#;bad enough i wasted resources on a fire lance
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Tangled Salt Marathon - Short Cuts
So the reviews for Rapunzel’s Return are taking longer then expected and due to real life complications I’ve now fallen behind in my intended schedule. So in order to catch up, I’ll be doing a series of rapid-fire mini reviews of all the official shorts that the series released in addition to the usual reviews.
Summary: Ten shorts were released throughout the three seasons of the show detailing Rapunzel’s misadventures in Corona.
Check Mate
Pascal tries to get Max to play chess with him, but the horse is too busy with guard duty to play. Pascal’s antics wind up causing a fire and Max must save him.
This short, plus the later Unicorn-y short, and the episode Pascal’s Story pretty much confirms that chess is pascal’s favorite game. Shame that’s the only idiosyncrasy that the series gives besides being the conscious of the group that sometimes gives the other characters guilty looks.
I said it before and I’ll say again, the animal sidekicks in the franchise don’t have enough personality to carry whole episodes by themselves, but shorts like this are ok and where things like this should have stayed.
Prison Bake
Attila recounts how he used his baking skills to break his fellow pub thugs out of prison back before they met Rapunzel.
This just raises so many questions. Why were they arrested? What was their punishment besides jail? Why weren’t they just re-arrested later after escaping? If they were all wanted criminals before meeting Raps then why did they try to call the guards during the movie to collect the reward money on Eugene’s head? Do we really think “crack-down on crime” Frederic would pardon them before Rapunzel’s return? How do we know they weren’t just framed given how shitty Corona’s legal system is?
Like I just need a tiny bit more context show. Two to three minutes isn’t really long enough to set up conflicts. These shorts should have been more like five or six minutes really.
Also Ludwig the Castle Cook is also just wasted. They built a model for him and hired a VA and everything and all he does is appear in this one short and nothing else. Like I think he makes a non-speaking cameo in The Alchemist Returns or something, but that’s it. It’s a clear mismanagement of resources.
Make Me Smile
Rapunzel tries unsuccessfully to make Old Lady Crowley smile, but it’s not until she holds an honest conversation with the woman does she find a solution.
This is best short out of the bunch, and not just cause it stars the great Pat Carol either.
This is how Rapunzel should have been handled in the main series proper. Which is why I screen-grabbed this whole convo. It’s perfect.
Rapunzel spent 18 years lock in a tower. Of course she doesn’t understand different perspectives from her own cause her development has been stunted. She’s compassionate but lacks empathy. So she has a hard time connecting with others, but once she slows down an actually takes the time to listen to people she is capable of learning.
We needed more of this; just on a larger scale. Have Raps make mistakes, have people be annoyed with her or right angry when she messes up, and then have her learn.
Why the series thought it was a good idea to have everyone kiss her royal arse instead while she dug in her heels and consendinly took charge of everything even while still screwing up, I’ll never know.
Hare Peace
Feldspar asks Rapunzel to take care of his “precious”. Rapunzel thinks he means a pet rabbit, and is run ragged trying to keep up with it, but it turns out he was talking about his prized cabbage instead.
These shorts overall work a lot better than the main show. They know what they are and don’t try to be anything else. Therefore they deliver what is promised competently. They’re nothing amazing nor groundbreaking and in truth I wouldn’t want a whole series of them, but I get the feeling this is what the head executives at Disney were expecting when they signed off on the show and not whatever mess the main series turned out to be.
Night Bite
Rapunzel, Eugene, and the animals are out camping for the night and Max gets irritated by all the bugs.
What doesn’t work so well is the placement of some of the shorts. This particular short aired during season two and indeed that would make sense given that they are camping out here. Which why would they do that if they were still in Corona...
Yet some of the later shorts, which also aired during season two, clearly do take place in Corona debunking that theory. Just some context would be nice show, that’s all.
Also this short is meh.. not bad, not, good, just there.
Hiccup Fever
Rapunzel gets the hiccups and everyone in Corona seems to have advice on how to get rid of them, but only Eugene has the solution.
I’d argue that this is the funniest of the shorts. I legit laughed out loud at some points which is rare.
However it does sadly prove on thing.
Rapunzel was always a shit girlfriend, even before season three.
Being a douche to your boyfriend isn’t funny show.
Snowball
Rapunzel and Pascal plan to have some fun in the snow and things go awry.
So where and when is this exactly?
Unlike the other shorts, the context and setting for this one is paramount to whether or not Rapunzel is a simply lazy or a an outright dick.
For you see, Rapunzel had never been outside in the show before Queen for a Day. Ergo, this can only take place during the latter half of season one or during season two.
Now season two makes a lot of sense. They’re at some cabin in the woods that was never mentioned are seen on screen before and this did air during season two anyways. If that is the case then Raps just avoiding her planned road trip like always.
However, the last short and the next two also aired during season two and all of those do take place in Corona during season one and even the wiki states that they were all meant to take place during season one in original concept.
Yet if that is the case then Rapunzel is ignoring Varian right now and playing around in the thing that almost killed him...
Oh and that still doesn’t explain where this cabin is. Is it the mountain retreat that the King and Queen were going to spend their anniversary at?
What’s really mind boggling though is that they made this short in order to reuse the character models from Queen for a Day in order to save money, but then went and built this whole set that’s never seen outside of this short.
Like seriously who was on charge of the budget decisions in the series?
Hairdon't
Rapunzel offers to cut Eugene’s hair but then messes it up. She spends all day trying to stop Eugene from seeing his new do, but turns out the hairstyle becomes a hit with the Corona townspeople.
Rapunzel seriously lucked out here and it borderlines on the main series style levels of BS. She asks Eugene not to get upset before he sees what she’s done and, guess what, he is rightly upset.
Honestly the series needed to let Eugene get angry at Rapunzel for stuff. That’s what happens in relationships, you will make your partner mad at times and that’s ok. It’s all about how both of you handle that.
We never get to see how Eugene and Rapunzel would handle a real ordinary conflict and not just magic/ex girlfriend shenanigans that don't end with them putting off talking about it.
Even their best episodes in season two still are over conflicts that don’t have any immediate impact on their lives and are mostly hypotheticals to them, like kids or how other people should approach dating. And of course by season three Eugene is just reduced to a doormat.
Unicorn-y
Rapunzel tries to help Vladimir find his missing prized unicorn figurine in this spoof of old detective movies. Turns out Max and Pascal had found it and were using it to play chess.
Ok, first off, Eugene has the patience of a saint and deserves so much better than Raps and her bullcrap here. Same goes for Lance who is tied up as well during this scene.
But also this is another short that needed to be more than three mins long. The “mystery” is over before it even starts and the film noir parody only barely has time register in the viewer’s mind and then it’s over with.
Shorty’s Theme Song Takeover!
The last of the shorts aired after the show had ended as part of the Disney Channel’s on going promotional gimmick “Theme Song Takeover!”
Shorty finds Rapunzel’s journal and sings his own version of the show’s theme song, “Wind in my Beard”.
It’s ok.
All of Disney’s animated shows for the 2019/2020 line up has done one and some are funnier than than this and others not so. The Shorty one is pretty middle ground but what makes it work is that Rapunzel is completely oblivious to what’s going on and only Shorty, always the anomaly of the series, can perceive the fourth wall. Thus proving he was never really human.
As for placement, we know it’s season three cause of Rapunzel’s dress and they’re mostly likely inside the Snuggly Duckling right now. So just slot it in wherever you see fit.
Conclusion
That’s it for the shorts. The rest of Rapunzel’s Return should be up later this week and then hopefully I’ll be all caught up in time to cover the next episode next week.
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A Child With a Crest
Summary: A birthing woman waits for her husband to return.
Rating: R - Content features heavy themes. Not suitable for most audiences. Consult warnings before proceeding.
Graphic depictions of infanticide, eugenics and domestic violence. Reader discretion is highly advised.
Words: 1700
Notes: I warned ya that my fluff fever would not last long.
He is gone again. My husband. There is nothing I can do but wait.
It was the fifth day of Garland Moon. The nights were shorter and the days were warmer. Soon, the Day of Love will be upon us, and I hope an heir is a better gift than any old garland.
The midwife has bathed the baby and placed it in my arms, even though he told her not to until he returns. I am numb. When I look into the red, wailing face of my child, I feel nothing. I do not dare. My breasts ache in response to its cry. I suppose that means I should feed it, but I do not dare do that, either. It gets nothing. No milk. No name. No right to exist. Not until my husband says so.
Do not get too attached, I tell myself. Not this time. There will come a moment for you to indulge, but not now and not today.
It is much worse than the last time. The waiting, that is. The time seems to extend infinitely while I was left alone in my chambers, with it on my arms and a heart full with terrors. I was afraid then, too, but I was so certain that everything would be all right in the end. I was a naïve girl, then, and I did not know the reality of my condition in this house.
It was plain bad luck that I conceived during a time when my husband was so frequently away from home. He is an important man, the Margrave, often too busy for such trivialities as wife and family. The Sreng barbarians were acting out once more that Moon, and so he was out in the border, keeping them in check. I was faithful, though. The child was definitively his.
He did not believe me. He called me all manner of vile names, he threw accusations at me, but he never once laid hand nor iron on me. He would never do that, unless I provoked him. He is a good man, and good men do not hurt deserving wives.
When the child was born, he did not even come to look at it. Instead, the cleric who birthed it took a sample of its blood and the Margrave ran to the church to have it tested. A child with a Crest is a necessity in those wildlands, and the Western Church is kind enough to test blood samples of the nobles and bannermen of the region, lest we waste resources on those who will not be able to fight for us when time comes.
These are matters of public record, the bishop in Arianrhod was quick to point out whenever questioned about it. The noblemen had every right to check whether their wives had made a scandal of myself and besmirched their good names.
I waited, then as now, knowing I had done no wrong, but terrified nonetheless. I rocked that baby, murmuring soothing words, telling it and myself that everything would be all right. Only that time, I had the misfortune to believe in my own words. My husband would see that I had not been unfaithful, and all would be well.
When he returned, yellow eyes blazing with cold fury like a ravenous wolf, he spared no glance for the midwife, only snapping, "Out!" before rounding on me.
He stood at the foot of my bed, the Lance of Ruin in his hand, glaring. I kept my eyes lowered, hunching protectively over my baby.
"What is wrong, milord?" I asked, willing my voice not to shake.
"What is wrong?!" He hissed. "What is wrong, you fucking useless bitch, is that thing attached to your tit. Put it away from you this instant, or by all that is pure and powerful, you will wish that you had."
Trembling but obedient, I laid the keening baby on the bed. My husband settled the Relic down by the door and strode over to it, lifting the child with an expression of revulsion. He turned towards the door.
"W-where are you taking it, milord?" I asked, my voice faltering and my eyes filling with tears.
"I will not have this abomination in my house." He said, simple and cold, with no attachment to anything.
As soon as he came, he was gone, taking the weapon and slamming shut the door behind him.
The infant's wail drifted back to me from the corridor for a moment, then a flash of red light appeared under the door, and the sound abruptly ceased. A scream of anguish tore from my throat. I slumped onto the bed, curled around my aching and empty womb.
I do not know how long I lay there. Ten minutes. An hour. Longer still. When he returned, I threw myself at him with a cry of rage. I would have clawed those cold eyes out of his head if I had reached him, but he held his weapon, and I had nothing but my own hands.
He shoves the dull end of the Lance of Ruin against my womb with murderous force. Pain lit every nerve of my body and I crumpled to the floor. It was over almost as soon as it began, but I did not try to rise.
"Why?" I wailed.
"The test came back negative." He spat. "You bore me a Crestless bastard, you worthless cunt! I thought I was getting a wife of unquestionable breed who would bear me a powerful heir. Your family sold me a bill of goods. You are a disgrace to your name. I should send you back to them in pieces."
"Please." I begged, raising my tear-streaked face to look at him. "Give me one more chance. It was not my fault! I-I will do better next time. I promise I…!"
With a look of sneering disgust, he turned on his heel and strode from the room, slamming the door behind him once more.
He gave me another chance, though, because he is a fair man. A good man. This is my last chance. I suppose he had to, to save face. It would have done him any more good than me if word had got out that I had borne him a Crestless child, lest the bannermen think the blood is thinning. So, it was kept quiet, and he put the word about that the baby had been born dead. The midwife was paid handsomely for her silence. It was not the first time such a thing had happened, after all, and it would not be the last.
I did not conceive again for nearly a year. My husband is such an important man, always busy, rarely home. Yet, he did his duty in my bed, and a year later, I was with child for a second time.
Now, I wait, cradling another infant to my breast, so warm and alive, murmuring the same soothing words that the other once heard, but not believing them at all.
The worst that could happen would be for him to kill this baby, too, and send me back to my family in disgrace. I have no illusions about how they would greet a daughter who had borne two Crestless sons. It would be better for everyone if the Margrave kills us both.
He would be right to do it, after all. There is no reason why a good, Goddess-fearing nobleman should permit a Crestless child to pass between his wife's thighs. To allow such a child to live is anathema to all that we hold true, and a noblewoman who cannot bear a Crested child is worthless. A man such as my husband is entitled to a proper wife who can bear him the heir he deserves.
However… I can see, with my clear eyes and strong conviction, that my baby is so strong and perfect and beautiful. I cannot wish it dead, no matter what its faults. I cannot just sit by and let it happen. Not again. I could try to run now, before he comes back. I would not get far, though. Not carrying a baby. Not with my body exhausted by birth and fear.
Even if I did run, where could I hide? There was no household in Faerghus who would shelter the runaway wife of the Margrave, the Royal Guard would look for me anywhere and everywhere in Fódlan, and a man has a legal right to his wife and child to do as he pleases.
I am not a coward. I will not run. I will stay and face him. Better that I should die fighting for myself and my child, even if there is no point to it, and no hope.
Footsteps are heard from downstairs. He is back. My husband. Our time has run out. A shiver of fear rolls down my spine. I wonder if anyone will miss me when I am gone, I wonder if I will go to a place where I can be with my babies, if I deserve blessings after letting my oldest child just be killed with a stroke of a lance.
I wish there was something more I could do than be afraid, but there is nothing left. Nothing but me and it.
Footsteps in the corridor. My baby is crying. I am holding it too tightly, but I cannot seem to loosen my grip.
The door opens, and he is standing there, silhouetted by the light from the hallway. He crosses the room to stand beside my bed, eyes unreadable.
"Give him to me, milady." He says in a low voice.
My breath catches in my throat. Him, not it.
I cannot refuse him. He is too powerful, too commanding. Arms shaking, I offer my baby up to him. He lifts the child into his arms.
"Sylvain Gautier." He murmurs, cradling our child's head in his palm. "Welcome, my son."
I feel dizzy, faint with relief I had not dared to hope for. We will live, Sylvain and I, because my husband decrees it. and one day, he will be a powerful, proud, and righteous Margrave, just like his father.
*_*_*_*_*
Fire Emblem Masterlist
Three Houses Masterlist
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Voltron notes 1 (edited?)
Ep 1
No spoiler opening theme
Those are some skinny ass space suits. Shouldn’t they have like tethers and shit to keep them from accidently floating off?
Harvesting ice cores on Pluto or Kerberos or whatever
They wanna meet aliens
No one notices the ship until its right on top of them. Shiro just assumes its a hostile ship
Bullshit and lazy. Fuckin aliens speaking and understanding English
Also Shiro looks so much better with the darker skin. Like, bring back this look.
This ship is very green and that’s unusual compared to later lighting schemes
Lance is a dick to his friend
Also, you’d think an air and space program would weed out the folks with motion sickness
Lance is overestimating the abilities of himself, the crew, and the ship
Welp, Hunk fucked up the electronics with the barf. Pidge fell from not using her seatbelt.
Mutanious comments.
Lance got the team killed
Iverson called them jackasses
I know I shouldn’t be mentioning stuff that hasent happened yet but like? How the fuck does Iverson not recognise Pidge? She looks just like her brother but tiny and that didn’t raise any alarms? She didn’t even dye her hair or anything? Also is her mom ok with this? Is she skipping out on her classes that she should be having as Katie?
Vomit is not an approved lubricant. Heh
One of those chicks has green hair
Military exploration school
Pidge doesn’t know how to keep her mouth shut
Lance is a fuckin bro
Why is Iverson chewin out Lance for something Pidge said?
Poor Lance
Lights out by five? And it's already getting dark?
Ok but Lance and Hunk in civilian clothes makes them stand out so much while they’re trying to sneak around. WHy not carry backpacks with their regular clothes in them while they wear the uniforms until they find a safe place to change.
Lance is that friend who gets everyone into trouble
Have I mentioned that I hate fat jokes?
Also these kids are shit at sneaking. They didn’t even wait a minute to make sure the patrol dude couldn’t just turn his head and see them. They also made a shit ton of noise.
Pidge is bad at sneaking too, didn’t make sure she wasn’t followed and didn’t keep an eye out for anyone who might spot her on the roof.
Hunk is scared of heights
Pidge is bad at lying
Hunk is nosey af
Lance is trying to be a good team leader
Pidge is trying to uncover a government conspiracy and picked up alien radio chatter.
If a teenager with little funds and homemade equipment can pick up alien radio chatter than the people who listen to the stars for a living sure as shit picked this shit up.
Lance doesn’t believe in aliens.
Hunk is scared of aliens
School is on lock down
Holy crow. Lance is a potty mouth
Hunk didn’t believe in aliens either
Pidge and Lance jump at the chance to go check out a crashed alien ship. Hunk doesn’t like this.
How the fuck did Pidge remotely hack a camera feed?
Ok but like it makes total sense for them to quarantine Shiro. He might have space pox.
Also Shiro’s skintone changes between 2 dif frames
Hunk neither knows nor cares who Shiro is. And is trying to be the voice of reason
I’m taking that as a fat joke. So fuck you show.
Where’d Keith get the hover car?
Where does Keith get all the explosives? Does he make them?
Lance spotted his eternal rival and doesn’t want to be beat in rescuing the hero. Hunk knows who Keith is
Pidge doesn’t know who Keith is
Why’d they choose that ugly ass tone for Shiro there? He looks kinda grey
Lance was not important enough for Keith to remember him
They’re making Keith take them along for the ride. Also that is not a vehicle designed to carry so many people.
Keith’s got snark.
Pidge yer not doing anything else the least you can do is be useful and keep Shiro from falling off the bike.
