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sustraiii · 3 years

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TEAM ZRCN ARC 3 - CHAPTER 16

A day after Wisteria arrived at the base, we learn a little of what happened during Parson and Cordovan’s mission.

CORDOVAN

Cordovan stood silently, watching Wisteria through a glass window separating the corridor to the interview room where the other was sitting cuffed to a table.

Wren had asked her to be brought out of her cell to answer some questions regarding the incident the day before, but so far, Wisteria had said nothing, only answering to the simple questions which provided little in the way of the information his mother was looking for. Cordovan questioned whether she would even answer them at all. From what he knew of her, she didn't strike him as the sort to just willingly roll over and comply. Then again, she hadn't quite been herself yesterday. She had barely engaged in the fight yesterday, and when she had, she seemed to lack the usual vivacity he was used to her showing. Not that it made fighting her any easier; even though she had posed little threat to him that day, it had been hard to shift the thoughts of what had happened the last time they had met.

In the room opposite, Wisteria finally leaned forward to pick up the cup of water Cherry had given to her along with a sandwich only minutes earlier. Due to being cuffed, the action it took to drink the water was clumsy, and some of it dripped down her chin. Cherry seemed surprisingly patient during all of this, given that she had been sat with her for nearly two hours.

"Ah, there you are, your mother asked me to find you," A voice sounded from the left, and Cordovan turned his head to see Parson walking down the corridor towards him. "Mr Oxford and Captain Bougainvillea have arrived to talk about what happened yesterday." Parson paused and Cordovan was aware of the older man studying him intently. "Are you alright?"

Cordovan didn't respond at first, too consumed by his thoughts and studying Wisteria in the room opposite. Parson's hand on his shoulder was finally able to bring him back to reality. "Cordovan?"

"Sorry," Cordovan was quick to say, flashing the man an apologetic look. "I'm fine it's just hard being so close to her and not think back on things."

"You don't need to apologise to me," Parson said, squeezing his shoulder a little tighter. "It's understandable you're still feeling a little conflicted about the whole situation. Just remember what I told you, yeah? If your mind starts to bother you, do those breathing exercises, just like I taught you. And if you need an impartial ear to vent to, I'm willing to listen."

Cordovan nodded, smiling appreciatively at the older man. It was hard to admit for him, but he still had several issues to work through in his life. The foremost of which were his conflicted feelings toward Wisteria, which continued to deeply affect his life and ability to carry out his duties as a huntsman-in-training. Training with Parson the past few days had been helping him work through some of those issues, even if it was just scratching the surface. Truth be told, Cordovan didn't know if he was ready to confront his trauma yet, but it was reassuring that he had someone like Parson to help guide him through it when he was ready.

Leaving Wisteria and Cherry alone in the interview room, Parson led him to where Wren was waiting for them with Gorman and Captain Bougainvillea, passing by Helia working on some stances with Calantha in the training room.

They found Wren waiting for them in her private office, huddled together expectantly. Morgan was also present in the room, which Cordovan noted made sense as he had been present at the factory yesterday. He moved to stand on the same side of the room as his mother, Parson, and Morgan.

"Glad we could all make it," Captain Bougainvillea smiled. "You look better than when I last saw you yesterday."

He had only met the head of Highpoint security yesterday, but she seemed like a pleasant enough woman. She was of a similar age to Parson and his mother, had light brown skin, and straight dark brown almost hair that fell past her shoulders. She was efficient at her job, with a firm but fair attitude, and a persistent work ethic. Cordovan got the impression that she was a woman who liked to see things through to the end.

"My apologies for the delay, Wren," Gorman began, straightening his tie as he spoke. "I know you wished to speak about matters yesterday, but as you might imagine, Heath Porfirio, had a lot to talk about."

"It's no problem, Gorman," Wren said, giving him a reassuring smile. "I am just glad we could discuss things sooner rather than later. Please give my apologies to Mr Porfirio the next time you see him, it was never my intention that our alliance with the security team would result in quite such destruction."

"To be fair to our little group from yesterday, when I asked for their help I did not believe we'd be engaging in such a fight," Captain Bougainvillea admitted. "My intel only told me about suspected suspicious activity, not that the Porfirio's place of business had been fully infiltrated by this - what was their name again? - Rossi family."

"To be fair Carmen, I don't think any of us suspected it either," Parson pointed out.

“Heath has already been proclaiming his innocence,” Gorman said, drawing the attention back to him. “He claims to have had no idea about anyone infiltrating his business. He and I do not always see eye to eye, but I am inclined to believe him.”

“As am I,” Carmen agreed, speaking directly to Wren as she did so. "Mr Porfirio's attitude may leave something to be desired at times, as does his daughter we dealt with yesterday, but I have lived in Highpoint for all my life and have known him for just as long. He is an honest man, and certainly not the sort to willingly align himself with people like that."

Cordovan watched his mother closely as she absorbed this information, curious what she thought of their opinions. He had met Heath Porfirio once before, and whilst he had a neutral opinion of the man himself, Cordovan knew that Neela trusted him and that was good enough for him.

Seemingly, the assurances of Carmen and Gorman were enough for his mother too, as she conceded to agree to not class him as a person of interest in the battle. Moving on, she asked Carmen if the security team had found any traces of the Rossi's and their people after the battle.

“During our initial search of the area after the battle, we did find a discarded set of clothes. Judging by the burn marks, I’d hazard a guess it was from the individual who got caught up in that dust explosion they used to escape.” Carmen responded to her question.

“Their name is Sparrow,” Cordovan said quickly, when the name suddenly came to him. He could recall them from the attack on his home some weeks before, where they had grappled with Helia, using their speed and quick jabs to keep the older huntress on her toes. Having seen them in battle twice now, Cordovan got the impression that they were not usually the sort to engage in battle and were better suited to a more supportive or evasive fighting style.

"And do you know the name of the woman who triggered the explosion?" Carmen asked, turning towards him.

Cordovan nodded. "I believe her name is Miho Ryuzaki. You'd be better asking Calantha for a more concise answer, as she knows more about them."

"Calantha?"

"Calantha Rossi," Wren answered for him. Judging by the surprised looks on Carmen and Gorman's faces, neither knew about her presence at the base.

"I was not aware you had a member of that family staying with you," Gorman mused. Judging by his tone of voice, Cordovan got the impression that he was unsure what to make of this.

"Similar to the situation with Wisteria, Miss Rossi was entrusted to be watched over by my team by General Ironwood due to her involvement in several active and inactive cases that are of interest to the military," Wren explained, trying to keep the situation calm. She turned to Carmen as she added, "However, unlike Wisteria, you do have permission to question her independently from our alliance with the security team. But you will only do so if Miss Rossi consents, and if one of my team is present during any proposed interview."

Carmen considered this for a moment before nodding to show she understood. "I believe our current situation works fine for the time being. However, I would like any information on those involved in the attack yesterday."

"Of course," Wren nodded. "Morgan, would you be so kind as to help provide Captain Bougainvillea with the appropriate information?"

"Not at all," Morgan said, smiling politely at Carmen. "Captain Bougainvillea, please follow me."

Morgan moved from his side of the room and over to the door, holding it open and gesturing for Carmen to follow him. She gave a quick farewell to Gorman and the others before quietly following Morgan out of the room.

Gorman fiddled with his blazer before looking up at Wren. "I know you promised to relay any information to Carmen if and when it comes out, but I must ask, has Wisteria shown any signs of talking yet?" There was a pause as his gaze moved between Cordovan and his mother. "And I'm not just asking this as a councilman but rather a father. No doubt you're familiar with the situation given what happened to your son, but I will remind you that my daughter was kidnapped by her group all those months ago, and they attempted to ransom her back in an effort to extort money from my family."

Cordovan tensed at the mention of the night, but relaxed when his mother touched his arm. Gorman noticed the gesture, and looked apologetically at Cordovan, who in turn gave a small nod to show he was alright once the moment had passed.

“Unfortunately, Miss Bloome has shown little in the way of cooperation so far,” Wren admitted. “We will continue to hold her until I am satisfied my line of questioning is complete, or unless the General requests I bring her to Atlas.” His mother’s expression softened as she added, “I assure you Gorman - you will be among the first to know of any changes.”

“Thank you,” Gorman smiled. When his smile faded, he looked as though he had something else to say, but was torn between broaching the topic or not. “Whilst I’m here there was actually another topic I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Go on.”

“It’s about the Ball,” Gorman said.

“The Ball?” His mother echoed, clearly a little take aback.

“Yes, it's the annual dance we host at-”

“No, no, I’m aware of what the Astrolabe Ball is,” Wren said, cutting him off quickly. “I was just curious why you brought it up? It isn’t my place to decide whether it takes place or not.”

“Well, given the current situation we find ourselves in, I could understand if you thought it to be great of a security risk,” Gorman pointed out. “We have already had to put the event off for a few weeks due to resource issues, but I think that given the year we’ve all had, we could all enjoy something like the dance to brighten our spirits.”

Wren gestured for Parson to lean close to her, and the two of them had a whispered conversation, which Cordovan was too far away to make out any words. When they had finished, it was Parson who next addressed Gorman. “Do you have any security in place at the University for when the dance would take place?”

“Usually we have one or two members of the security team stationed at the school as a precaution,” Gorman responded.

Parson and Wren shared a glance before nodding their heads in sync. “I have a proposition for,” Wren said. When Gorman nodded his head for her to continue, she revealed the details of this aforementioned proposition. Cordovan listened as his mother suggested they wait for a week to see how events at the Porfirio’s factory would play out and see if anything came of it. If a week passed without issue Gorman could formally announce that the Ball was going to take place. As an extra precaution, Wren even offered up the services of the Mob Ops to help keep the place secure if Gorman was still concerned about a heightened security risk.

Gorman rubbed his chin in thought before nodding his head sharply. “I would need to repeat your proposition to the board of governors for the school, but I think your proposition will go down well.” He smiled and proceeded to extend out a hand for Wren to shake. “It’s been a pleasure as always, Wren. Now if you excuse me I must go and find Carmen again.”

“Is a dance really wise?” Cordovan asked his mother, once he could no longer hear the sound of Gorman walking away. “Considering their previous actions, I doubt the Rossi’s would just drop everything so that we can enjoy a dance.”

“Which is why we are taking precautions,” Wren assured him, fixing eyes with her son. “And, if the Ball is to go ahead, we will continue to take precautions during the night. As Gorman said, with everything we’ve been through as of late, this could be a welcome distraction. Especially for you…”

#team zrcn fic #team zrcn #Cordovan Radcliff #parson rook #wren honeycutt #gorman oxford #carmen bougainvillea

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beatriceeagle · 4 years

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no pressure if you're busy but i was wondering - is titans good? or is it more a show where you're like it's not /good/ but i like it? i thought it looked interesting but then everyone was so negative about it i kind of got put off. And then your (really excellent btw) video resparked why i thought it'd be interesting to watch in the first place. thanks!

I haven’t paid a ton of attention to what fans have said about Titans, although I’m aware that there’s a general negative vibe around it. I suspect that whether Titans is worth watching for you depends a whole lot on what you want out of Titans.

I went into the show having never read a DC comic in my life. I was coming off of a week-long Wikipedia binge on Batman and his associated characters—the Robins, the Batgirls, some dude named Signal—and was talking to @thirdblindmouse about how it had become overwhelmingly clear to me that we’ve been doing Batman all wrong for decades, and the way to tell the story is as an ensemble family drama about intergenerational trauma. And she was like, “Uh, have you seen Titans?” So all of my pre-existing understanding of the characters comes from Google and selected comics scans.

I suspect that the show’s interpretation of Dick Grayson, in particular, is... skewed? I’m almost certain, based on scans of comics I’ve seen/the half a season of Teen Titans I watched a lifetime ago, that its interpretation of Starfire is highly nontraditional. There are certain storylines that I know they’re adapting, but like, they are playing very loose with the adaptation of even some of the characters’ basic personalities. (I’m pretty sure—again, not really a DC comics fan!)

