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a-crash-in-time-collection · 8 months

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Chapter 43: Thoughts In The Sky

It was a little rainy that day. The type that you would barely notice aside from the occasional drop landing on the tip of your nose. It creates a peaceful feeling in the air. It's notably different from your normal, sunny, or cloudy days, yet it isn't a pouring mess that makes you cancel your plans. It would only be an issue if you were spending the day traveling for supplies. This happened to be the case for the group of toppats as they slowly approached the top of the mountain.

They all made this trip at least once before, so it wasn't that much of a change from what you would have expected. It shouldn't even be something to note. Just make sure anything that could be affected by the rain was wrapped up safely. And even then, that could be seen as an overreaction considering how little the rain was. Sven was already prepared for that though, he tended to be. That would be nice as long as no one else commented about it. At least this was the only trip they would need to take for almost the entirety of the next month if his calculations were correct.

As the lift they were on made contact with the mountainside, they all began to head out onto the Skyline ground. They didn't know how they missed this system of transportation in the beginning for so long, but that was beside the point now. Fredrick and Jaques got the boxes they brought out with them as Sven went to find the first place they needed to get to. Calla helped Burt out of the lift. She gave a smile as she glanced out over the distance. It was nice up here…

She and the others sat down nearby to properly rest from the trip from the crashed station to here. They had a chance in the lift, technically, but you didn't want to risk falling to your death with one wrong move because you weren't paying attention. Normally Right Hand Man would be there in case someone fell, but he had.. more important things to take care of that day. A frown came across Calla's face as she thought of that. She still didn't know exactly what happened to Hat Girl, but…

She felt a hand on her shoulder, glancing behind to see Burt looking at her with a hint of concern in his eyes. He pulled back his hand. "Are you alright?" He asked, tilting his head. "It isn't like you to be so…" He gave a faint shrug. "Sad," He said for the lack of a better word.

"I'm fine… It's just." She let out a small sigh as she rested her hands in her lap, drawing the other two's attention to her. She thought about whether she should continue speaking for a moment. Did her thoughts need to be said aloud when they were so obvious? "It's Hattie. Thinking about her.."

"It isn't fair what happened to her," Jaques said with a sigh, glancing to the side as he leaned back. The other four looked at him silently. Noticed the faint shake in his hands. They didn't comment on it, they knew better too. Even if he was one of them in terms of rank now, he was a leader of the clan. “I…don't want to get into it but. It's so easy to tell whatever those, jewel store felines did, it isn't gonna be gone for a long while."

"I just wish I knew what happened. It isn't mine, nor anyone else's place to know but.." Fredrick sighed as he leaned against Burt, the other man holding his hand. "I just.. she's so young. Whatever happened messed her up mentally and it just isn't right!"

Burt was quiet as he nodded. Fredrick had glanced at him when he said that, and both knew why he had. "I don't think we should be talking about this, at least this often," Burt said, looking at the group. Calla tilted her head, but Jaques gave a faint nod. "Everyone's been talking about it behind her and her family's backs," Burt said as he gently helped Fredrick straighten up. "They need the time and proper headspace to heal. You don't think they hear us? Do you think our words help?"

The group was silent for a moment as the rest thought about his words. "He does have a point. Doesn't apply much here since they aren't around, but he does have one." Jaques stated.

The conversation was interrupted by heavy footsteps against the ground. They all quickly shot to their feet and backed up toward one of the buildings as they watched the scene. One of the lazy paw cats jumped into view, dragging along a necklace whose centerpiece was as big as their head. One of the mountain goats was after it. The group didn't even see them yet, they could just see the looming shadow at the end of their sights. The cat jumped next to the lift as the sound of footsteps sped up.

For being half blind, Burt was the first to see what was going to happen as he pushed Calla and Fredrick down.

A loud crash filled the air as the cat just barely dodged out of the way of the charging Goat. As they made contact, the lift and the system attached to it broke, sending wood everywhere.

Jaques could barely stubble his way out of the way of some of the debris, falling to the floor in the process. A loud crash came over the other three's heads as a piece of metal slammed into the wall above them. Fredrick took a peek up, and let out a small shiver as part of his hat's top had been sliced off, and the metal was stuck in the hole it had made in the wall. He wasn't going to say he would have died if it hit him, but he didn't have hopes he wouldn't have. It seemed so clear.

The air was silent, except for the breathing of the goat as they stumbled back onto their feet.

"And that.." Jaques was the first to speak up, a small grunt to his voice as he got up from the ground. "Is an example of why I wanted to become immortal." He sighed as he dusted himself off.

"What on earth happened?!" Sven's voice suddenly called, the blonde man appearing with a bag, one of the nomads beside him.

"It wasn't our fault, and I'd argue it wasn't the goats either," Fredrick stated, glaring at the Lazy Paw just in time to catch them turning invisible. "Hey, get back here-"

"I don't think they would help us even if they listened," Calla said, taking a breath as she went over to Sven. The man looked over her for any hint of an inquiry as the Nomad walked up to the lift system to examine the damage. The air both lost and gained some tension. Lost some because everyone being okay, but gaining some from the anger of why that had even happened. "I don't think we're getting back to the station tonight." Calla let out a sigh. "I'm sorry Sven. We should have tried to stop it."

"Oh don't worry, this type of thing happens now and again." The Nomad said, glancing over at the group. "It isn't as bad as it looks, at least compared to the past. It should be fixed before the sun sets. You will still be here for longer than intended though."

Sven was silent for a moment. The group could see the stress building in his eyes but he didn't say anything aloud. Instead, he gave a nod and walked back over to the group, holding Calla's hand close.

No one said anything to him right away as he sat down. They wanted him to have a moment to try and think clearly. It was the least they could offer him.

Jaques went ahead and got the list from him, going over to the nomad and arranging a deal where they would go ahead and gather everything on the list for a bit more payment than usual. He could see Sven giving him a glare from the corner of his eyes but he didn't see any better solution here. They knew Sven wasn't gonna let the stress fade smoothly. Might as well go ahead and take the task of gathering everything off his shoulders. Jaques came back to the group after arranging everything.

"I heard there was a lake here," Calla spoke after a moment. "You think we can head there?"

Sven gave a nod. "Yeah… we can do that."

The lake was calm and peaceful when they got there. There was only a small family of Nomads near the edge on the other side of where they were.

"See Sven, this is nice," Calla said as she sat down on the grass, lending back a bit to glance up at the sky. Sven gave a small nod as he glanced down at her. He kept glancing at his phone to make sure his message to the chief was sent. "Reginald will understand."

"I know he will," Sven admitted with a sigh as he sat down. He glanced at her as she smiled, him offering a small one back. He glanced at the water, it almost seemed to glow like crystals. "It's just.." He sighed as he glanced down at the ground, Calla taking his hand as he turned his gaze back towards her. "It's hard not to worry about, anything."

"I know," Calla said with a sigh as she glanced over the water.

"It's just, so much has happened so quickly," Sven said as he glanced down at the ground again. His hands curled into fists on the ground, tearing off some blades of grass as he did. Calla let out a small 'ow' as he quickly let go of her hand. "Sorry." He said, bringing his hands back to himself before he did anything else. "With the Moonjumper Legend and what happened with Hat Girl.."

"Stress is annoying, we can all agree to that," Burt said as he walked up beside the two, glancing at them. Sven glared at him as he glanced out over the water. "But we can't let it bug us every moment. If we do, we just miss out more on stuff."

"Burt, did you get possessed or something?" Sven asked, getting a chuckle from the rest of the group. Burt even cracked a smile as he shook his head, Sven glaring at him as he climbed onto his feet. "I'm serious! You never speak like this!"

"If you have an issue with how I am now." Burt started with a shrug, before smirking. "Blame Fredrick." He said as he glanced at his boyfriend, who rolled his eyes with a shrug. "Besides, you guys always said to lighten up."

"Alright, stop the playful bantering before someone comes to check on us," Jaques said as he came back over after having walked away. He had managed to get ahold of some fishing poles, they all knew better than to ask how. They already knew the most likely answer. He sat one down by the water and did his best to cast one out into it. "Wait, I'm supposed to bait it first." He said, earning a chuckle from behind as he shrugged.

"Fifty-something years in a painting does mess up basic memory, huh?" Burt asked, to which Jaques just glared at him. Fredrick walked up beside the former leader. "Hey, what was.. you know?"

"Lonely, for one," Jaques said with a sigh. "I could see outside the painting but I couldn't.."

"I can't help but think of what would have happened." Sven said as he glanced ahead at the fellow man in blue. "If Burt and Fredrick weren't in that hall that day, or if Snatcher hadn't shown up"

"Oh please, help with my nightmares," Jaques said as he smiled. Sven shook his head a bit as he chuckled as well. He wasn't helping things, was he. At least people started to settle down it seemed. Calla leaned beside him as Fredrick took the other pole, Burt standing on a rock nearby. "It still feels weird to be out sometimes," Jaques admitted. "It feels great, don't get me wrong! And I feel like I am getting used to things again-"

"Jaques, pay attention to your line." Calla quickly said. The man only then noticed it was going deeper into the water and yanked his pole back, grinding his teeth as he pulled.

Frederick got up and helped the man step back as he pulled. It didn't seem to be that big or strong of a fish, Jaques just seemed to be shaky from a lack of practice. "Come on.."

The line was finally pulled up. It was a little bigger than they were expecting. It looked a lot more like a living version of the fish you would see in cartoons rather than an living creature. Then again, you could say that about a lot of this planet. It had purple scales with some red and blue ones spotted about. Jaques began to work on getting the hook free from its mouth without hurting the little thing. It jumped right out of his hands and back into the water.

