along would be much easier to do without him around…

“Erm… Just to clarify, Mister Chihiro Fujisaki did not commit suicide… right…?” Yamada awkwardly asked. At that query, a number of them stiffened; if it had been a suicide, they would have gotten the vote wrong…

“Not to worry!” Monokuma cheerfully reassured the otaku, rubbing the back of his head bashfully. “Accident or not, Nagito Komaeda is the blackened, so only he will be executed! The rest of you will get to live your happy island lives~!”

… Why didn’t this feel like much of a victory…?

Nagito sighed dejectedly.

“Is it going to be time for me to say my farewells, then? It’s so disappointing that I won’t get to watch these beacons of Hope survive the trials to come… But I suppose it’s enough that I got them started on the right path.”

Mondo’s face grew purple out of rage as he roared at the older Luckster.

“The right path?! Like hell we’re going to start killing each other just ‘cause your punk ass killed Fujisaki…!”

Nagito chuckled lightly.

“Well, the ‘right’ path isn’t always the easy one… And you can strive to make sure there’s no more deaths, but you might not be able to keep up the resistance when Monokuma keeps presenting motives… But do not Despair! Death is natural, and you’ll only become stronger with each enemy you defeat! Future victims will be mere stepping stones…!”

“Shut up!!!” Mondo bellowed, having heard enough from the older Luckster. They all had.

Composing himself a little, Nagito straightened up and smiled… plainly. Like he wasn’t about to die.

“I really did enjoy our time together, short as it may have been… May we meet again in our next life.” Nagito sighed contentedly, leaving a good number of them frustrated that he wasn’t more panicked or regretful… This would be their last memory of Komaeda.

With nothing left to say, Monokuma smacked a big red button with a gavel, and an 8-bit pixelated version of Komaeda was dragged off by Monokuma on the screens above them. The real Komaeda was ensnared by a chain around his neck, and he was yanked into the elevator shaft before being dragged up… and up… and up…

~*~

Hajime stared at the computer screens with an empty expression as Nagito’s execution came to an unmerciful end. Beside him, Komaeda’s classmates were just as disturbed. The Luckster was fired up in a rocket that had a boomerang design to it… The rocket had all sorts of malfunctions during takeoff, but in spite of them, Komaeda cleared the stratosphere. That was when the rocket’s nonsensical design kicked in… and brought Komaeda hurtling back down to earth… And in spite of the crash-landing, Komaeda had somehow survived it through sheer luck…

Only for a Monokuma-shaped meteor to come crashing down on him. And the damn thing was on fire.

Hajime could see Mikan, Chiaki, and Miss Yukizome were crying. Fuyuhiko and Natsumi looked frustrated and angry. And Peko, Tanaka, Mitarai, and the Imposter all looked disturbed. Hajime himself felt disturbed by the bizarre execution that was, quite frankly, overkill. He didn’t know Komaeda well enough to be angry or sad like the others, though he’d comfort them in their grief.

Now more than ever, they needed to stick together.

“… I guess that’s it, then.” Fuyuhiko growled out through gritted teeth. He kicked the computer terminal next to him. Violently.

“H-He’s not… There’s not going to be any more executions like that, are there?” Mitarai whispered feebly, shrinking in on himself. Though they all wanted to answer in the negative… They knew it’d only be a matter of time now. Monokuma was skilled in exploiting weaknesses. They knew this.

“We just… have to retake control before the next motive happens…” Nanami mumbled dejectedly, returning to her workstation and try to communicate with Usami. Gekkogahara-senpai was trying everything on her end, even as the trial and execution were going.

“I’m going for a walk, then.” Fuyuhiko decided bitterly as he stomped out of the room, Peko at his heels.

The rest of them weren’t too sure what to do, so they stayed and watched the post-trial interactions. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Monokuma decided to not restore Class 78’s memories just yet, but it was also a relief… Because once the bear did restore their memories – if he could – then they would have a new set of problems…

~*~

Whether they liked it or not, life moved on after an uneasy night of rest. The fourteen survivors met up in the cafeteria shortly after the morning announcement, like they had in previous days. The morning greetings were reserved and awkward; it was clear no one was in the mood to talk.

