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#when the snow falls
stil-lindigo · 10 months
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scorched earth.
a comic about a princess who died in a fire.
(this is a sequel to bite of winter, a comic about Snow and what became of her after her death.)
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all my other comics
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hejee · 7 months
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something about love being the death of duty
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letraspal · 8 months
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“I fall asleep better, listening to Baz breathe”
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akiraal · 4 months
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my boy has a profound sadness that no smile can erase
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hyunpic · 6 months
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hyunjin ♡ wkorea: love your w
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starlightshadowsworld · 2 months
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When Snow Falls
Chuuya notices somethings off with Tachihara and learns the government's human experiments didn't end with him.
Spoilers for Stormbringer.
TW for child abuse, human experimentation and there's a mention of suicide (Tachihara brings up his brother.)
@tachiharastanacc An attempt was made 😅
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Chuuya knew this was none of his business, but when had that ever stopped him. The mission with the Black Lizards earlier had gone as smooth as ever. But there was something amiss.
The Black Lizards had been fighting their way out. But it didn't escape Chuuya they had been protecting Tachihara. Rashomon seemed to hover near the other boy when the bullets started firing.
Gin was at Tachihara's otherside and Hirotsu would look back at him often, with concern.
Chuuya had looked through Tachihara's files, there was no mention of prior injuries or incident reports. And the kid wasn't weak, far from it considering he made it to the Black Lizards.
And yet, Chuuya recalled Tachihara's performance on the mission. He'd executed his attacks well, but he moved slower than usual. 
Chuuya hadn't gotten a good look at him, but Tachihara had been pale. And when he thought no one was looking he'd wince.
And yeah maybe he was just sick and pushing through it to complete his mission.
But Chuuya's instincts screamed at him that was something wrong. Something beyond some simple sickness. 
His instincts had yet to fail him. With that in mind, and dread in his stomach Chuuya took off into the night. 
Finding Tachihara wasn't hard. It didn't take long for Chuuya to spot him sitting at the docks. Tachihara didn't notice Chuuya approach until he was right behind him.
Not a good sign for someone who's team mate was Gin. Someone who Tachihara frequently caught sneaking up on him.
Tachihara blinked, looking up at his superior. His legs were dangling off the edge and his arms wrapped around himself like he was cold.
Chuuya froze at the sight of him. He hadn't gotten a good look at him during the mission. But up close he could see just how bad the kid looked.
In the dim light of the docks, Tachihara looked like a corpse.
"Shit..." Said Chuuya, before he could stop himself. Tachihara's hands were at his sides, gripping the edge of the docks. They were shaking and it was clear he'd lost weight.
He smiled at Chuuya, and it made Chuuya sick to know that if he wasn't aware something was clearly wrong, he might've bought it. Just how long had Tachihara been putting on this carefree facade? 
"Nakahara? Hey, fancy seeing you out here." Said Tachihara, he was suprised to see the executive. The man would usually be having tea with Kouyou at this hour.
What was he doing out here?
"Tachihara" said Chuuya, making it very clear he wasn't going go entertain this sharade at all.
Tachihara's smile wavered, before it fell entirely. He was almost glad, because it meant he didn't have to pretend anymore.
He didn't need to keep lying to the people he loved. 
Tachihara smiled, it was genuine unlike the last one. It was wistful and sad as he looked to the moonlit sky. "I'm dying" It was said so quietly that Chuuya thought he'd misheard him. 
"What?! What do you mean?! Are you hurt?!" Asked Chuuya, he swore he'd not seen an incident report earlier. Had he been wrong? Why was Tachihara out here and not in the infirmary?! 
Tachihara shook his head, relaxed like he hadn't just dropped a bombshell. "Nah. There ain't a scratch in me. My body's just, shutting down." He debates whether to explain or not. "Might wanna sit, it's a long one."
Chuuya raises an eyebrow, but moves to sit beside him and gestures for him to go on. 
"When I was a kid I looked up to my big brother. He was the perfect model son and everyone wanted me to grow up to be just like him. I hated it, more than anything."
Tachihara snorted. The irony that he had tried everything to avoid being like Shunzen. Only to follow in his footsteps like an imperfect copy. 
"He was a soilder who got sent out the Great War. He didn't die in battle, not the physical kind that is... He killed himself."
Tachihara could still remember that morning. His dad had been hysterics and his mum was yelling at the medic on the phone for lying to her.
He'd just been sat in the middle of it all, forgotten and confused. 
Chuuya wordlessly took off his hat bowing his head in respect. Tachihara was suprised by the sentiment. And touched by it all the same. Chuuya didn't apologise to him, nor offer him empty words.
Not like everyone else had done.
Tachihara had to look away lest he started tearing up. "With him home, the pressure only grew. But instead now it was that it should've been me."