"What fish is dumb enough to go after a hook that doesn't even have a worm?" Burt asked, Fredrick letting out a chuckle as he led against him, Burt mumbling as he wrapped his arm around him. Jaques shook his head as he cast his line in again. Hey, if it worked once it'll work again. Burt tilted his head as he walked up to the water, glancing in before glancing back at Jaques. "Weren't you fishing with the others the night they got stuck in that storm?" He asked, getting a nod.

"I never said my memory of recent events was perfect, to be fair," Jaques said, Sven, nodding as he glanced away from the lake. He walked up to the edge of the cliff piece they were on, staring below at where they would come from. Being this high up still had his nerves a bit shaken. Sure, it wouldn't kill anyone if they accidentally fell, but it would hurt a lot… He needed to try and cool down, he thought. "You alright Sven?" Jaques called as Sven turned back to the group with a slight smile.

"Yea. I'm fine." He said as he came back over. "Just… I don't know. Never been a fishing guy?"

"Ehh, same here. I just fell into the motions because my family did it so much growing up. Then again you can say that about… a lot of people probably." Fredrick said, glancing out away from the lake to some of the other peaks. His eyes almost seemed to light up when they landed on the Twilight Bell, glancing around to see the lift to that peak was still functional. "I know that light show isn't gonna be happening, but why don't we see what the Bell Realm looks like normally?"

"Did you just call it the bell realm?" Burt asked, Fredrick, shrugging as the others chuckled. Sven glanced over at Calla as he thought of that day in the bell. It was the last time he could recall having a close moment with her. He was sure there had been others since then, like during the cruise, but his mind tended to be so distracted. He didn't understand how she wasn't tired of it, or at least showed it. "I guess we can head there if you all want to. Just make sure we don't end up joining the ghosts in there." He paused as he got some looks. "What, I'm not all positive now."

Sven sighed as he began to head to the closest path to the lift. Jaqeus quickly dropped the pole to catch up with the group. Calla grabbed Sven's hand and smiled at him, and he did the same.

Sven's mind began to clear a bit more. It would be fine, he began to truly realize.

"So… In the off chance something does happen, we're all in agreement not to tell Reginald." He remarked.

"It's not him I'm worried about, it's Right," Jaques stated as he rolled his eyes. "He doesn't say much when anyone does anything dumb, but I swear if looks could kill." He sighed as the group nodded in agreement.

The bell was more quiet and peaceful than the last time they were there. Considering the last time they were in a panic trying to find the teens, it was easy to see why. There were also fewer people in general around to distract from the views. Just the ghostly goats and the strange versions of the dwellers form Subcon. Never got around to asking why they were here. It was almost strange how… it felt like hiking through the forest back on their earth. Expect it to be a ghostly realm rather than your everyday woods.

They looked around for a small while, exploring the parts they felt they could safely access without doing anything dumb. They eventually decided to relax in one of the… fountains. They weren't really fountains, but they were filled with water that seemed to be coming from somewhere. They found one they felt was safe enough, Calla dashing ahead into it with Fredrick following behind a moment later. Almost like kids at a water park really. Then again, did that part of someone ever die?

"Fredrick, be careful! I can't get over there quickly if something happens!" Burt called. "Oh, and you too Calla, I suppose." He added as he sat down on the ground, before leaning back, making sure his hair was still covering his bad eye as he glanced at the dark yet glowing sky. Sven was quiet as he glanced up as well, a little silent as he thought about what to say. "So, what are you two planning to do once we get back home?" Burt asked. "I'm finally going to try a game I fell in love with but never got around to playing."

"I'm starting to wonder if Sven's comment about you being possessed is true." Jaques said as he paced back and forth, hands to his side as he glanced up. "I don't know, really." He said with a shrug, glancing down at the ground, walking almost perfectly in pace with some unheard music. Sven glanced over at him and gave a hint of a frown. Jaques was smiling, though. "I guess I'll see when we get there. Sven?" He glanced over at the blonde.

"I don't know. Knowing me I'll probably just fall into my old habits like we haven't spent, probably a year by that point, on an alien planet." Sven let out a sigh as he looked at the ground, resting his hand against it. He was so used to touching smooth surfaces or paper. There were times where he almost forgot what the ground itself felt like. He glanced up at the sky. "I don't mean too. It's just.. a habit of needing to get work done I can't explain. Even when resting my mind is always thinking about the clan."

"You were made third in command early into your toppat life if I was told was correct." Burt said as he glanced over at him faintly. Sven gave a small nod as Jaques sat on the ledge of the bridge they were on. "I know the feeling of focusing a lot of work. It's not the exact same as you but i can understand." Burt sighed as Sven glanced over with a faint head tilt. "For me it's more numb, just going through the motions of life. For you, I think to your brain it is your life."

"Maybe? It feels like you read me like a book but, I don't know." He sighed. "I'm not trying to be a downer, I just.." He sighed as he shrugged, slowly standing up. He took his hat off his head to more easily wipe away some sweat, and glanced at it. It had been dulled faintly over the years of use, but it was still as good of condition as the day he got it. "I mean… I have been in the clan since a bit before Reginald took leadership… was that, like, a decade ago or something?"

"A decade? How old were you at the time, eighteen? You look great for someone who's gonna be pushing thirty." Jaques said. That earned a small chuckle from Sven, not from the words but from the shock in Jaques voice. He would say Jaques should know, but he was in storage during Terrance's and Reginald's leadership, pre-orbital station. "Look, we all get wrapped up with the clan. It is our life, our family."

"I know, but it's still… hard to balance my work life balance I guess, everyone else can do so just fine." He sighed as he walked closer to where the water was, sitting on the edge. He could catch the shadows of Calla and Fredrick whispering to each other, but didn't think anything of it. Was he even good enough for Calla with how much he struggled with- His thoughts were cut off as he suddenly found himself soaked with a splash. "What the-" He glanced up as Calla garbed his hat.

"Fredrick, catch!" Calla said, tossing his head to the man before racing back into the area. Sven felt himself blushing as he got back up, quickly taking his shoes and socks off to prevent them from getting wet before jumping onto the watery slope to get it back. He almost slid onto the ground but Calla quickly came by to help him balance, letting out a giggle. "You better hurry." She said playfully as she slid back, almost like she was ice skating. "I.. don't have any other reason."

"And they're acting more like kids at a water park now." Burt commented as he glanced at the group. He couldn't see all that was happening well, they kept jumping in and out of his line of sight as Sven stumbled trying to get his hat back. But he couldn't help but smile. He glanced over as he looked at Jaques, who was watching with a hint of temptation in his eyes. "Go ahead." Burt said as he began to stand up. "I can afford to be the adult here. I can think of an explanation later if need be."

"Well, if you insist, I better help the poor man." Jaques smirked as he just dashed into the water… and had to catch himself from falling face first. Sven quickly stumbled over to help him up, but Jaques was already laughing. Sven found himself smiling despite how annoyed he was. He supposed there was just this hint of a trill he hadn't felt in awhile. Jaques glanced at Fredrick. "You better hope I don't get your hat before Sven gets his, or it's gonna get moldy. Does that… make sense?" He asked as Fredrick backed up.

"Come here and find out." Fredrick started with a smirk as Sven and Jaques went after them. Burt watched from the sidelines with a smile as the chaos formed in front of him. He didn't feel safe joining himself but Fredrick was having fun, and that was all that mattered. Sven seemed to start genuinely having a fun time too though, even as Calla and Fredrick kept playing what was basically a game of monkey in the middle. It didn't stop until Fredrick slipped and fell, his back hitting against one of the sides hard.

"Woah, that's enough!" Calla said, Burt taking Jaques hand so he could get over to Fredrick. The man rubbed his back with a grone, but there was still a bit of a chuckle in his voice. Burt began to scan him over, as Calla handed Sven back his hat. "Sorry, we just wanted you to have fun." She said, Sven smiling at her as he took it. She glanced up, seeing an area they hadn't gone to yet. "Fredrick, do you think you can walk?" She got a thumbs up. "Wanna go higher?"

"I would say that's a bad idea but, as long as we don't start playing tag or something it should be fine." Sven said, glancing up as he went to grab his shoes. He felt more at peace now. Not perfectly, there were still worries and issues dancing around in the back of his mind. But he could try and hold them in for a few minutes at least, he reasoned. He glanced over at the others. "What do you all think?" He got nods from the rest of the group. "What's with us all nodding and not just answering aloud."

"Don't give us a crisis." Jaques said as he helped Burt and Fredrick get off the water platform, Burt making sure his eye was covered again. Sven had caught a glimpse of the eye behind the hair and suddenly had a question, but this wasn't the exact moment. He began to lead the group forward after a moment, wanting to scan ahead in case something blocked their path. "You know, it's strange that places like this are even possible to exist." Jaques said. "I know it's another planet, but.."

"I mean, you should see some of the stuff that happens on our world anymore." Burt said with a shrug.

Jaques seemed to tilt his head as he processed the information.

"Should I be concerned when we begin to head home then?" Jaques asked, getting small chuckles from the group and an eye roll from Burt. "What, I'm being serious!"

After they were all done in the Twilight Bell, the group decided to head to the Lava cake. They had already tested their luck in ways today, what was the worst that could happen here? But in reality, they wanted to get their clothes dried off from the water before they headed back and decided that was the best place to do so. Luckily they didn't need to be super close to the cake to get the heat they needed. They just sat on some benches a good eight-miles away from the cake and that was enough.