So if you’re very committed to a generally cheerful Dick Grayson, Titans will not give you that. If you have a vision of Batman as a generally decent man, Titans will really not give you that. In general, I think that the show would be better if it erred more towards a lighter tone for Dick—there are moments where he has shades of Quentin in season three of The Magicians, when Q was kind of endearingly hapless, and the show is better for it. But I think it earns its ambivalent stance on Batman, and uses it well. Batman in Titans looks and acts like your dad whose office you’re not allowed into. And Titans!Starfire is really amazing. Like, Anna-Diop-is-a-revelation, fuck-now-you’ve-got-me-shipping-against-my-will amazing.

The bigger issue that Titans has—and this is not unrelated to Dick’s characterization, I guess—is its relationship with violence. Titans is a really violent show, especially in its first season, and it’s off-putting. Pretty much every superhero show involves the heroes beating up bad guys; not every superhero show involves the protagonist mutilating someone in the course of a fight.

This is not unthinking hyperviolence. Titans (which is actually annoyingly pretty good about tracking character through action sequences) is trying to make a point: The compounding traumas of Dick’s childhood resulted in an explosion of rage. Batman funneled his anger into Dick; Dick funnels his anger into whatever bad guy he’s fighting. The show isn’t subtle about this idea. Dick says it out loud several times. Nor (after the first fight) does the show endorse Dick’s over-the-top violence. Everyone from Donna Troy to Dick himself remarks on it with, at minimum, concern. And over time, Dick’s fighting style changes; he consciously leaves the hyperviolence behind, until his final fight of season two is primarily evasive.

But Dick is not the only Titans character who is working out his rage on the criminals he apprehends, and the show is considerably less coherent in its tonal approach to other characters’ violence. Hank and Dawn—the masked hero team Hawk and Dove—have an origin story that plays out like the the backstory of a serial killer couple, their interlocking trauma and rage and grief finding expression and acceptance in each other. The show is aware of the dynamic, but it’s not clear that it’s aware of how disturbing it is. Hank and Dawn are, primarily, people who need to cause violence in order to be at peace in their own heads—and only secondarily, people who want to protect others from danger. Season two does do some work exploring this idea, but the exploration is confused by the fact that, in the end, the show wants both of them on the cast.

Which is kind of the problem with any superhero show that sets out to explore the ethics of superheroism—at the end of the day, the characters aren’t gonna retire to Wisconsin, you know? So Titans presents hyperviolence, presents it as problematic (sometimes), presents it as almost an inevitable consequence of traumatized teenagers deciding to pursue vigilante justice... and then builds a superhero team of traumatized teenagers and young adults. As is its basic conceit.

And on a more fundamental level, the hyperviolence just sort of makes the show feel very grim. It’s already an aesthetically dark show, a lot of the time, and then you’ve got people getting mutilated, and Batman’s an asshole and Dick Grayson’s got anger management issues, and it feels like the show’s grimdark.

I don’t think it is, though. First of all, despite everything, Titans actually has a sense of humor, both in general and occasionally about itself—I mean, it’s not Legends of Tomorrow, but it understands how to crack a smile every now and then. (They have a superdog. He shoots lasers out of his eyes!) But more importantly, at the end of the day, Titans is hopeful. Yeah, it’s a show about anger and violence and intergenerational trauma—but it’s more specifically about moving beyond those things. At its heart, it’s about being a better parent to your children than your parents were to you.

That central relationship between Dick and Rachel—Dick trying, and sometimes failing, but always caring and trying to be better for Rachel, and Rachel’s absolute fury with him when he fails, but her unshakeable devotion to him for being there, the unbelievable amount of sway he holds in her world—that’s what makes the show work for me. There are other vital relationships, too—Rachel and Kory, especially, but also all of the pseudo-familial relationships built up between all of the characters—but it all comes back to Dick and Rachel.

I mean, it’s a found family show. So much so that in season two, there are like, three separate speeches about how this is a family, not one of those stupid biological families, but a family we found, and isn’t that the important kind? And how grimdark can a found family show really be?

The other thing that might throw some people off—but which is actually one of my favorite things about the show—is the structure. If you take a look at the Titans episode list, you’ll see that roughly 75 percent of the episodes are named after a character or characters. Season one of Titans is basically about Dick, Starfire, Gar, and Rachel (Raven from the comics) traveling the midwest, picking up the people who will eventually form the main Titans team. When they encounter those people, they get a spotlight episode. So in episode two, “Hawk and Dove,” when Dick and Rachel lay low at Hank and Dawn’s, the episode starts out with an extended cold open, entirely disconnected from the main characters, just introducing us to Hank and Dawn as characters. Episode eight, “Donna Troy,” sees Dick go to visit his old friend Donna in Milwaukee, and... basically just hang out with her for half the episode, while the rest of the cast does plot stuff. Occasionally, these spotlight episodes stop the plot completely: Towards the end of season one, an episode ends on a cliffhanger. the next episode, rather than showing the outcome of the cliffhanger, is “Hank and Dawn,” an episode that flashes back to show the story of how Hank and Dawn met and became masked heroes. (There’s an in-episode device that eventually makes it clear why this story is related to the cliffhanger.) Season two uses the cliffhanger-into-a-flashback-spotlight-episode structure two more times, once with a character we’ve never met before.

I can see this being deeply frustrating to a viewer watching week-by-week (and I would not recommend watching Titans in that manner). And it’s certainly an unconventional way to structure a season of television. But honestly? I think it’s half of what I like about the show. The spotlight and flashback episodes are good—often some of the best the show’s produced. They don’t stop the plot for no reason; in season two, in particular, they provide context and backstory and characterization in a way that would be almost impossible to do, or to do so well, without the space of a full episode. They make the show more episodic than it would otherwise be—always a joy, in a television landscape full of 10-hour movies—and give it space to experiment with tone and genre. They make the characters richer, and the relationships more complex.

Does it slow down the plot? Absolutely. But Titans is not overflowing with complex plot, and I don’t really think it should try to. The plot of Titans hangs together juuuuuuuust enough to make the themes and characters and relationships work. It’s coherent—we’re not talking Teen Wolf, here—but it’s not brilliant, and honestly, that’s fine by me. But I suppose if you want your plot to be really good, this may not be the show for you.

Finally, I’ll say that Titans, though not what I would call a feminist show (it has a primarily male writing staff and I think it shows) does have a kind of surprisingly large female cast? I wanna say it’s five men, five women, by the end of season two? (Yeah, it’s a fucking enormous cast.) And the women have actual relationships with each other, ones that the show puts some effort into maintaining and remembering. I realize this is damning with faint praise, but honestly I’d just expected a show like Titans to not do that, and was prepared to ignore it, and was kind of pleasantly surprised when I didn’t have to.

In summary: I told my sister that Titans is 10% men in spandex standing on cars, 30% team as family, 30% intergenerational trauma, 20% an uncomfortable relationship with is own hyperviolence, and 10% Krypto the Superdog. I think that tracks. That show, despite having Anna Diop’s glowing presence, has a lot of flaws, but it also really worked for me on some soul-deep level. I am exactly on its wavelength.

I do not think that Titans is a fantastic television show, but I also don’t think it’s a very bad one. I think it’s generally competent show that is very interesting in some aspects, is weak in some areas, falls prey to some inherent trappings of its genre, is thoughtful about familial trauma, is not thoughtful enough about violence and criminal justice, has a lot of very compelling performances, is really poorly lit a lot of the time, pays a lot of attention to its visual language, kind of thinks Batman’s an asshole, and has Krypto the Superdog. It really worked for me; I can see why others might not be into it; it might work for you!

#thank you for giving me this opportunity to talk about titans #a show that has EATEN MY BRAIN #titans #meta

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tierneysinclair · 4 years

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“Nobody’s ever been arrested for a murder; they have only ever been arrested for not planning it properly.” ― Terry Hayes, I Am Pilgrim

Basic Information

Full name: Tierney Sinclair Pronunciation: Tier-Knee Sin-Claire Nickname(s): Not if you like to live. Tierney doesn’t do nicknames. Tierney is the only name he’ll answer to. Birthdate: September 8, 1979 Age: 40 Zodiac: Virgo Gender: Cis-Male Pronouns: he/him Romantic Orientation: Straight Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Nationality: American Ethnicity: White Current Location: Miami, Florida Living Conditions: Tierney lives in a small apartment above his new garage. It’s nothing fancy and that’s the way he likes it. Well worn couches, outdated kitchen appliances, wear worn towels. He doesn’t live in the slums but owning only new things has never been a part of Tierney’s lifestyle.

Background

Birthplace: Las Vegas, Nevada Hometown: N/A Social Class: Presents as lower-middle class but has enough money in the bank to be upper class if he really wanted to be. But he never will. Educational Achievements: None. Tierney never went to school. By the time he was released for the testing facility it was too late and too hard to get someone like him caught up. Sporadically home schooled by staff and other people Tierney isn’t the sort of person you want on your trivia team. He struggles with complex math, history, and all other assorted ‘average school knowledge’. Father: Unknown Mother: Unknown Sibling(s): Unknown Birth Order: N/A Pets: None Previous Relationships: Nothing lasts longer than a night. Do one night stands count? Arrests: A lot. By the time Tierney aged out of the foster program he’d been arrested more times than he had fingers and toes. Nothing major, minor mischief and petty theft. It wasn’t until he was picked up by the Syndicate that he started doing bigger crimes. And by then he had the support network to not get arrested. Prison Time: Surprisingly, not a lot. Accumulated, no more than a few months. It pays to have friends in low places.

Occupation & Income

Current Occupation: Hitman for the Blackburn Syndicate & Freelance Motorcycle Restorer Dream Occupation: None. Tierney has a limited view of both his life and the world. The idea of having a ‘dream’ anything is a foreign concept to him. Past Job(s): He was boy once at a greasy diner once. When they found out he’d lied about who he was a week later he was fired. Chicago wasn’t kind to kids with rap sheets and level five rankings. Falling in with the Syndicate has been the only ‘real’ job he’s ever had. Spending Habits: Tierney is a very frugal person. He buys almost everything second hand or used and very rarely spends it on anything new. The only expensive things he owns are his bikes and a flat screen TV. Tierney’s not ashamed to admit most of his money gets spent on bike parts anyways. Debt: Never. Credit cards mean government ability to track him. And being in debt t other people is a one way trip to being killed over it at a later date. Tierney repays any debts he can’t avoid as quickly as possible, but he tends to avoid accruing debts as much as possible. Most Valuable Possession: Some people might say it would be his bikes, and from a purely financial stand point it most definitely is, but according to Tierney it’s the Blackburn Syndicate, hands down.

Skills & Abilities

Physical Strength: Above Average | Average | Below Average

Tierney works out twice a day, every day, no exceptions. He needs to be in top physical condition for every job and now it’s just become a part of his daily habits. He’s supremely strong in his own right but mix his powers in with it and a supremely dedicated force of will he could probably lift a car above his head.

Speed: Above Average | Average | Below Average

Tierney isn’t the fastest hitman on the market but he’s perfectly capable of darting in and out of a situation with speed. It’s part of the job to act quickly and what he lacks in sheer speed he knows he more than makes up for elsewhere.

Intelligence: Above Average | Average | Below Average

Tierney never went to school. What schooling he did get the few years he had between testing and aging out was sporadic at best. He’s not ashamed of his faults but he doesn’t go around talking about them much either. Besides, being able to recite the presidents holds no bearing on his life choices so...what’s it matter? Tierney knows how to do his job exceptionally well. What Tierney doesn’t know ranges from complex math to the English Oxford Comma.

Accuracy: Above Average | Average | Below Average

Tierney’s powers require a certain degree of needed accuracy coupled with the fact he’s exceptionally talented with a range of deadly weapons. He prides himself in hitting exactly what he’s aiming at every time. Sure, he misses, but that usually because his target makes an unexpected move before he can account for it.

Agility: Above Average | Average | Below Average

He’s getting older, he won’t lie about that, and that’s starting to show. Tierney is less likely to look like a stunt double these days. No somersaults or daring roof top leaps happen these days. Besides, it’s more dramatic to sweep in like an avenging angel and sweep out just as quickly. Agility is good for running away. But you only run away when you get caught. And Tierney never gets caught.

Stamina: Above Average | Average | Below Average

Tierney’s powers are tied directly to his stamina. It’s taken him years and years of practice to build up the stamina he has now. He can use his powers for hours before he starts to feel winded and hours more before he gets tired. (Unless he goes for the super taxing activities like lifting buildings or psionic explosions.) It’s perhaps his greatest strength, his ability to keep going when others weaker than him might stop.