And maybe this was Tachihara's karma for being the brother who survived.
"I said to hell with that. I rebelled, I broke the rules, got into fights and my grades went down the drain. I got caught up in a bank robbery, there was an explosion... I don't really remember it, only that I should've died."
Tachihara took a deep breath that rattled his lungs. "My brother, he had an ability. He could turn metal into shapes from stories and poetry. I was jealous he had one, and that night I learned I had one too." 
Tachihara raised his hand and the metal chain on Chuuya's hat swung back and forth at his command.
He winces, putting his hand down, cancelling his ability. "He could make shapes but I can bend metal to my will. In the same way you bend gravity to yours."
Chuuya can only look at him in shock. To think Tachihara had an ability this whole time and no one had known.
The small show seemed to have sucked the energy out of him. But Chuuya could sense just how strong Tachihara truly was. "Why hide it?"  
Tachihara looks down at his now shaking hand, ashamed. "I'll get to it, I promise." Chuuya frowns, but let's him continue. 
"So I managed to save myself, but barely. I was crushed under rubble but I was saved by the police. When I woke up I thought I was in a hospital. But it only looked like one, it was a secret government lab."
Chuuya's blood ran cold. He swore his heart stopped.
Tachihara, didn't notice and kept talking. "The scientists saved me, but their was a price." Tachihara took another deep breath, it was painful to recount.
"They put me back together, but there was something different. My body wasn't as it was before."
Chuuya knows he should say something, anything. But he can't, his mind is blank. All he can do is sit and stare at Tachihara, at this kid with horror.
Finally, after only a moment but felt forever Chuuya managed to bring himself to ask. "Kid... What did they do to you?"  
Tachihara smiled sadly, closing his eyes. "You know, to this day I still don't know." He admitted, and if that didn't break Chuuya's heart, what would?
He knew, he knew what it was like to feel like your body wasn't yours. To feel like a microchip implanted into a robot, it was a pain he wouldn't wish on anyone. 
"What was their goal. Cause I'm guessing they didn't save you out of the goodness of their heart."
There was always a goal, always a project and a purpose that these sick bastards had in mind. 
For Chuuya it was Arahabaki, for Verlaine it was Guivre. He didn't think it was the same for Tachihara, to create an ability singularity.
The kid's ability was strong but not that strong. 
"Whatever they did it was experimental. It didn't save me completely, I'd need monthly "examinations" a touch up if you will, to keep me alive. They'd only do it though if I accepted the position to become the fifth Hunting Dog."
The Hunting Dogs were a group of elite gifted, hell elite didn't even begin to describe to them.
They were the top squad of the military police. It was said one of their members were equal to the strength of an army of gifted.
Chuuya didn't put much stock in rumours like that, but they don't come from nothing. "You accepted because without them you'd die."
Tachihara finally looks at Chuuya, his eyes shining with greif and shame.  
"Yeah, I did. I was trained, if you could call it that. I was cut up and put back together, over and over. I became what they wanted, and agreed to join the Port Mafia as a spy."
He doesn't let himself move, doesn't let himself look away. The shame weighs on his heart but looking away now would be the cowards way out.
But maybe he was already the coward, given Tachihara had intended on letting this all die with him.
"Tachihara, why are you dying?" Asked Chuuya, his voice soft and kind. The exact opposite of what Tachihara expected, he just admitted he was a traitor... Why was Chuuya being so nice?
"I... What?"
"You said they'd keep you alive so long as you did what they asked, right?" Summarises Chuuya, getting a nod from Tachihara. It takes all of his own training for Chuuya to stay calm. 
"So why aren't they doing that now?"
Realisation blooms in Tachihara's heart, because Chuuya figured it out. He laughs, he's not entirely sure why but he laughs. It rattles his entire body and it brings him to tears.
"I wasn't supposed to like you guys. It's the first rule of being a spy, don't get attached. But... Fuck I got attached, too attached. I gave a report, I missed some information that would've hurt the Port Mafia. It would've cost lives and I couldn't do it."
Tachihara wrapped his arms around himself. It took a lot of effort just to move them. It hurt so much, like his soul was on fire.
"They found out. Pushed my my maintenance day till end of the month. That's why I'm dying, Nakahara. Cause they know, and I know I can't wait that long."
Those bastards... Chuuya was going to kill them. Government or not, he was going to make them feel the pain of being crushed by gravity. Who forces a child to make such a choice?! 
Tachihara coughs, blood staining the floor before him. He smiles "they think I'll crawl back and beg for forgiveness but I won't."
There's a fire in his eyes, a stubborn determination even in his weakened state. "I cleaned their system of everything I ever told em. It's all gone."
This, this was strength. Chuuya could only marvel at the sacrifice Tachihara had made. And he wasn't the only one. 