It looked like the sun was due to start setting soon, and that did bring some worry back into all of them. They should be about half way home by now at least. But things would be fine, they would reassure themselves. Even if they had to stay here for a night in the worst case scenario, they would at least have each other. A;though knowing they're luck, they were probably missing something amazing at the orbital station. But oh well, it couldn't be helped. That was just life, wasn't it.

That thought rested in Sven' brain for a moment, bringing some peace. Yea, stuff like that was just life. So were the incidents that happened.

"Hey Jaques, I know we ask you jokingly all the time about the dirt you have on other people, but I have to say I am genuinely curious." Sven said as he glanced over at the man, who had been picking up any small stone in his grasp and tossing them out over the edge. Jaques glanced over with a head tilt as the others looked over with some interest in the topic being brought up. "I know you were in storage for the last few decades but, you know anything about anyone still around today."

"Only bits and pieces. You should have seen Mr. Macbeth when he was younger. He was like Platinum but, calmer." Jaques started with a hum, barely noticing the looks everyone gave each other at the statement. To compare Platinum and Macbeth in the same breath so casually like that was so odd. "I still wonder what happened that changed him. He still looks like he hasn't gotten good sleep in awhile." Jaques sighed as he tossed another rock, with less energy to his throw. "Wonder if being revived helped with that."

"Probably not." Sven sighed as he got up stretching a bit. "If anything, he's probably worried his revival is tied to the.. you know."

"You do have a point, huh." Fredrick said, glancing at Sven who rested his head in his hands for a moment. Had that really never crossed his mind? Of course it wouldn't, he realized. This was his mind he was talking about. Fredrick stood up and walked up beside Calla, giving her a faint glance before beginning to speak again. "For all we know, riches and greatness could be waiting for us." Jaques gave a chuckle as Fredrick shrugged. "Probably not, but I don't think he's gonna cause us any real harm. I mean, why would he?"

"Why are we all so paranoid about the Moonjumper's Second coming anyway?" Calla stated like she had some to some grand realization, sitting up from where she had been leaning against Sven had glanced at the others. Burt went to give some answer or comment but found himself unable to think of either. So he just, gave a shrug with a look of 'isn't it obvious'.

"Yes, our clan or at least Hat Girl being tied to the prophecy is scary, no denying that. But the prophecy doesn't say anything bad will happen."

"He would like to cause trouble. I just get that vibe from those images I’ve seen… I am using that word correctly, right?" Jaques asked as he glanced at the others. They all had to hold in their stickers, they already bugged him enough with painting and being stuck in time stuff. They could afford to show a little respect to him. Jaques shook his head as he adjusted his gloves. "But I don't think he would cause us harm if we don't cause him harm first. So maybe we can just…relax?"

"Yea… If only it was that simple for Hat Girl." Sven sighed. He whispered the final part of that to himself, but he was sure they heard it as well. She was directly tied into the prophecy, where the clan's involvement was just implied. She had a lot more stress on her plate then they did. That wasn't going to mix well with the… no.. no thinking of that for now. "She'll be fine, she's always fine no matter what happens. When the Moonjumper comes, she'll do her part and it'll be over with."

"And in the chance the Moonjumper does try a fight with her or, anyone. We have him outnumbered." Jaques said, glancing at where his gun was held as Burt nodded. Jaques couldn't help but frown, however. Why did he feel some string of guilt saying those words? Why did he have this strange feeling that the Moonjumper wasn't just going to be friendly, but someone the clan already knew? "We'll be fine." He said to reassure himself, and the others. "Let's just try and worry about it when the time comes."

"Which could be any moment" Burt stated as he glanced away from the sun, looking for any hint of the rising moon. You think they would have long since spotted it by now, but alias, no sight. That brought some feeling to Burt. He didn't know if it was unnerved or at ease, or some strange mix of both. He felt it fade as Fredrick sat beside him, instead being replaced by a warmth he tried not to show. "But for now, leave the story for the story people. Let's just… live I guess? I need coffee." He got a glare from Fredrick. "I’ve gone five days without it while having access, what more do you want?"

"I swear the only reason you're even remotely positive in the way you’ve been is because of the hype for the third game!" Fredrick said, letting out what suddenly felt like a huff as he covered his face while Burt rolled his eyes. Everyone could catch the faint smile he had though. No one said anything, but they all saw it. Burt suddenly pulled him closely, giving a smirk as he blushed. "Oh come on, now you're just trying to embarass me! Can't you give me a break about this kind of thing."

"Oh, posso romperti." Burt said, and Fredrick pushed him away with an angry look and a small chuckle. He couldn't really hide that he found the situation a little funny. “Hey, you say I drive you crazy sometimes so why..” Burt paused as he glanced back over the view, standing up and walking to the closest view of the main peak he could get. He pulled out his phone and used the camera as a very blurry telescope. "Hey, I think they fixed the lift." He called as the others looked over. "I think they got everything we need there as well."

"Perfect!" Sven said, immediately heading to the exit of this peak. "We can get back home and not have to worry about anything else… Today was fun though, I'll admit. Even if I was on the side a lot."

"No, not a tank. Platinum will take it before we can use it." Fredrick sighed with frustration as Sven opened the door to the lift once they got there, glancing down at the next peak they would have to go too. Apparently there were less of these systems when Hat Girl was first on this planet, Sven had no idea how anyone got around alive. Fredrick glanced at Burt. "You know what, spare some coffee for me tomorrow because I have a weird feeling I won't sleep much tonight despite everything."

"Well, maybe next time you'll be more in the action." Calla said, warping her arms around him from behind as he laughed a little, holding one of her hands. Making sure to be more careful this time. That he didn't hurt her. He didn't want to hurt her or the others. Not after all they did to him. He heard her let out a yawn as she let go, heading up to his side. "I'm not looking forward to walking all that way back though." She said, getting a groan from Fredrick. "We need a tank or something."

"Yes, my plan is working." Burt said with a smirk on his face. Fredrick rolled his eyes at that as Jaques shook his head. "Soon you will know the joy of coffee and bow before it-"

Sven shook his head as he heard the two start to bicker. They were like an old married couple already… Oh well, it would help keep them awake on the way back.

It felt like they were going to pass out as they were finally in the home stretch of the way back. Subcon's haunted purple turned into the orange and brown that had become the forest clearing. They all did everything to keep each other sane and awake, talking about what had happened that day and stopping to snack if they started to feel lightheaded. Despite it all, the conversation four of the five had before the lift was broken was still in the back of their minds. The thoughts about one poor child…

They weren't really expecting too see anyone still up when they finally got back, besides maybe Right Hand Man or Macbeth. It had to be past midnight, maybe somewhere close to 4am. They were met with a slight surprise. Hat Girl, Platinum, and Van were racing around in the dark, all wearing some glow sticks they had found while Reginald, Right, and Macbeth watched. It was the first time any of them had properly seen Hat Girl out of her room. She still had a faint, hurt look in her eyes and the way she moved.

But she was comfortable being out now, it seemed. That was good. Her Rumbi was even out, chasing after her while Alexsandera followed behind.

Right leaded back a bit, and that was when he noticed the group. "T'ere ya are, we were startin' to get worried!" He called out to them, quickly saying something else to Reginald before he got up. Sven tried to straighten his posture to at least appear more personal than he was feeling, but that likely wouldn't have done much help. Right eyed the group as he got close. "Are ya all really ok? Ya look like ye were lost in t'e jungle for twenty years or somethin'. Would 'ave come out-"

"No, it's fine. You had other things to worry about." Sven said, shaking his head. He glanced at the others as Calla sat down on a rock to rub her feet, and Jaques was already heading into the station to sleep. Burt and Fredrick were talking to each other, seemingly just to kill time until one of them decided to head to bed for the night. Sven couldn't help but smile, even as he sighed. "I didn't get a chance to do a proper double check, so we might have to sort out a few things. I can check tomorrow for you though."

"Sven! I was wondering where you guys were." Hat Girl said as she came up to him and Right, Rumbi bouncing and beeping by her feet. Sven gave a polite smile. Her voice had less energy than normal, her movements were slower. But they couldn't blame her. He just gave a wave as Hat Girl picked up Rumbi as he went to bump into one of the boxes, letting out a small chuckle. "How were the Skylines? Did you see Adalyn?" Sven shook his head. "Huh, kind of a surprised actually considering how much she appeared lately."

"Yea, things just happen." He let out a yawn as he glanced over at Calla, who was rubbing her eyes as she glanced at him. He let out a small chuckle as he looked at the two. "I'm going to head to bed before I lose any brain cells. I'll see you two tomorrow?" He asked, Hat Girl giving a faint shrug. At least she was being honest. He walked over and offered his hand to Calla, helping her up as they began to head back into the station, the other couple following not long after. Once they had left, Macbeth walked up to the father and daughter.

Hat Girl let out a bit of a yawn before she sighed, holding her Rumbi closed. The air got quieter, and Van and Platinum stopped chasing each other to glance over at her.

"Alright, it's already way past w'en yer supposed to be asleep, Hattie." Right said.

"I know, I know… Before I head off, can I ask something?" She looked at him, a more serious tone to her voice. It was faint, but it was enough for the group to pick it up. Reginald placed a hand on her shoulder, having started to come up once the group that came back from skyline left. "I, been thinking for a bit about it."

"What is it?" Reginald asked, trying his best to hold in his concern.

"Do you remember that stone piece I showed all of you? The one with… you know?" She asked, getting some nods. "I want to head back to those ruins, see if there's anything I missed. I know I should just let things happen naturally but, I feel like I missed something. And, I dunno. Maybe It could help me feel more at peace?"

