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horrorslashergirl · 3 years

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Kinky December Day 4: Fireplace Sex with Chromeskull

Authors Note: We spend the fourth day of this event with Chromeskull and it seems this Florida guy hates the cold. Let’s see how Jesse deals with it. I decided to introduce my home country in this piece and share a little of my country with you all. Greetings from Romania! I hope you all have a warm winter.

Chromeskull x Reader- Not the usual Florida heat

Winter was all about the coldness, the pure white snow that fell from the sky, fluffy coats that hugged your body and drinking hot beverages, but that wasn't the case in Florida. You weren't looking forward to decorating a palm tree for Christmas, so you suggested your lover spending this year Christmas in your home country, which he agreed, all for you.

You had to stifle the laugh the first time you got off the plane in Romania and the first cold air that hit your bodies; Jesse was a shivering mess, pulling the black coat closer to his body, the mist of cold air that escaped his mouth with each breath he took.

The whole ride to the cabin you rented for the holiday was spent with Jesse searching for warmness, his body flush against yours in the backseat and the constant signing about how cold it was and something about him freezing his balls.

After five hours of driving, you reached the cabin, Jesse entering the cabin first and setting your and his luggage on the wood floorboards. The cabin was still cold and he had a constant frown on his scarred face, half of which was covered by a scarf.

'It's freezing cold inside.' Jesse signed with shaky fingers and you rolled your eyes at his bickering.

"Of course it's cold. We have to start making the fire, big baby." You told him as you waltzed into the living room, pulling your scarf off and coat, stretching your arms above your head. The cabin was very cozy and it was so good to be finally back in Romania, Jesse on the other hand? Not that much.

There was also another problem, the lack of firewood and you knew that the next words that will leave your mouth will make Jesse want to go back to Florida with the next plane.

"You will have to go outside and get wood for the fire." you told him and he gave you a simple look that said 'Are you kidding me?'.

"The ax is outside on the front porch. Good luck, stud." You told him, hiding the smirk that formed on your face as you heard the front door open and shut with a bang.

Jesse was a southern guy in all ways possible, spending all his life in the Floridian heat, so being dragged into your country when the winter was in full blast wasn't exactly something he enjoyed, but you knew he was doing all this for you and that made you happy. Looking around you decided that you should start decorating the cabin and make it homely.

You were grinning in victory when you found the Christmas decorations in a closet; as you were putting the shiny globes on the empty Christmas tree in the living room you heard the front door open, something being dropped on the floor and the door closed with a bang. Peeking your head in the hallway, you saw some wood by the front entrance.

It was a silent request: Start making the fire while I get more wood so my dick won't be transformed into a popsicle.

You quickly started to make the fire in the living room by the fireplace, your eyes shining as the bright flames came alive, the warmness kissing your cold hands.

After one more hour, you looked around the now Christmas decorated living-room; Christmas tree beautifully shining with lights and all kinds of decorations, the flames dancing in the fireplace. Next, it was the food; you skipped into the kitchen and mentally thanked your friend for taking their time to come and bring the food, the fridge full of all you needed to cook.

You decided to make something homely, something traditional. One of the Romanian dishes that best represent the Balkan influence is the popular sarmale, stuffed cabbage or vine leaves with a mix of rice, minced meat, onion, tomatoes, and herbs. A favorite for most Romanians, this dish is usually served with cream and polenta and is a sure presence on all Christmas tables across the country. You also grinned wickedly when you found a certain bottle in one of the cabinets in the kitchen. Traditional spirit with approx. 40% alcohol, made from the distillation of plums. Its stronger alternative is Palinca or Țuică, usually prepared in Northern Romania (Ardeal county), distilled twice and made from different sorts of fruits.

Jesse loved fine liquor, so the thought of him taking a sip of this would be interesting; it was a strong drink and the note on the bottle made you giggle.

'A little treat before having fun.'

Back on cooking, next, it was Cozonac, a kind of Stollen made from leavened dough, into which milk, eggs, sugar, butter, and other ingredients are mixed together before baking. You decided to make it with almonds. After putting it in the oven, you decided that the last on the list would be a traditional warm soup, knowing Jesse will need something to put the coldness away.

You started to make meatball soup, a traditional Romanian sour soup with said meatballs consisting of pork and rice. They are seasoned with parsley, lovage, salt, borş, and sour cream.

Whipping your hands you were looking proud at the table filled with the warm Romanian cuisine, and just like the time couldn't be more perfect, you heard the front door open, a gust of cold wind and snow coming into the hallway.

You walked there to see Jesse covered in snow and shaking like a Chihuahua, and you giggled, making your behemoth lover glare at you and you knew if you were a piggy the ax he was holding in his gloved hand would be impaled straight in the center of your forehead.

'I hate winter. I hate the snow. Romania is cruel.' he signed, pulling his snow-covered coat, scarf, and hat off. Your eyes noticed the pile of wood by the door and you smiled warmly at Jesse, walking towards him and resting your hands on his chest, nuzzling into his cold chest, the turtleneck he was sporting didn't help much to keep him warm.

"I cooked for us. It's all warm." you whispered into his chest, rubbing his sides to get the coldness away.

'Finally. I'm starving. Chopping piggies heads off is much funnier, than chopping wood.' he signed, following you into the kitchen and you rolled your eyes.

Typical Jesse.

Brown eye widened as you entered the kitchen with him, the smell of delicious food hitting his nose, it was much warmer here from the oven constantly working up from your cooking.

Filling two small glasses with , you offered him one and he looked at it suspiciously.

"I'm not gonna poison you, idiot." you told him with a smirk making him snort.

You both raised the small glasses in salute and drowned the drink; you were used to the strong alcohol, but Jesse? You laughed as you watched him cough, looking at you like you were crazy.

"Stronger than whiskey, huh?" you asked Jesse all smugly.

'It's very good, but....How do you Romanians live drinking it?' he signed, making you giggle.

'By the way. Drinking isn't supposed after eating?' he asked you and you shake your head.

"Not this one, baby. Normally, Țuică is only consumed before the meal." you explained then offered a seat for him at the table, first serving him the warm soup, which he eats eagerly, probably starved from all the wood chopping and cruel weather outside.

Cruel for him of course.

Next was the second dish, which he looked at with confusion.

"Go ahead, take a bite." you urged him, continuing to eat your own meal.

You were ready to get another portion of sarmale, but your eyes widened when you saw that the big bowl was empty. Looking at Jesse you saw him lean into the chair, a content look on his face, rubbing his stomach.

"You eat all of them." you said, almost dumbfounded.

'It was delicious, doll. How come you haven't cooked these meals for me before?' he asked, filling his glass with the traditional Romanian liquor that he seemed to get accustomed to.

"I didn't think you would like them that much." you whispered and he simply smirked, shrugging.

'So? What else you got for me?' he signed, ready to eat more.

"I didn't think I would have to feed a lion, but we still got some dessert." you told him, offering the plate of cozonac to him.

He took a small bite of the good and his brown eye lit up, getting the plate from your hands and eating all of the pieces. After he was done, he closed his eye and sighed silently, his stomach full and feeling like he was in heaven.

"Geez, all Americans are big gluttons?" you sassily asked with a raised eyebrow, amused to say the last, but also very proud of your cooking.

Jesse opened his eye and gave you a lop-sided smirk.

'Everything that you do is delicious, baby girl....Including your own little self.' he signed, licking his lips as he gave you a not very discreet look that made you blush.