There's a moment of silence before Chuuya holds up his phone. "Did you catch all of that, Boss?" He asks, Tachihara looks at him in shock.
He hadn't seen Chuuya subtly call Mori as they started talking.  
"Oh yes Chuuya, but Tachihara I have my own question. Why would you go so far for us? You know what the Port Mafia does to traitors." Asks Mori, his voice coming loud and clear from the speaker phone.
Intrigue colouring every word. 
And while he couldn't see him, Tachihara still bowed his head in respect.
"It probably sounds stupid but... Ever since that day, I was treated less than a person. I survived, but I wasn't human anymore. I was a government lab rat."
If Chuuya didn't want to kill them all, that certainty made his blood boil.
He's all too familiar with the craving, the dull ache in your heart as you wonder it that's enough to make you human.
To question whether you were the original. To think you were simply lines of code imbeded in flesh. It had damn near broken Chuuya, and he had people who loved him.
He had crumbled in the hands of those who believed, unwavering that he was human. Chuuya couldn't image thinking that for years, and suffering alone.
The fact this all was going on under his nose, pissed him off. Chuuya had swore to protect those he cared about, and he'd failed.  
Tachihara, unaware of Chuuya's turmoil, was turning over Mori's question in his mind. He chuckles but it's not funny. 
"I'm not even the first person to be the fifth Hunting Dog. I'm just the next one they picked up. That's, why I had to hide my ability, from everyone so no one would know I wasn't the first.
And I probably won't be the last. Being in the Port Mafia, it's the first time I've felt human. I couldn't let that be destroyed, no matter what."
"I've heard enough" Says Mori and Tachihara falls silent. "Chuuya, I trust you to deliver him to Infirmary 4B. It's the closest one to your location."
"I'm on it." Says Chuuya. Tachihara raises his head, confused. As if reading his mind, Mori chuckles.
"Oh Tachihara, the government might have decided you weren't worth saving but last I checked I was the Boss. And all you've done is prove you're truly one of ours. You're going to live, and that's an order."
Tachihara let those words run through him, he was shocked to say the least. "I... Okay" is what he ended up saying, because words were failing him. Mori just chuckled again, signing off. 
"Why did you...?" Trials off Tachihara, looking at Chuuya in shock. Chuuya smiles, it's sad as it is kind. "Cause I know what it's like, to be ripped apart and turned into a government lab rat."
He rests a hand on Tachihara's shoulder. "But kid, nothing they do takes away that you're human." 
Tachihara looks at him, akin to a starving man being handed food. He's spent so long questioning his own humanity.
And for someone to look him in the eye, and say 'you're human' with no hesitation....Tears well up in his eyes and he's powerless to stop them as they fall.
Chuuya hugs him close as Tachihara sobs. He let him down, he let him down and allowed this to go on. Not anymore, Chuuya was going to protect him. Just like he should have all along.
He helps him to his feet, practically carrying him to his bike. And from his bike to the infirmary.
"Could you..." Tachihara trials off, embarrassed and Chuuya chuckles ruffling his hair. It takes Tachihara aback at first, no ones done that since his brother died. 
It was nice. 
"I'll be right here when you wake up." Promised Chuuya, nodding his head to a nearby chair. Tachihara smiled "thanks, Nakahara, for everything."
Chuuya rolls his eyes with a fond smile. "Call me Chuuya, and kid you don't need to thank me for anything. The Port Mafia is my family, that includes you."
Tachihara chuckles "alright, but Akutugawa might be my cooler older brother." He narrowly avoids Chuuya's playful swat and laughs. Tachihara is eventually lead away as the Port Mafia's medical team do their jobs.
Unfortunately, Tachihara would still need the maintenance no matter what they'd do.
Tachihara's body had been fundamentally altered in a way that could not be reversed. But at least now, everyone knew and would make sure he could get through it all painlessly and humanely.
Less human experimentation and more regular surgery.
He wasn't a lab rat.
He wouldn't be ever again.
Not if Chuuya and the rest of the Port Mafia had any say in it.
Akutugawa had been livid, he'd berated Tachihara for being an idiot the moment he was cleared to go home. Tachihara just listened, suprised and was informed Akutugawa had stormed in and hadn't left his side at all.
Hirotsu had patted his shoulder with a kind smile. Higuchi had bought a basket of snacks and had chastised him for keeping it all a secret. Gin had been right there guarding the door.
Chuuya kept his word, having been fantasing what to do with the Government scientists involved. The rest of the Black Lizard chiming in their preferred torture method. 
And Tachihara? He had never felt more loved. 
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geekynightowl1997 · 6 months
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PSA:
Parker likes when it's cold outside because it gives her an excuse to steal Hardison's jacket and beg Eliot to make his hot cocoa.