Teamwork: Ciara Sawyer is his go-to partner. Hell, most would call her his only partner. He doesn’t like working with other people and tries very hard not to do it. He will when he must but he’ll be begrudging about it the whole time. Talents/Hobbies: Motorcycles, Lockpicking, Murder Shortcomings: His sense of justice, the inability to kill someone who isn’t involved with what he’s doing. It’s a bonus he can erase minds when he wants to. Anyone who knows Tierney from work and outside of work knows he has a severe weak spot for his gang. Touch a hair on their heads and he tends to lose focus. Languages Spoken: English Drive?: Yes. A MV Agusta Brutale. Jump-Start a Car?: Yes Change a Flat Tire?: All the time. Ride a Bicycle?: No way. In hell. Swim?: Not because he likes to. Play an Instrument?: Nope Play Chess?: Yes Braid Hair?: No Tie a Tie?: Yes. Of course! Pick a Lock?: Oh hell yeah. With his mind. Cook?: Yes, but not well.

Physical Appearance & Characteristics

Faceclaim: Joel Kinnaman Eye Color: Brownish/Greenish Hair Color: Ashy Blonde Hair Type/Style/Length: Average/Well Kept/Short Glasses/Contacts?: None Dominant Hand: Right Height: 6′ 2″ Weight: 187lbs Build: Athletic Exercise Habits: Two session, morning and evening. Every day, two hours. With intermittent practice in between with others. Skin tone: Fair Tattoos: Left shoulder reaching to just below his elbow, spiders out to cover some of his chest and back. Got it to cover up an old gunshot scar. A faded string of numbers on his right arm (080879-58-05). Piercings: None Marks/Scars: Tierney is covered in scars. From battle wounds to childhood scrapes, to remnants of his life as a test mutant. Most can be found on his chest and back but part of why he wears pants and sleeves is to hide the others. Don’t want his identifying marks to get out and doesn’t like explaining to others what happened to him in order to get that many scars. Clothing Style: Dark colors, long pants, long sleeves, deep pockets. Usually a coat when the weather allows. The more places to hide the things he needs to work the better. But he cleans up well, he has plenty of suits in his closet too. Usually second hand stuff, the only time he buys something fancy is when he’s on a job. Jewelry: A set of dog tags labeling him a level five mutant. Nothing more. Allergies: None Diet: Average. More fast food than probably healthy. Physical Ailments: Stiff knees. Jumped off a few too many building in his younger years. Spent too many hours kneeling behind walls after that. They don’t bother him much but anyone with eyes can see they’re stiff. His left shoulder is also stiff, he favors it. Perhaps on of his worst gun shot injuries to date. It haunts him. And aches when the weather changes.

Psychology

MBTI Type: ISTJ-A (The Logistician)

ISTJs are often called inspectors. They have a keen sense of right and wrong, especially in their area of interest and/or responsibility. They are noted for devotion to duty. Punctuality is a watchword of the ISTJ. As do other Introverted Thinkers, ISTJs often give the initial impression of being aloof and perhaps somewhat cold. Effusive expression of emotional warmth is not something that ISTJs do without considerable energy loss. ISTJs are most at home with "just the facts, Ma'am." They seem to perform at highest efficiency when employing a step-by-step approach.

Enneagram Type: Type 6 (The Skeptic)

The committed, security-oriented type. Sixes are reliable, hard-working, responsible, and trustworthy. Excellent "troubleshooters," they foresee problems and foster cooperation, but can also become defensive, evasive, and anxious—running on stress while complaining about it. They can be cautious and indecisive, but also reactive, defiant and rebellious. They typically have problems with self-doubt and suspicion. At their Best: internally stable and self-reliant, courageously championing themselves and others.

Moral Alignment: Lawful Neutral

A lawful neutral character acts as law, tradition, or a personal code directs her. Order and organization are paramount to her. She may believe in personal order and live by a code or standard, or she may believe in order for all and favor a strong, organized government.

Temperament: Choleric

Cholerics are extroverted, quick-thinking, active, practical, strong-willed, and easily annoyed. They are self-confident, self-sufficient, and very independent minded. They are brief, direct, to the point, and firm when communicating with others.

Element: Earth & Fire Emotional Stability: Stable Introvert or Extrovert?: Introvert Obsession(s): Motorcycles. Tierney doesn’t know a lot outside of how to kill someone and get away with it. But he knows practically everything there is to know about motorcycles. How they work, how the break, how to fix them. Everything. Some would call him obsessed but Tierney calls it laser focused. Compulsion(s): Protecting his family. It’s what’s on his mind in every situation. All of his actions are dictated by this fact. Even for decisions that aren’t going to impact the Syndicate are measured against this need. It’s never occurred to him that it might, in fact, be a problem. It’s just natural. Phobia(s): Mutant testing facilities. It’s irrational, especially now, to be afraid of getting taken back to the white walled hellscape he grew up in. But he is. He scrubs his name clean where ever he goes and actively avoids anyone in a lab coat who starts asking questions. He even takes down fliers asking for mutants to ‘willingly’ submit to testing. He doesn’t talk about those years for damn good reasons. Addiction(s): None Drug Use: None Alcohol Use: Often Prone to Violence?: Always Prone to Crying?: No Believe in Love at First Sight?: No

Mannerisms

Accent: Depends. A bit of a hodgepodge of Boston and Midwestern. Tends to adapt to the common accent after a while when staying in a place for a prolonged period of time. Speech Quirks: None Hobbies: Motorcycle Repair, Motorcycle Rebuilding Habits: Spinning things in the air when he’s concentrating. Leg bouncing. Ordering more food than he can eat so he has left overs in the fridge. Nervous Ticks: Rubbing his nose and spinning objects in the air at high rates of speed. Drives/Motivations: Protecting his family. Fears: Losing his family, someone dying on him, being taken back in for testing. Sense of Humour?: Dry. Like the desert. Do They Curse Often?: Like. All the time.

Favorites

Animal: Bear Beverage: Heineken Beer and/or Black Coffee Book: None. Tierney hates reading. Color: Deep Green Food: Ciara’s Flower: None Gem: Emeralds Mode of Transportation: Motorcycles Scent: Fresh brewed coffee, rain on the horizon, motorcycle oil, pizza grease on your fingers Sport: Football and Hockey Weather: Rain Vacation Destination: None

Attitudes

Greatest Dream: End mutant testing. Tierney sees nothing productive in the act and goes out of his way to end it whenever and wherever he can. Mutants are people. Not lab rats to be poked at or taken away from their families. Greatest Fear: Losing one of his family and being taken back for mutant testing. Most at Ease When: Elbow deep in one of his bikes with of his closest friends lounging on the couch across the way. Least as Ease When: He doesn’t know what’s going on around him. When his plans has fallen through and he’s no longer in control of what’s happening around him. Worst Possible Thing That Could Happen: Alma being murdered. Biggest Achievement: Taking out the president of the company that held him as a test subject when he was a child. Biggest Regret: He has exactly Eleven. Eleven deaths that weren’t supposed to happen but did.

#hc #mrtask #murder tw #violence tw #abuse tw

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chronicallylatetotheparty · 4 years

Text

Scarlet Fever Ch.7 Voyager

LoganLight, AO3

Summary:

Setting the board.

Notes:

Okay, I think I have a better idea of how this is going to go.

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Adrien tried to push himself out of Gorizilla's grip to no avail. He was really getting tired of playing the damsel in distress.

His bodyguard jumped the relatively short distance to the ground in order to dodge the slash of Muqīn Long's sword. Gorizilla glanced at Adrien to make sure he was fine and turned to face the heroes.

"Let him go!" Maneki-neko demanded and drew her weapon. She hurled herself at the giant.

Gorizilla casually backhanded her away.

Kagami! Adrien breathed a sigh of relief as Muqīn Long caught her. He growled and redoubled his efforts to break free.

His teammates launched a joint assault on the akumatized man. Tikki took advantage of the distraction to fly up to Adrien as Gorizilla fended off the heroes, swatting at them like bugs. She clung to his side to keep out of the villain's sight. "Adrien! Are you all right!?"

Maneki-neko and Muqīn Long struck simultaneously at the giant hand that held their teammate in an attempt to force Gorizilla to let go. The akumatized villain dodged, being much faster than he seemed, and the heroes sailed past their intended target.

"Oh, you know," he wheezed as Gorizilla accidentally squeezed a bit too hard, lifting him straight up and away from the heroes as they made another pass. "Admiring the view. I don't suppose you can use Lucky Charm while outside the earrings?"

Tikki shook her head. "It wouldn't help."

His brow furrowed as he thought of a way out of this mess. His teammates jumped around his akumatized bodyguard in an attempt to disorient him and get in a lucky hit. It was times like these that Adrien envied Marinette's quick thinking. He scanned their surroundings as Gorizilla turned this way and that, trying to swat the heroes with one hand. Last time he'd been caught like this Plagg had- There! He spotted a subway entrance not far from the akumatized bodyguard.

"Tikki, remember how we beat Gorizilla last time?" At her nod he continued. "I need you to tell Maneki-neko and Muqīn Long the plan..."

Tikki flew off to relay his instructions, careful to avoid being seen.

Irked at their continued evasions, Gorizilla leapt onto the rooftops to avoid another strike of Maneki-neko's weapon.

Kagami's baton didn't damage the giant but it did sting. She knew which spots to hit in order to make an enemy release their grip. But the gorilla-like giant was obviously resistant to her attacks or Adrien would already be free.

Muqīn Long preferred not to use the edge of her blade on an innocent victim's skin. Which limited the use of her sword. Lightning would do more harm to Adrien and water was easily dodged by someone so surprisingly agile. She could use wind, but how?

"Muqīn Long!" Tikki called out.

Gorizilla noticed the brief pause in the heroes' assault and took advantage of it. He ran across the rooftops on -almost- all fours, the heroes giving chase. He had Adrien and the location of the Miraculous was compromised. It was only a matter of time before the other akumatized villains arrived to-

"What are you doing!?" Papillon Écarlate demanded. "If you let them regroup we'll lose our chance to take all of the Miraculous!"

Gorizilla grunted and gestured to the defiant Adrien in his hand.

"The heroes won't harm him! Get back over there and take the Miraculous!"

Reluctantly the akumatized villain turned on his heel and jumped onto the street with a deafening crash. He barreled past the heroes and through abandoned vehicles. Straight for the Miracle Box.

"Wind Dragon!"

The gale swept through the street, lifting cars and other large objects in it's wake. Gorizilla leaned into the wind, shielding Adrien from the debris with his other arm.

Muqīn Long leapt into the air current. She used the wind's momentum and sailed right towards Gorizilla. Blinded by the wind the giant didn't see the Dragon before she barreled feet first into his forehead.

"Cataclysm!"

Maneki-neko slammed her destructive power onto the street. It collapsed, exposing the underground subway station, and taking Gorizilla with it, trapping his legs. The giant lost his balance... And his grip on Adrien.

Adrien tumbled through the air, approaching the ground at breakneck speed. He resisted the urge to call for his transformation where the akumatized could see him. The unyielding concrete raced closer and-

A cyan blur caught Adrien before he hit the pavement. He quickly wrapped his arms around his rescuer. "... Please tell me you didn't use Second Chance?"

Viperion merely gripped him tighter.

Adrien swallowed. "Oh... I really hate dying."

Viperion landed on a rooftop and set Adrien down behind a chimney. "... Then why do you keep trading yourself for Ladybug?"

Adrien wasn't sure why the question irritated him so much. "I don't 'trade myself' for Ladybug. I 'trade myself' for Paris."

"Adrien!" Tikki zoomed toward him, hugging his cheek in relief.

"I'm alright," Adrien reassured her.

"I saw Maneki-neko grab Gorizilla's akumatized object," Viperion informed him. "We need the Ladybug."

Adrien nodded and held out a piece of regular cheese to Luka. "Recharge. We're going to need it."

Viperion looked like he wanted to protest but took the offered food.

In twin flashes of pink and cyan light they transformed.

"Are you sure it's wise to restart the cycle now?" Sass asked Mister Bug.

"If I'm right we're about to have a whole bunch of company!" Mister Bug called over his shoulder and leapt down to where Maneki-neko and Muqīn Long stood.