"Well, I'm glad you aren't bickering about the cold anymore, but I have to wash the dishes." you told him, getting from the chair and walking to the sink, only for a pair of strong arms to wrap around your waist, pulling your body flush against Jesse.

"Jesse?" you called on to him, only feeling his lips leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, his face nuzzling into your hair, the embrace you were trapped tightening.

'I want more dessert.' he signed in front of you, turning you around and backing you into the living room, his eyes on the fireplace and he pulled away from you to put more logs to keep the cabin all warm and cozy.

'Come here, doll. Come to daddy.' he signed, beckoning you over to him, which you happily did.

You could never deny him anything, not Jesse. He did so many things for you, treating you like a princess, making sure you had no worries, that you were always smiling. Walking over to him, you pressed your lips against his, your hands moving up and down his chest, while his own were cupping your asscheeks through your black leggings.

Tongues rubbed against each other, loving how you both tasted, how delicious you were. Teeth nipped at his lower lip and he let out a silent growl that vibrated through your mouth. The next thing you knew, you found yourself on your back on the soft, fluffy rug in front of the fireplace with Jesse between your legs.

He looked down at you with a mischievous smirk.

'Since I'm a guest in Romania, I should get the full-on experience, sugartits.' he signed deviously and you chuckled, starting to kiss his neck, your hands moving under his black turtleneck and over his chest, your cold hands making him shiver and jump slightly.

'Fuck....You're so cold.' he signed, resting his forehead against yours as your thumb grazed one of his nipples.

"Mhmm....You know I have bad circulation. You weren't bickering about it back in Florida." you commented, making him snort, one of his hands moving under your leggings to pinch your buttcheek, a squeal leaving your lips.

He didn't waste another moment with signing, tugging on your sweatshirt off along with your leggings and socks, leaving you in only black matching lingerie.

"Hey....You're way too overdressed here." you whined, making Jesse chuckle silently against your collarbone, his hands moving behind you to unclasp your bra, nipples hardening as you felt the tickle of the flames kiss your skin which was so sensitive from all the teasing.

Your hands found the edge of Jesse's turtleneck and tugged it up, exposing inked skin, your fingers running over the intricate designs, admiring every detail that he had to offer.

"You're so handsome." you whispered; God, he loved you so much.

Jesse never thought that he would ever spend Christmas with a beloved one ever again, not with the face he had, but you proved him wrong and he felt like this was all a dream and he was afraid he was going to wake up. he couldn't bear the idea of losing you.

He has pulled away from the dark thoughts when you cupped his scarred cheek, looking up at him with a longing look on your face.

"Jesse.....mae love to me." you whispered, giving him an innocent look from under your eyelashes.

He felt all his restraints leave him; he couldn't control himself when you looked at him like that. Lips crashed into yours in a needy kiss, his hands working on his black cargo pants and socks, pulling every layer of clothing off. Finally, his hands tugged on the waistband of your panties, pulling the last piece of clothing that separated both of you.

You shivered when you felt his intimidating length brush against your inner thigh, his big hands cupping your ass, loving how small you were compared to him, all the power dynamic between you two was making all the blood rush straight to his cock.

"You're everything I've ever wanted," you whispered against his neck, your teeth grazing his Adam apple.

Jesse tightened his grip on your skin, brown gaze looking down at you and when you tightened your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, his cock flush against your already dripping pussy, he felt like he would almost come undone; the effects you were having on him were making him feel like a virgin teenager.

One hand moved between your legs, running his palm over your slit, his face into the crock of your neck inhaling in your sweet scent; you were just so perfect and when he guided his length inside you, he thought he died and went to heaven.

You were such an angel, an angel that decided to sin with the devil.

You were so warm and tight, gripping his length like a hot soft blanket, so wet and ready to be pounded into oblivion. He started with slow and long thrusts, savoring every inch of your walls.

"H-Harder, please...." you moaned out, your hands gripping his biceps, nails dragging over tattooed skin.

'Beg me...Beg me to fuck you, my queen.' he signed with shaky hands.

Your breathing picked up, gulping down, and wetting your lips with your tongue.

"Jesse...Please, fuck me harder. I need you so bad. I’m…so…dam…horny right now." you whined, inner walls clenching on him as he picked up his pace, not wasting any moment to bring you such satisfaction, knowing he was the only one able to make you beg, make you shake under him all helpless.

The sounds your pussy was making around his cock was music to his ears, feeling your juices coating his cock with every pull and push of his hips. He would have liked to tease you more, but he loosed his patience. He will have more time tomorrow to tease the hell out of you, but now? All he wanted was to fill you up until you will be dripping his cum until the next day.

Jesse wished he could have more control around you. Gripping your legs tightly he began to pound into you mercilessly, making your breasts move with each push against you; scarred lips pulled into a snarl as he felt the delicious knot in the pit of his stomach.

Oh so close, just a few more thrusts.

When you came hard on his cock, squirting over the rock-hard length he came undone, following in your climax. Your nails dragged down his back as you felt hot jets of cum coat your inside, milking him for all he was worth.

"Te iubesc atât de mult." you whispered in his ear, making his eye widen, your accent so sweet.

You thought him a few Romanian words so he knew exactly what you said, but it was the way you said it; so sincere and innocent.

'God, I love it when you talk Romanian.' he signed, nuzzling his face into your neck, layers of sweat coating your bodies as you snuggled into each other in front of the fire on the white fluffy rug.

"Mmmm Jesse.....Will you pull out?" you murmured into his chest as he laid you both on your sides.

'Later....You're so warm.' he signed, lips pressing against your forehead.

"You're such a child." you said, rolling your eyes, but your arms tightened around him.

Not even the big blizzard outside bothered Jesse anymore, not when he had your naked form in his arms.

'Will you make more of your traditional food?' Jesse asked, eye shining like a child's with enthusiasm.

"Mhmmm.....if you will take care of the firewood." you replied.

'Crap...'

END

#chromeskull x reader #Chromeskull #Jesse Cromeans #jesse cromeans x reader #laid to rest 2009 #chromeskull: laid to rest 2012 #slasher x reader #horror movie #kinky december

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rachelkaser · 4 years

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Resident Evil 3 Remake Review: Where’s the love gone?

The 2020 game release glut is underway, and given the state of the world, it didn’t come a moment too soon. Among the heavy hitters like Doom Eternal, Animal Crossing New Horizons, and the Final Fantasy 7 Remake, Capcom slipped in their remake of Resident Evil 3.

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REmake 3 bears the weight of having to follow the superb remakes of both Resident Evil and Resident Evil 2. Both remakes, though made years apart, managed to take the raw material of the original games and make them into almost completely original experiences. REmake 2, in particular, was one of the highlights of last year -- I listed it as my Horror Game of the Year on TNW.

So how’d it do? Well you probably don’t need me to tell you it didn’t exactly hold up. Just about every review on the planet has waxed acidic about the game since it came out, and for the most part I agree with every complaint I’ve seen. However, I do want to address at least one, that being the game’s length. Because that’s not in and of itself a problem -- it’s the stuff the devs did to get it to that length that are the problem.

Let me start by saying the game’s atmosphere and character are great. Raccoon City has never felt more like a real place -- and I mean a place that actually made sense, as opposed to the bizarre, somewhat eldritch behemoth it’s resembled in every game from RE2 to RE Outbreak. The game doesn’t squeeze you within the confines of the city’s oddly convoluted police station, if nothing else.