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IF I SEE ANOTHER THINK PIECE ABOUT HOW EVERYONE FOCUSES ON THE ROMANCE OF THE HUNGER GAMES WHEN IT'S ABOUT SO MUCH MORE AND THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT THE BOOKS ARE ABOUT AND HOW EVERYONE'S MISSING SUZANNE COLLINS' MAIN POINT- IM GOING TO BLOW UP EVERYONE.
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ash-and-starlight · 4 months
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It’s important that the first revelation of Nissa Nissa is accompanied by some level of skepticism from Salladhor Saan and aversion on Davos’ part. It doesn’t sound right that Azor Ahai chose to sacrifice his wife for a magic sword. It shouldn’t sound right.
“A hundred days and a hundred nights he labored on the third blade, and as it glowed white-hot in the sacred fires, he summoned his wife. ‘Nissa Nissa,’ he said to her, for that was her name, ‘bare your breast, and know that I love you best of all that is in this world.’ She did this thing, why I cannot say, and Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel. Such is the tale of the forging of Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes.
“Now do you see my meaning? Be glad that it is just a burnt sword that His Grace pulled from that fire. Too much light can hurt the eyes, my friend, and fire burns.” Salladhor Saan finished the last grape and smacked his lips. “When do you think the king will bid us sail, good ser?”
[…] A true sword of fire, now, that would be a wonder to behold. Yet at such a cost … When he thought of Nissa Nissa, it was his own Marya he pictured, a good-natured plump woman with sagging breasts and a kindly smile, the best woman in the world. He tried to picture himself driving a sword through her, and shuddered. I am not made of the stuff of heroes, he decided. If that was the price of a magic sword, it was more than he cared to pay.
Not only does it not make sense that Nissa Nissa would agree to her husband’s request, it’s also telling how Salladhor Saan expresses relief in knowing that King Stannis didn’t actually forge Lightbringer. Because forging Lightbringer means human sacrifice. And why should one be deprived of their life, even if it’s for a magic sword? Davos is very right to be creeped out by it.
The theme of sacrifice shows up quite a bit in ASOIAF and Davos I isn’t the first or last time. The very first chapter in the series, Bran I, tackles this idea with Jon and the direwolves.
“Lord Stark,” Jon said. It was strange to hear him call Father that, so formal. Bran looked at him with desperate hope. “There are five pups,” he told Father. “Three male, two female.”
“What of it, Jon?”
“You have five trueborn children,” Jon said. “Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your House. Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord.”
Bran saw his father’s face change, saw the other men exchange glances. He loved Jon with all his heart at that moment. Even at seven, Bran understood what his brother had done. The count had come right only because Jon had omitted himself. He had included the girls, included even Rickon, the baby, but not the bastard who bore the surname Snow, the name that custom decreed be given to all those in the north unlucky enough to be born with no name of their own.
Their father understood as well. “You want no pup for yourself, Jon?” he asked softly.
“The direwolf graces the banners of House Stark,” Jon pointed out. “I am no Stark, Father.”
Jon, though he may desperately desire to have his own piece of magic, would not sacrifice his siblings for it. He wouldn’t dare to deprave the girls, Arya and Sansa, of their own magic even when it might be very easy to do so. This is a pretty stark contrast (pun intended) to Azor Ahai and his Nissa Nissa. Azor Ahai’s first line of thought was to sacrifice his wife whereas Jon’s was to sacrifice himself. Sure Azor Ahai got his magic sword, but Jon’s self-sacrifice is not in vain either because he later earns his own wolf, who turns out to be even more special than the rest in the pack.
Bran IV kind of alludes to the idea of self sacrifice through Old Nan’s retelling of the last hero:
So as cold and death filled the earth, the last hero determined to seek out the children, in the hopes that their ancient magics could win back what the armies of men had lost. He set out into the dead lands with a sword, a horse, a dog, and a dozen companions. For years he searched, until he despaired of ever finding the children of the forest in their secret cities. One by one his friends died, and his horse, and finally even his dog, and his sword froze so hard the blade snapped when he tried to use it. And the Others smelled the hot blood in him, and came silent on his trail, stalking him with packs of pale white spiders big as hounds—”
Though the one we know is called the “last hero”, notice that it’s not a title but a mere descriptor; there were many heroes before him who died and he was the last one standing. There is a human toll in this legend, but it’s implied to be self sacrifice. It’s also interesting that though there is mention of a blade, it is the children of the forest’s magic that is key. This does kind of bleed into what we know about the Night’s Watch and its relation to the long night. The Night’s Watch victory was a group effort, rather than the actions of any one man.