Even if Komaeda had ‘deserved’ to die, there was still Fujisaki’s death weighing on all their minds.

Well… most of them were grieving, anyway.

“I see you’re all still moping.” Togami deadpanned, being the last to arrive. Mondo stood up aggressively as he raised his fist.

“What’d you say, you son of a bitch?!” The biker growled, temple throbbing.

The heir rolled his eyes.

“Come on. Are you seriously dwelling on either of them? Komaeda fired the first shot, and it’s clear Fujisaki had been up to something suspicious. Constantly thinking about that first murder, you can’t tell me not a single one of you is worried the person right next to you could snap next.”

That got more than a few of them to clam up. Asahina was quick to reject Togami’s pessimism, though.

“What the hell?! Two of our friends are dead, and you’re acting like they deserved it!”

“Didn’t they?” Togami asked mockingly. “Komaeda committed murder. Fujisaki did something as reckless as stealing night vision goggles, and then charged a man with a knife. You can’t even deny the possibility that Fujisaki wanted to leave this island!”

Makoto shook his head and looked down sadly.

“Even if it’s ‘possible’, I don’t think that was the case… There’s no way we can know what Fujisaki was trying to do. Not now. All we can do… is keep their memory alive. The kind of people they were before Monokuma came along.”

Togami just rolled his eyes, while everyone else seemed to lighten up a little from Makoto’s determination. While they did have doubts, Makoto’s optimism was much more appealing than suspecting everyone around them. It made life on the island… more bearable.

And then, like the optimism had summoned him, Monokuma appeared…

“I haven’t caught you all at a bad time, right? Good. One of my Monobeasts is missing!” The bear angrily grumbled.

Hagakure scratched his head in confusion.

“Huh…? You mean one of those gigantic robomonsters? How’d you lose one of those…?”

“Could it be… they were destroyed?!” Ishimaru asserted boldly.

Monokuma huffed in annoyance.

“I don’t know! But if you guys see it, tell it to return to its post! Geez… So undependable… If you kids don’t know, what could have happened to it…?” Monokuma muttered incomprehensibly before leaving as abruptly as he had appeared.

Leon grinned nervously.

“Could one of ‘em really have been destroyed…?”

Kirigiri ran a hand through her hair.

“That was clearly a façade. The bear’s shown he can be serious, and I doubt he’d take the destruction of his ‘beast’ so lightly. He wants us to check out another island…”

“That would seem to be the case…” Celes concurred, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

“Could it be some ‘reward’ for surviving the first trial…?” Mukuro mused.

Nobody was sure how to respond to that. If it took a class trial to open up one of those islands…

“Oooh… Don’t tell me you all worked it out so soon!” Monomi pouted as she appeared before them. Her paws were over her head fearfully, ears drooped down. “Let’s all get along…!”

… Well, that answered that question. Yet it raised so many others.

~*~

With a new island opened up, it didn’t take long for everyone to agree to explore the new island. About the only holdout was Fukawa, who decided to stay behind in her room. Everyone else went to investigate with the hopes of finding a way off of Jabberwock or of finding a clue behind the mastermind’s identity.

“So this is the new island…” Sayaka mused as she, Makoto, and Mukuro paused on the bridge and looked out at the second island. Some ruins could be seen, as well as an older-looking modern building, which gave this new island a different ambience from the one before it.

“We gain nothing from standing here, let’s move.” Mukuro remarked, and the three trudged on. Though the ruins had them the most curious, they decided to save those for last, instead checking out a diner and parking lot area first. Mondo was in the parking lot and looking around; they decided to let him be for now and peek into the diner, where Celes and Yamada were.

“You’re telling me… there isn’t any tea here, either…?” There was an edge to Celes’s tone that made Makoto and Sayaka nervous. Yamada, though, seemed unperturbed by the dark aura Celes was giving off, as he stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“This state of affairs is unacceptable!” The gambler roared, finally making the otaku reel back in terror… and Makoto and Sayaka, as well.

Celes could really change personalities on a dime, huh.

“N-Now, now, Miss Ludenberg… I’m certain if we searched the supermarket again…”

“They do not have the equipment to brew the milk with the tea! It must be royal milk tea!”

“Aiiieee! Y-Yes, Ms. Ludenberg…!”