I may not be a fan of Jill’s more caustic personality in this game, but I respect her for it -- goodness knows I couldn’t have gone through the things she’s gone through with a smile on my face. I do like what they did with Carlos’s character -- namely, that he actually has one, his amiability and competence contrasting his original cringey doofiness. And this Nicholai’s more obvious sliminess is much more entertaining than the original.

That said, let’s address the elephant in the room: the game’s length.

If you aren’t caught up, you might think I’m talking about the game being too long. That would raise familiar complaints about padding and filler content, which are some of my biggest pet peeves in games such as this. But actually, it’s the opposite. The game can actually be completed in just a few hours -- less than three if you really hustle.

I’ve seen any number of complaints about that.

Gamespot: “ ...disappointingly, RE3's story reaches its conclusion after a brisk six-hour campaign”

PC Gamer: “...the pacing here feels off, like it's hurriedly shoving you to the next location just as you're starting to get comfortable...”

Eurogamer: “All this - the pacing, the progression, the action and Nemesis' design, contributes to the feeling the Resident Evil 3 remake is over too soon.”

As each of these reviews implies, the length is a symptom, rather than the disease. The problem isn’t that the game is short. At the risk of sounding suggestive, it’s not the length that counts, but what you do with it.

No, the issue with the REmake 3 is that it rejiggers several key events in the original game, presumably in the interest of keeping the game tight (and cheap), and undermines the tension and storytelling. In doing so, it also basically neuters Nemesis, one of the series’ all-time best villains -- and that’s just fucking sad.

Seeing STARS

The earliest, and probably most damning example to me is the death of Brad Vickers. In the original, Brad, being the only remaining STARS member in the city besides Jill, is desperately fleeing the Nemesis when she first meets him. He’s our first indication that something very bad is in the city, something we didn’t see in RE2.

Here, Brad is instead taken out by a group of ordinary zombies -- not a very illustrious end for a STARS operative. While he does call Jill to warn her about Nemesis -- meaning he’s presumably had a run-in with the beast himself -- he’s strangely blase about this eight-foot-tall nightmare monster that’s trying to kill him, specifically.

Later, the player encounters Brad again, but as a zombie outside the police station, where you find out he’s the one who bit and infected Marvin Branagh. He’s able to apologize to Marvin --- there’s no explanation for how he can do that despite being fully zombified, and frankly the whole thing has “Pathos Moment, Please Be Moved” stamped on it in gold ink. And it might actually be emotional, if the person who encountered him and had to put him down was Jill.

But instead, it’s Carlos. Who says “I’ve got this fucker!” guns Brad down, and nicks a keycard off his body. He finds the STARS poster featuring Brad a few moments later and scornfully says, “Sorry, poster boy.” I never thought I’d be chastising someone for not paying the proper respect to Brad Fucking Vickers, but here we are.

Brad served as a way of introducing Nemesis and how dangerous he is. For all his chickenheartedness, Brad was a fully-fledged member of STARS and the only survivor of the Spencer Mansion incident in town other than Jill. So seeing Brad so afraid of Nemesis, and then seeing the monster casually dispose of him actually proved Nemmy could walk the walk as well as talk the “STAAAAAAARS.”

In the original game, he’s constantly getting in Jill’s way, and the player never knows where and when he’ll show up next. When Jill summons an escape helicopter, he shoots it down just when she starts celebrating. When she thinks she’s put him down, he infects her with T-Virus and knocks her out for almost two days. He may not actually kill Jill, but he sure as hell makes certain she doesn’t get away from him.

In the remake, Nemmy never once succeeds in the entire course of the game. He doesn’t kill Brad. He shoots down a helicopter, but at the start of the game. The clock tower level where he’s pursuing Jill through close quarters and ruining her escape plans doesn’t happen. Every part of this just defangs him.

All we see him do is try and fail to kill Jill, and get his ass kicked over and over and over again. Sure, he still infects her with the T-Virus. But there are several moments in the game where he has her completely dead to rights and just fails to finish her off, which makes him look like a giant mutated goober.

I’m not a purist who needs a remake to be an exact 1:1 duplicate of the original, but something about the downright soullessness of this remake -- the way it just doesn’t seem to get what was so great about the original -- leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I’m reminded of that moment in DMC: Devil May Cry when Dante In Name Only looks at himself in a white wig and scoffs. I do not appreciate this level of disdain for the source material.

Ticking the Boxes

Nemesis’s appearance in the game invites (nay, begs for) comparison to his predecessor, REmake 2′s Mr. X. You could tell, when playing the latter game, how excited the developers were to turn what was a one-note Tyrant boss into the game’s most memorable enemy. Nemmy, by comparison, makes you feel the developer’s beleaguered sigh at checking him off the Things To Include list -- like a great, gusty, “Well if I must” wheeze you could see from the stratosphere.

Part of the issue is that they gave lots of Nemmy’s qualities to Mr. X when they were beefing up his role in REmake 2. Mr. X was also the relentless pursuer type who could ruin your day if he caught you, and he was damn near impossible to put down in a straight fight. That’s basically Nemesis in a nutshell. The difference between the two was that, unlike Mr. X, who maintained a brisk walking pace and could be evaded, Nemmy could sprint from place to place and could pass through doors.

What Nemmy lacked that he should have had was unpredictability. In the original game, you were never quite sure where and when he was going to turn up, so even when he doesn’t show up at all, his potential presence is a constant pressure on the player. Mr. X was kind of the same, in that he patrolled the station and you could hear him stomping around. But considering REmake 3 is much more linear and deals with a smaller chunk of the city, Nemesis should have sprung up in odd places and at odd times. As it is, his inclusion feels so scripted as to be token. In fact, he’s more like the original RE2′s Mr. X than the original Nemesis.

Here’s another example: The original final encounter with Nemesis, in which Jill put him down for good, was the only time in the game Jill had the advantage over the monster. Nemmy has basically become a puddle of goo, having been decimated with the rail gun. All he can do is feebly try and waddle towards Jill, who picks up a magnum and proceeds to put several rounds into the monster. The game milks every last drop of catharsis from this moment, culminating in that famous line “You want STARS? I’ll give you STARS” before executing the motherfucker. It. Was. Awesome!

All the game needed to do was give us this moment in HD. That was all it needed to do. If it wanted to up the ante by maybe having a proper final boss fight, I’d have been okay with that. But instead it ends with Jill picking up the rail gun -- which is easily bigger than she is, I might add -- shoving it down Nemmy’s throat, and shouting “Next time, take the fucking hint!” before shooting him to oblivion.

Surely I don’t need to be the one to tell you why the latter is just not as good as the former, right? It honestly feels like a puerile attempt to make the scene more “badass.” But all I could think while it was happening was “Surely that gun’s recoil would put Jill somewhere in the next county?” Even if they’d just left the famous line in, I’d have accepted it, railgun deepthroating and all (put that on the list of sentences I’d never thought I’d write). As it is, it just feels like Jill smacking down an unruly dog, not putting down her borderline-immortal mutant stalker for good.

And Jill’s energy in this scene, her just-so-done-with-it attitude and lack of real reaction to the actual gravity of her situation, feels like it’s representing the attitude of the people who made this wreck. Whereas REmake 2 felt like a labor of love, something with genuine pleasure and devotion put into it, you get the impression while playing REmake 3 that the developers really didn’t want to be making it. Not didn’t care, I mean actively resented the project.