Once she spotted him Kagami broke the phone in her hand and he easily caught the akuma. Gorizilla was enveloped in dark red mist and the Gorilla appeared. Underground. In the middle of subway tracks.

Mister Bug peered down the large hole that swallowed the entire intersection. He looked back at his teammates. "Okay. I'll get him. You two prepare for more villains. They'll be here any-"

"Down!" Kagami tackled her teammates to the ground. Narrowly avoiding the pause rune that hit a nearby streetlamp.

. . . Mister Bug missed his cat-like reflexes.

"You won't be so lucky next time you second-rate heroes!"

Said heroes scrambled in all directions as Lady Wifi threw more pause runes at them. She floated on a fast forward rune, skirting the edge of the hole.

Mister Bug swung away in an arc, quickly putting some distance between him and the villain. Maneki-neko used her staff to throw debris at Lady Wifi, who paused the rubble. Muqīn Long circled around to attack from behind.

A blast of pink mist sailed straight for Sabine.

Before Mister Bug could react a familiar lyre collided with the perfume, causing it to dissipate. He landed on a roof and turned back to see Viperion distract Princess Fragrance. Lady Wifi took notice and shot a barrage of runes at Muqīn Long, forcing her to retreat.

"Come now, Luka! You've always liked my perfume!" Princess Fragrance mocked. She sprayed a wall of mind controlling mist between her and Viperion.

I hate her! The thought came unbidden to the forefront of his mind. The force of the emotion caused him to stumble... Narrowly avoiding a giant green bubble.

"Hey, hey, hey! Heard you dudes where having a party without us!" The Bubbler swung his wand and dozens of bubbles raced at Mister Bug.

"Nino?" Adrien jumped out of their path and threw his yo-yo at the Bubbler.

"Not anymore!" The villain dodged and sent more bubbles his way. "The Bubbler's where it's at!"

Mister Bug tried to push down the emotions that refused to stay silent at the sight of his friend's akumatized form. Fear, concern, anger, all brought forth by Princess Justice's dust. He needed to focus!

"Come on, dude! Why you gotta be harshing my mellow?" The Bubbler switched his bubbles from the capturing kind to the explosive kind.

Mister Bug dropped to street level to avoid his attack. "You're the one who's harshing my mellow!" he snapped up at his akumatized friend, dodging another attack.

Risking a glance across the chasm, Adrien saw Viperion direct Muqīn Long's Wind Dragon to disperse Princess Fragrance's surrounding cloud of perfume. Maneki-neko protecting them from Lady Wifi's runes. He tried not to think about how many Second Chances they'd already been through.

"Heads up, dude!" The Bubbler brought his wand down like a sword, using the momentum from his fall to add power to his swing.

Mister Bug barely got his yo-yo spinning in time to deflect the blow. He gritted his teeth as he put some distance between him and Nino only for small bubbles to begin swarming around him. He remembered being trapped by this move.

So, instead of trying to dodge them all, Mister Bug threw his yo-yo to where his teammates fended off the other villains. Letting the string pull him out of the swirling bubbles.

"Hey!" The Bubbler protested, giving chase and directing his bubbles to follow.

Mister Bug caught Viperion's eye and gestured towards Lady Wifi and the pursuing Bubbler. The snake hero nodded in understanding and threw his lyre at Nino. Adrien took advantage of the distraction to retract his yo-yo and lasso it around Lady Wifi's hands instead.

He pulled her aim away from his teammates and towards himself instead. Snarling, Lady Wifi shot a stop rune at him. Mister Bug twisted out of the way and it hit the Bubbler instead.

Lady Wifi's eyes widened. "Bubbler!"

Muqīn Long leapt forward and slashed Lady Wifi's phone. In turn Maneki-neko threw her baton at Princess Fragrance's gun. Both supervillains reverted back to themselves as Mister Bug caught their akuma.

Adrien felt his tension ease. If his reaction to Nino was any indication both Kagami and Luka were fighting with a handicap. He knew they could feel it messing with their concentration. Princess Justice's dust combined with everyone's relative inexperience working as a team had allowed the villains to back them into a corner.

But before he could take any action Alya and Rose disappeared in a flash of white and yellow light.

"We remember you!" Party Crasher crowed, dancing into view and letting loose more beams from his disco balls.

"And we're here to settle the score!" Desperada proclaimed, shooting her trumpet rifle from the other side of the chasm.

No. Mister Bug scrambled away. Frantically dodging their attacks as unbidden emotions once again threatened to overwhelm him. No no no no NO!

"Shell-ter!"

The hexagon-patterned sphere covered the heroes before any of them could be captured. Master Fu stood with his shield raised, covered in green armor.

"Master!" Mister Bug cried, rushing to his side. All other thoughts fading to the side as concern for the Guardian rose to the forefront. "It's dangerous for you to transform!"

Jade Turtle leaned onto his young Chosen, clutching the Miracle Box close. "As you said: We need all the help we can get."

Maneki-neko's ring and Viperion's bracelet gave warning beeps. Party Crasher freed the Bubbler from the stop rune by capturing and releasing him. Desperada kept switching between weapons and firing at the Shelter.

I hate them! Muqīn Long fretted over Viperion as he pressed a palm into his forehead. I won't let them catch us again! Apparently, Adrien wasn't the only one who was getting a headache.

"I'm alright," Viperion reassured Sabine as he looked up, meeting Adrien's gaze. "We didn't get this far last time."

Mister Bug nodded in understanding; Second Chance was almost up.

"I'm about to de-transform," Maneki-neko informed them, not taking her eyes off the villains.

Mister Bug breathed deeply. "Then I guess we'll need a Lucky Charm!"

A black and red checkered box fell into Adrien's hands.

"Checkers?" Muqīn Long asked in confusion.

"No," Mister Bug corrected, opening the game board. "Chess!"

Viperion blinked at his enthusiasm. "How does that help us?" Luka gazed worriedly at the three villains concentrating their attacks on one spot.

"I'm pretty good at chess," Mister Bug replied as he went through the pieces. I won't be imprisoned again! Adrien winced. No, focus!

Like the box, the chess pieces were black and red. The red pawns represented the akumatized victims in Adrien's mind. The red queen; Princess Justice. The red king: Papillon Écarlate.

Mister Bug's eyes widened in realization. "Master Fu," Adrien urged, holding up a black knight. "I need this one."

"Of course!" The Guardian opened the Miracle Box and passed the Horse Miraculous to Mister Bug.

Giving another glance at the red and black chess pieces Adrien opened his yo-yo and placed the knight, queen and king inside the white void.

Maneki-neko and Viperion's Miraculous started beeping frantically.

"Find somewhere to hide and feed your kwamis! Muqīn Long, when Jade Turtle drop's his Shell-ter we'll need some cover. Don't fight Party Crasher or Desperada by yourselves! Just keep them distracted until the cavalry gets here!" Mister Bug's grip on the Horse Miraculous tightened as they took their positions. "Now!"

"Wind Dragon!"

Everything happened at once. As the Shell-ter fell Jade Turtle shielded Kagami and Luka from the Bubbler's explosive bubbles. Muqīn Long's power generated clouds that obscured the villains' vision, preventing them from shooting their retreating teammates.

And gave Mister Bug enough cover to slip past them, into the chasm.

He landed on the subway platform as the sounds of fighting intensified. "Gorilla!" He called out, searching past the rubble and darkness. Maneki-neko's Cataclysm had shorted out the lighting. Adrien really missed his night-vision.

He cupped his hands and was about to call the Gorilla by name when he was tackled to the ground. The Bubbler flew past them, chasing after Muqīn Long.

"... Thanks." Adrien stood and regarded his bodyguard.

The large man grunted, turning back to finding his way out of the place Adrien had accidentally trapped him in.

"Wait!" Mister Bug held out the Horse Miraculous to his bodyguard. "This Miraculous has the power to make portals. I need your help to-"

The gorilla grunted dismissively.

"Adrien is fine. I promise."

Another grunt, this one of concern.

Mister Bug sighed. "Listen, I know you're worried about Adrien. But he won't be safe until we stop Papillon Écarlate! The sooner we do, the sooner Adrien's out of danger."

The Gorilla stared at him intensely, eyes narrowed. Mister Bug squared his shoulders and stared back, meeting the large man's gaze head on despite the bodyguard's intimidating height. Finally, his bodyguard accepted the offered Miraculous.

In a flash of light Kaalki floated before them. "Oh no!" she bemoaned. "This won't do at all!"

"We don't really have a choice, Kaalki. Just say 'Kaalki, transforme-moi!' to change and 'Voyage' to use your power."

The Gorilla nodded and, putting on the glasses, signed, 'Kaalki, transformez-moi!'

The suit's design resembled riot armor, minus the helmet. Taking a moment to orient himself, the Gorilla noticed the tension in the young Ladybug's stance. Distress was clear in the boy's features despite his attempt to hide it. Which caused the bodyguard's own concern to rise. The hero reminded him of Adrien.

"Are you ready, Voyager?"

'I'm ready,' The Gorilla replied, wondering if the hero understood sign language.

Mister Bug gave a grin that dispelled the worries from his face, if only for that moment. "Excellent! Here's the plan..."

Notes:

Headcanon: Miraculous compatibility can be overcome through determination and focus.

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mezzopurrloin · 5 years

Text

Mezzo Plays Final Fantasy X: Part 3

Surprisingly, Tidus isn't dead.

He's just washed up on the coast of some island. He's hit in the back of the head with a blitzball, and spies some people on the beach waving to him.

He decides to do a midair flip kick to send it back, impressing their leader.

Then he swims to shore and introduces himself, first saying he's from Zanarkand, then after that confuses everyone, telling people he was infected by Sin's toxin.

His name is (probably) not a Pac-Man reference. Tidus asks if it's true Zanarkand was destroyed a thousand years ago, and Wakka dispenses some exposition.

"It was just as Rikku had said. Wakka and Rikku couldn't both be lying. Why would they? I appreciated the fact that Wakka was trying to cheer me up. But at that time, all I could think about was... everything that happened to me -- all of this -- started with Sin. Maybe if I could find Sin one more time, I could go home! For now, I'd just live life until that time came. No more worrying about where, or when, I was. Sure it was hard not to think of home. But I started to feel better already. A little better...maybe."

Wakka decides to escort Tidus back to his village.

Of course, they end up meeting some fiends along the way. Wakka fights using his blitzball as a weapon, which seems a bit odd, but it makes for a good throwing weapon apparently.

He also tells Tidus about a big blitzball tournament coming up. Wakka says that maybe someone there will recognize Tidus if he plays, and Tidus agrees to help out.

Here we get a nice view of Besaid Village. Wakka joined the Aurochs 10 years ago, but the team hasn't won a single game since then. He's about to give up on the blitz, but wants this last tournament to be his best yet. Tidus agrees and hopes to steer the Aurochs toward victory.

Just before entering the village proper, Wakka asks Tidus about the prayer, which of course just makes Tidus more confused.

You just put your hands in this position while saying "Praise be to Yevon."

"Any blitzball player would know that prayer. It was the blitzball sign for victory."

Time to loot some stuff! This house was wrecked by Sin and the owner never bothered rebuilding it, so it's not like they have any use for these things anyway.

There's also a little lodge here belonging to a group called the Crusaders. They're sworn to battle Sin, but no one's ever been able to truly defeat it, so their duties mainly involve keeping it away from populated areas.

One thing I forgot to mention about save points is that they also provide a full HP/MP recharge. This makes them a convenient replacement for the inns of other RPGs, though you're free to rest at the Crusaders' lodge if you want.

Once that's done, Tidus heads into the temple. It's the biggest building in the village, and faces away from the ocean, as that's where Sin comes from.

Inside the temple plays the Hymn of the Fayth, another plot-important song. No, 'fayth' is not a typo.

"It was then, standing in that place. I began to realize how different this world was from my own."

Tidus talks to one of the temple attendants, and after using the toxin excuse again, gets some more exposition.

"It was funny hearing myself make the same excuse over and over. Funny, and a little sad."

"So what he meant...was that we should respect some kinda great men or something like that...I figured."

Tidus goes back to Wakka's place for a quick nap.

Which leads us to another flashback sequence. Young Tidus is happy to see Jecht gone from his life.

His mom isn't quite that sympathetic to him.