The group was silent for a moment. Macbeth waved over Alexandra to get him to focus on something else, or appear to at least. This was between the leaders and their child after all.

Reginald and Right both shared a look for a moment. It was kinda funny, how just a look and basic body gestures could be all that was needed to communicate without words. Both were worried, maybe even scared about what would happen if she did. But at the same time, both knew that she had a point. And anything that might give a chance to put their daughter's mind at ease after everything, it would be the best thing they could do.

"We can't, say for certain yet. But we'll talk about it… You just head to bed and we'll see you at breakfast tomorrow?" Reginald asked, Hat Girl giving a nod. "Good.. Platy, can you-"

"She's old enough to take herself you know." Platinum said with a chuckle, but still walked up and took his sisters hand before leading them away from the adults. Van watched the two for a moment before making the briefest of eye contact with the leaders, before beginning to head to their own room.

"If s'e is gonna go back to t'at place, I'm goin' with 'er." Right assured once the group was out of earshot, crossing his arms. "I can't risk somet'in' like t'at broken tower fallin' with 'er in it again."

"I can come too." Macbeth offered, glancing at the two. They both glanced at him and he was silent for a moment, before sighing as he let Alexsandera rest in his arms. "I just.. I want to know more about the Moonjumper. I can't, describe why but it feels like I'm supposed to know more. Like it's the real reason I was brought back. Besides," He patted the Dweller on their head. "My child is from Subcon. I feel like they deserve to know everything they can."

"I'll see if I can find a day with both of you clear to do that." Reginald sighed. He was too tired to add much more to the conversation right now, and he could discuss any extra details with Right the next morning. "Could be sometime next week, could be a month from now, who knows… I just want you all to be careful."

"When am I not careful?" Mr. Macbeth asked, earning a small shrug from the chief. Alexsandera's movements slowed, warping the lower part of their tail around his arm. "I'm gonna take Alex to bed now. You can let me know if any arrangements are made after the next meeting." He said as he went back to the station.

Reginald let out a sigh as he rested his head in his hand, Right wrapping his arm around his husband. Partly as support since the cyborg thought Reginald might just collapse at any moment. "I don't want things to get worse.." he said as he leaned against him.

Right took Reginald's other hand and held it. "Trust me, love, I know."

#a hat in time #the henry stickmin collection #hat girl #hat kid #henry stickmin oc #right hand man #a hat in time fanfic #henry stickmin mr. macbeth #henry stickmin fanfic #burt curtis #fredrick muenster #chessey headphones #sven svensson #jaques kensington #ahit goats #ahit nomads

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moonygryffin · 9 months

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The Goat bringing baby Sven back to her wife the head of the submarine division Janaki Dakkar for them to adopt

#thsc #the henry stickmin collection #thsc ocs #sven svensson #Janaki Dakkar #The Goat #they are Sven’s pirate moms #the submarine is named the Ammonite~

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loonysama · 1 year

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Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Frozen (Disney Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Anna/Kristoff (Disney) Characters: Kristoff (Disney), Anna (Disney), Sven (Disney: Frozen), Elsa (Disney), Olaf (Disney) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Kristanna Harvest Day 2021 (Disney), Neighbors, Harvest Day, Apples, True Love, Sheep & Goats, Aunt Elsa (Disney), References to Norse Religion & Lore, Friends to Lovers Summary:

Kristoff had been giving Anna baskets of his best apples for her Harvest Day pies for years, but he was always too shy to express his affection in any other way. Everything changed, though, when Anna got a goat named Sven with a taste for apples.

#frozen #frozen fanfic #kristanna #iduna's apple #harvest day #sven's a goat

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therealdeathoracle · 1 year

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I have a bunch of quotes from my old coworkers at my last job so I made incorrect quotes from the bsd characters. If this one is liked I can make another with quotes from my family I also have

Ranpo: “Jesus Christ it’s Pretzel Borne.”

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Kenji: *accidentally kicks the water fountain*

Atsushi: *holds out hand* “Stop it.”

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Kunikida: “Don’t worry, we made it, Dazai’s gone.”

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Dazai: “Olaf doesn’t turn me on, but Sven does.”

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Akutagawa: *in the distance and very unenthusiastically* “Run Forest run.”

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Nikolai: *in a bad Russian accent* “OH MY GOATS! FYODOR, BRING IN THE AR15!″

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Atsushi: *playing with a cup of straws*

Kyouka: *takes the cup away to put more straws in it*

Atsushi: *trying to grab the cup* “Why?!”

Kyouka: *hands the cup back*

Atsushi: *knocks cup over and throws straws everywhere* “Am cat.” *runs away*

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(All over a radio)

Fukuzawa: *talking loudly*

Ranpo: *cringes really hard*

Fukuzawa: “Mind your business Ranpo.”

Ranpo: “You’re making my ears bleed, Fukuzawa.”

Fukuzawa: *quieter* “Oh, really?”

Ranpo: “Yeah, it’s fine though.”

Fukuzawa: *whispering* “Oh you sweet child, I am so sorry.”

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Ranpo, Kenji and Dazai: *chanting cheese*

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Teruko: “Jouno was in a good mood today.”

Tachihara: “Oh? Something must’ve happened, did Tecchou die?”

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Dazai and Ranpo: *aggressively singing Africa*

Atsushi: *starts playing Africa on his phone*

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Chuuya: “Hi, would you mind signing your rights away real quick?”

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Tecchou: *whispering* “Jouno”

Jouno: *screaming from the other side of the building* “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT NOW TECCHOU?”

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Ranpo: “DAD NO!” *oven starts screaming*

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Kunikida: “The world is gonna end in 3 months, but you don’t care! You don’t care about inflation!”

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Yosano to Dazai: “If you fall on the box cutter and bleed out and die then can we use you as a promotion for Suicide Squad?”

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Dazai: “What’s the best way to traumatize a child? Shave their head!”

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Kunikda: *puts an American flag pin he found on the floor on his shirt and immediately takes it off* “Actually in hindsight I don’t want someone to think I’m a crazy republican... I’ll give it to Dazai.”

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Chuuya: “Have fun.”

Akutagawa: “I won’t but thank you though.”

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Kyouka: “Do you want to see my PowerPoint on Halloween costumes?”

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Nikolai: *in a bad Italian accent* “It’s a me a Mario you dirty ass bitch!”

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Akutagawa: “Are you having fun?”

Gin: “No... are you?”

Akutagawa: “No.”

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Dazai: “I do need serious help, but not for this.”

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Ranpo: “My mouth is like a popper.” *starts making pop cat sounds*

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Atsushi: “Kyouka! You’re fucking crazy!”

Kyouka: *holding an extremely hot piece of metal with her bare hands* “I’m sorry?”

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Ranpo: *sitting on the floor in a massive pile of popcorn* “So... uh... Santa’s sack broke?”

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Yosano: *finding out she has covid at 11:59 on New Year’s Eve* “WELL HAPPY NEW YEAR I GUESS!”

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Ranpo: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?”

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Kenji: “Let’s play Pictionary!”

Dazai: “Oh no.”

Kenji: “AND NO IT IS NOT A PENIS!”

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Chuuya: *high out of his mind* “I am not high, I am medicated.”

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Fukuzawa: “I AM THE PRESIDENT!”

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Akutagawa: “Why do you need a little hole?”

Chuuya: “Just in case, you know?”

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Dazai: *stamps Kunikida with a void stamp* “You didn’t get a D!”

Kunikida: *grabbing his pants* “Then what’s this?”

Dazai: “Not a D.”

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Tecchou: “Cooled pillow water would be a great invention.”

Jouno: “I am terrified by what cooled pillow water could be.”

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Chuuya: “What kind of boss do you think I am? A good one??”

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Gin: “Behead him!”

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Chuuya: “What did you say to me?”

Akutagawa: “Gin said you’re the coolest guy she’s ever met.”

Gin: “No no, get your facts straight. I said, YO CHUUYA THE COOLEST MOTHERFUCKER I’VE EVER MET!”

Chuuya: “Now that’s more accurate.”

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Tecchou: *still talking about what cooled pillow water would be*

Jouno: “You are not going to convince me that you didn’t piss on your pillow and are trying to make up for it.”

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Fukuzawa: “Do I ask why you chose to play a female gnome and not a male?”

Ranpo: “We needed a minority.”

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Ranpo: *extremely offended* “Do you not like pepper on your salt?”

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Dazai: “Chuuya is a World War II!”

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Kenji: “As an empath I sense you’re having love troubles.”

Dazai: “Nah man that’s just the depression.”

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Chuuya and Dazai: *Thursday, August 25th 2022, 2:30pm-9:00pm... Incident: The “Fuck You” Day*

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Dazai: “You know what?... Unfucks your mom!”

Akutagawa: “My mom?”

Dazai: “Yes.”

Akutagawa: “Ok.”

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Chuuya: “I just fucking wanna get these balls in... DON’T take that out of context!”

@stinkyme

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beastren · 7 days

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∞ Arisen & Pawn Character Introductions

original template by @arisenreborn :D

♛ THE ARISEN:

NAME: Nimh AGE: 23 RACE: Half-elf PRONOUNS: She/her PREFERRED VOCATION: Warfarer FAVORED GIFTS: Gems, things to make food with, particularly (princess) harspuds. FAMILY: Elf father, human mother.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Brave, hard-working, largely unconcerned with things she deems trivial, so it helps her have a good sense of drive/focus, but can also make her some across as uncaring. NEGATIVE TRAITS: Rash, reckless, impulsive, particularly in high-pressure moments, like if Lir gets downed. Easily frustrated. LIKES: Goats, books, small creeks. DISLIKES: The cold. Glyndwr. She doesn't have the best impression of elves in general, but also not the worst. Medusas.