We have several legends surrounding the long night that work, but only one involves the cost of sacrificing someone else (that we know of). This might be where GRRM is headed with Stannis and his creation of Lightbringer. Sure Azor Ahai did get his magic sword, but it doesn’t negate the steep human cost. GRRM has lowkey confirmed that Stannis is sure to burn Shireen. And rather than this sacrifice not working, I think it’s more likely that it does work. Stannis does indeed create the flaming sword. But this will be directly weighed by other (self) sacrifices made for the same purpose. Stannis’ sacrifice of his daughter won’t work any better than other characters who choose to sacrifice themselves even when knowing that they are not going to go down as individual legends; I think Jon Snow will once again be the prime example of this, as he has already resigned himself to being a shadow in history despite initially wanting the opposite. Maester Aemon was right in saying that
[…] all deceive ourselves, when we want to believe. Melisandre most of all, I think. The sword is wrong, she has to know that … light without heat … an empty glamor … the sword is wrong, and the false light can only lead us deeper into darkness, Sam
The sword is wrong. Azor Ahai is NOT one to be emulated. Rather, he should be a cautionary tale. He is not any more special for his sacrifice than what the last hero or the men of the Night’s Watch did, even though we know his name but don’t know theirs. GRRM answered the question regarding sacrifice before he even posed it. To make someone else pay the price is flat out wrong. The only true and worthy sacrifice is really that of the self.
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wh1ms1g0th1c · 6 months
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avirxy · 7 months
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beauty and beast au but Claire’s the one cursed because she’s the only one I can see literally pissing a sorceress off enough to get cursed. (If we’re going off the original movie Jim would probably offer them a hot meal and a room for the night, knowing him he’d make everything super accommodating)
#are we seeing the vision or have I lost my mind#Jim would literally drop everything to help this literal hag who waltzed through the door#Claire would..not be doing that#bonus points if the witch is Morgana then they’re throwing hands#I could see her trying to offer a deal like say she’s after Claire’s magic and sevitude or something and when she refuses boom Morgana#curses her and everyone else that’s in the ballroom at the time#And because it’s Morgana she’d probably make the curse super difficult to break#so like by the time she’s 18 if she doesn’t agree to serve Morgana when the last petal on the rose falls she dies with the rose#so Claire’s kinda given up on hope cuz she’d rather die than give Morgana her magic#Barbara’s a traveling doctor so her and Strickler set off to another town for a trip and get caught in the snow storm#and they get locked up for entering the castle and trespassing#Jim goes after them because they don’t come back the day after#instead of Claire keeping them there though I think she’d just give all three the chance to leave with some pressing from her friends#Jim ends up rethinking his decision due to the fact that Toby even as a cursed object can’t for the life of him keep a secret#when he hears the castle is under a curse he’s immediately interested in helping#even if Claire really just wants this nosy human boy and his parents to be on their way#oh shit I think I just wrote another au#trollhunters#tales of arcadia#jim lake jr#claire nuñez#toa#jlaire#this was just chillin in my drafts for awhile
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doom-dreaming · 5 months
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High Flakes Combat
“Blue Lead,” Linda’s whisper cuts across TEAMCOM, crisp and several degrees colder than the icy landscape. “Hostiles approaching your position.”
Fred, tucked behind the trunk of a towering pine tree, exhales a slow, measured breath. Waiting. Listening. Without his motion tracker, only the crunch of footsteps in the snow—and Linda—could tell him when their opponents were closing in.
There. Fifteen meters out. He motions to John, positioned behind an adjacent tree. On my signal.
…ten meters…
Cover me. Go high.
…five meters…
John nods. Fred tightens his grip on his weapon.
Now.
As one, they pivot, breaching cover. Fred drops to a knee, attacking swiftly, before their adversary has a chance to retaliate.
The snowball hits Ash directly in the center of his chestplate. Active camouflage flickers briefly, then recalibrates, as the young Spartan crashes dramatically to his knees before sprawling backward, motionless.
Fred doesn’t let the theatrics distract him. The other two had to be nearby and the round wasn’t over until— A snowball whizzes past his head, followed by a sharp curse—out loud, close. He catches a shimmer of white on white as Olivia leaps to find cover and “reload,” but John is faster.
The snowball hits her thigh before she can complete her maneuver and she slides to a dejected halt in a snowbank. “Dammit! Mark!” she calls out. “You’re on your own!”
Fred doesn’t hear a verbal response. He knows he won’t, Mark’s too good to give away his position— Thwap. Fred’s vision goes fuzzy and white as Mark’s snowball connects with his visor, splattering on impact. Fred groans and flashes a red status light across his team’s HUDs. He’d be out until the next round.
“He’s on the move!” Linda barks over the comms.
Fred folds himself cross-legged into the snow and wipes his visor clean just in time to see Kelly bounding over a nearby ridge, clutching a snowball in each fist.
“I’ve got him!” She goes streaking across the snow toward a barely-visible figure—also sprinting.