After he wakes up, Wakka is gone. Tidus heads back to the temple to find out what's going on.

It seems that the summoner is in trouble, and Tidus immediately runs into the temple depths to help.

Monk: "The precepts must be obeyed!"

Tidus: "Like I care!"

This takes him to the Cloister of Trials, a puzzle that must be overcome before reaching the chamber of the fayth. This one's pretty simple and teaches you the basics of these rooms.

The puzzles are based around spheres. Glyph Spheres open the way to the chamber, Destruction Spheres destroy things to uncover hidden treasures, and each temple also has its own type of sphere. Only one sphere can be held at a time and you can stick them into sphere-shaped slots to activate things.

In this case, there's a Besaid Sphere powering this lovely Tron lines complex.

If we replace it with a Destruction Sphere...

It blows up a wall to reveal a hidden chest. Inside is a Rod of Wisdom, which we can't use yet. It's important to get every Destruction Sphere treasure we can, as there's a late-game reward for obtaining them all. And generally, it's important to grab everything we can the first time, since backtracking isn't really a thing for 90% of the game.

Anyway, after completing the Cloister of Trials, Wakka meets up with Tidus again, and he explains that only summoners, apprentice summoners, and their guardians can enter. Wakka is free to enter because he's a guardian. Summoners go on a pilgrimage to every temple in Spira, and the guardians protect them.

We meet some more guardians outside the chamber. And then the door opens, revealing...

"Man, was I surprised. And here I was, thinking summoners were all old geezers."

The group heads out to the town square, and the summoner decides to show her prowess.

"I had never seen anything like it in my life. Sure, it was a little scary, but still... I could feel a strange kind of gentleness from it."

You get to pick a name for the aeon too. Her canon name is Valefor, but I went with Yvonne on a suggestion from Umbra.

The celebration continues into the night, and Tidus and the summoner finally get to meet face-to-face.

Yuna forgives Tidus for barging in, as she feels it was her fault for taking so long.

"I remember... That night, we talked for the first time. I didn't know it then, but after that night, everything changed. For everyone... For me..."

If you haven't already figured it out, yes, Yuna is the main love interest. After talking to her, Tidus heads to the Crusaders' lodge to sleep.

It's only been one day and you're already having dreams about her?

Yeah, yeah, Rikku's cute too.

Jecht, stop being such an asshole. This is why your son hates you.

Tidus awakens and sees Wakka and the girl in black, Lulu, talking.

You know how they say Final Fantasy characters are obsessed with belts? Yeah, here's a prime example. Apparently they made Lulu's dress entirely out of belts as a challenge to the animators.

The camera moves up so we can get a nice head shot of her too.

Wakka gives some context on the conversation after coming inside. His brother Chappu joined the Crusaders, and was killed by Sin. Wakka learned the news on the day of the last blitzball tournament, which understandably threw his game off.

In the morning, Wakka presents a gift to Tidus.

This sword is called Brotherhood, and is quite fancy. It was originally meant to be a gift for Chappu, but he never used it. Tidus leaves the village with Yuna's group, as they're going on the same ship.

Well, not quite yet. There's one more thing to grab first. See my comment above about how it's really important to pick stuff up the first time around.

No, I don't get it either.

Once that's done, the group stops to pray at the monument above town. Chappu didn't pray at it the day he left. While making their way back to the coast, we get some more random encounters.

Flying fiends are Wakka's speciaility. They have a big evasion bonus vs. melee, but Wakka's ball can hit them with no problems.

This slime monster looks dangerous, though. Its amorphous body gives it strong resistance to physical attacks.

Time to call in our black mage. Lulu uses these adorable little plushies as weapons and as focuses for her magic. Many are references to other Final Fantasy creatures, like the moogle up there. She also takes the time to explain this game's element system. Fire and ice oppose each other, as do lightning and water. This blob is water based, so...

Zap! Problem solved.

Tidus runs a bit ahead of everyone else when we reach the next area...

And runs into this furry guy, who we saw at the temple earlier. He doesn't take kindly to Tidus and attacks. The two trade blows for a bit, until everyone else comes in and puts a stop to it.

He's another one of Yuna's guardians. He doesn't talk much, and can't be used as a party member yet, but he will be later.

I know this post is already overloaded with screenshots but really, check out the view here.

Anyway, upon encountering a large flying fiend, Wakka decides that rather than handling it himself, he lets Yuna try out her summoning. You can swap party members in and out at any time during a battle.

Time to see what our aeon can do. By using the Summon command, Yuna calls Yvonne to the field. All other party members disappear while the aeon is summoned.

Yvonne can use standard attacks, cast black magic much like Lulu, and has the Sonic Wings special which deals damage and delays the opponent's turn.

Much like players, aeons have their own Overdrive bar too. That's what picking up the thing from the dog was all about. In this case though, I decided that her first Overdrive, Energy Ray, was enough for this fight.

She charges up a laser in her mouth, then fires it at the ground.

Then, explosions. Perfect for taking out any irritating fiends.

One last encounter to show here. In this case each character is up against the type of fiend they're specialized against. You want to have Tidus hit the wolf thing, Wakka go for the flyer, and Lulu cast Thunder on the blob, and they're finished off easily.

All of our other party members have their own places on the Sphere Grid, and they gain S.Lvls and spheres the same way Tidus does. Tidus learned a new ability too: Flee, which guarantees escape from any non-boss fight. Some say that fleeing from battles is cowardly, but it's still handy to use in a pinch.

Oh, by the way, that Rod of Wisdom we found? It's a weapon for Yuna. It gives a good magic boost and the Sensor ability, allowing her to show enemy HP and traits. When not using aeons, Yuna acts as our white mage, giving out heals and buffs when needed.

One last thing to grab as we hit the beach. This is a component for a postgame weapon for Yuna. I don't know if I'll get into the postgame for this LP, but it's good to have anyway.

Yuna and her crew board the ship. Yuna waves goodbye to the villagers as they set off.

#mezzo's screenshot lps #final fantasy x

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voyagerafod · 7 years

Text

Star Trek Voyager: A Fire of Devotion: Part 3 of 4: Sweeter Than Heaven: Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

The silence was getting to be too much for Chakotay, but he couldn’t blame anyone other than himself. It had been his idea after all to choose three crew members who’d had no time in Delta Flyer for this away mission after all. It just never occurred to him that none of the three had any particular desire to learn how to fly it. Chell simply complained about the cramped quarters, despite the Maquis ship he’d served on with Chakotay having been much more compact inside despite being a bigger ship. Vorik cared more about the engines than the helm. Lydia Anderson simply waited patiently for an opportunity to test out the Borg enhanced weapons systems Tom and Seven had designed, but that looked decreasingly likely.

Eventually, getting to be too much became too much. “We’re still hours away from contact with Voyager,” Chakotay said. “I don’t suppose anyone has any ideas to pass the time?”

“Not really, no,” Chell said. “Unless everyone’s okay with me playing some Bolian music again.” “No thanks,” Lydia said. “It was great the first three times, but if I hear a song too many times in a row, even a good one, I start to hate it.” “There is logic to that,” Vorik said. “I believe the human term for that is ‘too much of a good thing?’” “We could always try poker,” Chakotay said, even though he doubted any of the others knew how to play.

“Never played it,” Lydia said. “Honestly. I don’t mean that in the ‘I’ll pretend to be ignorant to lull you into a false sense of security and win’ kind of way.”

“I love poker,” Chell said. “I played it a lot with my friends in the colonies before I signed up with the Maquis. Only won half the time though. Guess I don’t have a good po- Oh dear.” “What is it?” Chakotay asked, wondering why Chell suddenly looked startled. “Oh hell,” Lydia said, suddenly sitting at attention. Both of them, and now Vorik too were staring out the Flyer’s viewport. Chakotay turned around, and saw, close enough for visual confirmation, a Borg cube heading straight towards them.

Oh shit, he thought. “Beginning evasive maneuvers. Anderson, get the weapons on-line. Chell, try sending a distress call to Voyager.”

The cube began firing at the Flyer, but missed wildly, almost as if it were a warning shot. Chakotay also noticed that the cube looked damaged as he brought the Flyer around to try and get away from the cube. “Why didn’t our sensors detect them?” Chell said. “The Borg aren’t exactly known for stealth.” “It would appear they used a dispersal field to mask their approach,” Vorik said. That had Chakotay worried. Chell was right, the Borg did not typically use stealth. Or ever, as far as he knew. If the Borg were starting to use more creative tactics in their expansion…

“We just took a hit to our plasma injectors,” Anderson said. “We can’t go to warp.” “Vorik, get below, see what you can do.” “Aye sir,” the Vulcan engineer said as he exited the cabin. “Sir,” Anderson said, “the cube's power output is fluctuating.”

“Then we have a chance,” Chakotay said. “I’m bringing us about. Lydia, target their propulsion matrix.”

“What good will that do?” Chell said.

“Look at that cube, Chell,” Chakotay said. “It’s a mess, and it isn’t regenerating. Their weapons fire is badly targeted. What hits they’ve gotten in on us so far have been lucky shots. If the cube is hurt bad enough, that means we might be able to disable them and get away.”

Chakotay brought the Flyer in close to the cube, the shuttle mere meters away from the Borg’s hull. “Fire torpedoes,” he said. “We’ve taken out their propulsion systems,” Lydia said. “The cube is moving solely on inertia now.”

“Good,” Chakotay said. “I’m getting us out of-” The ship shuddered.

“They’ve got us in a tractor beam,” Chell said, panic creeping into his voice.

“Vorik, do we have warp power?” “Two additional relays were damaged in the attack,” Vorik said. “I am unable to-” The sound of a small explosion cut him off, and Chakotay feared the worst. “Vorik, report,” he said. No response. The lights in the Delta Flyer dimmed, and the familiar, emotionless, multi-track resonant voice of the Borg Collective filled the small vessel.

"We are the Borg. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance is futile."

As Chakotay watched, feeling helpless to do anything, a massive hatch opened on the side of the cube as the tractor beam pulled them in.

---

Chakotay awoke in a room that he recognized from looking at schematics of Borg vessels as an assimilation chamber. Surprisingly, he was still himself. He looked around and saw that the other three were too. Vorik had some minor burns on his hands, but nothing severe. He carefully woke them up, and soon all four of them were on their feet, looking around.

“Sir?” Chell said. Chakotay and the others turned to see what the Bolian was looking at. A dead Borg drone lie on a table. The drone looked about as beat up as the cube itself had. Whatever had hurt this cube had done a number on it, that was beyond dispute.

“There’s a force field around this room,” Chakotay said. “But they haven’t assimilated us yet, so if we stay calm there’s a chance we can get out of this. Vorik, how are your hands?”

Vorik looked at them, and flexed the fingers. If he felt any pain when he did so, his face did not show it, but with a Vulcan that wasn’t a guarantee that he didn’t.

“Some minor irritation. Mostly an itching sensation. My motor skills appear unimpeded.” “Good to hear,” Chakotay said, finding some assimilation tools on the table with the drone. He picked one up and handed it to Vorik. “Let’s see about getting that force field down.”

--- “Their ion trail ends directly ahead,” Tuvok said. Captain Janeway was about to ask Tuvok to search for any signs of debris or weapons fire, but Harry Kim spoke up first. “I’m detecting another vessel,” he said, “bearing 30 mark 112. It’s a Borg cube.”

Janeway stood up. “Red alert. Alter course to intercept,” she said. She had managed to rescue someone from the Borg before, and that was before Seven of Nine had shared her theory about the Borg degradation. A small part of her thought that she was being reckless, and taking it for granted that the Borg weren’t the threat they had been mere years before, but she ignored it. “Adjust shields to rotating frequencies. Have they detected us?”

“Unclear,” Tuvok said. “The vessel is holding position.” “As soon as we’re within life sign sensor range start scanning for the away team,” Janeway said.

“Their propulsion system is off-line,” Seven of Nine said from the auxiliary tactical console, where she had been since the search for the Delta Flyer began. “The damage is not that severe, the drones should’ve repaired it by now. In fact, the cube should’ve detected us by now. It must be damaged worse than it appears.” “On screen,” Janeway said. The image of the cube appeared in front of her, and right away she could tell that not only was Seven right, she was actually understating it. She had seen intact cubes, and cubes that had been reduced to rubble, but never anything in the middle of those two extremes until now. “Any sign of our people?” she said to Harry.