1. What was their life like before becoming Arisen?

She lived on a small farm with her parents until she was about 16, when she decided to start traveling and doing odd jobs around Vermund, which is how she ended up as a sell-sword in Melve when the dragon attacked. Her family lived a decent bit away from any settlement, although they would go into the nearest towns to shop and trade every so often. She didn't have many friends because of this, so she took up reading from a young age, and it was her main hobby, aside from helping on the farm, which she did genuinely love.

2. How do they handle being Arisen, and the responsibilities that come with it?

She handles it pretty well, at the beginning, after she's gotten her memories back. The point where she didn't have them was quite rough though, and of course it gets rough later on when more things start feeling at stake. In the AU where she brings about the Unmoored World it's a bit horrifying, it's the absolute worst thing she could've ever imagined and the only things that get her through are the urge to set thing's right and Lir's determination.

3. What are their thoughts on Pawns in general?

Just fine! Not good or bad, and both before and after becoming an arisen she was inclined to see them as Just People, albeit with a bit more nuance later on.

4. What's their relationship like with their main Pawn?

Complicated and simple at the same time. Due to her love of books as a child, particularly tales of knights and princes, Lir was born from an idealized image of those figures. While he was made for her to fall in love with and be a crutch/wish fulfillment in a way, she also always struggled with attachment and attraction to men. It's not that she wasn't, but it happened very rarely. So between that, and also how convoluted, intense and unique the bond between arisen and main pawn can be, she spends a lot of time figuring out what might be projection or miss-attributed feelings. She does come to very much genuinely love him for him though, throughout their journey. More on this in Lir's paragraph on his feelings for Nimh and how he's changed.

5. Do they have any interest in being Sovran? What are their opinions on the politics of the world in general?

No interest in it at all smh.... She's definitely just handing the responsibility off to Sven lol. She was happy in her late teens/early 20's to be away from home and the farm, but as she goes through her journey as Arisen she finds herself longing for it again more than anything. So she really hopes Sven would also be willing to fund her getting a little farm of her own somewhere.... Maybe she could renovate those couple destroyed buildings overrun by saurians by the fields of Vernworth.... As she'd also hate to be too far from people again.

6. Who are their love interest(s) and/or closest friends?

Wilhelmina is her love interest, aside from Lir.... Wilhelmina kissing her to save her from the guards was her bi awakening lol. As for close friends, she gets along well with Menella and Brant. She likes to visit Waldhar too, as he becomes a great supply of books and is someone she can talk about them to. She likes hanging out with Ulrika and Fyoran when she visits Harve as well. Beren as well, and although she doesn't spend much time with him, he's one of the only people she truly feels she won't be judged for being quiet around.

7. What drew them to their preferred vocation? Do they have history with it?

She hates being limited (read: not being able to reach areas), so always being able to pull out a staff and levitate, or to pull out a magick bow to shoot enemies out of the sky or hit multiple targets is something she quickly finds she can't go back from once she has it. Though she usually equips all 4 of her skill slots with skills from one vocation anyway, mainly mystic spearhand and occasionally thief.

8. Do they have any hobbies? Any way of relaxing between all that monster-slaying and traveling?

Reading!! But also she at least does very much enjoy camping and making good food for everyone, especially finding ways to go above and beyond the default slab of meat. Maybe THIS is her secret to getting Lir to be so strong.... She also likes petting and playing with farm animals. She will often wander out into the fields outside of Vernworth to do this....

♟︎ THE PAWN:

NAME: Lir AGE: 24 RACE: Beastren PRONOUNS: He/him PREFERRED VOCATION: Warrior FAVORED GIFTS: Berries, delicately but pleasantly fragranced soaps. Handmade things and kind gestures in general. INCLINATION: Kindhearted

POSITIVE TRAITS: Kind, strong, loyal and sweet. NEGATIVE TRAITS: Self-sacrificing, can be a bit clueless. Clumsy around deep water. LIKES: Shallow water and baths, hot springs.... He enjoys traveling and seeing interesting sights but there's nothing better than a warm comfortable bed. DISLIKES: Deep water and the brine.... Dragonsplague....

1. What was their life like prior to being summoned by their Arisen?

Nothing much to note here! Just a foggy consciousness in the rift.... Nimh is his first and only arisen!

2. What is their opinion on the Arisen? How do they view their relationship?

He looks up to her a lot, before anything else. At first he's quite compelled by Nimh's will and her projection of it, as his arisen, onto him, and sort of loves her blindly for a while. But even at the start, part of his awe and wonder towards her is certainly genuine. More on this in the "how have they changed" section below.

3. Is there anything about the Arisen they find troublesome? Be it a small quirk or bad habit? (Or are they obviously flawless?)

He holds her in too high of a regard to think of any of her traits as too much of a flaw, but if he had to say some things, it'd be her recklessness when worrying over him, but also her difficulty at times with communication. Although they work together very well in battle, and there is a certain amount Lir can kind of just Sense off of her, there was a period in the middle of their journey (about the time they reached Battahl) where the two grew rather distant. Largely because Nimh was having difficulties sorting through her feelings for both Lir and Wilhelmina, and also just struggling as enemies got harsher in Battahl. This lead her to neglecting him a bit and just not talking to him about anything she was going through, which Lir would've absolutely preferred and believes would've saved them a lot of trouble. They do eventually have a breaking point where they work things out and grow closer than ever before.

4. What is their specialization and is there any story behind how they cultivated that skill set?

Chirurgeon!! He was a Logistician at first, but Nimh wold get frustrated at him crafting salubrious draught all the time before she could wait for fruit to ripen and dry to make roborant.... She decided to channel his affinity for curatives and his kindhearted nature into a specialization where he could look out for their party more directly.

5. Do they have any thoughts on the politics of the world and their place in it as a Pawn - or how Pawns are treated?

Lir can be very sensitive to it, feeling lots of grief at the ways pawns get mistreated in Battahl. It's extra odd for him being a beastren pawn as well.... But part of him does understand why they feel that way considering dragonsplauge, but it hurts nonetheless. He wants to be hopeful since Nadinia seems open-minded, but he wonders how much of what Phaesus does she truly knows about.

6. Does their journey with the Arisen change them in any significant way and how?

During the rough patch between Nimh and Lir, he starts to gain his own will bit by bit. At first this and the general circumstances do draw them apart, but Lir takes the time to ponder and sort out his own genuine, developing feelings. It's hard to sort out and get rid of Nimh's will completely, so things continue to be complicated, but Nimh is very wary of this and that isn't lost on Lir. He doesn't ever bring his feelings up directly for quite a long time because of this, although he does keep up his sweet manner of speech full of admiration as it is kind of second nature by now, albeit with a bit more Meaning. To keep the rest of this short, in one AU Lir, Nimh and Wilhelmina all end up happily together, retired at their farm with Sven as sovran. In another, they decide to bitter-sweetly part ways after everything so Lir can travel and become truly his own self. And there's also the unmoored world AU ofc.

7. Is there a reason they chose their preferred vocation?

In game he comments on this a lot lol, he loves being a warrior. Sometimes he even asks to be a warrior WHILE he's a warrior. Initially he was a fighter, influenced by Nimh's vision of a princely knight. But he felt a little stagnant after reaching max rank so they had him try out warrior and he just instantly thrived, he felt a lot more helpful/capable/powerful too, so it just stuck!!

8. Do they have any hobbies or preferred past-times?

Hmmm, that's hard.... He's rather go with the flow so he can be happy chilling and doing whatever, like watching the clouds or the stars.... But I could see him having a journal/scrapbook or something!! I'm sure he gets into a lot of stuff in the AU where he sets out on his own but i'd have to ponder it more.... Kind of related, but he would help re-braid Nimh's hair often and got quite good at it, on top of it being quite relaxing to him.... Hairstylist....

#clyde.txt #dragon's dogma 2 #dd2 #dd2 spoilers #sorry some of these answers are so brief and like meta and then some are so SO long and lore related....#nimh #lir

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preciouslandmermaid · 1 year

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cold secrets, warm light (simon “ghost” riley x f!reader) - part 2/3

Note: This got longer than expected, so now it’s gonna be 3 chapters instead of 2. LMAO. This takes place in the same universe as cold hands, warm heart and is seen as a continuation of that fic.

Rating/Warning: Canon typical violence, blood/injury/and minor gore. Thigh grinding and making out. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) haha ! nice! (also those gloves make me feral)

** All the names of politicians are fake/do not relate to any living or deceased person. I also created 2 entire locations because I don’t want to use the real world lmao. (Al-Qunbar & Noreth)

No use of Y/N. Reader is described as muscular/toned with scars from active combat/torture, and no other descriptors are used.