Mark wouldn’t be able to outrun Kelly—a fact Fred knew the S-III was well aware of—but he was certainly trying his best.
Kelly nails Mark with both snowballs, one in the shoulder, the other in the back. He stumbles just enough that Kelly’s momentum sends her into him at full force. The clack of their colliding armor echoes like a shot as both Spartans go tumbling to the ground, sending up a minor flurry in their wake.
“Aaaaaaaand match!” Roland’s voice rings out over the simulation deck, followed by a buzzer. “Blue Team takes the win!”
“Again,” Olivia grumbles, pushing to her feet and dusting snow off her armor.
“It’s three against four,” Ash reminds her, still lying on his back a few feet from Fred.
Olivia crunches her way over and offers him a hand. “Can we make Kelly sit out the next round?”
“If you’re not having fun, leave,” John quips.
“Or maybe you should switch Kelly to our team and see how it feels,” Livi bites back, helping Ash haul himself to his feet.
“Fighting over me?” Kelly rejoins the group with Mark close behind. “I’m flattered.”
Fred chuckles. It was good to see Olivia trading barbs with John. The Gammas had warmed up to him quickly—and he to them—and it wasn’t hard to understand why. Fred was sure the S-IIIs had given him some new streaks of gray hair, but at the same time, they made him feel younger. He hoped they were having the same effect on John.
“So…” drawls a familiar voice, raised just loud enough to carry, “this is the reason my fireteams can't train today? A snowball fight.”
Every Spartan in the simulated snowscape whips toward the entrance. Commander Palmer stands at the far edge of the scene, arms crossed. She looks odd and out of place, a lone figure in a techsuit against the stark white surroundings, but no less intense than usual.
“Thought we’d try something different from the typical drills, ma’am,” Fred coughs. He’s not sure why he feels guilty; they’d requested the time and blocked out the schedule and followed protocol…even if they hadn’t said precisely what they’d be doing…
Before anyone else has a chance to speak, a snowball goes sailing over Fred’s shoulder, on a collision course for Palmer. She’s too far away to hit, but the aim is dead-accurate and it lands with a wet plap several yards directly in front of her.
Even at this distance, Fred sees her eyes narrow. The vague guilt solidifying in his gut crystallizes into ice. He knows who threw that and he’s already, reflexively, preparing for the necessary damage control—and for Linda, no less. Kelly he was used to, but Linda?
Palmer shifts her weight and fixes the seven of them with a hard stare that lasts long past the point of being uncomfortable. “Don’t go anywhere,” she eventually orders, leveling a finger in their direction. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Without leaving any opportunity for rebuttal, she turns on her heel and swiftly disappears from the deck.
Immediately, Linda’s status light starts blinking rapid-fire green across Blue Team’s HUDs. Kelly follows suit.
“Really?” Fred grumps over TEAMCOM.
“Can you blame her if it worked?” Kelly retorts.
“Yes! You’re making an assumption and setting a bad example.” He switches to his helmet’s speakers. “Gammas, don’t throw things at your commanding officers.”
“Unless you’re sleeping with them,” Kelly adds, with enough tact to keep the comment on Blue Team’s private channel.
Another green light from Linda.
Fred willfully ignores both of them.
“...we’re not in trouble, are we?” Ash removes his helmet and shakes out his hair. “To be honest…I don’t know what just happened.”
Kelly seats herself on a tree stump, legs akimbo, smugness oozing from every seam of her armor. “Palmer’s getting suited up to come play with us.”
Ash seems unconvinced but Mark shrugs. “She’ll balance the numbers. We might even start winning.”
Only Blue Team can see—and appreciate—the red light John flashes in silent response.
**********
As threatened, Palmer returns exactly ten minutes later, fully armored aside from the helmet tucked into the crook of her arm. “Okay, here’s the official story.” She strides up to the group. “We’re running an unorthodox but fully sanctioned training exercise all day.”
“I’ve cleared the schedule and put out an open invitation,” Roland chimes in. “As requested.”
Palmer nods her approval. “Figured I’d let you have your fun on the condition that the rest of us could get in on it too.” She raises an eyebrow. “Sound fair?”
“Fair enough,” Fred answers, echoing the array of green lights on his HUD. “Alright. Ground rules—we’re running blind for this, Commander. No motion trackers.”
She looks pleased. “I like a challenge.”
“If you get hit, you’re out for the round,” he continues. “Once you’re out, you can’t help anyone still standing. Round ends when a whole team goes down.” Fred nods toward the ceiling. “Roland’s keeping score.”
“Huh,” Palmer hums. “So you knew about this, too, Roland?”
“I…was informed the exercise would require a scorekeeper instead of a handler,” the AI answers, somehow managing to achieve the verbal equivalent of tip-toeing. “And I volunteered a mere fraction of my copious attention to the task.”