Hunk can identify every teacher chasing them
Keith is having fun driving while everyone else screams in terror
So Shiro’s just wearing Keith’s dad’s clothes
Convenient amnesia
Also Shiro’s got a generic ass masculine face
Keith can sense energy
So, those markings and paintings had to have been made by some Native Americans. Which group? What’s the timeframe? Those paintings are showing Blue do stuff so how long was her pilot still around and kicking for? Did she have other pilots before going into lockdown and just chose to stay on Earth? How’d she get to Earth in the first place if fish dude probably died in battle with Galra forces?
Lance hesitates b4 shaking the mystery alien cyborg hand
Hunk is nervous that there might be an alien invasion soon.
Hunk is nosey as hell and a bit of a dick
If I point out everything that is or probably is a fat joke I’ll be here forever
Hunk is smart as hell
Matching a wavelength of an element to a terrain carved by erosion? What? That’s not how anything works
Wait, if Keith has pics of the murals why didn’t they start looking there?
Yeah no those kids are hurt, possibly dead from that fall
The Voltron
The eyes have no pupils and the head isn’t moving, how can you tell the eyes are following you?
So did all of the lions pick these kids and college student from seeing them through Blue’s perspective? How does the lion choosing thing work?
Hunk states the obvious
How is Lance supposed to read the screen when the text is constantly changing. That’s not how computer.
Lance takes Blue on a joy ride and even Keith is not having fun
Also Blue is just fucking up the poor desert
Hunk is a little bitch who thinks giving people what they want will stop them
Holy crow. Hunk has a potty mouth.
So there’s just like a Galra ship right at Earth. The Galra know where Earth is and probably invade it. We just gonna forget about that? Like yes that ship is chasing the lion but nothing is stopping more galra going to Earth.
Shiro is the senior officer so Lance defers to him
So the lions can open wormholes on their own.
Hunk vomits inside Blue
Lance why?
How did none of them notice the castle. Like that is a massive ass castle
They just didn’t check to see if the air was human breathable
Pidge, why the fuck would the steps be bigger if the control seat of the lion was human sized?
Alien tech speaks english
Why do they reuse Cree’s voice for so much
Why do aliens from 10000 yrs ago fucking speak english
Also fucking elves
Also fucking Europeans
Rude. Allura’s first response to meeting an alien is insulting his species looks
Quiznak. Coran has a potty mouth
Also how the fuck do you know anything about this alien’s biology? Why the fuck would a sleeper hold fucking work?
SO why didn’t Alfor use the ‘strongest weapon in the universe’ to fight Zarkon? What, did Black not want any other paladin than Zarkon?
Alfor lies to children.
So how did they send away the other 4 lions? Alfor probably got caught and killed but like from that flashback ep the other three og paladins weren’t in their armor nor shown near the lions or anything. Did the lions hide themselves? Did they have other paladins that piloted them away?
King of the Galra? Bitch he was an emperor well before his fall you should know this.
Convenient amnesia.
How long is the average Galra lifespan?
Could Haggar not? Sense the Blue lion on Earth? How?
Also Haggar really went and got herself a whole ass monster husband
Zarkon calls in the squad. Sends Sendak to fuck shit up
Lance is not good with numbers
Sigh
How do yall even know the food in the castle is safe for humans?
Coran how the fuck u know yall the last Alteans left? Did ya fuckin look?
How the fuck did some nasty ass mice get into the fucking cryopod? How did they survive in a cryopod calibrated for an altean? Why are the mice necessary to the story?
How do the alteans recognize a galra battleship after 10000 yrs?
Lance starts a fight with Keith for no reason. Shiro breaks up the fight.
Did I mention that I hate body functions humor?
Why and how did Alfor connect the lions to Allura’s life force?
Coran just straight up called Pidge a slightly less stupid than average primitive. Racist as fuck.
Lion’s choose their paladin so Allura just fucking assigns lions to aliens she’s known for less than an hour.
How does she know anything about these aliens? Its been less than 5 mins since she met them.
How the fuck does Allura know here all the lions are but the red one?
How do we know Voltron is the most powerful in the universe? They ain’t seen the entire universe
How do the Alteans know how long an earth hour is?
So an altean brought Green to this planet?
What the fuck kinda dumb ass rabbits come out of hiding when they know strange creatures are near?
To be fair, peaceful might mean something else in Altean. They are fucking space Brits
Hunk asks good questions when he’s not stating the obvious
Also that is a barren ass planet. But it was formerly inhabited.
Hunk rewires alien machinery while under heavy fire
Why does it take so long for yellow’s murals to start glowing? Was Yellow thinking about whether or not she wanted Hunk as her Paladin? Yellow really said if you want me you gotta put in effort.
The Galra were this close to getting Yellow too.
Pidge asks questions.
Who built that pyramid for Green and why did they let it get overgrown?
Pidge somehow didn’t break a leg from that jump
So I’m gonna assume that Blue told Yellow what was up
How well can Yellow move through rock?
Green really wanted Pidge. Like she was lighting shit up immediately.
So Blue actually got pretty damaged from regular ship fire and hiding the ground wrong
Hunk would apparently have let Lance die
Pidge and Shiro are some lyin ass bitches
Lord of the Known Universe. Most of the Galra empire is empty space
It took 600 yrs between a grandfather and grandson altean?
Lance and Hunk vote run
Pidge votes stay and fight
Um. Why would the Galra fuck up Arus when yall are the top priority? Like, sure they can come back for it but the lions are a bigger deal and thus they would chase yall over take Arus
Hunk is making very good points
Also Keith, while Sendak could destroy Arus and then come after yall. It’d be a waste of time and resources.
Keith votes stay and fight
Shiro chooses not to vote
Alfor’s hologram admits he fucked up with sending the lions away
Allura votes stay and fight and I guess Coran isn’t voting like Shiro
Fuck you show. Why did we need eighteen thousand fuckin fat jokes?
Coran is an asshole
Ok but like that doesn’t look like a good chest plate? Like it looks like if they bent over they’d get poked/stabbed by it? And what’s up with the high sides of the belts?
What the fuck Pidge?! That coulda killed Lance or taken him out for a good while?
Wait, if the ship has a thing that can like just fucking make suits? Why can't they just make more bayards? Why wouldn’t Alfor design something to make more bayards?
Why doesn’t the galra ship have rear view cameras?
Wait! How the fuck do you cut a hole in a space ship and that not fuck with pressurization or set off any safety allarms?! The fuck kinda bullshit is that?
Sendak? Why do you expect aliens to know what that beam was for if you didn’t tell them?
~False surrender is a fucking war crime b/c it removed the option of surrendering for real if the need arrives so it leads to more fucking people dying~
No they didn’t Shiro. Battleships are things that get mass produced. If this is the exact same ship u got put in after the green one then that is bullshit on a cosmic scale.
Shiro is ok with letting prisoners die. Pidge is not, granted it's probably b/c she thinks her family might be on there.
Poor Mrs. Holt. She just got fuckin forgotten by everyone.
So Pidge has an outburst and fucking disobeys the mission leader. Shiro decides to help her just b/c he might know one or two of the people he was willing to let die. And they leave Keith with no fucking backup.
Keith would have legit died if the guards remembered that they have fucking guns and can shoot him when he dropped his shield. Which means Keith would have died if not for plot bullshit b/c his teammates don’t particularly care about his health and safety. Pidge and Shiro care more about the male Holts than Keith and all of the other prisoners that might be on the ship.
Wow.
How does Keith not hold this against them?
No the mice were not necessary, not if either of these dunces whent and opened the control panel from the other side.
That sounds like bullshit.
Ya know I didn’t have any problems with Hunk the engineer being able to operate an alien elevator or drill by hotwiring shit. But I do call bullshit on Pidge reprogramming a sentry pod thing by changing the connection of one wire.
I still call bullshit on aliens speaking english and all atmospheres being 100% agreeable to humans. B/c that is bullshit
And why the fuck would the color of Rover’s lights fucking change?
… they only checked one fucking room for prisoners but that’s it I guess? The fuck
Why did the Red lion let the Galra take her? Did she consider that one of the galra on the ship might make a good paladin for her?
Keith gets caught b/c his dumb ass starts shouting on a stealth mission
Keith, they already have the lion. Yer the one trying to take it
Like I said previously the guards forget they have guns and thus Keith lives.
So… how did Keith impress the Red lion? He fought people, lost and blew out the airlock. Which is still a loss if the lion didn’t feel like saving him.
Vore
Guards continue to forget they have fucking guns for plot reasons.
Hunk and the gang leave without destroying the enemy ship or making sure that its irreparably damaged
Coran, Lance, and Hunk have foul mouths
And this is why you fucking confirm yer kill
Why isn’t there a combine button?
Heh, Yellow’s face after slamming Red. Also Red looks so offended about being rammed.
What the cheese
Hunk’s gone into panic mode and Keith has accepted death.
Shiro gives a speech and they form Voltron
Why are the bad guys giving them the time to form voltron?
Why doesn’t Voltron have a tail? Where does Black’s tail go? Voltron should have a tail.
Any other prisoners on that ship are dead as fuck
How did I watch this show the first time? It's not good. It’s pretty but it is not good.
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a bit of historical / military context for 1917
because it certainly added to my appreciation of the film to understand a little more of the background of a few of the lines :’) ♡
“the last time i was told the germans had gone, it didn’t end well”:
here, schofield is referring to the opening day of the somme on the 1st of july 1916, and, more specifically, the first day of the first battle of thiepval ridge.
in the week prior to the opening day, the british expeditionary force (BEF) let loose an artillery barrage on the german positions of some 1.7 million shells. the commander of the fourth army, general sir henry rawlinson, told his subordinate commanders: “nothing could exist at the conclusion of the bombardment in the area covered by it.” in short, the germans were supposed to be gone. so sure were the generals of utter success, a misguided feeling of complete calm optimism filtered down through the ranks - so much so that the infantry forces were instructed that there need be no hurry in getting across no man’s land and into the enemy trenches: there would be little to no resistance, as the germans and all their artillery and machine gun outposts would have been obliterated, and they could take it at a leisurely pace across the land that was hundreds of yards wide at some points.
of course, within just a few minutes, the opening day turned into a catastrophic disaster. the artillery barrage had hardly touched the german defences and the majority of their troops had been sheltered safe and sound in deep underground bunkers for the entire week. the barbed wire had not been cut by the shelling as the generals had hoped; the land between the british and german lines was torn up by their own artillery and muddy from days of rain; and the germans were not gone. when the british mine at the hawthorn redoubt was blown at 07:20 rather than at 07:28, when the other mines along the front line were due to be detonated to begin the offensive, the germans were given a full ten minutes warning of the british attack and could set up their defences before the infantry had even gone over the top of their trenches.
at 07:30, 2,000 officers blew their whistles all along the 12-mile stretch of front and the 65,000 soldiers of the first wave climbed out into no man’s land all at the same time and began their simultaneous advance in one, long line. when schofield climbed out of his trench, he would have started on the muddy, uphill climb towards the ruins of thiepval village, with tens upon tens of thousands of soldiers on either side of him and the men that he had gone through training with most likely among them - in relative silence at first, as the echoes of the whistles died away, but soon in roaring chaos, screaming confusion, and white-hot fear as the wire was discovered to be uncut, the germans were discovered to be very much alive, and the orderly advance fell into bewildered and terrified disarray. within seconds, it was slaughter. 65,000 soldiers died on that first day alone and over four million would become casualties in the following four months, making it one of the bloodiest battles in human history.
all because, despite cheerful promises, prideful boasting, and empathetic assurances to the contrary, the germans were not gone.
“lieutenant leslie has command”:
it really does need saying just what a vast degree of difference there is between a major being in command, as had been the case before leslie was forced to take over, and a lieutenant. the section of the yorks that were holding the front line was most likely a company, around 150 soldiers at full strength. a company was commanded by a major, with a captain as second-in-command, while a lieutenant was the second lowest ranking commissioned officer in the BEF, just above a second lieutenant.
to put into perspective what a lieutenant’s role usually comprised, they were in command of one platoon each - around 50 soldiers - with a sergeant as their second-in-command, corporals in command of each of the three or four sections within the platoons, and lance corporals in command of the fire teams. platoons would have a small headquarters, and command of one was usually a newly commissioned officer’s first posting before they moved on to bigger and better things. it is therefore staggering, and truly upsetting in the context, that a lieutenant was put in a position where he was forced to take over in the place of a major, a full two ranks above him - and even more so that he was clearly left as the highest ranking officer in the company.
no wonder he was so overwhelmed - he was a relatively junior officer, already traumatised by war and most likely by losing all the men he may have been close to only two days ago, who had suddenly been handed the lives and wellbeing of a hundred men and told to care for and lead them. the burden of such sudden responsibility, of not being able to do or be enough for them, would have been too much to cope with for most anyone, and it’s little wonder he turned to alcohol to numb the fear and, perhaps, the insecurity.
“the germans are gone” / “i think they wanted to bury us”:
from february through to the 5th of april 1917 - 1 day before the beginning of the film - the german army initiated operation alberich and retreated back to a newly formed defensive position known as the siegfried position, or the hindenburg line to the BEF. it was built to shorten their stretch of held land by 30 miles and replace the former front line, which had been increasingly manned by insufficient numbers of physically and psychologically drained soldiers and which could no longer be held: their fighting force on the western front had been depleted and exhausted by the battle of the somme in 1916, the success of their offensives on the eastern front had forced them to stretch their resources across an even larger stretch of land, and the entrance of romania into the war had added even further strain.
by wasting the land between their old trench systems and their new line, they hoped to delay an expected spring offensive by the british and french forces. to achieve this, they completely desolated the landscape, turning it into a bleak and devastated wasteland that would severely try the logistics and resources of the anglo-french advance, and render it unusable, uninhabitable, and often dangerous to even cross: they systematically destroyed bridges, buildings, roads, forests, and wells; booby-trapped buildings and objects that they thought might tempt a british soldier to pick up, such as trophy helmets, souvenirs, and food; and left the remains of barbed wire entanglements, deep shell holes and old trenches full of water, and unexploded artillery shells in the former battlefields.
“the sap trench was blown to hell weeks ago”:
sap trenches were temporary, shallow tunnels dug under no man’s land and towards enemy lines so close to the surface that when an offensive was launched, the attackers could collapse the tunnel roof, advance troops into a trench that was now far closer to the defenders than the latter were anticipating and way beyond the front line that now lay behind them, and go over the top with a much shorter distance to cover before they reached the enemy trenches.
had they been better and more extensively used during the battle of the somme, they might have made all the difference to the soldiers who had to advance across no man’s land in full view of the germans watching from up above on the high ground.
“at least wear your medal”:
it’s possible schofield was awarded a medal for gallantry at the somme - perhaps for having reached the village of thiepval itself, as a few advancing BEF troops were seen to have done (and which then ultimately resulted in even more carnage, as the no doubt terrified and bewildered soldiers entering the village and finding themselves alone and without the rest of their battalion inadvertently prompted the british artillery to direct fire away from the german defences in the village, thus leaving the troops still trapped down below open to even worse targeted machine gun fire) when most scarcely made it out of the trenches - but it’s perhaps more likely that he was simply awarded a medal for having participated in the battle.
bonus bit, because it breaks my heart:
it’s entirely possible that, with the air of optimism in the BEF prior to the first day of the somme, schofield, perhaps a fairly fresh recruit, was daring to feel hopeful. that he was smiling and laughing and believing that maybe it would actually work - maybe it would all be okay. and that, afterwards, he was left with his spirit destroyed. if schofield was a different person before the war - if he was happier, if he smiled more, if he softly but passionately loved books and poetry and flowers - then thiepval took it all away and turned him into the quiet, hollow-eyed man we know.
(and, to just copy-paste my own tags on an earlier post about the fact that he’s seemingly stagnated at lance corporal after so many months because it somewhat ties in:
have they tried to promote scho and he said no? has he just sunk into his silence and become almost invisible and forgotten? has he done something wrong and they won't promote him because of it? bad behaviour? did he go mad after thiepval and do that thing some soldiers in the trenches did where they just try to go over the top and get themselves killed? and they've been watching him distrustfully ever since in case he has another outburst? did he used to be a higher rank and they demoted him because of shellshock or a lapse in ability because he just went silent after his trauma? did he ask to be demoted? has he really just stagnated at lance corporal? there's so much DEPTH there.
like i feel like someone can only be that... quiet and Given Up and distant if they’ve absolutely lost it at one point and then just accepted that there’s nothing they can do and crumpled into learned helplessness by the time we meet them. that’s my headcanon now: he lost it and was just unhinged and raging and screaming against the injustice of all his friends dying, and he was given an official warning and maybe demoted and eventually just faded into a silent nothing when he realised no one cared and no one would do anything and nothing would change. and now he’s been left with that incredible capacity for leadership, with all those skills, with all that caring, and nowhere for it to go)
#im here im queer im BACK FOR MORE BABEEEY#1917#mine#honestly that thing about leslie makes me so SAD#leslie does care!!!! he cares so much!!!!! he loves kilgour!!! he's just AFRAID AND DOESN'T BELIEVE IN HIMSELF#DOESN'T THINK HE#'S CAPABLE OF LEADING THEM#I LOVE HIM
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The Cost of Freedom
Pairing: Colt Kaneko x MC (Ellie)
Word Count: 3203
A/N:Surprise!! And happy Mona Day everyone! I hope you’re all enjoying RoDAW. I decided to get my ass in gear and finish this part so I could post it today in Mona’s honor. She’s finally free, y’all! This chapter was so much fun to write and I hope you all enjoy it! I’m still on vacation and can’t promise regular updates on this because finding a moment to write has been nearly impossible. I still have another week up here but hopefully I’ll be able to get back to normal soon. Thanks for being so patient with me these last several weeks. I really appreciate it and love you all! (Also please no one kill me for what’s about to happen to Colt. I’m sorry, I know I’m evil.)
Summary: The crew pulls off their biggest job yet and Mona finds her freedom. But someone else will pay a price for that and Ellie struggles with the guilt as a result.
Part Eight
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Ellie sat still in front of the computer for the first hour, working on autopilot as she watched the guards patrolling the route the crew had planned to Mona’s cell. Occasionally, she flipped back to the screen showing the raven-haired woman, dressed in the same nondescript orange jumpsuit as the other prisoners. If Mona knew Ellie was seeing her dressed like that, she’d probably swear her to secrecy out of embarrassment. Her friend never dressed less than her best and Ellie couldn’t help but feel another twinge of guilt at the sight. After two hours, she began pacing the office restlessly, fidgeting with the new ring she wore around her neck. At the very least, closing her eyes and picturing her impromptu wedding helped her to breathe a little easier. But by the third hour, nothing could calm the storm of butterflies in her stomach. Dread had settled in Ellie’s bones, confidence slowly waning with each passing hour. Then, as if sensing her thoughts even from miles away, Colt’s voice came through the earpiece in her ear. “Okay, Ellie. We’re coming up on the location. Are we clear to go in?”