(Read on Ao3) ||| 🔪🔪🔪

~~~~~~~~~

In the days that follow, you settle into a routine with Ghost and Soap at the safe house. Samira looked after Soap. She attended to his medical needs and physical therapy. He’s a decent patient until his frustration boils over and then he’s huffing like an old goat and crossing his arms. Agathi’s boys worked the farmland. They shovel manure, or prune plants, or tend to the harvest. The security of the safe house is organized into scheduled shifts. The perimeter of the property, the barn, and the house itself are your main concerns.

However, Ghost took over the sniper position at the barn. Instead of following the six-hour schedule, he stayed up there for twelve to fourteen hours. When he returns to the house, he talks to Soap, rests, then returns to the barn without speaking to anyone else. You don’t take it personally. Ghost is a diligent operative. He never wavers. He never falters. You are safer, Lukas is safer, with him here.

Your nails are encrusted with dark, rich earth from digging up carrots with James and Lukas. Lukas’ favorite task is to unearth food you’ve grown. He smiles brightly, holding aloft potatoes or carrots or stalks of green onions, and you cannot help but smile in return. He is a sweet and tender boy. And its awe inspiring someone so sweet and gentle could come from you. A trained killer. A girl made of ice. A woman without identity, without roots.

You skim your dirty hands across the stalks of tall reeds while walking down the dirt, pebble-strewn road. A lone bird calls out to signal that night is upon them and the predators will awaken soon. Your smile tugs errantly at the corners of your mouth.

The sky is bruising purple and dusky blue. The clouds on the horizon promised rain. You can smell in the air – fresh, biting, and green. You unscrew the cap of your flask and swallow a warm, robust mouthful of black tea. The dilapidated barn leans against a backdrop of dying sunlight like a wounded animal. Sven emerges from the grass with a sheepish smile. His blue eyes dart briefly to the barn loft.

He says, “time for shift change already?”

“I’m early.” You ruffle his stringy, blonde hair. “Go on. Your brother is waiting.”

Sven flushes bright red. “Thanks.”

You watch him jog down the road with a flashlight in his hand. You check under the tire well of the abandoned truck and find the hidden pistol. You check the safety and clip. You tuck it away again. Price, the thoughtful bastard, managed to arrange a covert supply drop. Ghost collected it earlier in the week. It contained ammunition, infrared lights, night vision scopes, and supplies for Soap and Ghost.

Price can get into serious trouble by his superiors if anyone finds out about it.

You aren’t sure why he keeps sticking his neck out to help you, but you’re grateful. You think of Lukas. You wonder if he suspects anything. Samira often says fondly, ‘it’s as if God took the blueprints of you and made him.’ You don’t see it. And whenever you tell Samira this, she laughs, and her scarred skin stretches with joy.

The wooden ladder creaks when you ascend it. Ghost is perched with his sniper and completely unmoving. Your nostrils itch as the scent of old, dusty hay fills them. You sniffle and wipe your nose with your knuckles.

“All clear,” drawls Ghost.

“Yes, I know. I was just outside.”

Ghost scoffs. You settle crossed legged next to him. You glance at his stark black-and-white profile. His sandy eyelashes flutter against his black-painted skin. Your body hums with acute unspoken desire. You trace the shapes of his tattoos on his forearm. You would give anything to touch him and feel the hot expanse of his skin across your palms. You’ve lain awake in your cold bed, tossing, and turning and coiled with taut desire, and wondered if he’d shun you if you came to find him. But you always manage to talk yourself out of it.

There’s no benefit in complicating matters further. Noreth is at war. You and Lukas can’t leave. Soap and Ghost can’t leave. The best course of action is to lay low and keep safe until extraction. You swallow another gulp of tea and watch the cloudy, star dotted horizon and swaying tall grass.

“What’re you drinking?”

“Tea.” You wipe your mouth with your fingers.

“Nothing stronger?” He grouses.

“We’ve got vodka back at the house.”

He gives a small shake of his head. “Foul.”

You extend your arm toward him, the flask pinched between your fingers, and Ghost glances sidelong at you. Seconds pass. You’re about to pull it away. But then Ghost reaches and accepts the flask without touching you. You force yourself to look away rather than look at him. You imagine the shape of his lips closing over the mouth of the flask. You imagine his muscled throat shifting when he swallows. You imagine him wiping away a teardrop of tea from the corner of his mouth with his gloved thumb. You wait until you hear the sound of the cap screwing back on before looking at him again.

His mask is pushed up to right below his nose. His jaw is shadowed with dark blonde stubble. You recall how it scratched against your bare skin and left faint, irritated red lines. You avert your eyes.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” He mumbles.

You shrug, “things have changed.”

“Have they?” He says and the words are deep and rumbling. You take the flask from him and drink to delay answering his question. Things have changed. You are no longer an intelligence agent. You deserted. You have a child. You have good people relying on you. You have a reason beyond survival to carve a place for yourself in this new world.

“A bit.” You respond vaguely. The silence stretches, weighted and poignant, and you crack your knuckles one finger at a time. It never used to be awkward with Simon. Or has nostalgia completely skewed your perception? Or is it your guilt? Your fingertips touch when you pass the flask again. An electric jolt fires across your skin. You meet his heavily lidded, shadowed eyes. The unsaid words and confessions linger on your tongue. The distance between you is miniscule. It’s mere inches, but it feels like an endless chasm. You risk the danger and shift closer.

His skeletal gloved fingers graze along the feverish skin on your inner wrist.

“We shouldn’t complicate things.” You blurt. Your secret presses on every of your chamber of your heart. His presses his lips together and cocks his head to the side.

“We’re well past that, Lux.”

“There are things you don’t know about me, Ghost.”

The rough texture of his gloves glides up to your shoulder, lightly touching your neck, and you feel his index finger slide under the golden chain of your necklace. Your pulse throbs in your carotid artery. The moth charm twirls, pretty and light, between Simon’s large fingers.

“I’m not saying this to be coy or mysterious, Riley.” When you use his name, his eyes dart from your throat to your face, and you feel every ounce of his attention on you. You feel like a butterfly pinned to a display frame.

A hot and prickly sensation burns in your throat, “I have secrets you’d hate me for keeping.” You whisper.

You swallow with some difficulty. His tongue sweeps across his lower, chapped lip before he pulls his lower lip between his teeth briefly. Your heart stutters. You force your eyes from his mouth.

“I doubt that very much.” His voice is rumbling, and quiet, and its reverberation echoes into your spine. Your skin burns. Your breath, ragged and warm ,drags itself through your lungs and out your parted lips. You tilt forward and press your forehead against the cool, hard plastic of his mask. Your eyes shutter closed.

Simon says your name longingly. His breath tickles your chin. Your heart pangs to tell him the truth about Lukas, about Al-Qunbar, about Price and his help. Yet, pragmatism pinches your tongue in a vice grip. Lukas’ safety and well-being is everything to you. The less people who know the truth the better.

His lips ghost across yours. His stubble is prickly and rough. Without further prompting or encouragement, you kiss him and slide your tongue between his lips. You tremble and your breath huffs desperately through your nostrils. You hold his jaw. You need him close. You want to wrap your bodies together and remain glued. An overwhelming sensation of bliss floods through your veins. Simon’s tongue moves languidly and tastes of robust black tea. He squeezes the back of your neck, holding you tight and refusing to let you pull away. A heady sense of warmth explodes inside your chest and launches your heart into a tailspin.

You throw your leg over his big thigh, straddling it, and Simon makes a low, pleased sound at the back of his throat. His other hand clutches your hip—tight, possessive, his thumb digs into your flesh. He pitches your hips forward, then pushes back, and you quickly get the idea. You clothed cunt grinds against his muscled thigh. You encircle your arms around his neck, pressed chest-to-chest, and feel Simon’s every rough inhale and exhale. Your original plan to remain distant and uncomplicated has crashed and burned into ash and charcoal.

His tongue flicks obscenely and wetly into your open, panting mouth. “Can you come like this?” He asks, “or do you want my hand, hm? My fingers?” The thought of Simon’s hand shoved between your legs is enough to make your body tighten with anticipation and desire. You wonder if he’ll keep the gloves on.

“We have to keep watch.” You whimper.

He chuckles like deep, dark wine. “I can multitask.”

The temptation threatens to drag you underwater. You are swept into the current of Simon’s influence and your own intoxicating desire. His warm, rough burr. His large and deliberate hands. His strong, muscled arms and legs. His chiseled abdominal muscles quiver as you push your hands up his shirt and touch his hot, damp skin.

“God,” He drags the word out and tilts his head back to look up at you, “you’re gonna kill me, Lux.”

You smile. You are lost in the deep, coffee color of his eyes shadowed by ashen blonde lashes and smudged with black camo paint. They are the same shade as Lukas’. An arrow of guilt spears your heart. What are you doing? Noreth is at war. You’re on watch. You’ll never forgive yourself if Lukas got hurt because you let your lust overwhelm your logic. You clear your throat.

You say, “we – we should wait until we’re inside.” You climb off his leg and adjust your rumpled shirt. “Okay?”

Ghost licks his lips and watches you with dark, hungry eyes. “I’m a sniper. A few hours is nothing.”

“Great.” You reply, your voice tight, “I’m going to walk the perimeter.”

~~~~~~~~

The walk back to the heaven is tense. It is filled with piping hot anticipation and coated in white foam that tastes like a hopeful dream, a beggar’s wish. Two dimly lit windows peer like eyes onto the dead lawn and black skeletal shape of Kaja’s motorbike.

Simon’s palm glides along your lower back and blistering heat floods your stomach. Your body clenches and your clit throbs with pressure and desire. You’ve thought of nearly a dozen different positions and fantasies during your walk. This is unlike your time with the task force. You don’t need to avoid detection. Neither Samira nor Agathi will judge you. Although, for the sake of those sleeping, you resolve to do your best to stay quiet.

The front door opens to the sound of Lukas crying. Agathi is holding him, bouncing softly, and her tired face looks relieved when you cross the threshold.

“Nightmare.” She explains. Lukas reaches his tiny hands toward you.