Palmer just rolls her eyes.
Ash clears his throat and steps forward. “If you wouldn’t mind, ma’am, we’d greatly appreciate it if you joined our team.”
“They’ve been wiping the floor with us,” Olivia adds, somewhat ruefully.
Palmer looks back and forth between Blue Team and the Gammas with a hint of a smirk. “Well.” She slips her helmet on. “Allow me to level the playing field.”
**********
And indeed, the tide began to turn. Quickly. It wasn’t that the Gammas couldn’t hold their own, but Palmer was a different flavor of ruthless and even numbers did make a difference.
Kelly, as Blue Team’s sole survivor, was in the midst of a valiant stand, but she was up against Palmer and Olivia and they were going in for the kill. Up to this point, Kelly had been relying on her speed to evade them, but Fred doubted that would be able to carry her any further.
Palmer and Livi split around the back of the snowbank Kelly had hidden behind, falling into synchronized step with each other, timing their paces perfectly. Palmer’s boots fall heavier and louder, covering Olivia’s near-silent glide around the other side.
The strategy is obvious, at least from Fred’s position of passive observation—Palmer would draw Kelly’s attention, Olivia would come up on her flank and take her out. And it would work, too…on anyone less observant than Kelly. Fred has a feeling she’ll see right through it. But one of them was going to hit her either way, so it didn’t really matter as far as the outcome was concerned.
Surprisingly, a third option presents itself. Fred realizes after a few seconds that he’s been holding his breath, expecting Kelly to explode out of the snow and make a run for it, but…she doesn’t.
Palmer reaches the other side of the snowdrift and slows, confusion evident in her body language. She paces around the area, making sure not to stay still for too long, obviously reluctant to let her guard down completely. Fred can see the hazy mirage of Olivia’s SPI suit still moving in with careful deliberation.
There was no way Kelly could have moved. She hadn’t had enough time. More importantly, she would’ve been spotted if she’d tried to flee, so why couldn’t—
Palmer disappears. One second, she’s standing on the other side of the snowbank, visible from the waist up, and the next second she’s gone. Fred can’t see much of anything, but there are sounds of a scuffle and the blur of camouflaged armor as Livi sweeps in to assist with whatever the hell had just happened.
Barely a breath later, Roland announces the end of the match. “And Gammas-Plus-Palmer emerge victorious! …or should I say Olivia, specifically, seeing as she is the last Spartan standing. You know, you really oughta come up with a better name for your team—”
There’s a burst of indignant exclamations and flustered cursing from Palmer. She reappears only to rip her helmet off and kick some snow back in the direction from which she’d escaped.
Olivia removes her own helmet; Fred is surprised to see her laughing. “She got you good!” There’s a giddiness in her voice that Fred’s never heard before, but she seems to remember who she's talking to a moment later. “...ma’am.”
Kelly pops up beyond the ridge. She remains helmeted but Fred knows there’s a shit-eating grin on her face just from her posture alone.
“What happened?” He shouts the question out loud.
“She buried herself in the fucking snow and pulled my legs out from under me,” Palmer growls as she trudges over.
“And then I hit Kelly point-blank in the face!”
Olivia’s gleeful comment is backed by Kelly’s laughter over TEAMCOM. “Worth it.”
“Hey!” A different voice cuts into the conversation, once again pulling everyone’s attention toward the entrance. “Heard there was some kinda free-for-all goin’ on in here?” Gabriel Thorne stands flanked by the rest of Fireteam Majestic, all in full Mjolnir. “Got room for another team?”
Palmer waves them in. “Come on up, Majestic. We’ll get you briefed on the rules.” She sighs and fits her helmet back on. “Hope you’re ready to get your asses kicked.”
**********
An hour later, after Majestic had carved out a few victories of their own, Crimson shows up. Rules are recounted, home bases are realigned, play resumes. Within another two hours, there are four more Spartan fireteams on the field. Alliances are formed, both openly and secretly. Several hours are devoted to building snow forts. Play evolves. Forts are defended and captured, sabotaged and reinforced.
And then Lasky arrives.
“Captain on deck!” Roland bellows.
The silence that blankets the simulation deck is instantaneous and absolute. Nobody moves. If the snowballs already in flight could have frozen in midair, they probably would’ve. Instead, they land in a chorus of muffled thwumps.
Lasky stands there for a few seconds, small and unimposing by the distant doors, sporting his trademark expression of beleaguered amusement—presumably at being called out. “Don’t stop on my account,” he eventually says. “I just wanted to watch. …unless there’s a team looking for a liability,” he jokes with a self-deprecating chuckle.
Everyone on the field exchanges glances and shrugs. A sea of status lights blink across Fred’s HUD—most amber, some green. Finally, someone from Crimson waves Lasky over. “We’ll take you, Captain!”