Mukuro was left staring at Yamada and Celes’s antics for a while, before she realized Makoto and Sayaka had slipped out as quickly as they had entered. Feeling slightly annoyed the idol had gotten one up on her, the soldier hurried to catch up. It looked like their next destination was Chandler Beach, which was further up the small road leading to the diner, through a tunnel.

Unlike the beach from the first island, this one had a beach house, along with a few chairs and umbrellas spread throughout the beach. Sakura and Asahina were already out there, and Hagakure and Leon were in the beach house. Though it was a nice area, it didn’t offer any clues to the mastermind or a way off the island, so the trio moved on after a little investigating.

The next building they found was a pharmacy. Ishimaru seemed to be looking into it, taking stock of what was there. Nothing seemed out of place, so they moved on to the library, where Togami was… as well as Fukawa, who had claimed she was going to stay in her room…It became clear she was trying to follow Togami around, though.

The interesting thing about the library, aside from the books about serial killers that Fukawa seemed especially wary of, was the guidebook about Jabberwock Island. Within its contents, they found a number of contradictions – according to it, the five islands were supposedly furnished to be resorts, while the central island supposedly had an administrative building; the bronze statue of five animals in Jabberwock Park had been in the lobby of that administration building; and finally, according to the guidebook the only way to travel between the islands was by boat, as the plans to build bridges were scrapped due to environmentalists.

They relied on Togami to read the guidebook, since it was in another language. And they all assumed it was just an old one, since everything they’d seen contradicted it. Of course, Monokuma took that opportunity to show up and hint at the sinister group that had brought them to the island and stolen their memories, but he wouldn’t explain anything.

Once they were finished up examining the library, they all moved on to the ruins, where Kirigiri had called everyone. It sounded like she discovered something…

#Danganronpa #Hajime Hinata #Neo World Program #AU

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prorevenge · 6 years

Text

Teacher tells me I am lying about my mother having cancer.

This is a long one with TLDR at bottom

I went and found my friends to tell them what I had seen. We were all optimistic cause from a very short conversation she seemed quite informed and had a good background.

Then she started imposing stupid rules on us such as;

"You can't have the computer on while you are troubleshooting inside cause you could electrocute yourself"

"You don't need the case open to troubleshoot motherboard lights"

Or my personal favorite and the most scary

"maybe you should change the power supply to 240v if you aren't getting enough power"

M: What the hell do you think you are doing?

S: You shouldn't be on facebook or writing notes on a personal computer during class time, especially when your grades are slipping.

Thanks for bringing that up in front of everyone...

M: That gives you no right to touch my stuff! You better hope you didn't just corrupt everything! this laptop breaks easy.

S: Then you shouldn't have it out during class, keep that tone up and I'll see you get a detention.

At this point I am trying just to keep calm because if I get too emotional I have a tendency to explode. This is often made worse because of my mild autism. I took a second replied in a calmer tone.

M: I'm sorry, I'm just having a hard time at home right now... My mother was diagnosed with Colon Cancer and I am waiting to hear back.

And this is the part which REALLY set me off.

S: You don't look like a kid who's mother has cancer, quit making sob story excuses.

are you FUCKING kidding me‽

M: Sorry I am Late! I got held late at the hospital.

Someone but i'm not sure who asked her why she was at the hospital and if everything is okay. My mother answered in her happy way.

M: I was just getting my C̭̟̦̤̕A̰̣̰̼Ń͕̝̬C̵͕E̯R̥̫͇̹̳͝ checked on, Because I have cancer.

The room went cold and her voice seemingly dripped with blood when she said it, my computers teacher went pale and everyone in the room was giving a confused 'what on earth did you do' look

M: How dare you say something so careless to my son, I hope you are ashamed and I hope you don't get invited back for another year.

TLDR:

Shitty year long sub fucks us all over, tells me i am faking my mother's cancer and destroys another teachers personal property. Gets ripped into by mother with all my teachers and VP and P present. looses opportunity to work in my district or any surrounding for being unprofessional and not knowing her subject forcing everyone in her class to retake the next year.

(source) (story by flanigomik)

#pro revenge #by flanigomik #prorevenge #pro revenge stories #revenge stories #pro #revenge

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