Quickly, Ellie sat back down and flicked through several screens, stopping on the camera feed right outside their entry point. A guard was walking past the gate and her breath caught in her throat. “No. X, kill the headlights and slow down. There’s a guard walking past.” Eyes glued to the screen, Ellie felt her heart speed up, adrenaline slowly creeping into her veins. She watched the figure pace in front of the entrance as if hearing something. “Just wait.” Her voice was pinched and shaky.
“On it!” Toby chimed cheerfully in her ear. She heard the clicking of keys on a keyboard for a few moments and the guard lifted his walkie talkie, listening to a voice Ellie couldn’t hear, before walking away. “All set.” She could hear the grin in his voice. “I set an alarm off in one of the wards nearby, he’ll be gone a while.”
Finally able to breathe again, Ellie nodded to herself. “Okay, then open the gate Toby. You’re clear. X, the door is up ahead on your right. The floodlight above it is out so it’s nice and dark.” There were several tense minutes as Ellie watched the car pull up to the door she’d specified. Toby had the door open in a matter of seconds, keeping the right cameras on loop with Ellie pointing them out. Soon, Colt and Logan were crouching low as they navigated the grey halls. “Colt, there’s a guard down the next hall. She should walk away in a minute. Hold tight until I tell you.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Colt snorted softly and whispered into his earpiece on the other end. Married for two weeks and she was already telling him what to do. Not that she didn’t do that before, it was just somehow funnier to him now. He and Logan stopped, carefully peeking around the corner to see the aforementioned guard, back to them as she turned down another corridor. “All clear, Elle?”
Ellie agreed and watched as they switched down another hallway, getting steadily closer to Mona’s cell. “Take the stairs at the end of this hall. They should be clear for the next few minutes. Ximena are you and Toby at the pickup point?” Ellie asked, switching gears for a moment.
Ximena immediately chimed in, sounding only slightly worried. “Yeah, sweetie. Toby and I are clear of the cameras. Just waiting for your signal.”
Ellie took a deep, steadying breath and closed her eyes. So far, so good. With Toby and Ximena safe, she could focus on the boys. They were almost to Mona now, exiting the staircase and glancing around warily. “Toby, cut the cameras on Mona’s cellblock. This is it. Colt, Logan, her cell is nine down from you, on the right. The guard just left, you should have plenty of time.” Ellie chewed her nails nervously watching the boys on her screen.
In the prison, Colt led the way to the cell Ellie specified, Logan close behind checking their surroundings warily. “Toby you got that door for us?” Logan whispered into his earpiece. In answer, the door ahead of them clicked faintly. Colt pulled it open, still crouching low, and poked his head inside with a smirk.
“Nice place you got here, Mona. But I think it’s time for a move.” He nodded his head, gesturing to the hallway behind them. Mona just sat up, staring in shock for several moments. Logan cleared his throat nervously behind Colt. “We’re kind of on a schedule here. Pick your jaw up off the floor and come on. Elle, how’s it looking on your end?”
Ellie watched Mona flinch at the mention of her name, but refocused her attention to the perimeter cameras just in time to see two guards heading into the stairwell Colt and Logan had just exited moments ago. “Shit. Colt you need to get out of there. Go straight and take the staircase on the other end of the hall. X, change of plans. Meet them on the south side of the prison. Toby can you handle the door on that side of the building?”
As everyone scrambled to regroup, a stunned and strangely silent Mona followed the two boys out into the hallway. Logan handed her an extra earpiece from his pocket. “Wanna say hi?”
Taking it, Mona quickly slipped it into her ear and whispered angrily at Ellie. “I told you not to do this. You really don’t follow rules well, do you princess?” Despite the angry tone, Ellie could hear the teasing note in her voice. She would have laughed if she wasn’t so damned nervous.
“All of you shut up and get through that door. They’re getting close.” Ellie responded quickly, watching the guards reach the door and push it open. “Hurry!” The three of them jogged the last few steps and pulled the door open. Logan went first since he’d need to get into the driver’s seat, then Mona, Colt following last as he pulled a handgun from his waistband. Just in case. The door didn’t shut quick enough, the guards catching a glimpse of Colt’s leg just as they entered the room.
“Freeze, LAPD!” One of them shouted, drawing a gun in the blink of an eye and firing at the gap in the door. Colt felt the pain lance through his thigh and cursed loudly. Mona turned and saw the blood starting to bloom on his jeans. Back at the house, Ellie let out a choked whimper, throat closing up.
Panic set in as she watched Logan and Mona help him down the stairs as fast as they could. “Colt, oh my god.” She could barely think, the walls of the office closing in around her. This was what she’d been terrified would happen. Why they’d gotten married. There was so much blood on his pants, his face was twisted in pain but it seemed he could still walk with help.
Knowing she was undoubtedly losing her mind right now, Colt spoke up through gritted teeth. “Sweetheart, I’m fine. Focus. We need your help to get out of here or that might change. Okay?” Ellie nodded numbly, trying to steady her breathing before realizing he couldn’t see her.
“Okay...Okay. Toby, they need a distraction. Lock the door behind them and try to stall the guards.” The trio pushed through the door and into the night, Toby locking the door shortly after. The guards arrived seconds later and Ellie watched as they tried to kick it down, frustrated and stuck. “Thank god. Okay, Logan the car is on the street behind the gate on your left. Do you see it?”
On her screen, Ellie watched as Logan left Colt with Mona before taking off toward the gate. “Yeah. I see it.” Breathless, he hopped through the open window and into the driver’s seat. Soon after, Mona helped Colt into the back with Ximena and Toby before sliding into the passenger seat. No sooner had she shut the door, Logan was speeding off into the night.
Unsure of what to do after the crew had escaped police pursuit and shut their earpieces off, Ellie paced through the house. She busied herself setting up a first aid kit in her and Colt’s bedroom, which took about half an hour. Glancing at the clock, Ellie cursed softly to herself. They were still more than two hours away. After ten more minutes of twisting her hands and pacing a hole in the kitchen floor, she kicked a chair at the table, sending it crashing into the wall. This had gone so, so very wrong.
Ellie tried to focus on the good things they’d accomplished, Mona was safe, she was out, and now that she was out, the cops weren’t likely going to waste too many resources looking for one escaped car thief. They’d have to lay low out here in Fresno for a while longer to let the initial heat die down, but then they could go back to L.A. She and Colt could finally get their revenge on Hester, Jason, and Wallace. Ellie was so close to putting that horrible chapter behind her, she could almost taste it. But now, Colt was currently bleeding out in the back of her car, miles away, and she didn’t know if he was okay. The wound had looked bad, even on camera. The image of his blood soaking his pants leg made her nauseous. Lost in her thoughts, time started passing faster. She threw together some hamburgers on the stove for the others to eat once they got back.
Just as she was pulling the last one out of the pan, Logan burst through the backdoor supporting Colt between himself and Ximena. He was pale, too pale. Ellie dropped the spatula she was holding and ran over, taking over for Logan who gave her a sympathetic look. She smiled gratefully at him before she and Ximena led Colt to the back of the house. “I’ve got a first aid kit in our room.” Her voice was shaking from nerves and adrenaline. The only thing she could think about was stopping the bleeding. Looking down, she saw that Colt’s blood had soaked a large patch of his pants. “Shit, has it stopped bleeding since you left?” She asked.
Colt found his voice, but it was weak. “Nah, not really. But I think it’s only a slow bleed. Lucky they didn’t knick an artery.” He offered his wife a weak smile that she didn’t return. Soon they reached the room and laid him down on the old sheet spread over the bed. Mona had followed them in, dressed in the outfit Ellie had sent along for her to replace the jumpsuit and looking much more like herself. The three of them spent the next hour cleaning and patching Colt’s wound. He’d passed out soon after being laid down, the pain finally getting the better of him. Mona and Ximena had done most of the work, Ellie couldn’t calm her shaking hands enough so she’d stayed at Colt’s head, wiping his forehead with a damp cloth and feeling utterly useless. Once the danger had passed, the three women left the room quietly to let him sleep.
When they returned to the others, Logan immediately wrapped Ellie into a hug. “Ellie I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let that happen.” Of course he would blame himself. Ellie squeezed him once and pulled away, shaking her head.
“Logan, this isn’t your fault. It isn’t anyone’s fault. We all knew what could happen tonight. And Colt is going to be fine, so I’d really rather not play the blame game right now.” Toby hugged her next, patting her back gently before leading her over to the couch where she sat with a sigh. After a moment, she glanced up, eyes finding Mona where she stood to one side, looking around the room with an amused smirk. “Mona. This is technically my house, so casing the joint is kind of counterproductive.” Ellie teased, smiling a little. The tension in the room seemed to ease then, but an awkward silence fell over the group, no one daring to speak first after their ordeal.
Mona sighed and finally looked at Ellie. “So, not that I’m not grateful or anything, but are you all completely insane?” With the silence broken for the moment, the crew discussed the job, the plan, and Mona’s newfound freedom for several minutes. Everyone except Ellie, who sat silently on the couch, deep in thought. Finally, Mona sat down next to her and gave her a level look. “So now I know the how. But why, Ellie? I told you not to do this. I know you never listen, but…” She trailed off, glancing at the hallway where Colt’s room was before looking back at Ellie.
Ellie chewed her lip contemplatively, trying to find the words to explain how she’d ended up here. Her friends had helped her pull this off without pressing her for answers. It had now been eight months since Hester had shot her father. It was time to tell them the truth. “Look, I know you’re all wondering why I’m here. Why I asked you all to come back. But before I tell you, I need you to know that if any of you wants to back out now, I will understand. This doesn’t have to involve any of you.” They all stared at her silently, waiting for her to continue, and she took a deep breath. “I didn’t go to Langston because, eight months ago, Hester shot my dad. I was still in L.A trying to decide what I should do, I was stuck between college and the life I had here. But that decision was made for me. Colt and I...we’re to take them out. For good this time.”
On the other side of her, Ximena reached out and pulled Ellie into a sideways hug, rubbing her arm. “Oh, sweetie…” No one else spoke. Logan’s eyes were wide with shock, being the only one of them who’d actually met the man. Toby looked uncharacteristically angry, while Mona just stared at Ellie as if trying to understand what she’d just said.
“So...wait. You’re telling me you busted me out to help you take those assholes down?” Ellie nodded in response, unable to look at her friend. “And all of this,” She waved her hand in the air, gesturing to the crew. “Was your plan? Not Colt’s?”
A sudden noise came from the hall and every eye snapped in that direction to see Colt limping into the room. “That’s right. Elle came up with the whole thing.” He smiled at Ellie, looking tired but she could see the affection and pride in his eyes as he came closer. Ximena gave up her spot to him and helped him sit down.
Ellie immediately tensed, checking his bandages to make sure he wasn’t bleeding again. “Colt you should be resting.” Tears threatened to fall, she blinked hard to stop them and Colt took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “But...yes, this was my plan. Busting Mona out, getting you guys back in one place, it was me.” Her voice sounded small and shaky. She felt the weight of guilt settle on her. Maybe if she’d let Colt come up with the plan, he wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Maybe it was her fault. Colt noticed her expression but decided to save that particular conversation for later, in private.
His attention was drawn from Ellie as Toby stood up, clapping his hands together loudly. “Oooooo-kay. Well. I think we can all agree this mess can wait until tomorrow. Who wants drinks? We are celebrating after all.”
After they’d all had a few drinks, courtesy of Toby who set up a makeshift bar in the kitchen, the mood was much lighter. They all ate the hamburgers Ellie had made while she waited for them earlier. Colt sat with Ellie on the couch, one arm draped across her shoulders with a beer in his other hand. Getting shot was not part of their plans for that evening, but it made him even more grateful he’d let Ellie convince him to elope. This situation was exactly why they’d done this, and he’d never been more sure it was the right choice. Throughout the night, he’d glance over to see her fingering his class ring around her neck and for a moment, he didn’t feel the pain in his leg. She looked so happy, leaning against him as she sang along to the songs Ximena played out of the speakers with their friends. Colt knew she was still worried, still felt guilty, but she was trying not to be.
Tomorrow, several very long and intense conversations waited for them about the future of the crew, but he knew his future was sitting right beside him. Colt held Ellie tighter, rubbing her arm gently, which earned him a genuine smile, her first of the evening. He couldn’t look away from her, cheeks flushed from alcohol and eyes sparkling. She held a wine cooler in her hand, her third of the night, and Colt decided then he’d do anything to keep that smile on her face no matter what the rest of the crew decided. One by one, the others went to bed until Colt and Ellie sat alone in the living room. She was dozing against his shoulder, still pretty tipsy, and he nudged her gently. “Elle, look at me.”
Blinking the sleepiness out of her eyes, Ellie lifted her head to peer at Colt inquisitively. “Yeah?” He reached out and brushed some of her hair behind her ear, holding her gaze.
“I really am proud of you. You pulled this off. Pulled us all back together. So forget what happened tonight, forget what happens tomorrow, and just be proud of yourself. Okay?” Colt’s eyes searched hers, intense and almost pleading. He wanted to erase that pain he saw on her face at his words. Wanted her to know he didn’t blame her, that she was still his queen.
Ellie sighed and looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “Rationally, I do know that. I know I should be happy, but I just can’t help thinking… This was only the beginning. Even if the others agree to help us, we might not be able to see this through and seeing you get hurt tonight made me worried for what comes next.” Colt was silent for a moment, thinking over his words.
“Alright, it’s been a long day for both of us. Let’s go get some rest.” Ellie nodded slowly and stood, helping him off the couch. She tried not to flinch when Colt winced and gripped his leg, but he noticed. He put his arm around her shoulders, partially to steady himself and partially to steady her. They walked slowly back to the bedroom and Colt held Ellie against his chest, kissing her head. “Listen, whatever comes next, we’ll face it together. Just like we always do.”
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Tags: @poeticscolt @courtesan-of-garage @nazariortega @lovehugsandcandy @maxwellsquidsuit @brightpinkpeppercorn @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @postcardfromsomewhere @walkerduchess @zaira-oh-zaira @umiumichan @long-gone-girl @leelee10898 @client-327 @desiree-0816 @choicesarehard @liamzigmichael4ever @omgjasminesimone @emceesynonymroll @graceful-popcorn
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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card!
(Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled. Green deltas are for requested prompts.)
There is no better way to study a character than to stick them in a situation where they're all alone. No outside disturbance, that way! Hell yeah!
I've wanted to write one more of these "character has to survive" oneshots for a little while so I jumped on that occasion. Felix is a pretty fun character to try and a get a hold of. I suppose I've always liked edgy-ass guys.
Let's justify every instance of out-of-characterness in this oneshot with blood loss!
It’s longer than I expected it to be, tbh.
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Get Out Alive
Summary: He can't afford to die here.
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses (Post-Timeskip)
Wordcount: 1.8K words
Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo
AO3 version available here.
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A swooping motion of a fierce-looking, sharp-bladed axe.
A slight moment of inattention, given to another occurrence on the battlefield, misplaced worry.
A few droplets of crimson, shards of fabric, drops of sweat flow in the air along with the branches of the trees.
A move on the other side, of a sword, gets even more poured on the stomped grass.
A body collapses on the ground, another falls on its knee, a hand touching the stained soil.
And soon it crashes into a flow.
With heavy footsteps, the survivor rises to his feet, swaying. His fingers fumble with the edges of his soaked clothing, tips tinted in red, as he tries to examine the wound. It’s a deep slash, red all over from where his eyes can pry at it, and the stench would have overwhelmed him if he wasn’t so used to defeating enemies and watching their bodies empty themselves from their blood.
Then a wild thought as the world starts spinning: what if he stayed and defeated more enemies? He can’t leave the battlefield like a coward, can he? That’s not how he does it, he isn’t a fucking loser who’s afraid of dying, isn’t he? Death is nothing compared to the thrill of battle!
A familiar, firm voice calls out to him.
Felix, retreat!
The professor… No. Their leader. Their strategist, their commander on the battlefield. He has to obey their order, doesn’t he? Fuck this shit… Fuck this shit to Hell and back, he wants to continue fighting and do something that isn’t laying around doing jack shit, goddammit, don’t let him down like this!
Another voice, even more familiar, serious and severe, yet obviously concerned. Urgh.
Felix, you damn idiot, retreat before you get yourself killed!
It’s Ingrid’s, who is flying on her mount right over his head, a blurry image before she goes to spear an opponent about to slash his throat with the scooping motion of a rapier. Backed against a wall that doesn’t exist, he sheathes his dripping sword away, arm still pressed against the wound, and decides he’d be better off not getting harassed either.
His feet feel heavy, as if the light armour he wears got thicker and more constrictive since he’s put it on. Lethargy courses through his four limbs, one arm dropping by his side, weight pinching forward constantly. His balance is almost non-existent: he swings from one side to the other like an irregular pendulum, senses numbed and will to fight about to give up and in on him.
He resorts to using a corpse’s lance as a crutch, almost tripping on nothing as he kneels to get it. Disgraceful. Disgusting. That’s like showing the most weakness you can in one motion, in one decision. A fierce, proud swordsman like him shouldn’t have to rely on such cheap techniques to even make it out of the field without meeting his end. At best, he’s pathetic.
Despite the nausea taking a toll on him, he doesn’t taste bile coming up in the back of his throat.
Instead, he tastes iron. Bitter, filtered, liquid iron.
He’s become the picture of vulnerability and, as if knowing that wasn’t enough, everything in him constantly reminds him of that fact. Every noise seems so far away, the voices of his comrades like the sound of the lance he’s stolen, as if his ears were filled with fabric. His view is swimming more and more as he advances, hardly able to put a foot before the other without tripping, to the point he can soon only see blurry spots of colours and hear distorted sounds.
Dammit, this isn’t good… If his sight fails on him even further, he’s no better than dead in the eyes of anyone on this battlefield. He can’t waste precious time and resources on this, he’s got to get out of this mess on his own, and that’s only now that he realizes he’s afraid of death. Afraid of the eternal void, of the darkness of the everlasting slumber, and he doesn’t want it. Not now, not here. He still has things to do, things to partake in, and he can’t afford to meet his demise here.