He seems genuinely surprised by the invitation, but begins the trek across the snow. “Try not to kill me, alright?”
That draws laughs from most of the Spartans, but it’s John who actually banters back. “No promises, sir.”
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digital999placebo · 6 months
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in any human GerIta AU, DA ONLY WAY I can think of these two meeting is in central Berlin, early December, around 23pm on a Wednesday or Thursday…. Feliciano is on his way home from having a glass of wine with his friends at a bar, he’s in a good mood and despite the cold he’s wearing his long winter coat unbuttoned… he’s swaying on the sidewalk and suddenly slips and falls, despite the circumstances rather gracefully. Ludwig, the stranger closest to Feliciano, decides to step in and help the guy, simply bc Ludwig is a nice man and not at all bc Feliciano is hawt and sexy and looks like his wet dreams from high school (and also NOT AT ALL. bc Ludwig’s brain has been conditioned into thinking he only has value when serving others). Anyway, despite Ludwig’s help, Feliciano CANNOT get his balance locked in and keeps slipping in Ludwig’s arms, despite Ludwig having a literal iron grip on him ……. alas Feliciano ends up piggy back riding Ludwig, across frosty cobblestone streets lit up by Christmas lights strung between buildings where the windowsills r covered with snow and decorated with greenery ……. n the night is deep and blue and LOVE is in da air …… and from a bar, half empty save the middle aged regulars, u can hear smooth jazz as Feliciano drunkenly points out the directions of his apartment. Anyway this works for literally almost all time periods and I will NOT take any criticism . Talk to the hand this is how they meet as humans
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sneeping with his legs up over his head for some reason... weird boye
#cats#love the second picture... skrungly sleepy well rested boye face...#since he's an elderly boy now sometimes when he wakes up from a nap he looks a bit scruffy and squinty eyed#Hard to beleive he's like 15 though.. he still looks like a kitten to me.. due to his giant round creature eyes and childlike demeanor#I think it's interesting that like... baby cats are babies. kittens are kittens. and you can tell a cat is like 'young adult' phase#looking from like a few months to maybe 1yr or 2yrs.. but after that they just always look the same to me#a 5 yr old cat is a 10 yr old cat is a 15 year old cat. unless the cat in question is particulalry aged or youthful#I still have so so little energy... it's been icy here this week. like not even FUN but just scary icy even thoguh i lOOOVE the cold#and its my favorite weather. I think it'd be okay actually if I had a woodburning stove/fireplace/hearth thing. literally thats my only#concern with the power going out. I genuinely don't mind stuff like having to go to the bathroom in buckets or cook over a fire or do other#less conveninet things. Its just that if eveyrhtng is electric then you have no way to cook and all of that. well.. and I literally need#background noise to go to sleep lest my ocd sprials become so loud I am slowly driven into maddness.. but a few battery packs or something#and a phone with one downloaded video I could play on repeat is fine for that. I dont need internet. ANYWAY.. so so sad that my fav#orite season ever (winter) is here. and the first cold of the winter is like... just an ice storm that you cant even walk in. I#love like 4 feet of snow where you can play in it and stuff. But just a thin flat sheet of a few inches of ice over every imaginable surfac#is not really playable. the wind speeds are so high and so many trees fall it's actually not that safe to go hang out outside anyway unless#you were in a totally clear open field. which is SAD also because i love ice and high winds. i love to stand out there and get whipped in t#he face with ice crystals and feel like I'm in some dramatic movie or something. but alas.. the threat of being attacked by a falling tree.#I did go out some but again it's like. literallyyou cant walk on it. so I just squatted and dragged myself along the ground lol#One of my stories has a whole section where the main characters are trapped in a deadly cold environment for a week and have to use magic#to survive and etc. etc. so I'm always like.. ouuu.. I should go in the ice.. it's Writing Research actually.. *foolishly gets frostbite*#THOUGH yesterday I went on a harrowing evil journey down a bunch of icy hilly roads to go check on some person's cat because the cat#had been left in the house for like 5 days at that point with nobody to check on them and nobody else seemed to want to do anything#about it (like call all of the neighbors or try to get someone out there) so I just went myself with a roommate who agreed to drive me.#It seemed acting totally normal and I gave it more food and water but.. I am still worried about it.. Apparently the person will be able#to get back to their house tomorrow but.. I dont trust them. But I couldnt take the cat with me because it's like.. a stranger's cat#basically and also no carrier + very skittish.. so I feared if I just tried to carry them bare handed they'd definitely leap from my grasp#and then it'd be like.. sliding on a sheet of ice chasing a cat and so on.. I still think they need to be watched for health issues tho >:|#ANYWAY.... many cat adventures lately... and strange weather... I wish for a normal week without always so many Things Happening.. augh
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