I’m not saying the original was perfect, or that this remake needed to be faithful -- REmake 2 remixed vast parts of RE2 and that worked out in its favor. But that’s what this needed to be: a remix, something that respected and built upon the original material. But to do that, they needed to put real passion and interest in, and it seemed like they ran out of that as soon as REmake 2 hit the figurative shelves -- and all the developers of REmake 3 could do was pull out a great big “Things to Include in the Inevitable RE3 Remake” checklist and start forlornly ticking boxes.

And that lack of interest is why the game feels so desperately anemic. Jill, Carlos, and especially Nemesis, deserved better.

#resident evil 3 #jill valentine #nemesis #re3 remake #resident evil 3 remake #resident evil 2 #resident evil #game review

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furederiko · 7 years

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"GOOD LUCK!!!" The 32nd episode of Kyuranger sends off one of its key member to its final journey...

NOTE: Several unrelated things before I moved on to the recap-view. I couldn't rewatched this episode again (with subtitle) sooner due to unexpected situations at home. Hence why this post takes a bit longer to publish. And one more thing, I'll be off the grid throughout next week to deal with personal affairs, so recap-view for episode 33 will also be delayed until after October 15th, 2017. I'll probably batch that one with episode 34 in the 3rd week of October.

- Okay, let's start. New broadcast time!!! 09.30 JST means I can now wake up later than usual (not that I could do that casually, due to my 'trained' biological clock... -_-). This new time slot however, means more 'noise' issues to the streaming. Both figuratively and literally, as in internet traffic problem that caused delays, and pesky annoyingly LOUD morning aerobic held by the neighbourhood community almost every Sunday. On the bright side, this reschedule means the absence of that usual time stamp/clock! Although it does feel odd (like something's missing or somehow LOL) and took me a while to get used to, this clean footage definitely looks so much better than before because of it. - The show itself celebrates its new schedule with a neat special intro-narration that occurs mid-fight. Opening sequence remains the same though, here I thought it would get revamped like "Kyoryuger". It also debuts a Holy Moly flashy fan-service grin-inducing "Kyulette Chance!" by the duo of Tsurugi who firmly believes he should be the new Commander, and Stinger who tags along for unknown reason. Gotta love Kotarou's reaction to these two, particularly the "You're making us Earthling looks bad" jab to the former... LOL. Not unlike the cool intro narration, I'm not sure if the pair will continue to do this in the next episode (since Xiao already shows up later in the closing scene). Nevertheless, this is a hillarious gem indeed. - Don Armage looks a bit desperate, that he's offering Vice-Shogun promotion for Malistrates who can take down the Kyurangers. This is where Kukuruga's subordinate Dogyun (whose design reminds me of Decepticon Shockwave) steps in. Apparently, the Jark Matter scientist has the ability to control machines, and wants to utilize this skill to activate the numerous Consumarz on Earth. Remember, those machines were all shutdown by Tsurugi when he was awaken from his cold-sleep. - On the protagonist side, Naga confirms that Don Armage is situated in the Crux System. Somewhere around there, at least (Naga with emotions means he can openly cast jokes now LOL). Unfortunately, the team is facing a problem: ORION's condition doesn't allow them to do that. Not only the spaceship is damaged, but it is also beyond repair. Aaaaw... T_T. - Raptor, who is troubled due to her deep connection with ORION, wants to use Dogyun's ability to help repair ORION. Unfortunately, the Malistrate's skill is nothing but a fraud. Tsurugi explains that the appliances only become active due to a liquid organism matrix that triggers their electric circuits. So Dogyun doesn't play a direct role on them. - Things get more troubling, as Tsurugi's premature leadership is already put into question. Raptor feels that ORION is one of their important comrade, while he thinks that's just her usual delusions. This provokes Raptor's emotions, who runs away thinking it's useless to fight. A good example to why an inconsiderate guy like Tsurugi shouldn't be assigned as the new Commander *sigh*. - Spada has always been linked to Raptor (classic Yellow-Pink trope if you will), so it comes off as natural that he would stand up and support her. Aside from confirming that they are the early Rebellion members (possibly after Xiao and Stinger, and before Hammy and Champ joined the group), Spada admits that ORION might've been the miraculous spaceship that Raptor suggests. I don't know about you, but this scene makes me curious to see more flashback to the Rebellion's foundation! - Knowing a brief history that leads towards Raptor's attachment to ORION, Lucky decides to look for her while the away team deals with Dogyun who has rigged another set of Consumarz to level the area. Raptor is about to give up, troubled by the fact that she won't be able to save a teammate. Lucky proves that he's a better candidate to be a Commander, by encouraging Raptor to stand up and do something better for ORION's sake: fight on, to save the universe! - It's really nice seeing Aquila Pink being so fierce and feisty in battle. Not only she (with Leo Red's help) saves the day by using Telescopium Kyu Globe to remove the slimes from the reactivated Consumarz, but her action and strong feeling totally reaches out to ORION. Dogyun combines 10 regular Consumarz into a 'Super Big' Consumarz that's set to collide with Earth, and Kyutamajin is unable to stop it. So who's coming to the rescue? It's none other than... ORION. - The spaceship sentiently lights up its last remaining power, transports Spada, Balance, and Kotarou (the three stayed behind inside the ship) into Kyutamajin for safety, and rams the Giant Consumarz away from its destination. Which also means, ORION is sacrificing himself to save the Kyurangers and Earth. And to top it all, in its very last seconds, the ship sends one last transmission to the team, and most likely to Raptor in person... "GOOD LUCK". Aaaaawww... the FEELS. Dang you Kyuranger, even your ship is giving me misty eyes. Fun fact: Just like what happened to Orion or various other elements of the series, this is another strong nod to "One Piece". In this case, ORION serves as the Going Merry 'situation' for the Kyurangers. - In the end, the other Kyurangers agrees with Raptor, acknowledging that the spaceship is indeed the unofficial 13th member of the team. They pay tribute to ORION as it joins the stars in the sky, while Xiao can be seen overseeing a behemoth of battleship that would inherit its heroic legacy (the official CM for one has already been aired! LOL). Farewell ORION, thanks for taking us through an amazing rollercoaster ride throughout 32 episodes. You shall not be forgotten!

Overall: Personally, I think this was a good episode. Wasn't at the heights of the previous ones, but an overall good one nonetheless. It put Raptor283 in the spotlight, progressed her personal character journey that have already begun since episode 4, but at the same time, affecting the whole team in a major way. Of course, not every audience would take this kindly, nor in a positive way. The barrage of long and pointless heated complaints for this episode on RangerBoard, firmly reminded me why I walked away from that forum (glad I never rejoined and served only as passive spectator until now... totally forgot my password anyway LOL). This wouldn't please those who kept on arguing about her lack of focus episode and exposure. Completely ignoring the fact that they have ironically been downplaying her crucial importance to the show (seriously, Kyuranger would be nothing without Raptor's presence, eventhough she largely operates in the background), under the disguise of 'her defense'. Some people just could never be satisfied with anything! If you ask me, the fact that this episode was able to slip in a moving moment as a climax, and made us relate to the struggle of an android (who is portrayed by suit + voice actor), is an amazing achievement on its own. Do I want to see more development and focus story for Raptor? Yes. Will we get any? Probably not, because the approach to treat female characters as secondary at best is a common thing in Super Sentai franchise. Then again, Kyuranger has surprised us plenty of times before, so let's hold our horses and don't jump the gun just yet... Next week: Eris! Orion! And the Kyurangers' search for a place called home... PS: Just restating what I've said above. I'll see you again with the next recap-view after October 15th! Till then, stay safe, take care, and see you soon...