He can’t afford to bleed out when he’s lost who-knows-how much of it already.
Speaking feels like it’d be a waste of energy, so he resolves to mentally motivating himself to the nearest healer. He has to find Mercedes, who wasn’t too far from him at the beginning, but it’s getting hard to distinguish anything in the sea of blur and vague. There’s no way to tell who is an ally and who is an enemy anymore and the screams roaring around him are nothing but a vast, undetermined, messy potpourri of noise. Talk about an environment to find your footing in.
A foot forward, then the other, then the lance… and he trips miserably on the ground, coughing against the grass, smelling the iron of fallen weapon and bodily fluids. It’s disgusting and repulsive, more than it has any right to be, and he gets nauseous to the point of almost fainting. Yet, fighting the world that keeps spinning to the point of being unrecognizable and the fluids that want to exit from his mouth and wounds, he gets up and continues, for once relieved that no fight is happening around him.
He won’t end up like Glenn, not today, not here, and not in those circumstances! That much he swears on his life!
(That’s ironic…)
His thoughts are on repeat. Don’t die. Don’t fall. Don’t falter. Don’t get distracted. Don’t engage a fight.
Don’t perish. Don’t trip. Don’t fail. Don’t get your attention somewhere else. Don’t start fighting someone.
Don’t lose your life. Don’t lose your footing. Don’t lose your composure. Don’t lose your focus. Don’t lose your reason because your honour got the best of you.
Don’t die, Felix. You can’t afford it, none of you can afford it.
The lance breaks between his fingers, tired of supporting his unbalanced weight to itself. His legs are about to give in, but his vision is dampening with black and he can’t find another corpse to steal from. Even in his darkest times, fate gives up in him and tells him to find somewhere else to go, to see if the green isn’t less red in that imaginary destination. The only land he’s getting promised here is the realm of the dead and he doesn’t want to be there.
He’s glad to be alive, thank you, and dying isn’t pleasing him.
Shivers wreck his frame from head to toes. He feels cold, so cold under the fur of his armour, so cold under the blazing heat of the sun that made him sweat barely minutes ago. Time is torturing him, making him think he’s going to die a moment, giving him back some vigour the next. He feels sick, but it’s no sickness that’s affecting him.
His legs end up giving in in the middle of the field. He tries to drag himself along the grass to make it to safety, to a healer, to something dammit; but his arms are too weak from supporting the rest against a glorified, broken stick, and can’t be expected to lift his weight once again. A glass canon he’s always been, a glass canon he’ll die as. That’s it.
This is the bitter end and it feels as unsatisfying as it could possibly have.
His eyes shut close and don’t open even when he begs them to. Vague echoes dance in his mind to taunt him –the sound of the living being alive and enjoying life— as he attempts one last time to rise to his knees. His bones have transformed into lead, everything is either too far or too soon. It sure is his end, (not the end, his end, that’s painfully obvious), and it’s an end he doesn’t want to see.
It’s dying in disgrace, dishonour and loneliness, surrounded by the enemy, not unlike what his brother must have gone through during the Tragedy. Fitting, but displeasing to say the least.
With nothing to see, touch or feel with, he’s stuck waiting for the finale, lying on his back, a lethargic end on the wound that’s going to cost him so, so much. Talk about a miserable defeat, unfit of his mastery. It could have been avoided too, if he hadn’t seen Sylvain almost getting wounded himself… In the end, you really are supposed to stand on your own and be independent, don’t you?
Yeah… That’s funny. Life’s funny. All he has left is to mentally laugh about how pathetic he must look like at the moment. It makes you like or hate it, and then plays around with you until you’re either tired of it or addicted to the feeling of being alive. It’s living for the sake of living until you die and realize how much you have left to do. If he dies today, he won’t ever get to see his house prosper after the death of both heirs. He won’t get to win against the professor he’s sworn to vanquish in a spar someday. He won’t get to see if Sylvain will calm down, if the boar prince (excuse him, Dimitri) will ever come back from the mental war, if his kingdom will win the war.
It’s funny that he cares about all of this so much now. Earlier, he was just busy trying to survive and retreat. It’s amusing in all the wrong meanings of the term.
Death is funny too if you twist it one way or the other, isn’t it?
An echo of a voice comes in his vague direction.
Felix!!
It feels like Annette’s voice, but he isn’t sure. It could be Mercedes or even Ingrid, considering how far he’s gone. Footsteps accompany it, until it seems like he’s getting held. It’s not like he can even see who it is to be sure about the identity of the person lifting him up from the ground.
Oh my Goddess, he’s bleeding out…!
The voice frets over herself, reminding his body to feel pain when it’s forgotten how to have anything going through it other than numbness and powerlessness. It’s a strangely welcome slight change, even if he grits his teeth and almost screams in a broken screech.
H-hang on, Felix, I’ll bring you to safety! Don’t die on me okay?!
He tries nodding. Must be the least reassuring sight ever, but fretting won’t be of use to anyone, so he just does it anyway. The warmth of this person is soothing, why not try to do something in exchange?
Funny that hope comes back when despair is settled.
#fire emblem#fire emblem three houses#felix hugo fraldarius#cw blood#bleeding#injury#bad things happen bingo#bthb 2
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If you lose your strength to stand (I”m gonna reach for your hand) pt. 12 “Enemies, and their Power”
Part 11
AO3 link
Being American, I reserve the right to make digs at the U.S.
--
Pidge took a deep gulp from her caffeinated fruit-tea (God bless Hunk, honestly). The hangar where Hunk, Lotor, and Allura worked on the quintessence ships was huge and had catwalks all along the walls. Pidge had hit dead end after dead end with tracking Haggar through the clone until she was absolutely ready to scream. Once she realized she was just staring at the wall instead of working, Pidge took her equipment from the Green hangar to perch on one of the catwalks.
Allura had just walked out to go to the bridge. She passed by Pidge’s perch close enough that Pidge overheard her conversation with Lance – those comm earrings were pretty loud.
Keith was such a fucking hypocrite.
Pidge had never quite forgotten the day that, over a year ago, Keith yelled at her for trying to leave Voltron and find her family. He’d hurled accusations at her like a firing squad. He’d called her selfish. That’d hit too close to home. She remembered his voice echoing in her head alongside the voices of school kids who’d said she was cold or weird or didn’t care about anyone but her robots. She didn’t get that expectation that she had to feel for strangers; it’s not like she had the time or energy to prioritize everyone in the world.
Of course Pidge had learned a lot since then. There was such a thing as caring without that visceral wrench in her stomach. She could understand and prioritize the good for people she didn’t know and love. There was such a thing as empathy without instinct.
But it wasn’t fair that Keith thought he could run away from the war he used to dive headfirst into. He’d been all invested when Shiro had been here, when he’d had his family. He shouldn’t talk about selfish.
Pidge hoped Lance would snap him out of whatever weird-ass funk this was. If she had to work despite her grief then so did Keith.
Meanwhile, the Shiro-clone was still in stasis. Presumably, if he was being monitored, manipulated, and controlled by Haggar, it would be through the mechanical arm. It’s probably not as efficient as having it hooked up directly to the brain, but Hunk was certain that access through the shoulder into the central nervous system was sufficient. Even with the change of scenery (which often helped her think) Pidge was about ready to throw her laptop at the wall, though, because no matter what she tried the arm software was a fucking dead end.
Actually, no, never the laptop no matter how angry or frustrated she got. That computer was her baby. She’d built it back on Earth and added a ton of Altean modifications to the hardware – including some incredibly impressive RAM that allowed her to multitask like a crazy person and put the computer’s original 64 GB to shame.
Pidge pulled up the clone’s medical records. The cryo-pod did a full body scan twice a varga and she’d linked the data to continuously upload to her laptop (thank you, alien random access memory), focusing on the CNS. And –
Okay, that was different. The original clone scans showed no distinction between those of the real Shiro, allowing for expected discrepancies on the cellular and molecular levels due to time passing. One of the things the pods monitored closely was an individual’s quintessence. She was no biologist, but Pidge did grasp the basic concepts of thermodynamics and the quintessence seemed to be deteriorating. She didn’t know what it meant, though.
A hefty creaking noise distracted her. Hunk pulled his way onto the catwalk and settled in beside her. “Pidge. Can I chew your ear for a minute?”
“Aren’t you busy?”
“Lotor went to make some, uh, conference calls, I think.”
Pidge glared at the computer screen and decided to fuck it, she’s not getting anywhere with this anyway. “Yeah, why not. Shoot.”
Hunk blew out a puff of air. “We’ve made a lot of progress on the technology. Allura’s been working on adapting the ships to travel between universes and I’m really close to finding the most efficient ways to collect and contain the energy. It’s just, um…what if we aren’t doing the right thing here, Pidge?”
She eyed him. “If we can end the war without more war, I’m all for it. I know I wasn’t on board at first, and I’m no economist, but this seems like a good way to stabilize the universe.”
“I’m just thinking. Humans and galra have one big thing in common: exhausting resources. Sure, the quintessence field seems endless now, but the same can be said for every single resource humans overexploited in history. We don’t know how this could affect the universe.” He was getting worked up.
“Hunk.” Pidge placed a hand on his wrist, knowing he takes comfort from even small touches. “You’re a huge part of this project. You and Allura can find a way to make this harvesting sustainable.”
He hummed. His bushy eyebrows drew together.
Pidge continued, “Is this really the only thing bugging you?”
“I’m not…convinced doing this harvesting will lead to peace. Like, I get why Lotor thinks this will solve things,” Hunk said in a low voice. “Increase supply, satisfy demand, spare bad harvesting practices etc. But what do the galra need all this quintessence for?”
“I don’t know, space ships? Power grids? Fuel?…Weapons?”
“Exactly. These guys have been conquering for thousands of years. How can we be sure they won’t just keep conquering when we hand over the power?”
Pidge massaged her temples. “I hear you Hunk, but I’m way out of my depth here. I’d rather trust that Allura and Lotor know way more about alien politics and economics than I do, you know, being born rulers and everything.”
“Since when did you trust Lotor?”
Pidge finally tore her eyes away from the screen and leaned in close to Hunk. “I trust Allura. Do you, do you think Lotor can pull the wool over her eyes?”
“Yeah, well, the man has only been a military strategist for several millennia, I think it’s probable.”
Pidge pulled up another window. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been keeping up with the news. Lotor is on the manhunt for any and all galra factions who don’t pledge loyalty to him. And most of the ones who have are extracting their control over recently conquered sectors. It’s a start.”
“How do you completely reform a culture that’s built on war and conquest?”
“Rome and America became republics, didn’t they?”
Hunk groaned and rubbed his eyes. “It’s so complicated. I wish I could just fix up these ships and that would automatically make everything okay.”
She patted his shoulder. “I know the feeling. I’m confused here, too. Look.”
“Aren’t those scans of the fake Shiro? Why…man I can’t read these, why’s the blue glowing in the middle getting dimmer in each picture?”
“It’s his quintessence. It’s deteriorating. But look, it didn’t start until after we put him in stasis, see? The readings are exactly the same between the scan of Shiro and the very first scan of the clone.”
Understanding lit up Hunk’s face. Good, good, thermodynamics were safe, comprehensible ground. “And that’s when the energy started wasting away. Nothing’s regenerating the quintessence. Pidge, Haggar’s magic!”
She banged her fist on the catwalk. The echoing clang make Hunk flinch. “Of course! I should’ve figured that out. If it doesn’t make sense, then magic.” She huffed a sigh. “But if there’s no magic connected to the clone then that means I can’t trace it. It’s another dead end.”
Hunk was quiet for a few minutes, while Pidge stewed in her failure.
"Although," Hunk said, "Zarkon was obsessed with quintessence for his own personal use. He's gone now and if we get rid of Haggar too, then the demand should go down significantly. She's our biggest threat right now and with so much of the military devoted to Lotor he should be able to keep the rogues in check, right?"
Pidge shut her laptop. "See, you figured it out. What do you need me for."
---
“So let me get this straight.”
It was first thing in the morning, and they were in the Blade-equivalent of a conference room with Krolia and Kolivan. Lance pressed his fingertips to his temple like he was trying to organize something in his head (except in Keith’s experience, that usually happened out loud).
Lance gestured to Krolia. “You were undercover at Ranveig’s base, where he intercepted mega-powerful quintessence and accidentally used it to create a terrifying robeast but without the robot parts. Which you both then sic-ed onto a different general attacking the base so you could escape and presumably that thing is still on the planet.
“And you’ve tracked the quintessence to its source but it’s guarded by impenetrable space-time anomalies and we don’t know who was shipping it.”
Keith said, “It does fit Haggar’s M.O.”
Lance sighed. “We should call the Castle of Lions and get them in on this meeting.”
--
Pidge just about leapt out of her skin (and did leap out of her bed) at the loud, insistent banging on her door. She tripped over something on her floor and narrowly avoided face-planting in a pile of dirty socks.
“Pidge! Pidge, wake up!”
Vision still kinda fuzzy from sleep, she scrambled to her feet to slam her hand against the door panel. It hissed open as Hunk prepared to pound on it again. Had he been any shorter he would have punched Pidge in the head, but as it was his fist met thin air and he had to windmill his arms to not fall on her.
“Hunk! What is it? What’s happening?” Pidge demanded.
“Whoa, hey chill out. There’s no emergency.”
She glared at him. “Did you just scare me awake for shits and giggles? Do you have any idea how loud it is when you bang on a metal surface?!”
Because he was the worst, Hunk flat-out ignored her tirade. “Your brother, Lance, and Keith want everyone on a conference call. We’ve been trying to wake you up for half an hour.”
Pidge took a deep breath in through her nose. Then let it out. “If you value our continued friendship, you will get me the largest canteen you can find and fill it to the brim with the not-coffee. And it better fucking be hot.”
It was hot, and she and everyone else were soon in front of multiple huge screens showing her brother, her missing teammates, Kolivan, and another galra she didn’t recognize. The first thing that happened was Keith held up a placating hand before Allura could lay into him.
“I know what you’re going to say, and I’m sorry for leaving without telling you guys why. I got overwhelmed and needed to do something. But it won’t happen again.”
Allura drummed her fingers irritably. “It better not.”
“And by something,” Lance interjected, “Keith here means he had to have some face time with his LONG LOST MOTHER. Guys, meet Krolia, Keith’s galra mom!”
Pidge choked mid-drink and spewed liquid all over Hunk. Fucking what????
“Pidge, did you just do an actual spit take?” Lance demanded, blatantly ignoring the irritated glare Keith was shooting him.
“Did you deliberately wait until I was taking a sip to say that?”
“Depends.”
“Okay, you two can flirt later,” Matt said. Lance’s entire face and neck flushed. “We have important news.”
They proceeded to explain the quintessence the super-powerful quintessence, the spacetime equivalent of a minefield they’d tracked it to, and their suspicions that Haggar was somehow mining it to fuel her military and her magic.
Pidge downed the rest of her “caffeine” in two gulps.
“We believe the source is behind the quantum abyss, rather than the abyss itself,” Kolivan was explaining. “If we can cut Haggar off from her major quintessence supply then we stand a far greater chance at permanently vanquishing her forces.”
Krolia spoke, “The tricky part is navigating the abyss. It requires precise calculations and the consequences of being trapped inside would be dire.”
“Hunk, Pidge, think you can work through those calculations?” Keith asked.
They responded with a synchronous “probably.” Pidge thanked God she now had a new project to work on. One more day with the stupid clone arm and she was gonna lose her hair.
“I believe I know where that quintessence is coming from.” Lotor’s cool voice silenced the entire room. Pidge noticed with shock that his face had gone paper-white. He looked like the ghost of a general rather than a living emperor.
“It is a place I have not been to in some time."
Part 13
#plance#pidgance#flirtyrobot#slowburn#hunk#keith#allura#lotor#krolia#lance#pidge#katie holt#kolivan#vld#voltron#voltron legendary defender#vld fix it#fix it fic#haggar#canon divergence#katt#matt holt#keith kogane
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i hate being an ~experienced~ enough player that i feel like i gotta do nightmare mode in raids but not ~experienced~ enough to have a 20-22k might fire team so i’m stuck in the kiddie pool of death running with pubs
#;i built xuan zang a 5 star lance to meet the minimum overall str recommendation#;i've got ~7k strength total & ~5k of that comes from xuan zang & mikoto with euden & vanessa padding with their stun res#;i COULD get to 20k maybe if i got everyones MC up to 45-50 but honestly??? i dont want to??? i dont have that much#;& i wanna save my water for favorites#;bad enough i wasted resources on a fire lance#;aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh i'm giving up for now maybe i'll do it later#;i havent rlly been playing this raid very much at all i'm ver behind for grinding lakjdfasd#;at least this raid boss does seem easier than sabnock on nightmare its just a matter of getting the dps to#;destroy those danged orbs before death rains#;rlly gotta do dailies more often so i actually have the mats to build units/weapons when i need them
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Hi! I found you through the BTHB tumblr, and liked the way you write! If it’s okay, can I ask for one of your squares? It would be “Cradling Someone in Their Arms” with Hunk and Pidge, but it’s Pidge trying to cradle a heavily injured Hunk in her arms while they wait for rescue and feeling guilty because she isn’t able to carry him to safety herself. Would that be okay?
Um, would it be okay? No, it would be wonderful! What a fun prompt, I hope I filled it to your liking. Thanks for playing bingo with me!
(VLD) Space: Cradling Someone in Their Arms
AO3
“I’m not sure why Allura wants me to hack here,” Pidge mutters, squinting as her rudimentary translator converts the holographic characters into messages she can make decent enough sense of. “It’s mostly about the exports. The fruit exports.”
Hunk shrugs, absently readjusting his grip on his bayard. “The more recon we have, the better.”
“Mm, I guess. Still seems kinda weird though, just reading about shipping fruit. And not like, blueprints for weapons of mass destruction or battleships or something.”
“I don’t think it’s that weird,” Hunk says. “Look at Earth’s history, tons of places were colonized for the exploitation of their food resources, including fruit.”
“True,” Pidge admits, fingers deftly dancing over the keypad.
“And those export reports are probably going to lead us to our next destination.”
“Also true,” she agrees, sighing. “I just wish our assignment was more exciting. Everybody else is kicking butt right now, taking over the command center. And we’re just here downloading transport records.”