“I’ve got him.” You bundle Lukas into your arms and kiss his flushed, sticky-with-tears cheek. You glance apologetically toward Ghost. Perhaps this is for the best. Maybe you shouldn’t sleep together. Maybe this was some unseen force ensuring that you and Ghost remain uncomplicated. Maybe it’s saving you from breaking your heart again. Once Soap is clear, Ghost will leave. You know it. You believe it.

You sway Lukas in your arms and mutter softly.

~~~~~~~~~

Ghost stands frozen in the doorway. The boy has his eyes. And the realization is like a leech. He cannot shake it. He cannot bear to be in the same room as you and the crying child. The child with his eyes. He stalks down the hall and ducks into the small room arranged for him and Soap.

Soap is asleep. He’s glad for it. He doesn’t want questions. His breath his ragged and edged like shrapnel in his lungs. His skin is flushed and stretched uncomfortably over his bones. You held Lukas sweetly. You kissed his face. You showed him more affection than James or Sven. How did he not see it earlier?

Lukas looks nothing like Sven or James or Agathi. He looks like you. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t. You must’ve had a child with someone during your time in Al-Qunbar. He scowls. The maths didn’t add up there either. He guessed Lukas’ age is close to 3. Lukas would be younger if you gave birth to him in Al-Qunbar. Then when? With whom?

He swallows thickly and recalls your short time together. Lukas can’t be his. Can’t be. Can’t. He’s not fit to be a father. He’s a dangerous man. A killer. And a damn good one at that. His palms are sweaty and clammy. He peels off his skeletal gloves and tucks them into the back pocket of his pants. He chews his tongue with his back molars.

If Lukas is yours then he doubts the agency knows. A child is a target. A vulnerability. He starts cleaning one of his guns to keep his hands busy. The gun oil is slick and warm against his fingers. He clears his dry, uncomfortable throat. He thinks about your weighted words in the barn. You mentioned you had a secret. You said it was something he’d hate you for.

His slick, oiled hands move purposefully over the metal. His gaze flicks upward to Soap. He watches his chest breathing evenly beneath the dark sheets. They will stay here for a few weeks and then they’d leave. He can endure it.

You were never meant to have a reunion. And he is a fool for wishing for anything other than what he got. Regardless of who Lukas belongs to—he’s no one’s father. He’s not destined for a civilian life. He’s comfortable in the danger. He’s comfortable wearing the mask. He likes it too much to walk away.

He can’t go and live on a farm and change nappies. That’s not who he is. And he won’t bring danger to your doorstep. But he doesn’t want to say goodbye again. He doesn’t want you to disappear. Ghost sighs heavily and sets the pistol on his bouncing knee.

He needs to talk to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It took an hour to get Lukas back to sleep. You settle into one of the wooden chairs on your small, porch balcony outside your bedroom and watch the darkness and swaying grass. You roll the night vision scope between your palms and feel the roughed, grip texture. You peer through it ever-so-often toward the barn. You consider joining Kaja, but you don’t want to leave Lukas in case he has another nightmare.

A floorboard creaks. The smell of gun oil permeates the air. Ghost sits in the chair beside you.

He asks, “what’s the story between the kids here? They got family on the outside?”

You bite your lip. “Not really.”

“What about their dad?”

“Agathi’s husband is dead.” You explain.

Ghost rests his elbows on his knees, “and the small one?”

You chose your next words carefully. “He’s alive. I tell him his dad is a soldier working hard to keep everyone safe.”

Ghost stares at you, unblinking, and his gaze is like holding a lit cigar to your skin.

“That the truth?” says Ghost gruffly.

The crickets chirp, a chorus, a symphony, lonely and desperate for connection.

“The truth would hurt everyone, ” You shrug.

“It would hurt him.” You look meaningfully over your shoulder toward Lukas’ bedroom door adjacent to your room.

Simon’s tone is commanding and harsh as nails, “tell me the truth.”

You squeeze your eyes closed. A swirl of black and purple spots spin on the canvas of your eyelids. You had hoped to avoid this conversation. But Simon has connected the dots and you played your hand too heavily when you told him you carried a guilty secret.

“Do you remember Al-Qunbar?” You ask.

He hums, “Mhm.”

It was the last place you and Ghost met. A city of dust and smoke, a marble fountain that gurgled with blood.

“I was Qadir’s mistress,” you begin, referring to the politician that governed Al-Qunbar, “that was my cover. It was not uncommon in their culture for people of power, regardless of gender, to have multiple partners or spouses. And they considered multiple children as a sign of virility and good fortune.”

You inhale slowly. This is the part of the story that is like traversing a minefield. You’ve imagined telling him, but never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d get the chance.

“Qadir had many children. But his regime was unstable. I begged him to send the children away. I groveled.” Your voice quivers and tears sting your eyes like wasps. You bite down on your lower lip and compose yourself.

“Qadir refused. He said we’d all go together in the end. He gave poison disguised as medicine to his wives, his mistresses, his personal guards…his children…his children…”

You knew those children. You cared for them. You scrub a hand over your face. Finding the courage to topple dictators or stare at the barrel of a loaded gun is easy. But looking at Simon is impossible. You focus on a spot in the dark, starry horizon. The high grass that surrounds your property sways like whispering dancers.

“I knew I couldn't’ save them all, so I chose Lukas.”

“Samira helped. She was Qadir’s midwife and served in his military as a doctor. The day Qadir was assassinated, I got Lukas out, but I couldn’t leave Al-Qunbar. Not yet. The extremists, the loyalists, the American agents. None of them could know he was alive. I need to make it seem like everyone in Qadir’s family perished in the uprising.”

The wooden chair creaks like an old ship underneath Simon’s weight.

“You were the one who torched his compound.” He says. It’s not a question. You wonder if he read the file. You wonder if anyone told him your undercover name and saw you were listed under ‘killed in action’. You wonder if Price mentioned his part in helping you escape from under the thumb of imperialism.

You nod. You burned Qadir’s house, and all the bodies within, and fled. You earned yourself a deep wound from a sniper at the town square before you reunited with Ghost’s team.

Simon scoffs, “I think you’re a bit of an arsonist, Lux.”

You recognize his attempt at humor, but you can’t summon the energy to smile. You’ve told him the background, you’ve set the stage, but you haven’t brought the main actors into the play. You haven’t revealed the truth.

Your voice scratches as it travels up your throat. “I told Qadir the baby was his, but the timing was off.”

“He’s yours, Simon.” You finish weakly and your heart capsizes inside your chest, “he’s ours.”

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t look away. The mask hides everything from you and his eyes are guarded and cold. He will hate you. You are sure of it. He will hate you for lying, for not contacting him, for keeping Lukas.

You lift the night vision scope to your face to hide your hurt expression.

~~~~~~~~~

“Shit!” You jolt upright, blood pounds in your ears, and your eyes swivel across the black landscape. You peer through the night vision binoculars to assure you saw Kaja’s signal accurately. You’re not mistaken. She flashed her infrared twice. Trouble.

“What is it?” Ghost is beside you, alert.

“Kaja is in trouble.”

He huffs. You think there’s a question poised in his eyes, but then a burst of gunfire illuminates the darkness like white fireworks. You drop like a stone into fight-or-flight. You run into the adjoining bedroom and scoop Lukas into your arms, waking him, and he cries – startled – in your arms. There is nothing inside your head beyond the checklist of tasks you must complete for your sons’ safety.

“It’s alright, lovey. It’s just a storm.” You assure him.

You barrel down the hallway. James and Sven step into the hallway with Agathi clutching their shoulders. You swerve pass them, taking the steps hurriedly, your heartbeat thundering in your ears and drowning out the sounds of Lukas’ tears and the encroaching gunfire. You don’t bother to look behind you or check for Ghost. He doesn’t know the household protocol, but he can handle himself in a fight. You aren’t worried about him.

“If you get out of that wheelchair, I’ll kill you myself.” Samira snaps. She shoves a loaded shotgun into Soap’s hand. “Protect the little ones.”

You duck into the basement. The door is heavily fortified, and along with supplies, the back left corner equipped with an escape tunnel.

“Alright, there, there, sweet boy.” You kiss the side of Lukas’ head, “it’s going to be alright.” You bounce in him in your arms, kissing and repeating platitudes, promising him that everything will be OK. You never expected motherhood to come equipped with so many desperate lies.

Agathi opens her arms for him.

Lukas’ little fingers cling to your neck, unintentionally scratching, and he is grabbing your shirt, red-faced and screaming. You pry him off. Your heart breaks. Your mouth is dry. You swallow your tears as Agathi cradles your son to her chest and rocks him. Her steely blue eyes meet yours—fierce, red-rimmed, and determined. You share a meaningful, wordless look. You’ve always known the role you would play if shit hit the fan. Agathi and Samira are the protectors.

And you?

You’re the fucking executioner.

“Be safe.” James says, squeezing your hand once before you hurry upstairs. The second your foot hits the landing, Samira shuts the door and extinguishes her lamp. In near-darkness, Sven tosses a body armor vest toward you. You clip it hastily, grabbing equipment from the case, and affixing it to your body. You grab a few extra throwing knives and tuck them into the holster on your chest.

Ghosts’ footfalls are quick and deceptively quiet as he comes downstairs, “counted five approaching.”

“There’s likely more with Kaja.” Samira says knowingly, pinning her dark hair away from her face and scowling.

“What’s the plan?” asks Soap.

“Defend the house.” You nod toward the basement door, “this door especially. If there’s any risk of breaching, hit the switch here, and they know to get the fuck out.”

You walk confidently backwards and toward the door, “if I don’t come back—assume I’m dead and don’t come looking for me.”