“Not yet,” he said. A half-second later, Voyager shuddered as the ship was hit with weapons fire from the cube.

“They are targeting our warp core,” Tuvok said. “Shields are holding.” Shields are holding, Janeway thought. That’s not usually a phrase we use when fighting the Borg. “Return fire. Aim for their weapons array.” The ship shuddered as another wave of weapons fire hit. “Now they’re going after our impulse engines,” Harry said, sounding perplexed. “Not doing a very good job of it though.” Another shudder. “That one was meant for our sensors. Are their targeting scanners off-line? A Pakled could do a better job of shooting us.” “No need for exaggeration, Lieutenant,” Janeway said.

“Their attack strategy is erratic, inefficient,” Seven said. “And finished,” Tuvok said. “We have disabled their weapons.” “They must be in worse shape than they look,” Janeway said. “I’m picking up four life signs,” Harry said. “Non-Borg. I think it’s our crew. They don’t appear to have been assimilated yet.”

“Try to get a transporter lock,” Janeway said.

“What’s left of their shields are interfering,” Harry said. “Target the generator and fire,” Janeway said. “Captain,’ Seven said, “I believe I can explain the unusual behavior of these Borg. There should be thousands manning this vessel, yet I’m picking up only five signatures.” The Borg cube hailed Voyager, and gave their usual spiel about resistance being futile, but unlike other times where that standard Borg greeting had filled Janeway with dread, grim determination, or both, it rang hollow to her ears. Five drones, running a ship that big? Even with Borg intelligence that had to be a remarkable strain.

“Their shield generators are too deep inside the vessel to target,” Tuvok said. Janeway frowned. If this had been a trap of some sort set by the Borg Queen, there was a greater than fair chance it would’ve been sprung by now. Something else was going on here, and she wanted to know what.

“Open a channel,” she said. “Borg vessel, this is the starship Voyager. You’re holding our crewmen. We’re willing to cease firing if you return them.”

“Negotiation is irrelevant. You will be assimilated.”

“Not today, and not by you. Agree, or I’ll resume firing.”

“They are scanning us,” Tuvok said. Only a second passed before the Borg spoke up again. “We will return your crew members in exchange for specific pieces of technology.” “What the heck?” Harry said.

“What technology?” Janeway said, surprised by the request.

“Your navigational deflector. Disengage it from your secondary hull.” “Mute audio,” Janeway said. “If we surrender our deflector we’ll be all but dead in space. Any faster than a crawl and we risk a micro-meteor rupturing the hull. What would they want with it?”

“Their communications array was damaged,” Seven said. “Their link to the collective was severed. They intend to adapt our deflector to regain it.”

“Yeah, we’re not doing that,” Janeway said. “We need to stall them until we can find another way out of this.” She motioned to Tuvok to reopen the channel, and she began speaking to the Borg again. “I’ll consider the exchange, but first I want to be certain that my crew members are unharmed and alive.” “You have scanned our vessel,” the Borg said. “Our scans were inconclusive,” Janeway said. “We want to see them for ourselves.” “You may transport one individual,” the Borg said. Janeway turned to face Seven, and nodded. “Are you certain?” Seven said. “Yes,” Janeway said, and she believed it. Under any other circumstance she wouldn’t have even considered sending Seven of Nine over to a Borg ship again, but this was a unique situation. Perhaps even an opportunity, but she was keeping that idea to herself for now. Seven nodded herself before heading for the turbolift.

---

Seven of Nine beamed aboard the damaged cube and began walking around. Apart from a single dead drone, she didn’t see any sign of activity anywhere. Many lights in the corridors were flickering or burnt out completely. She entered one corridor, still searching for the missing crew, and found more dead drones. She took out a tricorder and scanned one of them.

“Proceed to Grid 63, Subjunction 1,” the voice of the Collective said. Over the ship’s internal speakers, not to her. It was as though the drones on this ship did not recognize one of their own, not even a former one. She closed her tricorder, intending to look at the data it collected later, and headed in the direction she was told, hoping to find Chakotay and the others.

She arrived at the destination and was shocked at what she found there; a Borg neonatal unit, an infant still inside one of the chambers. She heard a noise behind her. She turned, hand going to the phaser on her belt, but stopped when she saw five children. Five assimilated children. At least one of them appeared to have been very recently taken, as she still had her hair. The other four were boys. A set of twins, and two more who were taller than them and the girl. “State your designation,” the voice of the Collective said.

“Seven of Nine,” Seven said, moving towards the children. “These drones have not fully matured. Where are the others?” “There are no others. The drones aboard this vessel were-” “-deactivated,” the second tallest of the boys said aloud, stepping forward. The voice of the Collective was fading. “We are the Borg.”

This is going in the “I did not see that coming” file, Seven thought. “Seven of Nine,” the second-tallest said. “A Borg designation.” “She is like us,” the girl said. “Not like us,” the tallest boy said, walking towards her now, head tilted in a very human-like display of curiosity. “She is damaged. Her infrastructure has been removed.” “We could fix her,” the girl said. “You will add to our perfection,” the tallest said. “You are neonatal drones,” Seven said, not feeling the slightest bit of concern that these drones could actually do anything to her. If anything, she was starting to feel insulted by the way they spoke about her. She was also aware of the irony of that feeling, given how often she had spoken in such terms about herself and her crewmates when she had first been brought on to Voyager’s crew. “You should still be in maturation chambers.” “We have matured long enough,” second-tallest said. Seven decided that rolling her eyes would be pushing her luck. Instead, she stuck to basic facts, hoping to quickly get them out of her so she could find Chakotay and the others. “Doubtful,” she said. “Your thoracic nodes haven’t formed yet. You’re incomplete. You’ll continue to malfunction. You must return to your maturation chambers”

“We tried to go back in,” the tallest said. “The chambers were off-line.” “What happened to the adult drones?” Seven asked. “We don’t know,” one of the twins said. “Irrelevant,” second-tallest said, sounding belligerent. Seven was sure he was going to be a problem. Seven went over to a nearby console and began manipulating the controls. “This vessel has been severely damaged,” she said. “You won’t be able to repair it alone. I can help you, but first, you must release the hostages.”

“That wasn’t the agreement,” second-tallest said. “I’ve modified the agreement,” Seven said in a firm tone of voice. These Borg children weren’t acting like drones. Already one of them, the second-tallest, was clearly trying to assert dominance. She didn’t like the idea of getting into what her human crewmates would call a ‘pissing contest,’ but she also knew that if she didn’t these incomplete drones could present a problem later. “I didn’t realize I’d be dealing with children. Your behavior is erratic. I can’t be certain that you-” “No modifications,” second-tallest said. Seven quietly hoped to herself that Naomi would not act in such a fashion once she hit puberty, as she’d heard unpleasant stories of how humans, even half-humans, acted during their teenage years. “We show you the hostages, you give us the deflector.”

Less than five minutes with this kid and I already want to punt him through the bulkhead, she thought.

“Comply,” second-tallest said forcefully. Seven didn’t respond, verbally or non-verbally. She simply stood there and stared at him. He stepped forward, shoving the girl aside. “Comply!”

She stared for another few seconds, and the child drones made no more threatening moves. If they were capable of harming her, they would’ve done so already. Second-tallest was posturing, nothing more. “Take me to them,” she said. The children cleared a path for her, the girl taking the lead and the tallest falling in behind her as she walked.

Before she fully exited the chamber, however, Second-tallest said to the tallest; “If she tries to resist, assimilate her.”

I’d like to see you try, she thought. As the three of them walked down another corridor, this one so cluttered with dead drones that stepping over them slowed their progress, Seven decided to start speaking to the tallest boy.

“Do you have a designation?” “Second,” the boy said. “You were the second to exit the maturation chamber,” Seven said.

“No. The first. I could not establish order. I became second… and he became first.” “So you’ve established a chain of command,” Seven said. “A hierarchy.” “We’re a collective,” the girl said. “A collective of five, on a vessel normally run by five thousand,” Seven said. “What makes you think you’ll survive?”

“When we reestablish our link with the Borg,” Second said, “they will come for us.” Seven raised an eyebrow. Years ago she wouldn’t have doubted that was true. In fact, years ago it had been true, such as a time when as a drone her ship had crashed and there had only been three survivors beside herself, and the Borg had come for them after a short time. However, since then, she had personally witnessed several Borg ships badly damaged or destroyed, with no sign that the Collective even noticed let alone sent other ships to retrieve any salvageable technology or drones.

Second and the girl got ahead of Seven. Had she wanted to, she easily could’ve given them the slip at this juncture. They were poor escorts. She followed them regardless however, as she was going where they were anyway.

The children eventually stopped in front of an assimilation chamber with a force field around the door. Seven could see Chakotay and the others inside, all surprised to see her, except for Vorik of course. “I wish to see if they are injured,” Seven said to the children. Without saying a word, the force field dropped, and she stepped inside.

“Seven?” Chakotay said. “Are you injured?” Seven said, taking out her tricorder. “Nothing serious,” Chakotay said. Seven noticed something in the corner of her eye, and she looked down at the dead drone on the table. She realized something was wrong with this one. “This appears to have been a failed attempt at assimilation,” she said. “Ugh, that’s creepy,” Chell said.

“We were trying to perfect our assimilation technique,” Second said. “You failed,” Seven said, repulsed by what she was seeing. “One of the captives was attempting to disable the security field,” the girl said. “That is standard procedure for captives,” Seven of Nine said to the girl. She turned to Chakotay. “That may not be necessary now, however. The Borg are prepared to negotiate for your release. I will return shortly.” Seven stepped out into the corridor, the security field going back up behind her. “The deflector array,” Second said. “I am not authorized to give you technology,” Seven said. “I must return to Captain Janeway to report on the status of the hostages.”

Second looked unsure, but agreed. “I must also take an adult drone and a data node back to Voyager for analysis.”

“Why?” the girl said.

“Something happened to this cube that none of us understand,” Seven said, “If it happens again it could endanger all of you.”

Second simply nodded. Seven worried for a moment that second-tallest, or First as she supposed she should call him now, might respond negatively enough to harm Second and the girl, but she pushed those thoughts aside. The mission had to take priority.

---

Captain Janeway entered sickbay, Tuvok following close behind. The Doctor was scanning the dead drone Seven of Nine had brought back with her, while Seven herself stood off to the side. “What have we learned from our friend here?” Janeway said.

“The bigger they come,” The Doctor said, closing his medical tricorder, “the harder they fall.” He walked over to a nearby console and called up images of his scans. “Behold the David that slew our Goliath.”

“A pathogen?” Janeway said, surprised at what she saw. “A spaceborne virus that adapted to Borg physiology. It’s inert now, but in its virulent state it attacked the drones and killed them.” “Why weren’t the juveniles infected?” Tuvok asked. “The maturation chamber is designed to protect developing drones,” Seven said. “Malfunctions caused by the deaths of the adults lead several of the chambers to open prematurely.”

“Does this pathogen only target the Borg?” Tuvok asked.

“The Borg, and any other cybernetic organisms it encounters,” The Doctor said. “The transport bio-filters did prevent Seven from being infected, so we don’t need to worry there.” “Speaking of Seven, is this pathogen related to that virus that affected her last year? The one that that Captain Ven and his people developed?” Janeway said. “Not as far as I can tell,” the Doctor said. “If this virus was created in a lab, it was done by someone far more advanced than that species was. I hope you aren’t thinking of using this as a biological weapon.” Janeway understood where the Doctor was coming from. Even after Wolf 359 the idea of using biological weapons against the Borg had caused outrage at Starfleet Medical. She wasn’t a big fan of the idea herself, but that wasn’t exactly why she wasn’t planning to go along with what she was certain Tuvok was about to suggest.

“If we could revive the pathogen, and reintroduce it,” Tuvok said, “we could neutralize the drones without harming the away team.”

“Captain, these are children we’re talking about here,” the Doctor said.

“Need I remind you that these ‘children’ have committed murder themselves in their futile attempt to assimilate others?” Tuvok said. “Seven,” Janeway said, “tell me something. You saw them, talked to them. Do you think they’ll kill the hostages if we don’t give them what they want?”