“Are you kidding?” Hunk scoffs. “This is a great change of pace! I for one, am tired of being shot at, running into traps, and getting motion sickness flying around laser puke fired by giant planet eating monsters.”
Pidge rolls her eyes. While she doesn’t exactly enjoy any of the things he’s just described, per se, it doesn’t make looking over fruit exports any less boring. When they get back to the castle Lance is probably going to be bragging about how he did this cool thing or that cool thing, or gushing about some badass thing Allura got to do. While she…now knows the Galra character for ‘citrus.’
“I am gonna go do a quick patrol of the perimeter,” he says.
“And leaving your super important post as my bodyguard?” Pidge mumbles, briefly glancing over.
Surely Hunk picks up on the sarcasm, but he answers earnestly.
“Making sure nobody’s sneaking up on us is part of guarding. I’ll be fast.”
Hunk slips from the room and Pidge returns her attention to the screen. Yeah, okay, so this stuff is useful on some level or another. But her eyes are glazing over and she can’t help but feel that fighting with her team would be more useful. Definitely more interesting. This wasn’t even a challenge to hack.
Her comms link gives a soft click, and Shiro’s voice comes through.
“Pidge, status update.”
“Good news is, I could crack this database in my sleep. Bad news is, these reports are putting me to sleep. How are things on your end?”
She hears a crash and loud curse from Keith in the background.
“I’ll get back to you.” Shiro clicks off.
Pidge chews her lower lip. About half the files are downloaded now, hopefully it shouldn’t be too much longer before she and Hunk can regroup with the rest of the team. Maybe actually get in on some of the action.
She’s barely completed the thought when she hears the unmistakable firing of a blaster. For a heartbeat she thinks Shiro’s clicked back in, but it’s followed by a yell that is unmistakably Hunk. She wastes no time springing out of the chair and hurrying into the hall.
Pidge sprints toward the echoes of Hunk’s bayard. She materializes her own mid-stride, zapping at a probe that looks like an upgraded Rover before it can lock onto her. She doesn’t stop to reprogram this one, tearing toward the continued noises of combat up ahead.
The violet lit corridor curves and Pidge swerves to avoid the scraps of a blasted sentry. It’s a small patrol, led by a Galra in standard armor. The intact sentry takes aim at her and Pidge drops, somersaulting forward. Surging up, she jabs her bayard into its torso and zaps, currents crackling audibly.
It crashes to the floor and as she whips around, her breath catches. Hunk fires his bayard at the same time the soldier throws this blinking disk no bigger than a sand dollar. The soldier goes down, but the disk hits its mark, snapping to Hunk’s cuirass with a metallic clink.
It immediately begins blinking faster, emitting a shrill series of beeps.
They both realize it’s a detonator at the same time, locking gazes.
“GETITOFF!” Pidge shrieks, so panicked it sounds like one big, messed up word.
And Hunk tries but he’s not fast enough, and the last Pidge sees of him before it goes off with an earsplitting peal is the nakedly terrified look on his face. It’s a look that floods her with cold and she will never, ever forget it. If she survives this war and sixty years down the line develops dementia, the helpless horror in Hunk’s eyes will be the last memory to haunt her.
Hunk is blown back far, so far, and hits the metal floor with a thud that makes the lunch lurch up her throat. Pidge scrambles over in a mad dash, throwing herself down beside him. The sight of the damage is just as nauseating and Pidge has to choke back a gag, clamping a hand around her mouth.
From waist up, Hunk doesn’t really have a suit anymore. Just a few ripped scraps of black fabric. His entire torso is a mess of shrapnel and fragments of shattered armor. As frightening as that is, at least they’re keeping some of the blood inside.
A gaping wound in the center of his chest gushes like a geyser, so deep Pidge could plunge both hands in and touch the pulp. Its inside looks like a sliced pomegranate, all nubbly and viscerally crimson. With a very quiet groan, Hunk lifts his head.
And Pidge gasps, heart skipping as she cups his face, charily positioning her hands to avoid the shards embedded in his cheeks.
“You’re alive, oh, thank goodness you’re alive! Hunk, we gotta get you out of here! C-Can you stand?”
Hunk blinks at her blearily, headband absorbing most of the blood from a scalp wound she can’t quite see because of his hair, but a few droplets seep through it and catch in his eyelashes.
“Dn’t catch that, Pidge, m’ears are still ringing.”
And she notices that those too have red streaming from them. Damn it, the blast probably ruptured his eardrums.
“You need help!” she nearly shouts. “Can you stand up?”
Hunk blinks at her again, a vague look of confusion passing over his features.
“Think something ’sploded,” he slurs without acknowledging her at all, eyes fluttering closed again.
“No, no, no! Hunk, stay with me!”
But he wasn’t entirely with her to begin with and easily slips back out. Pidge gently lowers his head and tries to formulate a plan. Hunk is still bleeding copiously and those are just the injuries she can see. There’s probably a ton of damage on the inside too, he needs a pod as soon as possible.
Green isn’t far from here. She blends in well with the dense forestry of fruit trees and berry bushes that cover this planet. Dragging Hunk to Green would be faster than trying to explain what happened to her teammates and directing them back here.
Pidge removes her own cuirass and tears the padded lining out of it. With shaky fingers, she packs it into Hunk’s chest wound. Pressing down, she chews her lip and watches as it absorbs the blood. Before moving him anywhere, at the very least, she needs to stanch this bleeding.
“I can carry you,” she says aloud, hoping to make it true as the lining soaks beneath her hands. “Green isn’t far and we’ve all been working out, right? This is fine.”
Pidge removes her belt next and rips the lining out of that, folding it over top the first layer and pushing down with all her weight. Hunk twitches a bit beneath her, mewls out a soft, hurt sound without opening his eyes.
When his bleeding seems under control, she lets go and clicks back into her comm link.
“Something happened,” she announces quickly. “Hunk’s hurt bad and he needs a pod like, yesterday.”
“How responsive is he?” Shiro asks, concerned but collected.
“He talked incoherently for like two seconds before he passed out. He can’t wait, I’m gonna carry him to Green and head back to the castle.”
“You think you can carry Hunk?” Keith asks skeptically.
“If people can flip cars during adrenaline rushes, then I can carry Hunk,” she snaps, more frazzled than she intends. “It’s not like I have to vault him over my head, I just have to get him to Green, and I mean, I really have to you guys, he— he’s not doing good.”
“We’re almost done here and even if we weren’t, this takes precedence,” Allura says quickly. “Lance, Keith, finish up. Pidge, do what you can for Hunk, Shiro and I are on our way to help.”
“Copy.” Pidge doesn’t wait for anybody else’s affirmatives before she turns her attention back on Hunk.
She tries not to think too hard about things like logic or physics as she hooks her arms under his. Either Hunk’s clavicle is broken or he’s dislocated a shoulder, because she can feel the unnatural way his arm shifts. When she looks down she thinks she can see a bulge that doesn’t belong there too.
“Okay, here we go.”
Pidge digs her heels in and pulls back with everything she’s got. She begs her body to gift her with one of those rare, miraculous adrenaline rushes that allows everyday people to flip cars off children. She doesn’t need to flip a car, she doesn’t even need to carry Hunk, really, she just needs to drag him.
“Come on,” she pleads, desperately trying to pull even harder.
It takes an enormous effort and all of Pidge’s strength to drag him three steps backward and even that leaves her spine aching. She grits her teeth and uses every muscle in her body to pull him another step and doesn’t even accomplish that. She slips, falling hard on her bum and losing her grip on Hunk.
It’s just impossible.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpers, shaking her head against the sting of tears. “Hunk, I’m so, so sorry.”
She can’t carry him anywhere. But maybe she can hold him, at least, and monitor him. Guard him until Shiro and Allura get here.
Pidge sits up, gently takes Hunk’s head in her hands, crossing her legs. She pulls him into her lap as much as she can, which, while a bit difficult, is far less taxing than dragging him. She cradles his head against her chest, worriedly fluffing her fingers through his hair.
“I’m sorry,” she repeats, even though she knows he can’t hear her. “If this were the other way around, you’d already have me in Yellow.”
She has her bayard near in case any new threat shows up. She doubts it, since it seems like the rest of her team handled things at the command center. That soldier Hunk shot still hasn’t moved. Maybe he’s dead and that’s perfectly okay with her.
“I should’ve been satisfied with boring,” she mumbles, guilt churning in her stomach.
Pidge would rather read a thousand stupid fruit export reports than be sitting here like this, listening to Hunk’s breath get shorter and shallower and too weak to get him the help he needs. She hates this, the helplessness. She hates that she couldn’t force an adrenaline miracle out of herself.
Guilt continues to gnaw at her insides. She knows it’s not her fault that she is small and Hunk is big, but it feels like her fault when it’s the obstacle preventing him from receiving treatment right now. The pad of her finger unintentionally locates the head wound she couldn’t see earlier, brushing over the split in the skin.
Anxiety mounting, Pidge begins to rock back and forth, hugging Hunk close. She quits as soon as she hears the grinding noise that rises from what must be his probably broken clavicle. She goes back to stroking his hair instead, staring at the dicey rise and fall of his bloodied chest.
When Shiro and Allura finally show up, it feels like eons later.
“I couldn’t carry him,” Pidge admits as they survey the damage, her guilt coiling even tighter around her chest.
Of course, neither of them seem even remotely surprised. They probably realized what she should have sooner, that it simply wasn’t a feasible feat no matter how badly she wanted it to be.
“We’ll get him back faster in Red than Green anyway,” Allura says, forcing a smile although Pidge can tell she’s worried.
Shiro helps arrange Hunk in Allura’s arms, positioning him a way that’s hopefully the least stressful on his injuries. Allura doesn’t need help with the actual lifting, however. She simply shape shifts to be broader, lengthens her arms to accommodate Hunk’s girth.
Pidge recovers Hunk’s bayard and the drive with the export transcripts. She wishes she could at least be with Hunk, cradling him in the back of Red. But she has her own lion to fly. Hunk will probably be safer in Allura’s arms since her magic has healing properties.
Or at the least, revitalizing properties. And that distinction sinks to her stomach like a stone.
Lance usually gets the first hug when Hunk is out of the pod, but this time Pidge beats him to the punch and she kind of thinks he lets her. It hasn’t exactly been a secret that she’s been on edge since what happened. She hurries to Hunk so fast she barely pumps the breaks in time to avoid an outright collision, throwing her arms around his middle and squeezing ferociously.
“Whoa,” he murmurs hazily. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she greets warmly, propping her chin on his belly and peeking up at him. “It’s good to have you back.”
A small, sort of sleepy smile unfurls on Hunk’s face.
“Good to be back,” he says, gently patting her head.
#badthingshappenbingo#bad things happen bingo#whump#pidge gunderson#hunk vld#platonic hidge#blood tw#injury tw
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Watching Voltron Season 7
This summarizes my feelings on the season quite nicely.
I’m trying something different this time around. Instead of reviewing the season as a whole -something I might do later anyway- I decided to provide written commentary on each and every episode as I watched it. The quality of the comments will vary and you probably shouldn’t take them all too seriously (especially if you really liked this season). If it looks like I’m giving Season 7 a hard time, it’s probably because I am, but know it comes from a place of love (maybe). Having said that, I have to warn you that: a) I’ve not provided context for all of my comments, you’ll just have to figure out what I’m talking about at times (fairly easy, particularly if you’re watching the episode at the same time); and b) there are lots and lots of spoilers!
So, sit back, relax, and let’s watch Season 7 of Voltron: Legendary Defender, shall we?
Episode 1: A Little Adventure
Keith and Shiro’s story should’ve been shown earlier than S7. It might’ve helped me like Keith a little more. It’s a great flashback, but it feels a little rushed.
The humor is not really funny and it doesn’t gel well with the more solemn story of Shiro lying in a coma fighting for his life.
Pidge decides to check his comms at a completely random moment.
Okay, the “literal bait” bit was funny.
Episode 2: The Road Home
They let Lance decide passenger arrangements?
Mice-selfies!
The passsenger arrangements was a funny bit. Thankfully, it didn’t overstay its welcome.
Did everyone have to explore the Blade facility? Nobody thought of staying with the lions just in case?
“We’re under attack.” Read above.
The wolf is deciding the arrangements now. I’m okay with that.
You can’t defeat a few fighters without forming Voltron? Wouldn’t that be more energy-taxing than firing lasers?
“We run.” Why didn’t you do that in the first place?!
Hunk. My man!
Episode 3: The Way Forward
Why are we back to goofy Lance?
“We’re destined for greatness.” Yeah, right. Wouldn’t be surprised if one of you kicks the bucket before the end of the episode.
Baddie is terrible at interrogation. Your prisoners have just answered your question.
Coran’s antics are not funny.
Bayards can teleport, huh? Would’ve been nice to use that trick in the cell.
Yup, they’re dead.
Eh, three-year time lapse. No biggie.
Episode 4: The Feud!
This isn’t funny or interesting, just boring. Sorry, I’m skipping this one.
Okay, that closing music is the best thing of this episode. Of course, bear in mind I skipped to the ending.
Episode 5: The Ruins
Seinfeld? Why are we wasting time like this?
Remember what happened the last time we deviated from our voyage?
Hunk gets it.
Yes, abandon the lions… again.
That reveal was way too fast. The guy’s story was more interesting than this.
Isn’t Lance supposed to have a broadsword?
So you had the Voltron team escape the force field so they’d be incapacitated by Macidus... again. What was the point?
I was kinda hoping Keith would say, “It’s okay, I’m used to it.”
Episode 6: The Journey Within
I’m still not sure how going to Earth is gonna help them replace the Castle of Lions.
Their Paladin armour protected them but the lions are frozen? I’m thinking too much.
Hunk’s already softening the blow for the Paladins getting replaced?
Well, this is riveting stuff. And I’d still have this episode over all the previous ones.
I doubt people would react this way but who knows. Keith is back to being an asshole. Just as I was warming up to him.
Well, I guess we couldn’t have an episode without something trying to kill the Paladins.
That speech feels a little out of place now, Keith. Just a tiny bit.
Guess they have energy now?
New configuration. I dig it.
And about damn time too.
I was expecting more from an episode with this title.
Episodes 7 & 8: The Last Stand, Parts 1 & 2
Okay, I may be nitpicking, but couldn’t we have left the flashback for the reunion?
Sanda seems reasonable, for now anyway.
This episode is picking up the slack from the previous ones. Nice.
It surrounds us, it penetrates us, it binds the galaxy together.
Okay, if I were a guy at this briefing, I’d have a hard time believing any of this.
I see good points on both sides here. Compromise: why not inform a few governments and start from there, similarly to what they did on Stargate SG-1. Broadcasting this to the whole wide world without a plan seems terribly irresponsible.
Voltron’s own Area 51. Cool!
Are these guys going to be the new Paladins? I sure hope not.
In all this time you didn’t even contact a single government? Are there even governments in this world? It’s not about emotion, it’s about resources, dammit!
If getting kicked out of the garrison was your biggest concern, I say go for it.
“The cat’s out of the bag now.” My thoughts exactly.
Whoa, I guess it’s true what they say, everyone wants to rule the world.
I’m pretty sure what you wanted to say was that there are mass riots and widespread panic out there, right?
I’m sure glad everyone else in the world has that nice and shiny particle barrier.
Oops, guess they didn’t.
Why the f*** is Sanda so stubborn?! We tried it your way and everyone died. Surely we can’t do any worse than that?
Every other place that didn’t have your shiny new tech got wasted, no kidding.
Sam really wants to rule the world, doesn’t he?
Yes, he does, he’s just gonna wait for the lions to show up. Doesn’t take a genius.
I can’t believe I’m saying this but, so far, the best episode of this season hasn’t featured the Paladins or Voltron.
Meet Veronica, the new Black Paladin.
Why reveal your presence like that?
Query. They designed weapons that are effective against Galra ships but not against Galra troops? Seems like an oversight.
Don’t worry, they’re not about to kill a badass character off like that.
Told you so.
Okay, I’m slightly more willing to read about what happened on Earth while the Paladins were away in comic book form. Slightly.
Oh, Lance’s sister. Hot.
I’m not sure that… Well, what do you know, it worked.
The next episode, Keith, the next episode.
Episode 9: Know Your Enemy
How exactly are you blocking- You know what? Forget it.
And that’s how the Paladins were killed! Kidding.
Introducing New Keith 1.0.
That door seems like a weak point.
Confirmed: Pidge can fly.
New Keith 1.0 is jealous of Keith 2.0. The plot thickens.
I had completely forgotten about Adam. Way to go killing him off like that. Couldn’t you have featured him in a couple more episodes at least? As it stands, he was entirely superfluous.
New Keith 1.0 is even more of an asshole than Keith 1.0. Someone punch him for me, please.
Sanda has been unusually quiet. I don’t like that.
Space Battleship Yama- I mean, Atlas!
Seriously, handing over the lions at this point would be dumb beyond measure. It merely leaves you at the mercy of the Galra who’ll backstab you at the earliest opportunity. Why are we even discussing this? Are we really going to make Sanda a baddie now?
“We need intelligence and we just don’t have it.” She’s absolutely right, just not in the way she thinks.
What was that? New Keith 1.0 went from being a jerk to a more or less decent guy in less than an episode? What’s going on here?
Hunk couldn’t rescue his parents. I’m surprised this show was that bold.
Episode 10: Heart of the Lion
I don’t understand any of what just went down. So an Earth power source makes an Earth prosthetic go berserk but an Altean one won’t? Are there evil power sources in this universe now?
Also, that arm’s missing a half. Just saying.
Admiral Sanda’s back to her senses. Good.
Yes, call your brother an idiot for showing concern. That’ll show him!
A tiny nitpick: why not use the wolf to teleport around?
Confirmed: New Keith 1.0 is no longer a jerk.
Teamwork!
Allurance moment. I ship it.
That scene with Pidge and Keith.
Zai-what?
Damn, Sanda’s all about the problems, isn’t she? How about a solution every once in a while?
How did they do that again?
It’s a bit of a gamble but it’s better than sitting around and doing nothing.
That Tenzin moment!
Lance 1.0 would’ve boasted about it. Just saying.
Um, why is Red not responding?
Great visuals, great music, great scene.
Drama! To be continued… or maybe not.
Those troops are terrible shots.
Cut it with your sword, cut it with your sword!
Or that works too. Were we holding back Red just for the sake of drama?
That was… awfully fast of the Galra.
Oh, no, don’t you tell me that... For f***’s sake, that was idiotic! You’re helping the guy who has built planet killers instead of the people trying to take them down?!