You spin on your heel and slip through the partially ajar door. You knew the conflict would eventually reach your doorstep, but you wish it hadn’t happened when you had so much to lose inside. Their flashlights cut through reeds of tall grass and flicker like ghosts across the lawn. They’re shouting at each other in Noreth’s native language. You’re not fluent, but you get an idea of the instruction, and you weave through the grass. Your fingers curl around the knife’s grip.

A low hum of insects buzz around your sweaty face and tall grass whispers as you move through it. You sharpen your focus. The moon illuminates the silent battlefield in a ghastly, blue-white subdued glow. You taste salt on your lips. You cling onto the memory of Simon’s warm, deep eyes. If you died here, or fucked it up, he’d never let you hear the end of it.

You catch your breath in your lungs. You attack, swift and deadly, your knife plunging wetly into your target’s chest. You vanish into the grass, crouched low, and using the light breeze to your advantage. You move with the wind, in bleached moonlight, and you strike down his partner before the others notice. The assailants approaching the front yard were easy. They spread themselves thin, they were too jumpy, and they held their rifles awkwardly. You surmised based on their gait and posture that they were newer—likely fresh recruits.

The three approaching the back entrance wouldn’t be so simple. They move cohesively with experience. You weigh your odds. You can kill one, but the other two will engage with you. If this had been any other mission, you would divert their attention slowly, pick them off using traps and tricks. However, the sands of time are pouring through your fingers, and you’ve got people inside to protect. A man you want to talk to, a child you want to raise, a friend you need to see again.

You test the weight of the throwing knife in your palm. It’s risky. But what choice do you have? These fuckers likely have reinforcements at the barn. Kaja is in danger. You grit your jaw and find the best position among swishing grass and damp, spongy earth.

You wait for the flashlight to illuminate his partner. Your knife spins in the dark, twirling, unseen and the target exclaims a short – “Ah!” as the blade sticks into the meat of his shoulder.

It’s off-mark. You leap to the second target, spry and agile. You are a weapon of death, a herald of doom. Your knife cuts across his throat in brutal efficiency and soaks your wrist in hot blood. You pivot, tucking your arm, and use the target’s body as a meat shield as they fire several rounds at you. You count the bullets.

He spasms and jerks against you as bullets whiz by and you wait for the reload. They might be experienced, but they’re spooked enough to fire all their ammunition simultaneously. You drop the body the second you hear the resounding click of an empty chamber. You draw your silenced pistol. Your last resort. Your breath catches in your lungs.

There’s only one man in front of you. You fire your shot. It goes through your target’s throat. He gurgles wetly, painfully, before falling backward. You scan the area for the threat, the missing attacker, but suddenly something hits you in the back of the skull.

Sharp and biting pain blossoms and stars dance in front of your vision. Their forearm wraps around your throat, pinning you to their chest, the muzzle of their sidearm pistol against your temple. Your time off the field has made you sloppy. Overconfident. Careless. You mentally berate yourself and plant your feet to try and throw him off before he can pull the trigger.

A bullet rings through the darkness. A torrent of hot blood and chunks of bone splatters wetly onto your cheek and side of your head. Your target collapses into you and you roughly shoulder him away. Half of his skull is missing and his brains and blood gushes over the marshland.

You look toward the house. You can’t see Ghost’s sniper scope in the darkness, but you feel it. You feel him watching. You holster your gun. You walk away from the house and toward the barn. To Kaja. To finish your hunt.

~~~~~~~~~

Ghost watches the flashlights disappear from your window. He has every intention of providing cover fire with his sniper—if you need it. He is watching you through the scope, remembering Spain, and his cold heart pangs weakly. He isn’t sure how he feels about you. He wants to be angry for keeping secrets. But, that’s bollocks, isn’t it? You both come from special ops backgrounds, from troves of classified files, and hell—his identity has been a secret for years. You don’t even know what he looks like. The kid’s got my eyes. There’s some small part of him that carries on throughout the world and you’re the only two people who know about it.

He doesn’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to being angry. You made the right call. You kept the kid—Lukas—safe. His kid. Ghost’s throat threatens to tighten. He shoves it down. The feeling smolders inside his chest. It’s not like it matters. You’ll go your separate ways once Soap is cleared to evac. Assuming everyone lives after this evening, he thinks wryly. He adjusts his hold on his sniper and breathes deeply.

A burst of gunfire crackles in the distance. He swings his scope to the swaying reeds. One of the targets have veered off into the darkness while the other fills his dead friend with bullets. He catches brief flashes of your body, hunched, before you duck from beneath cover and stand—your form exquisite and lethal. A muted flash appears before the muzzle of your gun.

The second target appears from the darkness and grapples you. Ghost holds his breath. His finger hovers over the trigger. The pistol touches your skin. He imagines it firing. He imagines your body going inert and dropping like a sack of rocks into the strangers’ arms. His jaw clenches. He has seconds to react. The targets’ face hovers next to yours.

He fires. An explosion of blood and brain and bone spews around your head. You knock the body contemptuously away and somehow manage to meet his eyes through the rifle scope. Ghost’s heart thumps painful and hard into his ribs. You’re half-covered in someone else’s blood like the final girl in a slasher horror film. He thinks of kissing you. You turn and vanish into the darkness. He releases the breath he was holding.

Samira swings into the room, hand clutching the doorframe, “Ghost.” She says, “I need you to go to the barn.” Her tone brokers no argument. Despite that, however, he still says…

“Why?”

“Kaja’s not back yet which means she didn’t escape.”

“How’d you know?”

Samira huffs, “we have a system of triggers and alarms and codes. She hasn’t signaled the all-clear.”

“Could mean she’s dead.”

Her gaze darkens, “they do not often kill women in Noreth. They make them suffer first. Go. An order, Ghost. It’s an order.”

He dislikes taking orders from her, but Samira has your trust, and that means something. And although you claim you don’t have a hierarchy at the haven, it’s clear they look to you for leadership, and Samira is your second.

His head is still fucked from everything. But he’s thankful for the clarity of battle—of conflict and fighting—it gives him something to focus on. He follows the tracks you made through the grass. The air smells like car exhaust fumes, and gun smoke, and dark, damp earth.

“Leave her alone!” Your voice jabs into his gut like a well-placed and serrated knife. Ghost moves silently through the brush. His blood is hot and pounding in his neck.

The glaring headlamps of their truck illuminates your bruised face. Your teeth glisten wet and red. There is more blood covering you, but he can’t tell what’s yours and what isn’t. Someone has you pinned to the ground, your hands behind your back, and your legs are pinned by a second body. The man in front of you drops to a crouch and speaks lowly. Ghost doesn’t hear what he says. Your gaze hardens and your lips press into a tight line.

Your eyes move past the man speaking to you. Your gaze strikes his through the blades of swaying grass and encroaching, tall weeds. Your eyes are red-rimmed and filled with vengeful tears like the oil-painting of Lucifer.

“Bring them both in!” The man pinches your jaw roughly, his tone scathing, “You will sing like a songbird for me, little viper.”

Your jaw shifts. You spit a bloody glob of salvia into his face.

“Bitch!” He yells. He back-hands you, and you head lolls sideways into the dirt, wheezing, a fresh cut blooms on your lower lip. Rage burns through him, hot and corrosive, across every limb, every nerve, until he’s certain the dry vegetation around him is going to burst into flames. He’s never wanted to tear somebody limb-from-limb before. Not ‘till this moment.

He’s shaking. He realizes it almost distantly, like he’s not inside his body, like he’s viewing everything from a sniper’s scope but he’s without his calculated, cold ease. A voice inside his head informs him of the amount of bullets he has, the target locations, and the cover the barn could provide.

Kaja’s lilting voice appears from somewhere near the back of the truck—her words are thick with phlegm and barely distinguishable—but Ghost can tell she’s begging. He can hear it in her tone, how she sobs around the broken syllables. It’s not you who will break. It’s Kaja. Young, inexperienced Kaja. Another voice inside his head tells him he needs to silence her before she blows his cover or more importantly, your cover and the safety of Lukas. There’s only one target with Kaja and his back is to the shadows. Big mistake.

He shifts into the dark, lush undergrowth. He circles around the barn. You’re still goading the leader. He suspects you’re doing it to keep the focus away from Kaja, to take her pain, because you know she’s fragile and you’re trained to take it. He hears your brusque, insulting tone and it is nearly always followed with the sharp, biting sound of his skin striking yours. His heartrate skyrockets.

He’s shaking again. He bites his lower lip, tasting copper and salt, and it forcefully yanks him back to reality. He creeps through the darkness. He strikes. His large palm covers the target’s mouth, dragging him backward into the shadows, he snaps his neck quickly and efficiently. He drags the body into the grass and approaches the truck bed where Kaja is tied with a black canvas bag over her head.

“Please!” She’s trembling. “We’re just a little farm! We’re not rebels!”

Ghost yanks the bag over her head. She meets his gaze with glossy, frightened eyes. He motions one finger to his mouth. He doesn’t have time to cut the ropes that dig into her bony, bird-like wrists. He grabs her and pulls her from the truck. The weight is shifted and the springs beneath the back tires groan and squeak.

His blood curdles with the abrupt sound of your scream when his boots hit the grass. Every instinct in him wants to—to drop Kaja and fire every bullet into the men that circle you like hungry lions. He resists. If you’re screaming, then it’s part of the act. You wouldn’t give these slimy assholes the satisfaction. He believes that.

He drags Kaja into the darkness.

“We need to go back!” She whispers harshly when they’re several minutes away from the barn, “untie me. We need to save her.”

Ghost says nothing.

<< Part Three (Final) >>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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