Seven seemed to ponder that question for a moment. “Yes,” she said, but Janeway sensed a ‘but’ in there. “You don’t sound quite so sure.” “I believe that the drone calling itself First would be willing to do so. But the five have not formed a true collective. They have a hierarchy. It’s possible that First’s authority could be undermined, though in that event he may attempt to kill the hostages himself.” “One immature drone against two trained Starfleet officers and two ex-Maquis?” Janeway said. “My money would be on the hostages in that fight. Doctor, we’ll keep the pathogen as an option, but I will not use it until I’ve met these child drones myself. Seven, come with me. You’re going back to that cube, and I’m joining you.”

Seven nodded, and she followed Janeway to the transporter room. Once aboard the cube, Seven quickly led Janeway to the maturation chambers.

“Why are you here?” The one called First said angirly. “I wanted to make a new proposal,” Janeway said. “We have already negotiated,” First said, walking around Janeway in a transparent attempt to appear intimidating. “You’ve seen the hostages. Now give us the deflector, as we agreed.” “Maybe it’s hard for you to accept,” Janeway said, “but you don’t have to rejoin the hive. Our Doctor can remove your implants; you can come with us. You were individuals yourselves not long ago. Children, with families. You were abducted. Assimilated.” Janeway looked at the one Seven had identified as Second. “I recognize your species. You’re Brunali.” She looked at the little girl. “And you’re Norcadian. Do you remember your world?” “A theta-class planetoid,” the girl said. “Population: 260 Million. Binary suns.”

“And what did it look like when those suns set each night?” Janeway said. So far she was pleased with how this was going. It was going better than expected in fact, as First had not interrupted her once so far. “Can you remember that?” “Irrelevant!” First yelled. Never mind, Janeway thought.

“The deflector. Now.” “We need more time,” Janeway said, not actually caring if First bought it or not. She was sure that she and Seven could easily overpower the kid, even with all his Borg tech. “That deflector array is essential to-” “No,” First said, his voice filled with panic. He lunged forward, shoving Janeway against a console, his arm pressing into her neck. Seven moved to try and free her, but walked face first into a force field. First had been smarter and quicker than Janeway had given him credit for, low though that bar may have been. “Give it to us.”

“Or what? You’ll assimilate me? That won’t solve your problem. You’ll gain my knowledge and you’ll know exactly why parting with the deflector isn’t such an easy proposition.”

“Then what use are you to us?” First said. “Maybe we can help repair your technology,” Janeway said. “Clarify,” First said, pulling back his arm.

“Seven knows a good deal about Borg systems,” Janeway said.

“You have two hours,” First said. “I don’t know the extent of the damage. It could take longer,” Seven said. “Two hours!” First yelled, close enough to Janeway’s face to make her flinch. “Or your hostages die.” First backed away, allowing Janeway to rejoin Seven. “Don’t come back here Captain,” First added, his tone more like that a petulant child than a Borg, but that was not a surprise to Janeway at this point.

---

Janeway left the transporter room to head for the bridge, and nearly walked right into Samantha Wildman as a result. The Ensign did not seem too happy, and Janeway didn’t have to ask why. “Is she still on the cube?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Janeway said. “She’s buying us more time.”

“To do what, exactly?” Sam said. “Best case, to get our people back safe and sound, and to give a home to five very scared children.” “Children?” Sam said. “You didn’t know?” “I wasn’t briefed on all the details, Captain. I only know what I’ve overheard. I know that most of the drones over there are dead from some virus, and the rest are desperate enough to resort to negotiation.”

“Walk with me, Sam,” Janeway said, heading for the turbolift. She tried to make it quick as possible as she only needed to go one deck up, and the lift wasn’t far, but she managed to give Samantha the basic idea of what was going on on the cube. Any fear that Sam had for Seven’s safety evaporated and was replaced with sadness for the Borg children. “I hope we can help them, Captain,” Sam said. “I do too,” Janeway said, stepping out onto the bridge. The door closed behind her, Samantha not following her which made the next thing she was about to say slightly easier. “I bought us two hours. The pathogen?”

“It should be ready by then,” Tuvok said. “Did you see the away team?” Harry said. “I’m afraid not,” Janeway said. “Man,” Tom said, “Borg are bad enough but Borg teenagers? I bet even the Hirogen would want to steer clear of that.” “Seven assured me our people haven’t been harmed,” Janeway said. “Hopefully she can keep it that way. We’re not dealing with standard drones here. Mature drones are predictable. They either ignore you or assimilate you. These drones we’re dealing with now, they get pissed, make demands, but they also make mistakes. I’m hoping that can work to our advantage.”

“They are contemptuous of authority. Convinced they are superior,” Tuvok said. “Like I said,” Tom said. “Teenagers.”

---

Seven of Nine worked on the console First had assigned her to, trying hard not to let the indignity of being ordered around by someone almost young enough to be her child get to her. Second interrupted her. “I have brought the technology you requested,” he said.

“Thank you,” Seven said.

“You were a drone for 18 years,” Second said.

“Correct,” Seven said, wondering how Second knew that.

“I accessed your datafile,” Second said. “Why?” Seven said. “I thought it might be relevant,” Second said, though he sounded unsure.

Seven listened. Turning Second over to her side would probably be the best chance to deal with First and rescue the hostages safely. “What else did you learn?”

“You were assimilated as a juvenile, like us,” Second said. “My parents were scientists studying the Borg,” Seven said. “They took me with them. My childhood was short.”

“Childhood?” “The years between birth and physical maturity. When humanoids adapt to their roles as individuals. Perhaps you have memory of yours.”

“I don’t know,” Second said. “What about your parents? Do you remember them?”

“No,” Second voice, his voice distorting. “No memories.” “Your subvocal processor is malfunctioning,” Seven said. “I can repair it for you. It is a slight adjustment.”

Second flinched when Seven raised the tool that she was going to use to the side of his neck. “It won’t be painful,” she said. “This is no different than when my step-daughter receives a hypo-spray.” “Step-daughter?” Second said. “A child my spouse had with a former partner. I am helping to raise her. Now please hold still.”

“The First told me my malfunction could not be repaired until we reconnected with the Collective,” Second said, the latter few words coming through as clearly as they would through organic vocal chords.

“That is clearly inaccurate,” Seven said, smirking.

Second said nothing for a few moments, then pointed as Seven’s hair. “This color. My mother’s hair was this color.” “I thought we agreed,” First’s voice said, echoing from the opposite end of the corridor, “no irrelevant discussions. What is the punishment for disobeying the protocols?”

“Deactivation,” Second said. Seven was not going to stand for that. “I engaged him in this discussion,” she said.

“Return to your station,” First said to Second. Seven wondered if First had been this insufferable before he’d been assimilated. Second gave her a quick glance, then walked away, silently. First glared at her, and Seven, for the second time in as many hours, was tempted to punch a child.

---

Janeway, sitting behind her desk in her ready room, looked at the PADD that Seven gave her. She had been surprised that Seven was allowed to travel freely back and forth from the cube to the ship, but she wasn’t going to complain. It certainly made keeping secrets from First a lot easier. “I found some unsettling information,” Seven said. “I examined their communication records. The Collective did receive the initial distress call sent out by the cube.” Janeway stood up, ready to order battle stations. “How long before they arrive?” “A vessel was not dispatched,” Seven said. “Come again?” “The Collective declared the neonatal drones irrelevant and severed their link to the hive permanently.” “That seems heartless even by Borg standards. I also have a hard time believing they’d just leave one of their cubes floating around in space for anyone to find. Do you think this is a result of that degradation theory you’ve been talking about?” “Only partially,” Seven said. “Severing links to drones is not unheard of. An entire cube’s worth of drones was cut off in 2369. The aftermath of that severing was dealt with by the crew of the Enterprise-D around Stardate 46982.1.” “Lore and the rogue drones,” Janeway said. “I read the reports on that. Starfleet theorized at the time that what had happened to those drones had happened to the entire Collective. If only, I suppose. Back to the matter at hand though. You’re saying the Collective see these children as unworthy of reassimiliation?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“Are the drones aware of this?” “No,” Seven said. “They don’t have the ability to decrypt the message.” Janeway thought about it for a moment. “Once they learn they’ve been rejected by the hive, they won’t need our deflector. They might be willing to release the hostages.”

“Normally when drones learn they’re irrelevant,” Seven said, “they deactivate themselves. But these children are unpredictable. They may not adhere to Borg protocols.”

“There is another option,” Janeway said. “We could invite them to Voyager. If they realize they have no place else to go…” “If you’re suggesting transforming them into individuals,” Seven said, “that may be inadvisable. You had difficulties with me in that regard, and I was a fully matured drone. I spent five years in a maturation chamber, having my turmoil, the fear I’d experienced watching my parents be assimilated, replaced with order. That order continues to be a source of strength for me, even now.”

“I appreciate your insight, Seven, but I’m not suggesting this lightly. I’m aware of the risks involved, and it’s not like I intend to give them free reign of the ship with full security clearances. Even Naomi can’t go everywhere, and she was born here. It won’t be an easy transition, I have no delusions about that, but that doesn’t mean we can turn our backs on them.” “Not all drones can be saved, Captain,” Seven said. Janeway believed she heard a hint of sadness in her voice. It’s not that she doesn’t want to, she thought, it’s that she doesn’t think we can. I hope she’s wrong.

“Continue repairs on the cube,” Janeway said. “We’ll withhold this information for now. How we tell them is just as if not more important than telling them at all.”

“Understood,” Seven said. She turned to leave but as she reached the door Janeway spoke to her one more time.

“They do have one thing going for them. You. If there’s anyone who can reach them…” Janeway allowed the thought to trail off. Seven nodded, and left the ready room.

---

Seven of Nine walked up to First. “The resonance field has collapsed,” she said. “It’ll take an hour to reinitialize.” She expected First to react under the assumption that this was subterfuge. She was not wrong.

“These delays are intentional,” First said. While Seven had been moving deliberately slowly, the resonance field had in fact collapsed but she doubted that even seeing so with his own eyes, both the organic and implanted ones, would assuage him.

“I’m working as efficiently as I can, but this cube was severely damaged and I am only one individual. Examine my work for yourself if you have doubts.” She handed First her PADD. He looked at it. “This data is flawed,” he said, handing it back.

“More likely it’s your understanding of quadric field theory that is flawed,” Seven said, resisting the urge to punctuate the statement with an insult. She hoped that if Janeway was right and these children could be added to Voyager, that First would quickly calm down. She doubted she would have the patience to deal with him otherwise. She already had a family and duties as a crew member. Baby sitting a rage driven ex-drone was not something she wanted to add to her list of responsibilities.

“Ignore her,” First yelled. Seven glanced to where First was looking at and saw the girl drone looking at them. “She’s trying to divide us.”

“They rely on you,” Seven said. “Yet you lack the skills necessary to ensure their survival.” “We’ve managed so far,” First said, though Seven quickly picked up on the lack of confidence backing that statement. “We’re Borg. You’ve forgotten what that means.”

“The unity of the collective. Common goals. The quest for perfection. I have not forgotten. I also have not forgotten the time and resources wasted on forcing those goals on others against their will through violence. Violence that led to more dead bodies than new drones for the collective. You don’t realize, you don’t need to remain drones to experience those things. And there are things that you simply can’t experience as drones. You may not desire them as individuals, but at least then it would be a choice.” Seven decided to leap straight to the next step, hopeful that she wasn’t pressing her luck. If this worked, she would’ve succeeded well ahead of Captain Janeway’s expectations. “Come with me to Voyager.” “38 minutes,” First said. “You’re wasting time.”

Before Seven could say anything, an alarm went off. The drone children began looking around, visibly nervous. “Another maturation chamber is malfunctioning,” Second said.

First went over to the chamber where the infant Seven had seen when she first came aboard was still floating in the Borg equivalent to amniotic fluid. Seven hadn’t considered it before but looking now she judged from the size of the child that it had likely been in utero when its mother had been assimilated.

First simply looked at it through the chamber’s viewport, apparently unsure what to do, so Seven went to the console. ”Its autonomic nervous system is failing.” The child’s mouth moved, its hands shook. It was clearly in pain. “It’s Borg. It will adapt,” First said. The alarm continued. The girl drone looked at a readout screen. “It’s not adapting,” she said. “Let Seven help.”