No formation sequence and music? This doesn’t bode well.
Can energy beams be bended like- Ah, forget it.
Personally, I would’ve cut off the episode at the blast, maybe even the season. Kills all suspense otherwise.
Episode 11: Trial by Fire
This marks the second time the lions get captured this season.
“We made a deal!” Famous last words. My eyes are rolling.
The bad guys are leaving. I wonder why? #sarcasm
The main villain lied to you? No way! This must be a mistake! Also #sarcasm
To kill everyone I presume.
Bingo.
We only now remember we have a crystal than can act as a power source?
Magic.
Um, why is everyone looking at Shiro like that? Just roll with it.
Now, if the Atlas were destroyed right now, that would be funny! I have a wicked sense of humor.
“Take them out.” A little late for that.
Ah, the redeeming arc begins! I foresee someone dying.
The ship “gained abilities”? I’m just gonna say it: magic.
Just kill her. I mean, she’s gonna die anyway. It’s that kind of arc.
Told you so.
Episodes 12 & 13: Lions’ Pride, Parts 1 & 2
Voltron formation music is back but with less punch.
Voltron’s finally kicking ass!
Why are we surprised that Sendak is going to destroy Earth?
I don’t mean to be rude, but that’s a (relatively) stationary cannon, and they probably don’t have enough mirrors up in space to track all of Voltron’s movements. Voltron shouldn’t have any problem dodging those blasts.
So Sendak’s willing to destroy his own ships to get Voltron? I’m game! Let’s rush from cruiser to cruiser! At least they’ll provide temporary cover.
They’re letting the Paladins move around the mirrors untouched?
Why not reflect the beams back at the cannons? Just a thought.
“Commander, they’re deflecting the beams.” Um, send someone to take the lions out? It’s not like you’re short on ships.
Why not simply blow up the crystal? You did bring explosives with you, didn’t you?
“Victory or death.” Why not simply transfer command to another ship?
I’m just going to pretend I didn’t see you on the hull of that ship, Shiro.
MORTAL KOMBAT!!!
That was a surprisingly smooth landing, all things considered.
Death it is.
Another Allurance moment.
Okay, why is this Part 1 again? Looks like everything was rounded up nicely.
Looks like I spoke too soon.
You’re overdoing it.
Ah, for the love of... Another mega-robot?!
I’m with Allura, this season should’ve ended in the previous episode or at episode 10.
I don’t know what the Komar is. I skimmed through previous seasons.
What happened to “we can recharge Voltron ourselves”?
Really? Somehow this robot is more powerful than anything we’ve ever seen? My eyes are rolling again.
Magic returns to save the day.
You’ve got to be kidding me, you built a ship that can somehow turn into a giant robot and you didn’t know?!
Okay, no, stop, this is beyond ridiculous now.
Weren’t there civilians around?
I seem to recall saying you were overdoing it. We’re way past that point now.
Why not return to Earth as soon as you’ve pushed that thing into space? I forgot, drama.
If they die, I’ll take everything back.
Lions still there so they didn’t.
Nice speech. Not feeling it though.
I’m saying it right now, Season 8 should jump forward in time several years.
Acxa! I had forgotten all about you. Seriously, when did we drop you?
Lotor’s been a very naughty boy. So much for time skip. It really was the way to go after this season.
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Two Birds. One Stone.
Hey guys! I know I haven’t made a lot of content since 50% Off! ended but as a few of you may know, I’m a pretty big Destiny fan. So if you enjoy my work, Destiny, or self indulgent fan-fiction then why not read this small story. If you like it let me know! I love praise. If not! Don’t tell me! Don’t be mean on the internet!
I felt the soil give beneath my feet as I marched along the surface. If you haven't been to the moon, everyone says the exact same thing after their first few steps. ‘It feels just like snow!’ Due to Earth's exploration and technology, and of course the Hive digging in roots there, the gravity is basically the same as Earth's but it still has no atmosphere. Your armor regulates your heat, air, and the sound is muted but you can feel the vibrations of things. You can feel the sound. Feel your footsteps sink. See the prints you leave behind, just like the snow in the EDZ. I’ve been to the moon plenty of times, the novelty has worn off. The heavy crunch after crunch after crunch was really starting to irritate me. Slogging my way across some Lunar tundra was exhausting. Us Exos get tired just like organics. Seems kind of stupid when you think about it. Why build a race of war machines and have them get winded? I don’t know. What I did know is that I was there for a job. A handoff. Supposedly easy. Actually annoying. At least after the job I could scope out some of the Hellmouth. Two birds, one stone. I hate handoffs and my contact was acting dodgy already. She asked to meet close to the Hellmouth, told me not to ride up with my sparrow, disable my ghost, and of course to come alone. I figured that's just how this sort of thing worked. When you're moving a lot of glimmer underneath Vanguard radar, you'd probably not want to get caught, so why take any risks right? I still had a bad feeling. If I had known Lance then he would have said, "You always have a bad feeling, it's your default setting." I made my way to what looked like the nearest structure, the glimmer pack strapped to my back and under my cloak so if a drone saw me they'd just think I was some lost guardian. After checking the outside perimeter for anyone I didn't know, I made my way inside the large half collapsed dome of a building and saw her standing in the center.
"Mushov." I said, my hand settling on my hip, closer to my gun. The woman stood up, adorned in a Titan's imposing armor, but Mushov was no vanguard Titan. She was a hand for hire. An awoken with a chip on her shoulder against the tower and a kill count to make her enough of a threat for them to notice. Her armor clattered as she moved. Trinkets and bones. Streaks of war paint. Anything to intimidate an opponent. Her helmet bearing broken horns, a destroyed symbol of the Redjacks that cast her out. "Rex!" she said jovially, her voice bursting through my coms. "It's so good to see you again!" the Titan laughed and approached me lifting her hand to shake. I flinched. A mistake. Even through her helmet I knew she caught it. She had the upper hand.
"Mushov... Robin-5 couldn't have sent anyone smarter? Or is she running so low on resources that she has to hire idiots like you and degenerates like me." I asked. I was trying to act like I wasn't afraid, but I knew I was. In close quarters Mushov had every advantage. She laughed. She wasn't afraid. She knew I knew that. Her hand came down hard on my shoulder and she squeezed tightly through my armor.
"Ohh... Rex, you've been wiped so many times you're starting to forget your manners. Robin-5 knows that sometimes you don't outwit an enemy, you just overpower them." I felt that smug grin of hers burn through her visor straight into mine. "You got the money?" she asked casually, finally letting go of my shoulder. "Of course." I said, reaching up behind my back to grab the pack. Mushov didn't flinch. I undid the magnetic lock and pulled the pack out to hold in front of her. "It's all there. You can count it." She laughed again. "Boy, you really are new at this. Nobody counts. Because everybody knows if it's not enough, they'll take the rest out of you." Mushov snatched the pack from my hand and popped it on her back the same way. "What's it for?" I asked. Stupid.
"For this."
She wound back, and like a freight loader her fist crashed into the side of my helmet, rocking me to the ground. I hit the surface so hard I bounced slightly before my visor met lunar soil. I heard her boot crunch by my head and felt her hand wrap around my ankle. "Wh--" I started to ask but the awoken drover her knee into the back of my leg, further and further down until I heard a break. Exos don't have bones. It's an Exo-skeleton. Hence the name. We're durable. Harder to put down than your average Human and Awoken. That’s why they built us. Everything has a limit tough. I've broken a leg before, and I can tell you it’s a million times worse when someone breaks it for you. I could tell that Mushov was gonna drag this out. Sadist. She wanted me to suffer. I couldn't give her any more than she had, so I swallowed the pain and asked again, wavering. "Wh-why?" She laughed, standing back up, her hand still wrapped around my ankle so she could drag me out into the open. Idiot. If only I had kept my ghost online or my sparrow nearby. Stupid. That wouldn’t have done anything. She would have known. She would have shot me dead if I walked up and she knew. Idiot.
"Oh Rex, you know why. You've been doing jobs in Ro's outlier sectors. Costing her money. That's not very polite of you." I winced down another spark of pain when she turned me over. Two more goons were waiting outside. Must have transmatted in. A Titan and a Warlock. Standing there. Waiting to confirm the kill. Robin-5 is thorough. A meticulous asshole. The Titan looked new. I hadn't seen him before. Clad in red and white, he looked like he stepped out of a New Monarchy recruitment ad. And that Warlock? One of the Osiris freaks. Birds all over his armor. When you really stop and think about it, every last one of us is weird looking. They stood quietly. Recruits. Watching and learning. "So what... I came all the way to Luna to deliver you a p-paycheck and you get to kill me? Two birds one stone?" I asked, struggling to keep my wits about me. "One bird. One stone." she said, holding up a finger. "You're a good shot Rex, probably the best. But you're blind." Mushov laughed again. It was starting to irritate me. She took the glimmer off her back and held it up in her off hand. "Yes this is a paycheck. To kill you." I groaned. It came together finally. "So I came all the way to the moon, to pay you to kill me." Another laugh. Mushov pulled her sidearm from her belt and crouched down to press it to my helmet. "There it is." She tapped my visor with the gun. "I get to kill you. I get a nice paycheck. And these two... let's call them interns... get to see what happens to the ones who cross Ro." she said, a grim seriousness overtaking her tone. She was going to kill me. No remorse. Leave me for dead on the moon and if anyone found me they'd chock it up to the hive.
The Hive have something called 'Sword Logic' that dictates that the strong are the only ones who deserve to live and the weak die out. That's just the nature of things. The universe is constantly churning towards one apex being, weeding out the unworthy through death and conquest. I still think they might be right. "Any last words?" she asked, pushing the barrel of the gun down so my helmet sunk a bit into the crust of the Moon. "I'm gonna kill you..." I growled. "I doubt it." she said, as a matter of fact. Mushov began to pull, but like a streak something hit her and the flash of the gun went off in my face. The pain was unimaginable. My optics were blinded with white hot light and my audio sensors were ringing. Every bodily alarm was firing and with good reason. I had just been shot. I could feel it. Arc energy is the worst. It doesn't just hurt the spot that's hit, it lights up everything around it with pain alarms. Like being struck by lightning over and over. I guess that’s the point. Mushov wasn't on me anymore. Whatever hit her must have hit her hard enough to knock her off of me.
My vision started to come back in fits and starts. I was panicking, quickly trying to figure out what was going on. I winced, my hand shooting up to grab my neck. She shot me in the neck. That giant asshole. It grazed me but I knew my voxbox was shot. I saw Mushov to my right, 15 feet away, collapsed in a pile. Something had hit her hard. I spun to my left. My vision blurry I thought I saw that titan in the red and white was grappling with the Warlock. The dull thuds of fists against armor were unmistakable as they traded blows. In these quarters it's a crapshoot. You can try to back up to get in firefight distance but odds are your opponent is just going to shoot you first. I pounded a fist to the ground, I needed to stand, I was wasting time. I was out numbered. The titan stepped in on the warlock and rung his bell with a solid right cross. The warlock spun back, grasping for his gun but the titan just looked back at me and raise his hand to give me the ‘Ok’ symbol. I had no clue what was going on. The warlock drew his gun. Not smart. The titan put both hands out and raised a glowing bubble around him, the forcefield shoving the warlock back.
I heard someone cough. Mushov left her com channel open and she was starting to get up. I needed to get up first. I tried to find my feet under me, but it was a struggle, I felt like my whole body was on fire and screaming for me to fall back down. I rose up and dropped again. You know, in all the chaos and being shot in the neck I had forgotten that my leg was broken. This was a painful reminder. I could hardly put weight on it so I shifted to my other foot and limped towards Mushov. She shook her head, trying to get back her senses I assume, and then saw me making my way over. She reached out for her sidearm. I drew fast and fired, hitting the ground near her gun. The heavy weight of my handcannon felt as good as always, bringing me back around in its own odd way. However my optics were still junked and I was on one leg. I was aiming for her hand. I tried to speak but what came out sounded more like a bark of static. The Exo equivalent of a cough. Mushov wasn't moving. Quiet. Like me, she didn’t want to give her assailant the satisfaction of seeing her pain. She was planning. I fired. This time hitting her leg. I wanted to hit her chest. She gasped, placing a hand quickly down on her leg for pressure. Mostly just to dull the pain and stop the blood inside the suit. Exos can survive without atmosphere but most armor sets have self sealing suits that bind up when there's a breach. The fibers spin back together immediately to maintain the pressure in the suit. I shot again, this time the shoulder. I was aiming for the head. I lifted a hand to knock on my helmet, trying to rattle my optics back into alignment.
Mushov finally groaned in pain, but she didn't lower her head while I made my limp approach. I tried to speak again. "M-Mushovvv-v..." I stuttered out, my voice cracked and hissing like a broken speaker from a pre-golden age vehicle. A miracle I could even speak after a shot point blank to the voxbox. Mushov laughed and tried to stand, but I pressed the barrel of my hand cannon to her helmet. "Hahahha... It doesn't matter if you kill me here Rex. Ro will find you in whatever rat's nest you crawl into. She'll find you and she'll kill you." Mushov threatened through the pain. Good last words. Mine were better. Mine were true. "I-I doubt it-t-t." I uttered, squeezing the trigger. My handcannon clicked and in a flash the back of Mushov's helmet exploded into a mist of broken armor and blood. Her body slumped into the crust of the ground and I finally exhaled, dropping too my knee. I mean, I didn’t exhale. I dont breathe. I just kind of let go like an exhale. I wonder why we think like that. The first Exos were humans. Maybe it’s just leftover. My optics were fading again. I was dipping in and out but I heard the telltale crunch of boots advancing on me. With a quick but sloppy turn, I raised my cannon to the figure. It was that titan. Behind him was the warlock with his head shoved into the ground. He wasn’t moving. I still don't know if he was dead. The Titan raised both hands in defense and spoke. "Woah woah! Calm down trigger!" His voice was electronic. Another exo. My hand was wavering, through the pain I could hardly keep myself up. "Ghost run a diagnostic." he said, lowering both hands. The titan's ghost materialized to hover around me for a scan, I would have shot but I knew I'd be wasting a bullet with my aim at the moment even at such a close range. The ghost returned to the titan and he removed his helmet.
He looked tough. Most have been a frontline model. Built for fighting head on. Frontliners always came back as titans. You’d never see a unit like me pop back to life just to don shoulder pads like that. His paint job was crimson red but from the paint chipping around his left optic I could tell he must have taken a hit there. Looked like solar damage. He spoke, "You're pretty wounded. We should get you out of here. Robin-5's goons are gonna notice Mushov and that other guy's vitals off their maps and send a receiving party." I groaned, trying to stand again, lifting my gun back up as best as I could. "Who the f-fuck are-e you..." I asked through my broken box. The titan placed both hands on his hips. "Is that the attitude you should have for the guy who just saved your life? You'd look like that if I hadn't come.” he said pointing to Mushov. “Y’know. Just smaller.” He laughed.
My hand lifted and I cocked my gun. "Who-o the fuck are y-you?!" I barked out again as best as I could. The titan's hands shot up again. "Okay! Okay! My name is Lance-14! Like Saint-14! I work for the tower right now. I came for Mushov but you were my secondary objective." He said stepping forward. I shot at his feet. I was aiming for his leg. "Stop it!" He stopped and shouted. All I could do was groan out a spill of agony and static, I couldn't stay up, I couldn’t aim my cannon. My brain was screaming at my body not to fall but I collapsed to the ground in defiance of my survival instinct. "I d-don't work.... fo-fo-for the tow-w-wer-r... why..." I struggled to even ask, but Lance didn't miss a beat. He was over in an instant, tucking under my arm to hoist me up to one foot and start walking. I couldn't fight.
I hung limp from him, barely able to keep on my supporting foot. "Don't black out on me now. I don't have the drive codes to Mushov's ship so I'm gonna need to use yours to get us home." That idiot smiled. I huffed out a sharp noise, my hand lifting to my neck to press on my wound. Lance seethed. "Yeesh, I'm sorry. If I had been quicker she wouldn't have junked your voxbox. It's crazy you can still talk." I stopped limping, hitting his armor with a hand to signal him to stop. "W-wait..." I choked out another harsh mess of crackling audio and pointed to Mushov. "Th-the money. Get-t the m-m-money... you id-idiot-t..." Lance blinked, thinking for a moment. "Right! The money! Duh!" he said in that obnoxiously cheery tone, turning us around to retrieve the money from Mushov's corpse, taking care not to drop me while he did. Lance placed the pack of glimmer on his back. "So... Your ship?" he asked and I pointed to the ridge where I had landed. "Why... d-did the tower... c-come... for me." I asked, feeling like I was going to finally give out. Lance grinned. "Well actually I came for Mushov. But they knew you'd be here too." I groaned and tried to push off of him. "So I-I'm under arrest-st?" I seethed, but Lance just laughed. "Nope. We're here to hire you for a job Rex-8. Interested?" I stopped pushing. At least I wasn't going to end up in jail. "Do I-I-I have much of a ch-cho-choice?" I asked, the sound of our boots crunching in the Lunar crust below us. "I doubt it!" Lance laughed again. It started to irritate me.
--End
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they're all cowboys for some reason
(This was so much fun to write. I might continue it.Thanks for the prompt.)
Pidge rubs a little dirt on her face before stepping out of the bushes. She holds her gun up in a light grip, one barely tight enough to keep it from falling out of her hand, in a sign of surrender.
In front of her, Lance is bleeding out on the sand, and Shiro has a gun to his head. The Galra smiles, and claps, as if she were performing a trick for his entertainment. “Good, good. I’m sure Lord Zarkon will be pleased to hear that we’ve managed to deal with the menance that has been disruptin’ his business. Now just slide the gun over, and we’ll get this over with.”
His muscle, three white men with bored expressions, watch her carefully as she lowers the gun to the sand. They watch her so intently, they don’t notice Keith and Hunk aiming their guns from the roof of the town’s canteen. Hunk offers her a thumbs up as she straightens up, and she immediately drops back down to the sand. The sun is so bright, it’s hard to see, but the dirt under her eyes help to deflect some of it, giving her a chance to watch as the Galra falls to the ground, a new hole through his skull.
Shiro takes advantage of the confusion to knock away the gun. He headbutts him, and topples him to the ground. Shiro rips the rope tying together his hands, and pummels him into the ground. Lance is still out for the count, and is pretty much defenseless against the other muscle’s attack. One attempts to drag him to their carriage, while the other fires at Hunk and Keith, who are either pinned down, or headed downstairs to join the fight.