Episode 32 Score: 8 out of 10

Visit THIS LINK to view a continuously updated listing of the Kyutama / Kyu Globes. Last Updated: October 1st, 2017 - Version 3.01. (WARNING: It might contain spoilers for future episodes)

All images are screencaptured from the series, provided by the FanSubber Over-Time. "Uchu Sentai Kyuranger" is produced by TOEI, and airs every Sunday on TV-Asahi. Credits and copyrights belong to their respective owners.

#tokusatsu #SuperSentai #kyuranger #uchu sentai kyuranger #uchuu sentai kyuranger #review #melancholymoments

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vindictivegrace · 7 years

Text

Set It All on Fire

Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2208

Notes: One shot, no smut, established relationship, domestic AU, no powers, moving out, moving is annoying as fuck, rage quit, Bucky is a grouch, Steve is kind of a nag, I basically wrote this to unload my own IRL moving stress Summary: Steve and Bucky are moving to a new rental house. Bucky hates the hassles of moving. To make matters worse, Bucky has been left to deal with the bulk of their last minute packing. The house is full of excess junk, Steve is constantly on his case about what to do next, and Bucky is sick of it all. Finally, something happens and it’s the last straw for Bucky. A/N: Originally posted March 25, 2017 on AO3 here. I wrote this while I was in the middle of preparing to move a couple weeks ago. Holy fuck do I hate moving. I have since made it to my new destination, but not without wishing once or twice (or every single day) that I could do what Bucky did in this fic. Let me know what you think. Enjoy ^_^ ****************

“Bucky, did you hear what I said?”

“Hm, what?” Bucky blinked to rid himself of his glazed over stare.

His boyfriend huffed, clearly annoyed. “I said…”

And there Steve went again about this and that and whatever else Bucky had to do. The two were moving out of their rental home to a nicer one on the other side of the city. Steve was counting on Bucky to get as much packing done as possible. Bucky had the time. After serving the past four years in the military, he decided to use the GI Bill to take himself to school. He was a part-time student at one of the local universities, and school was on break for the week. Bucky also worked part-time for the university, and luckily his office was closed for the break as well.

“Bucky! You got that?”

“Yeah, yeah, Steve. I heard ya this time.” Bucky really didn’t, but he didn’t have to. Steve was on him for the past few days about everything that had to be done, there was no way Bucky could forget even if he wanted to. Every day before he left and every night before they slept, Steve repeated their endless to-do list. Steve helped when he could, but his long hours at the office meant he wasn’t able to contribute as much as he would like. With such a short deadline to be out of the house—the end of the week—the majority of the work fell on Bucky’s shoulders. He would have to spend his entire break packing up.

“Well okay, Buck. I’m off.” Steve leaned in to give Bucky a warm, lingering kiss. He pulled away, adding, “Look, I know you hate moving, Bucky. Don’t worry—It’ll be over before you know it and we’ll be in our new house.”

“Honestly, it would be over a lot sooner if we didn’t have so much crap laying around Stevie. Seriously, we don’t need all this junk!” Bucky gestured behind himself. It was true the house was cluttered with everything imaginable, but Steve always freaked out and put his foot down when Bucky as much as hinted at getting rid of their stuff.

Steve didn’t have time to freak out this morning, so he quickly cut down Bucky’s protest. “We can deal with the extra junk later. Right now we need to focus on getting out of here.” Bucky heard the finality in his voice. “Okay, I’m off for real now, Bucky.” Steve gave Bucky a quick smooch this time and left out the door.

Bucky closed the door and turned around to face the behemoth of a task in front of him: All the shit in their house.

He ran a hand through his long brown hair and sighed.

“Fuck me.”

-----

In one of Steve’s earlier nightly recitals of their to-do list, he had recommended Bucky start in one room and work his way to the living room and kitchen. Having a system for tackling all their junk would keep the frustration at bay. It would also make it easier for Steve to figure out where he could jump in and help when he came home.

Bucky was having none of that. If he had to do most of the packing, he would do it his way. Which meant random anger-inducing chaos. He started in the kitchen, tackling random cabinets as he saw fit. He opened one above and was instantly flooded by Tupperware, like he was part of a goddamn infomercial. Afterwards, he moved to the partially finished basement, looked around at the mess, told himself “NOPE,” and went back upstairs. He boxed up the books in Steve’s home office and left it at that, knowing that his lover would prefer to go through the rest of the room’s contents on his own. He went back to the kitchen to load the dishwasher and do the rest by hand. They were always leaving huge piles of dishes in the sink. He skipped the bathroom for now. He could clean that towards the end of their stay.

Later, in their bedroom, Bucky worked on their clothes. His were easy. Bucky kept a simple utilitarian wardrobe that still flattered his muscular physique. He usually stuck to henleys, jeans, and boots. He had enough clothes to add or remove layers as needed, and a jacket and a coat to accommodate the predominant seasons of the region. He had a set of workout clothes, as well, and he saved on pajamas by sleeping in an undershirt and his boxer briefs, or in the nude.

Steve was a different story. For a guy who was modest and bashful about how ridiculously hot he actually was, Steve had no problem showing himself off in as many clothes as possible. He had t-shirts, tank tops, button down flannel, basic longsleeves, sweaters, hoodies, dress shirts for work, dress shirts for going out, his workout clothes; tons of jeans in various ass-hugging, junk framing shades and cuts (okay, Bucky liked those); sooooo many shoes; jackets for warm weather; jackets for cooler weather; jackets for when the weather couldn’t decide what it was doing; five heavy winter coats (what person needed FIVE winter coats???); underwear in all shades, cuts, and materials imaginable (okay, Bucky liked those too, especially the lacey boyshorts and thongs); and more. Bucky had never seen anyone, man or woman, own so many clothes. The sight of their overrun closet alone was mind-boggling. Steve could at least cut down on the shirts. Half of his stash could restock all the clothing stores downtown for a month!

Bucky put his face in his hands and groaned loudly. The frustration was building fast.

-----

Of course when Steve came home he threw a fit at Bucky’s randomness. Now they were both climbing over boxes and bags and stacks of junk like they were moving through a homemade obstacle course.

Of course Steve’s annoyance fed into Bucky’s.

“Well maybe we wouldn’t have to climb over everything if we didn’t have so much stuff! Why don’t we get rid of all of this crap? We could donate it or give it away. Hell, we could even do a last minute garage sale. I’d be willing whip that together.”

“No, Bucky!”

“Or we could set it all on fire and be done with it.”

“NO.”

Of course, when the night was over, Steve was running through their to-do list. They still had to transfer their utility services, transfer their internet service, change their mailing address, change their address at the bank, send out their final rent, give a parting gift to the neighbors (‘Fuck the neighbors,’ Bucky thought to himself. ‘Their tiny dog always poops on our porch!’), get their lawnmower back from Sam who had borrowed it after his broke, mow the lawn, take out the trash and recycling, take the designated box of food to the food bank, on top of everything else they had to do at home still. Which included...

And Steve just kept rattling off the neverending, damn it all to hell, to-do list. Bucky had already fallen asleep. Steve didn’t notice until the familiar light snoring started. He sighed, turned out the light, and snuggled himself under Bucky’s arm, allowing the gentle rise and fall of Bucky’s chest to lull him to sleep.