After several seconds, First simply stepped away from the console he was using. Seven moved in quickly.

“We can modulate the stasis field to stabilize its functions,” she said. “At least temporarily.” She looked at Second. “Assist me.”

The alarm continued, and the noises coming from her could’ve been described as angry were they coming from a sentient A.I. “The field is degrading,” Seven said, trying to remain calm. “We need to transport it into an incubation pod right away.” She was looking at First, but he simply stood there, but without prompting the twins got to work, and within seconds the baby was beamed out of the fluid of the maturation chamber. Seven went over and opened the pod. The infant was wheezing, struggling for breath, and barely moving. “Why is it doing that?” The girl said, her and the twins having moved closer to Seven and staring at the baby. “Its respiratory system is impaired,” Seven said, “and this incubation pod is malfunctioning. We must transport this infant to Voyager.”

“No,” First said. “The Drone is part of our collective.”

“Not if it dies,” Second said.

-o-

“Doctor to the Captain, please report to sickbay right away,” the Doctor's voice said over Janeway’s com badge as she made her way from the mess hall to the bridge, fresh mug of coffee in hand. “On my way,” she said. As soon as she stepped through the door she asked what the emergency was. “I thought you should see for yourself,” the Doctor said. “Somebody left a bundle on our doorstep.” The Doctor motioned to the small incubator chamber, with a tiny infant inside. I turned around, and there she was, lying on a bio-bed.” “Seven must’ve beamed her here,” Janeway said, looking down at the baby, Borg implants on its head, chest, and right arm. “Good thing too,” the Doctor said. “A few more minutes and I wouldn’t have been able to do anything for her.”

The infant began crying. The Doctor leaned in and picked her up very carefully. He handed her off to Janeway. “Hold her for a moment while I take some readings, please. That won’t be a problem will it?”

“I have a niece Doctor, this is not new to me. It’s just been awhile.” Janeway started moving gently side to side while holding the infant, a move that her sister had taught her years before. The child slowly stopped crying. “Oh,” the Doctor said. “I guess she just wanted to be held.” “They do that sometimes,” Janeway said.

The Doctor finished his scans, put down the tricorder, and picked up a yellow vial. “By the way,” he said, “the pathogen. I finished synthesizing it.”

“Start working with Tuvok to develop a way to deploy the virus,” Janeway said, seeing right through what the Doctor was hoping to accomplish by mentioning it while she held the baby.

“Captain, you don’t seriously plan on using it,” the Doctor said. “It’s not plan A, Doctor,” Janeway said. “But I’ll use it if I have to. If it’s her you’re worried about though, she’ll be safe here on Voyager. Learn all you can from her, Doctor. If the real Plan A works, you’re going to have five new minors with Borg implants to deal with, and they’ll need help.”

---

Seven of Nine was growing impatient. She was afraid that if she spent too much more time with First she would have to apply some of the fighting techniques she’d learned during her Tsunkatse matches to shut him up. If such typical adolescent behavior can test my patience this much now, she thought, then I will need to began preparations for Naomi’s teenage years as soon as possible. At the very least, I’d like to hope that even at her worst Naomi will still be more bearable than First.

“You complain of delays, then you interrupt my work,” she said as she marched into the room where First had summoned her rather rudely. “I demand to know why the infant drone has not yet been returned,” First said. “It is one of us.” “She is still in the Doctor’s care,” Seven said. “You are attempting to deceive us,” First said. “This is just another attempt to remove us all from the Collective.” First motioned for the other children, who had been standing in a group, to move aside, and Seven failed to stop a gasp when she saw the unconscious but breathing body of Ensign Vorik slumped against the bulkhead behind them. His face showed sign of failed assimilation. “Nanoprobes were injected into his bloodstream,” First said. “He won’t survive without medical attention. Medical attention he will be allowed to receive once Captain Janeway has given us Voyager’s deflector.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Seven said, realizing she could no longer drag out her work. “I only need a few more minutes to repair-” “No more delays. No more deceptions. The deflector. Resistance is futile.”

Seven tapped her com badge. ‘Seven of Nine to Voyager,” she said. “What is it, Seven?” Janeway said. Seven summarized the situation, making it clear just how much danger Vorik was in.

“Open visual communication,” First said. Janeway’s face appeared on a nearby monitor. First repeated the demands he’d had Seven give Janeway, then added a loud “Comply!” For punctuation. “Return Ensign Vorik and we’ll talk,” Janeway said.

“We’ve talked enough,” First said. “Your requests are irrelevant. Comply, or we’ll assimilate the others.”

Janeway looked off to her side, then back at the screen. “It will take at least an hour to dismantle the deflector and transport its components-” “Now,” First said.

“I can’t give it to you now. It’s complex technology that is part of our ship. We can’t simply remove it, and no amount of threats can change that. How easily would you be able to give us your cube’s shield generators if the situation were reversed?”

That seemed to give First pause, though Seven figured he was merely attempting to calculate how long that would take, and if the time were less than an hour, he’d likely throw that in Janeway’s face in a sad attempt at what some of her shipmates called a “gotcha” moment.

First cut off communication, and began manipulating controls. Seven saw what he was doing as was horrified; the drone was attempting to use the cube’s tractor beams to tear the deflector off of Voyager.

“Even with Voyager’s deflector,” she said, “your efforts to return to the hive will fail.” “They’ll come for us,” First said. “No, they won’t. The Borg received your message but chose to ignore it. They consider you irrelevant.” “Irrelevant?” the girl said.

“We are damaged,” Second said. “They don’t want us.” “Ignore her,” First said. “It’s another lie.” “Their reply is in data grid 426,” Seven said. “Use decryption protocol theta-3.” Second moved towards the console, presumably to do just that, but First demanded he return to his station. Second looked at First, then at Seven, and back at First. Instead of doing what he’d been told he went to the console anyway, openly defying First. He began manipulating the controls, then stepped back with a look of sadness on his face when he saw the data. “It is another deception,” First said. “She’s manipulating us.”

“The transmission is authentic,” Second said. First grabbed his arm and moved him aside to look at the data himself, frantically manipulating the controls, probably searching for some sign, any sign, that the information had been tampered with.

“It’s a mistake,” First said.

“The collective does not tolerate what it sees as imperfection,” Seven said. “Then we’ll assimilate more species,” First said. “And prove we’re worthy.”

Seven found that statement so ridiculous she struggled to come up with a proper response. She did not need more proof that these drones were immature, yet it kept adding up regardless. “You have no future with the Borg,” she said, “but you do with Voyager.”

The cube shuddered violently under her feet. Second shoved past First and looked at the console. “Voyager is sending a feedback pulse through our tractor beam,” he said. “It’s overloading our shield matrix.”

“Adapt!” First yelled, heading for another console. The other drones did not respond to the demand, appearing unsure what to do now.

Another shudder. “Shields are partially down,” Second said. “Voyager has already beamed three of the hostages away.” Chakotay, Chell, and Anderson, Seven thought. Good. Now I just need to get myself, Vorik, and these kids out of here.

“This section is still shielded,” First said. “Continue adapting to the attack,” he added, so wrapped up in his own work that he failed to noticed that only Second was doing anything, and what he was doing wasn’t all the helpful, merely repeating aloud what the read-outs were telling him.

“Lower your shields,” Seven said, looking at an increasingly panicky FIrst. “Lower your shields! If Voyager cannot beam us off we will be destroyed along with the cube.” First still said nothing, his mouth hanging open, his lip quivering, eyes darting back and forth.

“Fine,” Seven muttered under her breath. She went to the console and started to lower the shields herself. She heard First yell “No!” But didn’t see him charging at her until it was too late. He grabbed her and threw her to the ground hard enough to hurt her shoulder. She’d been hurt worse during Tsunkatse, but she still needed a moment to bring herself back to her feet.

“I have polarized the hull,” First said. “Even if the shields fail they will not be able to get a lock on us.”

“The Delta Flyer,” Vorik said, coughing, and wincing through the pain. “Is still in the hangar bay of this vessel.” “We must get to it,” Seven said. “If the shield matrix explodes it will take the cube with it.” “We must go,” Second said. “No,” First said. “No!” He grabbed a large object off a nearby workbench and screamed as he prepared to bring the object crashing down on Seven’s head, but Second stepped in and stopped the blow, pulling the object away from First and shoving him back.

“Leave her alone,” Second said. “Get back to your station,” First said. “Do what I say.”

“What you say?” Second said. “I thought we were a collective. One mind, one voice.”

“I protected you,” First said, his voice wavering as his authority collapsed, the other drones not just ignoring his commands but now glaring at him. “Gave you order.” “Your order. Your rules,” Second said.

“Their feedback pulse is overloading the induction grids,” Seven said, now standing again, looking at the nearest console. “This vessel will be destroyed. We must evacuate.” “No! Assist me!” First yelled, having moved to another console, right next to the maturation chambers. He turned to continue yelling at the drones when the console exploded behind him. He shuddered as visible electrical currents shot through his body, and he fell over. Seven ran over to check on him, all her anger at him having vanished and been replaced with concern. First lie face down, debris embedded in his back, the exposed skin there burned. She turned him over and his face showed typical signs of electrocution. He was dead, she was certain. Her scans with her tricorder only confirmed it.

“We need to go,” she said, sadness in her voice. “Second, please help me with Vorik. We need to get to the vessel he and the other hostages were on. We can use it to escape.” Second complied without a word, aiding the Vulcan to his feet.

---

Janeway leaned back on her ready room sofa. Vorik had been saved, though his physical recovery from the damage done by the misused Borg nanoprobes would take days, and the Doctor was in process of removing as many of the Borg implants from the four surviving children as he could. The infant, unfortunately, was too small and weak in the Doctor’s opinion; he feared she would not survive the removal process, at least not yet. The aftermath of the incident was not over yet, however. “We’ve sent out calls for any Brunali or Norcadian ships in the area,” Janeway said. “But no responses so far. Either there aren’t any in range, or they just don’t care. Have we identified what species the twins or the infant belong to?” “Not yet,” Seven said. “It could take a long time to find a new home for them,” Janeway said. “They could use that time,” Seven said. “They have a great deal to learn.” “It might help if they had someone around who-” “I already know what you are going to suggest, Captain,” Seven said. “I will do what I can, though I would obviously prefer to minimize the impact that would have on time with my family.”

“Fair enough,” Janeway said, deciding not to call Seven out on interrupting her Captain. This time, anyway. “Perhaps spending some time with Naomi would do the younger ones some good. If both you and Sam are okay with that of course.” “I would recomend that time together be under supervision, at least at first,” Seven said. “I will speak to Samantha about it tonight at dinner.”

“Sounds good,” Janeway said. “The children require time in the alcoves this evening,” Seven said. “I can develop a lesson plan for them while they are, asleep.”

“Okay,” Janeway said. “Dismissed.”

---

“Do we have to regenerate now?” the girl asked Seven of Nine. The four ambulatory children were in the cargo bay, dressed in Federation civilian clothing, their skin no longer pale and the majority of their visible Borg implants gone. Entirely gone in the case of the girl, for whom the only remaining sign of assimilation were some visible but small scars. “Yes,” Seven said, setting thoughts about coincidences aside. “But first, I was able to salvage your assimilation profiles. They include your names and some limited biographical data.” She handed each child a PADD with their relevant data on them.

“Icheb,” the one who had been known as Second said. “My name was Icheb.”

“Your name is Icheb,” Seven said. “I remember now,” Icheb said. “It was my father’s second name.”

The girl spoke up next. “My designation is Mezoti. It- it’s a pretty name.” “Yes,” Seven said. “It is.” She looked at the twins, who read their data with rapt attention. “Azan and Rebi. I will tell you more about them tomorrow morning.” Each Borg child handed Seven back their PADDs without comment, then walked into their respective alcoves, their eyes closing as each alcove’s regeneration cycle kicked in. “Computer, decrease ambient lighting by sixty percent.” She looked at them all. “Good night.” She headed towards the door to the cargo bay, herself not due for a full cycle for another day. As the door opened, she turned and looked at the children again. “Sweet dreams,” she said. She headed out into the corridor, and wondered how Naomi would react to not being the only child on the ship anymore. She doubted the response would be negative, but that still left a number of possibilities.

#a fire of devotion #Part 3 #chapter eight #star trek voyager #fan fic #sam7

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