Pidge stands up, and grabs her gun from the ground. She dashes across the sand, and fires twice, both shots going wide. It does manage to get the Galra muscle’s attention. He drops Lance onto the sand, and turns. He fires twice, and while one shot does manage to graze her shoulder, he’s relatively unsuccessful. She turns, and fires another volley. Her aim is on point this time, and he falls to the ground, clutching his stomach.
Behind her, the battle has grown silent.
She lifts Lance upright and leans him against the back of the carriage. Shiro walks beside her, his hand resting on the one replaced by the Galra. “Nice work, Pidge.”She nods in acknowledgement.
Shiro turns back to the group. Keith and Hunk are running up to meet them. Hunk steps over the bodies carefully, while Keith makes a point to kick them as he walks by. Pidge knows that it makes Shiro uncomfortable to watch Keith disrespect the dead like that, but he doesn’t bother to speak out about something so small.
“We’re gonna take Lance back to Allura before heading out again. He needs to be healed before we try to fully secure the town.” Shiro says, helping Pidge to lift Lance into the carriage. It’s much fancier than what they’re used to; probably has less bounce than their rickety wagon, which’ll help Lance from waking up before they get back. She winces at the thought of him being conscious, and able to feel the burns and cuts that cover his body.
They had thought that Bridgetown was safe. It seemed too far out of the way for the Galra to bother; after all, they were focused soley on profit and monopolizing the growing west. Wasting resources to go here was stupid. It was likely that the group had tracked Voltron there, and decided to try their luck. Some luck they had, she thinks, eyes drifting over the newly made corpses.
“Keith and Hunk, you take the wagon back. Pidge and I will ride with Lance.” Shiro orders. Hunk and Keith nod, and start walking back to town to get their horses.
Pidge climbs in beside Lance, as Shiro sits in front to drive.
Voltron: meaning spirit warrior. It was a word from the Altean tribe, a title given to them by Allura. She and Coran were the last of their tribe, one of the last Native peoples in this side of the country. Pidge had never much believed in magic, like a good Christian girl’s supposed to, but she had no other word to describe what they could do. Allura could change her appearance at will, and they possesed the ability to heal wounds at an impossible rate. Lucky for them, she supposed. If they had to wait and heal like normal people did, they’d never be able to resist against the Galra.
Somewhere down the line, Pidge falls asleep and wakes up inside the Castle of Lions. The castle is big, much too big for the seven of them, but Pidge has slowly started to think of it as home. Her bed, or rather, the Altean equivalent, is warm, and she hesitates to leave it. But this mission was supposed to be an inteliigence gathering mission, and they might have some info on the whereabouts of her father and brother.
They had disappeared over a year ago, on a expedition to the furthermost coast to map out the best paths, to and back to the eastern coast. Shiro had been a part of the expedition, but had escaped whatever fate her family had been left to. Of course, he had not escaped without a toll. His arm had been cut off, and replaced with a steam powered contraption that moved like a human hand did. Even though it was an amazing replacement, Shiro hated it. He hated having to supply it with more water, or having to clean the gears that kept it running. Pidge had taken it upon herself to complete these tasks, before anyone else awoke.
Pidge slides out of bed, and pulls on her boots. She always sleeps in her pants (she’s learned to after Allura fell in love with midnight drills.), and her chest bindings, so all she has to do is pull on her shirt and holster before leaving her room. Outside, the halls are still quiet. Lance and Hunk are late sleepers, and while Keith is a fellow early riser, he spends these quiet hours training.
She slips down the hall and into the kitchen, where Shiro and Allura are sitting. Shiro shovels food into his mouth mechanically, as Allura chats animatedly about something or other. Pidge walks in quietly and grabs the cleaning kit from the shelf. She brings it to the table, and gently lifts Shiro’s arm from his lap and onto the table. He nods in acknowledgement, and continues to listen to Allura’s tale.
“…and then Krotor, he fired through the waterfall, and hit the krobosh right in the heart. He would’ve won my hand in marriage then, if I hadn’t have fired after him, right through his arrow.” She beams, and Shiro smiles back. It’s rare to see Shiro smile, and Pidge is glad that Allura can still cause him to.
She pulls a gear from his elbow, and cleans it off before regreasing it and replacing it. She repeats the process for the next joint, and then for his shoulder. When she’s done, she grabs the kettle from over the fire and pours the fire into the spout. His arm responds with a hiss and crackle, Pidge smiles smugly at the finished task and stands, just as the others walk into the kitchen.
“I was going to cook the coshbar this morning.” Coran complains, at the sight of the prepared pot.
Allura smiles apologetically. “I was feeling bored this morning. I haven’t tried my hand at cooking in a while.”
Hunk and Lance exchange excited looks. While Coran is very nice, his food is very bad. At least, it is in comparison to Hunk or Allura’s cooking. They sit down and start to shovel the gruel into their mouths as if it’s their last meal. Shiro slides a bowl in front of Pidge and she nods her thanks before digging in. As everyone starts to eat, Shiro drops his relaxed demeanor and drops an envelope onto the table.
“The document we took yesterday alludes to a forced work camp near the coast. There’s a chance that we could find the Holts there, but we won’t know for sure until we check it out.” He pulls a map from the envelope and spreads it out on the table. He points to several locations on the map. “We’ll hit these on the way there. Each one is either a Galra comtrolled town or a work camp, filled with natives. We’ll get this one today.” He points to one that’s near a two day ride from the Castle.Lance frowns with a mouth full of gruel. Specs of it fly out fly out as he complains. “But we just got back!”
Keith wrinkles his nose. “Eat with your mouth closed.”
Lance stuffs another spoonful into his mouth. “I’ll do what I wanna, Keith!”
Keith winces more strongly, and glares at him, before sliding his bowl closer to Hunk.
“Be nice.” Shiro warns, as he brings his bowl back to the counter.
It’s close to noon when they leave camp, and Pidge resents the sun that beats heavily on her back. If she didn’t care about the inevitable sunburn, she’d take her shirt off; the heat is so stifling. However, she knows that she’s got this shift until three, so she resists.
In the carriage she drives, she can hear Lance and Keith fighting. She can’t hear much more than their raised voices, but she finds herself smiling anyways. She wishes that they’d just get together, however indecent the idea may be. She knows that Eastern society would never allow it, but out here in the uncontrollable west, no one would know any better. Just like how no one knew that she was a girl.
Well, outsiders anyway. She had told the members of Voltron a month or two ago, and while Lance had been surprised, the others had figured it out. Shiro had known first. Shiro had recalled the sister that Matt had talked about, and it wasn’t hard to connect the dots. After all, with her hair cut short, she looked almost identical to her brother. Outsiders, like those that they rescued, often assumed that she was male.
The fact that she was a girl didn’t defer her from wanting to take her shirt off. She sighed, and continued to drive. She slowed the horses down as a canyon loomed before them. It’s high walls were daunting, and she couldn’t help but think of all the places to hide and wait for an opportunity for an ambush.
“What’s the hold up?” Lance says, his head sticking out of the small conversation window. The last time he did that, he got his head stuck and it took them an hour to get him out.
She points at the looming canyon walls. “I’m not sure that it’s a good idea. Too many places to hide out, and too many opportunities for ambush.”
Keith yells from inside the cabin. “Get yer fat head back into the damn carriage before you get stuck again.”
Lance pulls his head back, as Shiro rides up beside her. “If we go around it, it adds another day to the ride that we just can’t afford. We’ll just have to be careful.”Pidge nods, and pulls the reigns. The horses start trotting again, and Pidge only keeps half of her attention on steering. The rest of her mind is focused on the walls, and the caves that spot them. They’re halfway through when she lets her guard down. She can see the other side when Keith calls to switch. She climbs out of the seat and stumbles onto the ground. Her legs are asleep, and she decides to walk around the carriage once or twice before getting in to wake them up.
Keith doesn’t get in the driver’s seat right away either. He walks over to Shiro, and says something that she doesn’t hear.
That’s when it all went to hell.
All she can hear is gunfire. Loud and echoing, it seemsto come from everywhere. She’s lost at first, unable to tell where it’s coming from. She finally snaps out of her trance, and runs back to the relative cover of the cart. She pulls her gun from her holster, and looks at the walls across from her. She can just barely see the sun, reflecting off of the barrel of a gun. It’s too large to be owned by a regular civilian; it’s either Galra or military, and seeing as she’s never seen military this far out, she knows it’s Galra.
She fires, and she can’t tell if she hit her mark. The tell-tale reflection is gone, and there is too much gunfire for her to tell if he’s gone. She looks for another, and is focusing so hard, she doesn’t notice the Galra until he’s right on top of her. She takes the brunt of his hit in her back, and for a moment, she can’t even breathe. The stun wears off, just as the Galra is aiming his gun at her, and she rolls out of the way. Pidge aims her gun at him, and fires. It hits his shoulder instead of his head, but he falls nonetheless. She doesn’t want to waste the bullet on an already incapicitated enemy, but it’s another Galra that decides for her.
A bullet flies past her ear, and she swears that she can smell her hair burning.
She turns, and fires, her bullet just missing Keith, whose knife has just crossed the Galra’s neck who had in turn just fired at her. She shoots him an apologetic look before ducking down again. Lance dashes to the side of her, his chest heaving with every breath he takes.
“Cover me. I’ll try to get across to that alcove and cover you from there.” He says before running away. She barely had time to adjust her gun before the first Galra tries to attack.
She shoots one, the bullet going through his throat and into the rock behind him. The second turns and fires at her, realizing that since she’s stationary, she’s an easier target. He thought wrong. She fires and her aim is true. It leaves a hole through his skull.
The battle is over as aruptly as it began.
Gunfire slowly dies out, and they slowly drift back to the carriages to regroup.
“That was fun.” Keith mutters, a hand pressing against a cut on his arm.
Lance runs up beside him, sporting a bloodstain on his thigh and left shoulder. “No kidding.”
Shiro’s arm is steaming, a sure sign of it’s overuse, and Hunk is glaring at the damaged carriage, like it’s to blame for it’s own destruction. Sure, she thinks, she may have just almost died, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
#voltron#voltron legendary defender#pidge gunderson#lance voltron#voltron shiro#voltron allura#hunk volron#cowboy au#voltron fanfiction#vld
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Realms of Arkania: The Long and Winding Road
Taking a mountain trail between two cities.
I spent most of this session wandering the sea lanes, trails, riverways, and mountain passes between various towns, on what has become a clear quest to collect various map pieces and other bits of intelligence about Hyggelik’s resting place. In its outdoor explorations, the map recalls Curse of the Azure Bonds, where you had fixed travel routes between towns (some of them interesting, some of them boring) which you selected and watched your party move on its own, and upon which various events could divert the party for a while. I gather that Arkania offers a mix of fixed and random encounters whereas Curse‘s were mostly fixed.
Arkania‘s encounters tend towards the type of text-driven interface that I complained about in Tunnels & Trolls (and did not, perhaps paradoxically, complain about in Darklands). There have been a couple of occasions in which my progress along the road was broken by the discovery of a cave or dungeon, but most of the time I’ve been asked to read a few paragraphs and select my options from a list. I won’t know until later in the game whether I think it used text for too many encounters, as Trolls did, or whether it achieves a better balance.
The game offers a lot of these textual encounters as you cross the map.
One of the things I like about Arkania‘s system is the palpable tension that these encounters engender thanks to the limited saving system. As we’ve covered, the game docks every character 50 experience points when you save outside of a temple, and in between towns there are limited opportunities to even take advantage of that penalty. When you haven’t saved since the last temple an hour ago, you’re a lot more careful in your choices. You start to sweat some of the skill- and attributed-based challenges, as well as (of course) the combats. When I was writing about Camelot, I forgot to discuss the delightful sense of fear the game imparts when you’re exploring a level or two above your head. Arkania evokes some of those same feelings.
Combat has gotten a little easier as I understand the tactics better, as I leveled up, and as I poured spell points into the “Fulminictus” offensive spell. I concede to my readers who argued that the keyboard interface works well once you get used to it, although I still don’t see any excuse for not mapping each distinct action to a unique key, nor for the inability to attack on the diagonal, nor for the way that the arrow keys work differently depending on whether you’re moving or attacking. I’m also having a unique-to-me colorblindness problem where I find it hard to distinguish party members from enemies (especially when they’re standing in a cluster) or even see the thin outlining on the floor tile when it’s selected.
Fighting some goblins. The battle wasn’t too hard, but it’s hard for me to distinguish what’s happening in that blob of characters and enemies.
But the worse problem is that combats are just too frigging long. Enemies and characters should both hit and damage each other more often. Even in the rare cases in which the outcome is a foregone conclusion and I use “computer controlled combat,” I mostly just sit there and watch for a quarter of an hour as the characters and enemies bang against each other to no avail.
I confess that I have been a bit spell-lazy. The spell system in Arkania is one of the more complicated ones that we’ve seen, with virtually no overlap with, say, Dungeons and Dragons. In fact, the creators of The Dark Eye system seem to have deliberately created as opposite a system as possible. Making things worse, the manual is extremely sparse in this area and doesn’t describe the effects of the spells. (Yes, I know there are external resources.) There are 12 spell categories (e.g., “Combat,” “Demonology,” “Movement,” “Illusion”) and four spell “lore” categories (magician, elf, druid, and witch), and about 80 total spells. It isn’t as simple as druids are good at “Demonology” and magicians are good at “Combat.” Rather, within the “Demonology” category, druids specialize in “Banish Spirits” and “Conjure Spirits,” magicians specialize in “Blood and Furor, Deadly Fate” and “Heptagon and Eye of Toad,” and witches and warlocks specialize in “Summon Crows.”
But theoretically any spellcasting character can cast any spell, if they put the points into it. Every character has an individual rating with each spell that can be increased during level-ups. The manual suggests that if a spell isn’t in your “lore” category, it can’t be used in combat, but I know that’s not true because everyone seems capable of casting “Ignifaxus Lance of Fire” in combat and that’s a magician-specific spell.
A lot of spell names are impenetrable: “Solididrid’s Rainbow Hue,” “Witch’s Knot,” “Odem Arcanum Sensum Such.” The game manual encourages you to “experiment,” but here we run into the final issue: spellcasters are nerfed more in Arkania than any RPG I can remember. Even at Level 3, I can cast maybe three spells per combat before my characters are out of spell points. And spell points regenerate much more slowly than hit points–only 2 or 3 per night’s rest. Spellcasters need to be melee fighters, too, to pull their weight. Because of all of this, I’ve only been slowly experimenting with new spells, spending most of my points on “Ignifaxus Lance of Fire,” which I know does its job.
Fighting a druid, harpies, and direwolves. Bramele is nominally an elf, but her magic has almost run out, so now she needs to be a fighter.
Most of my characters have leveled up twice now, which is an interesting and long process. First, you get to increase one of your “good” attributes by 1. Then you get to try to decrease one of your “bad” attributes (avarice, acrophobia, etc.) by one. None of the bad attributes have been much of a bother yet, so I’ve just been decreasing the highest ones. It fails about 50% of the time. The game then randomly rolls for boosts to your magic resistance, health, and magic points.
My dwarf tries to take the edge off his natural greed.
Then you get to assign about 20 skill points to your various skills, but there are a lot of restrictions. It seems that each weapon skill can only be advanced once per level-up (very annoying) and most other skills can only be advanced twice. I’ve been using the process to make each character stronger at his strengths rather than trying to improve his weaknesses, but even under that philosophy you end up sinking extra points into questionable skills like “Carouse” and “Train Animals.” Attempting to increase a skill fails about 33% of the time and it’s always annoying when it does.
Magic-users also go through a phase where they get 20 or 30 points to advance their various spells, but again the same rules are in effect by which you can only increase each spell by 2 points per level-up, no matter how low it is to start. Some spellcasters–or maybe just one; I don’t feel like checking the manual–have the ability to swap skill boosts for spell boosts or vice versa.
My elf gets better at a combat spell. Notice how poorly she takes to the warlock’s “Terror Boom.”
Failing your increases is so frustrating, and the random rolls for health and mana increases are so variable, that there would normally be a huge incentive to save-scum the process. In practice, that would be really hard. You’re prompted to level-up as soon as you cross the experience point threshold, so you’d have to save before the battle that gave you the experience in the first place, then fight it again with no guarantee that you’d do better the second time. Thus, I’ve just been accepting what happens. I do generally like the process and feel that the characters are getting notably stronger.
A nice reward for the druid battle.
I have been disappointed in my progress when it comes to weapons and armor. This seems to be one of those “realistic” RPGs where once you’ve purchased your base items, they don’t change much unless something breaks. In 10 hours of play, I’ve only had a few item “upgrades.” I wasted time chasing a tavern lead that “this Tulamidian in Overhtorn, Kherim Al Sherammi, only stocks the finest quality [weapons and armor],” but I didn’t find anything spectacular when I visited his shop.
There’s a “survivalist” element to exploration that I have mixed feelings about. Very often, I’m faced with an encounter that requires some kind of skill or attribute check and/or some kind of inventory check. For instance, we reach a cliff face that’s climbable if every party member has a rope or sufficient skill in “Climbing.” Or we’re sneaking up on a party of enemies and can either trust our “Sneak” skill or the “Silentium” spell. Or we’re crossing a high rope bridge and someone misses an acrophobia check and begins to freak out; we can either blindfold him or cast “Bambaladam” to make him trust us long enough to lead him across.
Climbing a cliff face. Either my skill or my rope is responsible for my success.
These occasional inventory checks have made me paranoid about what I’m not carrying. I have some ropes, a couple of pry bars, a hammer, and blankets and extra shoes for each character. But the general store sells fishing hooks, climbing hooks, drinking horns, recorders, cutlery, flasks, shovels, nets, throwing hooks, oil, mirrors, rope ladders, quills, scrolls, hoes, and dishes among other things. Do I really need to load up with all of these possibilities? Even worse, I suspect every character needs some of these things for action to be viable.
Which of these many items do I need to buy?