-----

Days later, after more packing and more of Steve’s lists, and more problems coming up, and more things to do, Bucky just about had it. Maybe he really would set everything on fire. The illicit desire was growing each minute. There was no point in keeping any of this junk around anymore. He and Steve would have to unpack it all in the new house, and deal with it again when they moved once more later on, and again, and again! Bucky wished he could squeeze his eyes shut and magically time travel to one month later when they would be settled down in their now home and all their packing woes were far behind them. He was so sick of this shit. He was barely holding on. If anything set him off now, he knew he would lose it.

He opened the front door to get the mail for the last time when he felt something squish under his boot. He didn’t need to look down to know what it was—the smell alone was enough to tell.

Bucky stepped in dog shit.

THAT’S. IT.

-----

Steve was packing up for the day when his phone vibrated. He let it go to voicemail. He just wanted to leave the office and get home so he could help Bucky. He knew Bucky was getting more tense and fed up with packing. It was already late, the sun having set an hour ago. The phone vibrated again—short pulses this time. A text message. Then a longer set of vibrations for a phone call. Then short pulsing. A voicemail. Followed by more vibrations. Steve started getting nervous. This wasn’t good. He looked at the phone. All the missed phone calls, voicemails, and texts were coming from Natasha. When the phone vibrated again, Steve picked up.

“Rogers.”

“Steve, it’s Nat!” she was frantic. “Where are you?”

“I’m still at work trying to leave. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m calling to ask you that! Didn’t you hear?”

------

Steve rushed home just in time to see the spectacle. There were fire trucks, police cars, and ambulances everywhere. Emergency personnel were running back and forth. Everyone in the neighborhood and the surrounding area gathered around to see the biggest tower of fire he had ever seen. There were so many phones out, no doubt recording the drama and posting it online. The local news stations were off to the side reporting live. The view almost reminded Steve of the massive bonfires the city puts on during the summer. Except this wasn’t a bonfire—it was whatever was left of his rental house.

Where was Bucky? Steve worked his way through the crowd. His eyes darted this way and that looking for Bucky, hoping, begging, pleading that Bucky was okay. That was all he cared about. Panic was flooding through his entire body. No, no! If Bucky was in the house, there was no way he could have survived a blaze this big. Steve couldn’t lose his Bucky. Not like this, please! Steve reached the front of the crowd, where caution tape and police officers kept the crowd back and firefighters rushed by to kill the fire. The heat was overwhelming.

“Sir, please stay back. It isn’t safe here!” an officer warned him.

“But that’s my house!” Steve yelled back while pointing at the blaze. “Please, Officer, have you seen a man about my height and age, with shoulder length brown hair, muscular build, and an endless scowl???” Steve’s eyes were stinging from the smoke and his own fears playing out in his mind.

“Oh, that guy…Yeah, he’s over there,” the officer replied, thumbing over his shoulder in a general direction behind them.

Bucky was leaning against an ambulance. He refused medical care. His arms were crossed and his scowl was deep, so the paramedics let him be.

Steve ran to him. “Bucky! Oh thank god you’re okay!” Steve threw his arms around Bucky and hugged him hard, effectively killing Bucky’s customary stress glare. The hug didn’t last long. Steve pulled himself back at arm's length to look at Bucky head on. “What happened here? What happened to you? How did this happen? Did you see anything?”

Bucky’s eyes shifted—right, left, lower corner—and settled on Steve’s. “I stepped out of the house for a little bit. Went to grab the mail. Turned around and saw smoke. I ran inside to save the important stuff. I ran out. The whole place went up in flames.”

Steve knew that look and tone. Bucky always acted this way when something was off.

Then it instantly clicked in Steve’s mind.

The panic Steve felt earlier transformed into stomach sinking dread. His eyes widened, the whites standing out in the blaze-hued smoky night. He stepped closer to whisper, his grip on Bucky’s shoulders tightening.

“Bucky...What did you DO?”

Bucky gave Steve a small smirk. The night, the ongoing fire, and the spinning lights from all the emergency workers’ vehicles played off Bucky’s visage, leaving him unnaturally darkened by shadows, like an everyday man who finally gave in to his most sinister carnal desire.

“What we should have done in the first place. Now Steve, the story is ‘I stepped out of the house for a little bit. Went to grab the mail. Turned around and saw smoke. I ran inside to save the important stuff. I ran out. The whole place went up in flames.’” He emphasized each sentence to cement the “facts” into Steve’s mind and the unspoken message: WE’RE IN THIS TOGETHER.

“Bucky…” Steve was horrified. Was this really happening?

“I’m an idiot Steve,” Bucky continued in that tone. “I shouldn’t have risked my life like that for paper, right? Documents can be replaced. A life can’t. You’re just happy that I’m safe and sound. RIGHT, Stevie?”

“Oh my god, Bucky.”

“You shouldn’t buy so many of those damn shirts, Stevie. They’re basically kindling.”

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stevebucky #stucky #marvel #fanfic #fanfiction #moving #packing #I fucking hate moving #vindictivegracefanfic #set it all on fire #au domestic life #au no powers #rage quit #established relationship #one shot

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thatcrazyfanfictionwriter · 7 years

Text

Secret of the Sewers: Downhill from Here

The Master was sitting in the middle of his throne room meditating. As he sat in thought and contemplation, five Motorheads came from the rafters and began surrounding him. One Motorhead walked up to him and drew a sword. As the Motorhead brought it down on him, the Master actually caught the blade in his hands. His eyes flew open as he palm punched the Motorhead in the stomach, causing him to fall to the ground. The Master quickly caught the fallen blade as he got to his feet and two more of the Motorheads charged towards him. He blocked the blade strike of one and quickly swiped his feet. The third Motorhead tried throwing shuriken at him, but the Master used his sword to block most of them. He caught one and threw it back at the Motorhead, causing it to impale him in the shoulder. A fourth Motorhead threw a Kusarigama chain at him, making it wrap around his arm. The Master simply pulled on the chain, yanking the Motorhead forward so the Master could clothesline him. Just as he was about to face down the final Motorhead, there was a polite knock at the door. Though irritated, the Master signaled the Motorhead to stop and he went over to his desk to press a small red button. There was a buzz and the door opened as he sat down at the desk.

"Master!" Stockman greeted as he waltzed into the temple-like room.

"This had better be important Stockman." the Master cautioned. "I detest being interrupted."

"I am very well aware of that Master," Stockman assured him as he reached into his lab coat. "But, what I have to show you is beyond important."

From his coat, the scientist pulled out two files, handing them to the Master. One was labeled 'T.M.N.T.' and appeared to be a relatively new file. The second was much older, the papers yellowed slightly from age and the label reading 'Project Oracle'.

"The Project Oracle file?" The Master asked, perplexed. "I thought you said she was destroyed."

"That was my initial conclusion, yes." Stockman agreed. "However, it would seem that the reports of her demise were greatly exaggerated. Not only is she alive, but she is one of the five nuisances that have been causing you so much grief, Master."

The Master set the files down, looking at Stockman with a rising anger.

"So what you are telling me is that not only were your reports of her termination inaccurate, but she had been working alongside my enemies, dismantling my entire empire, and ruining everything I have built for myself?!"

Stockman stumbled back, never having been on the receiving end of his Master's wrath. Sure he had witnessed the man filet his enemies without hesitation, but never had we thought his life may be the one to be snuffed out. Taking a quick gulp, Stockman quickly tried to recover.