There are a couple infuriating parts of this skill/spell/inventory check system during encounters. First, the game often asks me who will do something without giving me any ability to check and remind myself who has the highest skill or spell level in a particular area. I can barely remember who’s what class, let alone who has the highest skill in “Camouflage.” Second, the game often requires the lead character to have the necessary skill or item. That’s not a huge problem (although it’s still annoying) when you’re in town or a dungeon and you can easily re-arrange the characters. But you can’t change the order of characters on the road. This led to a ridiculous situation in which the slain Gorah left a locked treasure chest behind, but I wasn’t able to open it because the character who had lockpicks (and lockpicking skill) wasn’t in the lead. I had to abandon the chest and go all the way back to the nearest town to swap the party order and then go back to Gorah’s lair, spending about 5 days in the process. At least the chest was still there.
In contrast, it has not been a big issue (so far) to manage hunger and thirst. A good meal at an inn or tavern refills both meters and lasts for a couple of days. Only a few trips have taken longer than that, and a few backpack rations easily manage the remainder. The game keeps giving me opportunities to hunt for dinner, but I haven’t really had to explore that option yet. Perhaps later there will be more extended wilderness trips.
Camp options at night. I’ve never needed to “replenish stocks.”
I had ended the last session in Felsteyn, which was at the head of its river. My furthest-north lead was in Vidsand, so I thought I’d go there and then make my way back south. The path out of Felsteyn led through the mountains to Orkanger. On the way, I ran into problems. A fixed encounter has the party find the corpse of a traveler slain by brigands. On his body, they find a document.
A fixed encounter between two cities.
While they search, a group of brigands attacks. There are options to flee and bargain, but they didn’t work well for me. I found myself in an inevitable and difficult combat. When it was over, it was followed immediately by another combat. Then (before you’ve had a chance to save or even read the document), the game has you stumble upon the brigand camp. Yes, you have an option to sneak away, but it just doesn’t feel right.
The resulting brigand battle in the narrow mountain pass.
I know that my obstinacy isn’t the game’s fault, but the end result is that I beat myself against it until I finally won those three combats in a row, which took more than half of this session’s length. The final victory led to my first round of level-ups.
As for the document, it said:
The unicorn knows many ways to help you. He can even recover lost items, if he himself believes them to be of importance. In doing so, he is faster than the wind.
(This led me to a mental digression about unicorns, because they seem prominent in German games specifically. I didn’t actually research the matter, but I thought of the various ways that unicorns have been portrayed in media, and it made me think that in Anglo culture, we’ve basically infantilized them, making them delicate, fey creatures voiced in lilting, worried tones by Mia Farrow, whose horns are a combination between hood ornaments and magic wands–whereas portrayals in continental culture seem to retain unicorns as, first and foremost, horses, with horse strength and horse appetites–carnal beasts whose horns are metaphorically penises and practically lances. Am I on to anything or is it just selective memory?)
The game grew a bit insidious at this point, having me next encounter a cave. I know now that I could have continued on to Orkanger, saved at a temple, and then turned around to go back and explore the cave. But at the time, I thought it might be a non-repeatable encounter, so I checked it out. It led me to a small dungeon map with several random and fixed battles with goblins, who thankfully aren’t that hard. Still, I started to get nervous about how long it had been since the last temple, so I sucked up the 50-experience point loss and I saved. Thank the gods. Moments later, the party was torn apart by some “giant stagga” (they look like giant ants) and I had to reload. I avoided that combat–I hate not being able to fully clear an area–looted the goblin’s treasure, and returned to the road.
This is not the sort of option you want to see when you’ve won three battles in a row and haven’t saved in an hour.
Backpacks bursting, we arrived in Orkanger to find that the small town had no weapons shop. But the inn was welcome, and there was a temple to save. We continued on the trail to Clanegh, which also had the same paucity of retail. We finally found a weapons shop and unloaded ourselves in Tyldon. From there, we followed the road to the coastal town of Vidsand.
In Vidsand, we met Ragna Firunjasdotter, who after some conversation showed us her piece of the map to Hyggelik’s tomb. She wouldn’t give us the piece, just show it to us. So later, when we got a third piece, Ragna’s piece did not appear on the resulting map image. I don’t know if that means it was a waste of time or not. In real life, I’ll be able to make a composite of the map from the various images, but I’m not sure if the game will require me to have the whole thing.
With another piece of the map.
Ragna gave me some more names, one of which I’d already visited (Isleif in Felsteyn). This made me wonder if all these NPCs aren’t supposed to have maps, and perhaps whether they show or give them to you is a result of skill checks for various social skills. It thus made me think I should perhaps have been saving before each encounter and better ensuring that I had the right party member in the lead. On the other hand, perhaps the game is generous in the number of NPCs who possibly have maps, thus giving you a chance to screw up one or two of the encounters. I wouldn’t mind an explicit hint in this area, because if I’ve put myself in a “walking dead” situation, I’d like to know.
I wonder if I’ve made the wrong decision in places like this.
From Vidsand, I hopped on a ship that circled a little bay: Vidsand to Liskor to Tjanset. After a wasted visit to the armorer in Tjanset, we took a mountain path to the town of Orvil, where we had a lead on an NPC named Unbrik Sevenstones. Outside Orvil, we saved a shepherd from some direwolves (easiest combat in the game so far), and the shepherd told us of a “foul druid” named Gorah who has been charming wild beasts and sending them against the people of the various towns.
I think Baldur’s Gate II re-uses this plot.
In Orvil, Unbrik would only help us if we agreed to kill Gorah and return with his rune bone. Unbrik told us that he was about a day outside of town but didn’t specify which direction. We tried south, on the way to Skjal, as we had to go to Skjal anyway, and we got lucky along the way and found Gorah. (Or perhaps Gorah lies along whatever road you choose.) We approached his lair with the “Silentium” spell and attacked him with his group of direwolves.
What I wouldn’t give for a “Fireball” right now.
We defeated him without too much trouble even though he summoned a couple of harpies to join the battle. Most of the party leveled up a second time. We had to return to Orvil and come back again because the only character with lockpicks wasn’t in the front of the party. From the druid’s chest, we looted the rune bone as well as some other herbs and potions.
One day, I’ll have to learn what all those herbs do.
Unbrik had another piece of the map and a couple more names. From Orvil, we turned around and went to Skjal, where Jurge Torfinsson gave us yet another map piece. Unfortunately, we were unable to find Swafnild Egilsdotter, a pirate who I heard hangs around the Skjal port.
On an overland path from Skjal to Ottarje, we found a faint trail heading off into the forest. Something appeared to have been dragged along the path. We followed it to a cave blocked by a giant spider’s web, which we cut to gain entry. I had to stop playing at this point, so I sacrificed the 50 experience points to save at the mouth of the cave. I’ll explore it next time.
As I reached the end of this session, the list of places and people to visit has grown to:
Ottarje: Hjore. I realized while I was composing this entry that this is the name of the shepherd I rescued outside Orvil, not far from Ottarje.
Some port or another: Swafnild Egilsdotter, a pirate
Brendhil: Tiomar Swafnildsson (are they related?)
Phexcaer: Gerbald
Hjasingor: Algrid Trondesdotter
Miscellaneous notes:
I didn’t record what the game was asking me to confirm at this moment, but it’s fun to speculate on the possibilities.
I don’t know why the developers made travel routes dependent on specific exits from the town. It doesn’t add anything to the game except time.
Because favored weapons have a decent chance of breaking in combat, it’s a good idea to carry more than one weapon and to have each character specialize in more than one weapon type–that way, you’re more likely to be able to press a looted weapon into service.
In any given city, about 80% of the houses are just regular citizens’ houses. About half of these have an angry citizen who throws you out. The other half are unoccupied, and the game gives you a chance to burgle them. For role-playing reasons, I haven’t been doing that, but after a recent save, I decided to try to see what happens. The answer is nothing. In about 8 attempts, I simply found empty rooms. I wonder if this option ever becomes necessary or lucrative.
A completely uninteresting game option.
One area of the game that I’ve left completely unexplored is herbology. I occasionally run into an herb-seller in town, I have a character high in the “Herb Lore” skill, and the game gives an option to search for herbs when you camp at night. Despite this, I’ve only just now bothered to scan the manual for what these herbs can do.
A couple of wilderness encounters have led to the party sneaking up on enemies and observing them from afar. These encounters have offered the option to “rain a hail of arrows on the enemies”–which I think has been effective despite the fact that I haven’t been keeping bows and arrows in the party.
I’m pretty sure I don’t have a bow, so unless I’m arranging the arrows on the ground to spell out “HELLO,” I’m not sure what this option is doing here.
My takeaway from this session is that I haven’t really been enjoying Realms of Arkania but it’s mostly because I haven’t been fully engaging it. I’ve been playing it like it’s a different RPG. I need to take time to learn the spell system and the herb system, find a more effective way to manage my inventory, and re-read the manual in general.
source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/realms-of-arkania-the-long-and-winding-road/
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'They treat them like they're candy'- Female OPSO deputies sexually harassed
New Post has been published on https://getyourgossip.xyz/they-treat-them-like-theyre-candy-female-opso-deputies-sexually-harassed/
'They treat them like they're candy'- Female OPSO deputies sexually harassed
NEW ORLEANS — The dangers of the New Orleans jail are many and well-documented: riots, suicides, airborne human waste and frequent attacks by inmates on guards.
But the inmates aren’t responsible for all the hazards. Six current and former employees of the Orleans Parish Sheriff’s Office say the jail’s many female deputies have to deal with a pervasive culture of sexual harassment from their male colleagues.
Female deputies are openly evaluated based on their looks, and sex between supervisors and line deputies is common, current and former employees said. Some allege that to make matters worse, sexual harassment complaints are either ignored or downplayed by jail management.
“They treat them like they’re candy,” former deputy Christine Conner says of male deputies. “They pass them off to each other. … They get in groups and talk about who’s going to get after who first. It’s disgusting.”
The jail administrator appointed by a federal judge to fix the lock-up declined to comment on a long list of specific allegations uncovered in a joint WWL-TV/New Orleans Advocate investigation, and dismissed them all in a one-sentence statement.
“We’re not going to respond to this gossip,” Darnley Hodge Sr. said.
WWL
Sheriff Marlin Gusman, who has been stripped of most of his powers by the judge, did not respond to requests for comment.
The New Orleans jail has been under a reform agreement with the federal government since 2013, spurred by the deplorable conditions outlined in a lawsuit from a private non-profit.
The jail’s struggles since then have been many. But jail managers say their troubles stem mostly from a lack of manpower. They have too few deputies who are paid too little, they say.
The jail’s staffing has fallen from 800 employees in July 2017 to 678 as of March.
As jail officials made strenuous efforts to hire new deputies over the past few years, a new pattern emerged. Training academy classes were filled with young, female deputies, most with no previous experience in law enforcement.
One deputy who asked to remain anonymous said she has worked at the jail for nearly a decade. She has watched as the new deputies encountered what she said is a hostile environment for women. She has also faced sexual harassment from supervisors, she said.
“I’ve applied for several positions and I was qualified for it, but usually, they will want something in return. A date. Sexual favors. Just … you entertaining them. And usually, if you didn’t play that game they wanted to play, then you didn’t get that position,” the deputy said.
WWL
The deputy says the general problem became personal for her in February, when she heard that a sergeant was showing other deputies – and possibly even an inmate – a video of a man and woman having sex.
Sgt. Aaron Lacey claimed the video depicted him and her – the anonymous female deputy — having sex, she said. She said she had never had any kind of physical relationship with him at all.
Lacey declined to comment and referred questions to the Sheriff’s Office, which did not address the allegation.
WWL
On March 1, the woman sent formal complaints to Internal Affairs and to Gusman. Department emails show Gusman expressed concern about the deputy’s allegations and asked his general counsel, attorney Blake Arcuri, for advice. The attorney wrote, “I suggest you just let the investigative process proceed on.”
Gusman promised the deputy her complaint would be investigated and that “appropriate action will be taken.”
That was more than two months ago. The woman says she has not heard an update since.
Last week, Lacey began serving a 25-day suspension in connection with the incident, according to a law enforcement source. The Sheriff’s Office would not confirm or deny Lacey’s suspension.
Although the Sheriff’s Office official human resources policy says complainants are supposed to be notified about the outcome of their complaint, the woman says she has not heard an update since the email exchange with Gusman.
“To this day it hasn’t been dealt with,” she said.
The woman has separately filed a complaint with the federal Equal Employment Opportunity Commission.
In another case, Conner, the former deputy, said she had a consensual relationship with another deputy named Clemont Griffin. She had a child with Griffin, she said, but then cut the relationship off when she realized that he was married.
WWL
Conner said Griffin acted aggressively toward her on the job when she returned from maternity leave in 2016. When he spotted her having a casual conversation with a male deputy he cornered her and chastised her for “embarrassing him” and “making him look bad,” she said.
Conner said her supervisors did nothing when she complained. She did not file a written complaint.
“I let them know that I wasn’t comfortable working with him on the same shift and they did nothing about it,” she said. “They were all trying to make excuses for him.”
WWL
Conner said the stress of sharing a workplace with Griffin, who was promoted to sergeant while she worked there, made going to the jail unbearable.
“I debated for months about whether to put in my resignation. I really didn’t want to quit my job. I loved my job,” she said.
She resigned Jan. 28. Two weeks later, she filed a police report alleging Griffin had been calling her and sending harassing messages on social media. A judge ordered him to stay away from her for 18 months, according to court records.
WWL
Griffin did not respond to multiple requests for comment. The Sheriff’s Office did not respond to questions about his interactions with Conner.
It is not just deputies who accuse jail management of non-responsiveness. In a lawsuit filed May 1, a former nurse for the jail health contractor Correct Care Solutions says she and other nurses were “being physically and psychologically sexually assaulted on numerous occasions by inmates” between November and February.
Complaints to the company and jail staffers were ignored, nurse Natalie Henderson alleges. She says that she was suspended and then fired after making complaints and hiring a lawyer last month.
The company did not respond to a request for comment.
The Sheriff’s Office says that employees who encounter sexual harassment must make a complaint to the human resources department. The complaints are supposed to be investigated by the Internal Affairs Division.
After the former human resources director was fired on Feb. 21, that department lacked a permanent leader until May 7, when a new director began work.
New Orleans attorney Tracie Washington was hired by Gusman in 2014 to be a liaison with federal monitors overseeing the jail’s compliance with the consent decree. Her position eventually grew to include sexual harassment training for deputies, she said.
Washington and others say some sexual harassment complaints go to Human Resources, others go to Internal Affairs and still others directly to the sheriff. Complaints often end up in a black hole, unresolved, she said.
“This isn’t IBM, right? This isn’t one of those organizations where there’s real structure,” she said.
WWL
Washington claims the conditions for deputies have gotten worse under federal oversight.
“If an inmate has a problem with a diet, they can make a complaint directly to the compliance managers and directly to the judge, and (U.S. District Judge) Lance Africk will be all over it. But let two or three black women come in and say, ‘I’ve got an issue with this sergeant, I’ve got an issue with this captain, but I’m here at night and I don’t know what to do and I’m afraid…’ No one listens to them. They are voiceless,” she said.
Washington believes sexual harassment is a driver of the high rate of turnover among deputies working at the jail. The jail had an attrition rate of 44 percent last year.
“There’s not enough money you can pay to a woman to be subject to harassment, humiliation, even assault,” she said.
Washington is a controversial figure. She has made her name as a lawyer and activist in part by leveling accusations of racial bias in housing, schools and politics. And she claims that she, too, encountered sexual harassment from a top jail employee, former chief of corrections Michael Tidwell.
Tidwell managed the jail’s day-to-day operations in two separate stints in 2014 and from 2017 to early this year. Washington said her work relationship with Tidwell was rocky from the start. In his first stint at the jail, he made comments about her clothing and body parts until she told him to stop, she claims.
Tidwell, who was hailed by federal monitors for bringing a new level of professionalism to the jail, said her claims were a “total fabrication.”
“Never said anything like that at all,” he said.
In February, Tidwell tried to have Washington’s office moved from the jail’s kitchen and warehouse building to the main headquarters. Tidwell said that was because he wanted to keep a closer eye on her: He had recently learned that Washington had been issued a summons for simple battery for an incident at Dillard University involving a pregnant student. Tidwell said he had never been informed that Washington was teaching classes there during work hours.
The incident at Dillard in October was ugly, according to a police report. Washington called campus police complaining that a pregnant woman had thrown a water bottle at her in the parking lot. But the pregnant woman and her friends said she only threw the bottle after Washington cursed at them for parking next to her and slammed her car door into the pregnant woman’s belly. The students also allege Washington threatened to make the woman “drop that baby right now” and said she hoped the baby dies.
Washington was later acquitted of the battery charge, according to court records.
Both Washington and Tidwell agree they had a confrontation on Perdido Street outside the kitchen building in February. But their recollections of exactly what happened there diverge in one key respect.
“He pulled up and he says, ‘This isn’t working. I need you outside my office so I can watch you,’” she said. “I walked back over there and I’m a little perplexed. I’m like, ‘What?’ And when I said that, I glanced down, and he’d exposed himself.”
Washington said she angrily responded: ‘Do it again and it will get chopped off.”
Tidwell strenuously denies Washington’s allegation. He said his conversation with Washington lasted no more than 30 seconds, and stresses that he was fully clothed the entire time.
“You know, it’s amazing the level of lies this woman tells. I was fully dressed. I was down the street. I was in my car, driving to the office. Of course, I was fully dressed. Certainly didn’t expose myself,” he said. “It’s just unbelievable what she’s saying.”
Washington did not file any written complaint at the time, saying she only shared what happened with a girlfriend because she felt she had “dealt with it.”
Tidwell resigned shortly after that in March, citing poor health. He says that in his two stints at the Sheriff’s Office he heard about no more sexual harassment there than he has seen in other large workplaces.
“I don’t believe it was anything that was catastrophic. I mean, it was a problem. We had a lot of problems there,” he said.
Meanwhile, two other deputies interviewed by WWL-TV and The Advocate said they saw Tidwell as an ally in the fight against sexual harassment. They said he seemed to take their complaints more seriously than some other top jail brass.
Washington was in contact with a reporter for this story for a month before she first raised the allegation about Tidwell in an April 23 email to Gusman and Arcuri, two months after the incident.
Two days later, Washington was fired.
Hodge, the jail administrator, told her in a letter that it was because Gusman had given her the title “chief legal officer” without proper authorization.
Although Hodge declined to respond to the allegations of current and former deputies, the Sheriff’s Office maintains that it takes such claims seriously.
“We have a zero-tolerance policy that applies to all OPSO employees (including contractors and volunteers) and inmates. Whenever complaints of sexual harassment are brought to our attention, we investigate immediately and take action,” a spokesman said.
© 2018 WWL
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