"The evidence pointed to her death," Stockman rationalized. "I had no way of knowing she would survive. If I had known-"

"Enough!" The Master cut him off. "I do not tolerate excuses Stockman. I want to know how you're going to salvage this."

Stockman nodded quickly, already trying to calculate a suitable plan.

"Of course Master." he replied. "I have already compiled a detailed file on each of the turtles through the footage I witnessed. With it, you will be able to train your soldiers to properly combat this mutant threat should I rise again."

"And what about the 'Oracle' problem?" the Master asked.

"I may have a way of capturing her, and possibly the turtles as well, saving you the time and effort needed to train your men." Stockman answered, the plan already forming in his head. "All I require is the use of Hun and some of his men, if you allow it, that is."

The Master contemplated for a moment.

"Very well Stockman." he relented. "Do what you need to. But I caution you to get it right, or your next mistake will be your last."

Stockman bowed, then quickly took his leave.

…

Hun was none too pleased when Stockman came waltzing into his headquarters like he owned the place.

"Hun, my boy!" he called. "You and I have some business to discuss."

Hun snarled. The last thing he wanted was to deal with Stockman twice in one day. Unfortunately, he also knew he had little choice in the matter.

"What do you want?" Hun demanded, not even bothering to look the doctor in the eye

"It's not what I want." Stockman chuckled. "It's what you need."

Now Hun turned around. The doctor grinned, knowing he had the behemoth's full and undivided attention.

"It's no secret that even though you managed to get that footage of the five pests, you're still on the Master's naughty side." he taunted. "But I think I know just how to get you back on his nice list."

"And how is that?" Hun growled.

Stockman put his arm around the giant, walking him towards a nearby laptop.

"I know how you can capture Project Oracle, and then, her so-called 'brothers', those mutant turtles."

Hun snorted.

"I have tried for four years to capture them. What makes you think your plan will do any better?"

Stockman produced a flash drive, inserting it into the laptop.

"Tell me Hun. What are the three things every living creature needs to survive?"

"Food, water, and air."

Stockman smiled, patting Hun on the head.

"Good job." he congratulated in a condescending tone. "That was correct."

He began typing away on the laptop as he continued talking.

"These turtles are the same. They require food and fresh water. So this begs the question; where do they get their food?"

Hun raised an eyebrow. Stockman sighed.

"Honestly, is there a single working brain cell in the cavernous space you call a brain?" he asked. "Project Oracle is the only human in their little group. It stands to reason that she is the one that is sent to gather supplies. Even if they are hiding now, eventually, they will run out of food, necessitating Oracle to reveal herself."

Hun just chuckled.

"What are you suggesting?" he asked. "That I have my men stake out every grocery store? Every convenience shop? Or maybe you just want me to spread my men out, watching every fast food joint in this city!"

Stockman let Hun rant, then triumphantly hit the enter button. A photo came onto the screen, a frozen image from the footage downloaded from the fight. With a grin, Stockman zoomed in on a corner, focusing on a strange white box. After a quick enhance and brightening the picture, Hun was surprised to see it was a pizza box.

"Not every fast food joint." Stockman told him. "But perhaps you should stake out Mario Brothers Pizzeria off 19th avenue and 84th street."

As Hun stared at the picture, Stockman walked out.

"Happy hunting!"

…

It was a surprisingly slow day at Mario Brothers Pizzeria, so slow that the only real work Casey's boss had him doing was sweeping the floor. To say he was bored was an understatement.

"Why did I have to agree to work a double shift on a Tuesday?" He groaned. "Nobody ever comes in on Tuesday."

As if to prove him wrong, the bell of the front door went off. Casey couldn't help sigh in relief, grateful for any type of distraction. He leaned the broom against the wall as turned towards the door.

"Welcome to Mario Bro-"

His voice trailed away as he saw who it was. It was a group of about three men, all of them big and brutish looking, dressed in navy blue police uniforms. Casey looked at these guys, then cleared his throat.

"Can I help you officers?" he asked.

One of the officers looked Casey up and down, as if sizing him up. He then looked around the shop.

"Where's your boss, kid?" he asked.

Casey bristled at the kid comment, but bit his tongue and walked towards the kitchen.

"Luigi!" he called. "I need you out here!"

Luigi came out, and was surprised by the three cops in his shop.

"Is there-a problem officers?" he asked.

The two other cops came forward, one of them producing a photograph. He handed it to Luigi, who took it surprised.

"This is a recent photo of a notorious criminal known as Oracle."

Casey was skeptical.

"Like the girl from Batman?" he asked.

The three cops all glared at him.

"This is serious, kid." The third one told him. "Oracle is incredibly dangerous. She's wanted for multiple accounts of assault and battery, assault with a deadly weapon, and vandalism."

Casey blinked. Whomever this Oracle girl was, she was obviously a volatile character. That was when Luigi handed him the photograph. When Casey saw it, his eyes went wide.

"This-This is Hisako!" he shouted. "This is my friend."

One of the cops sighed.

"We were afraid of this." He said. "You see, Oracle is known for using aliases and befriending those who she comes in contact with to keep them from discovering her true identity and intentions."

Casey looked at the photo, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"No." he said after a moment, "It can't be true. She would never lie to me."

The second cop approached Casey, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Son, tell me something. Whenever she comes to this establishment, do you ever see her with anyone else?"

Casey stumbled for a bit before reluctantly shaking his head.

"No..."

"And how about when she gets that deep dish pizza. Does she ever use a credit card? Show any form of ID?"

Once again, Casey could only shake her head.

"She's been fooling you, son." The third one told him. "I'm sorry."

Luigi stepped in between Casey and the cops.

"What-a can we to-a help?" he asked.

The cops all smiled, as if happy that the two of them were willing to cooperate.

"Just go about your normal routine, sir." they said. "We'll be staking out your shop, waiting for her to come."

"If you don't interfere, then we won't have any trouble."

With that, the cops prepared to leave. As they approached the door, a thought struck Casey. These guys had mentioned that Hisako came to get a deep dish pizza, but how could they know that? It was true that Hisako always paid in cash, but that meant there was no way to track the order.

Something wasn't right.

"Hey Officers!" he called.

They all turned as Casey came forward.

"Quick question." he asked, "Do you by chance know Lieutenant Arnold Jones?"

The cops paused for a second, then nodded.

"Can you tell him hi for me?" he asked. "He helped me out awhile back, and I've been meaning to thank him."

The cops nodded again, then quickly left the store. Casey watched them go, then turned to Luigi.

"Those guys aren't cops."

…

It was a rare morning that Splinter did not awaken to the chaotic sounds of his children. As he ventured out of his room, he walked into the living room, where his children and their new house guest were sleeping.

When Hisako had first been adopted into his unique family, she had been plagued by regular nightmares to the point that she would awaken everybody with her screaming. To prevent further nightmares, she would usually spend the rest of the night sleeping with one of her brothers, if not Master Splinter himself. This went on for some time before Donatello came up with an idea

Using the mattresses from their beds, as well as one or two from the dump, the purple turtle constructed what he called the "turtle-sized" bed. It was easily big enough to hold all four turtles and Hisako, and after some reconstruction of the living room, the siblings could now rest peacefully through the night.

Leatherhead, not wanting to leave Hisako's side, had settled onto the couch, where he had fallen into a restful sleep of his own. It was a relief to see all six of them resting easily after the events of yesterday. However, he heard faint growls coming from Leatherhead's couch. It would seem that, like Hisako, he suffered from nightly terrors.

The crocodile tossed and turned before sitting up, growling loudly. At his exclamation, all four turtles and Hisako sat up violently, weapons drawn and shouting at the same time.

"Who!" Leo screamed.

"What!" Donny shouted.

"Where!" Raph also screamed.

"Why!" Hisako added.

Mikey, always one to joke no matter the situation, had to have his own interjection.

"And how!"

The other three turtles looked at their brother as Hisako checked on Leatherhead. She gently took his hand in her uninjured one, squeezing it.

"You okay big guy?" she asked softly.

He held his head as he took a few deep breaths.

"I am... alright." he said after a minute. "I... apologize... for scaring you all."

Realizing there was no danger, the turtles all flopped back onto the bed, groaning. Hisako chuckled at the sight, then looked down at her brothers.

"Well, since we're awake, hows about I make us some breakfast."

She was met with a chorus of growling stomachs, including Leatherhead's. Hisako giggled at the sound.

"I will take that as a yes."

She walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, ready to see what they had to make.

"Let's see… I have the makings for omelets, breakfast tacos, just some eggs and bacon… I think I have enough flour and sugar to make some pancakes if that's what we want."

Mikey sauntered into the kitchen and closed the fridge door. Hisako looked at her brother confused as he grinned at her.

"Or, you could go and get us a pizza." He suggested with a big grin.

Hisako shook her head with a small smile.

"Pizza?" she asked. "For breakfast?"

Mikey shrugged.

"Hey, if we can eat breakfast for lunch or dinner, we should be able to eat lunch and dinner for breakfast."

Raph sat up on the mattress, looking over at the orange turtle.

"For once, I agree with the goofball." he remarked. "After all, we never did get that pizza yesterday."

Hisako looked at Raph with a surprised expression, then she turned to Donny.

"Come on Don. Tell them that's not a good idea."

The purple turtle contemplated this for a minute.

"Actually, a pizza would provide the necessary nourishment a breakfast should have. I see no problem with getting one for breakfast."

Hisako looked at Donny as if he had lost it. In desperation, she turned to Leo.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked,

She had hoped he would be sensible and say no. Instead, the blue turtle merely shrugged.

"A pizza does sound good." he mused.

Hisako threw her hands up in mock surrender, a laugh escaping from her lips.

"Alright. I yield. I'll go get a pizza. But know that I am doing this under protest."

The brothers all playfully pushed her as she grabbed her bag and headed towards the ladder leading up to the garage.

"I'll be back soon." she told them, "And try to stay out of trouble this time!"

"No promises!" Mikey called.

Hisako could hear Raph smacking Mikey as she made her way up to the surface.

…

The three cops from before sat in a large armored car parked about a block away from Mario Brothers Pizzeria. They had cameras set up inside and outside the parlor, waiting for the girl to show up. However, his men were quickly proving to be the impatient sort, getting restless after less than a day of watching.

"Why the hell are we sitting here?" The first guy asked. "We should be out doing… I don't know… something besides just sitting here."

The second guy groaned, turning to his cohort.

"Look, Hun put us on this job, so we're gonna do it." he snapped. "So just be patient."

The first guy slammed his fist on the table in front of him in frustration.

"You've been saying that for hours man. Frikken hours! I'm tired of being patient!"

"Well, then by all means, go on and blow our operation by pulling some sort of stupid stunt and get us all into trouble. Just like you always do!" The second guy shouted in retaliation.

"You got a bone to pick with me or something?!" the first guy yelled, standing up.

"I got much more than a bone you dirty piece of-"

Before the second thug could finish his retort, the third guy turned to them both

"Will you both just shut up?! Look!"

The two turned to the screens where a motorcycle had just pulled up. The rider removed their helmet to reveal a girl. And not just any girl.

Their target.

The second guy grabbed a nearby walkie-talkie, switching it on.

"Oracle spotted. Proceed to intercept positions and be ready for action."

The first guy smiled and cracked his knuckles.

"Finally."

…

Hisako was surprised to see Casey standing at the front counter, a worried look on his face. When the door closed behind her, Casey looked up in surprise, hiding his worried expression with a grin.

"Hey Hisako." He called.

"Hey Case." She replied, approaching the counter with a slightly worried look. "What's up? You look a bit stressed."

Casey brushed off her worry with a wave of his hand.

"I'm fine." he promised her. "I've just been working full shifts for the past two weeks straight. Mom fell behind on some of the bills, so I've been putting in extra hours to help her out."

Hisako smiled. For all the toughness he tries to portray, deep down, he was nothing but a big softy. Still, something still seemed off. She was tempted to read his mind to find out what was wrong, but ultimately decided against it. Casey deserved to have his secrets. After all, he respected hers.

"Whoa, what happened to your hand?" Casey asked, gesturing to the swath of bandages around her right hand.

She blinked, then looked down at her hand, having forgotten about her injury for a moment.

"I got bitten." She explained. "I'm fine though. Just can't bend my fingers all that well."

"Well, I hope you can carry pizza, cause something tells me that's why you're here." He declared.

"Yep." Hisako replied. "Two pizzas actually. An extra-large meat lovers, and my usual. An old friend needed a place to crash, and he's a serious carnivore."

She chuckled at her little joke as Casey nodded.

"Got it. One extra-large meat lovers, and a thin crust pizza with mushrooms and pineapple."

Hisako froze, alarm bells going off in her head. Casey never got her order wrong, and when he did, it was never that badly. It was almost as if he was doing it…

On…

Purpose…

"You know me so well…" she replied hesitantly, trying to keep her voice even and upbeat.

Casey turned his back to Hisako, walking towards the doors leading to the kitchen.

"You know what I always say…" Casey began.

The door opened behind Hisako as Casey reached for something in the kitchen.

"The day I get your order wrong…"

The door shut and Hisako could sense three different presences behind her.

"Is the day you know something is wrong."

On instinct, Hisako spun on her heels, bring up her foot for a kick. She connected with one of three men, all of them dressed in police uniforms, sending her victim flying. However, it was obvious these guys weren't here to protect and serve. Seeing the other two attempting to reach their pistols, Hisako rushed forward, jabbing the second attacker in the neck and bringing him to his knees. With a swift chop, the guy was out cold.

The third guy was much smarter, and much faster. When Hisako went for a blow, he leaned out of the way, grabbing her injured hand, jamming his fingers hard into the bandages. She howled in pain as he twisted it behind her back painfully. She tried to free herself, but any movement only made the spikes of pain going through her arm worse. It was then that the third guy said two words that made her blood run cold.

"Hello, Oracle."

Hisako barely had time to gasp before a loud crack echoed through the pizzeria. The guy's grip on her arm loosened, allowing for her to pull away. When she turned to face him again, she watched him slump to the ground out cold. Standing over him, brandishing a, now broken, wooden baseball bat, was Casey. He was breathing heavily and glaring at the three men on the ground in what Hisako could only describe as utter hatred.

"C-Casey?" she asked nervously.

Casey tossed the broken bat aside, turning to his friend.

"Are you okay?" he asked, "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"N-no..." She replied.

"Good." he told her. "Because I would have bashed their skulls in if they had. Bad enough they were pretending to be cops, but they tried to sell me some BS story about you being a criminal."

Hisako was hyperventilating, trying to control the rampant thoughts shooting through her brain like lightning. That cop had called her Oracle, meaning he knew who she was, and what she was. And that meant he could only be working for one person.

"How is this possible…?" she whispered. "How did he find me…?"

Casey, who was making sure the three men wouldn't be getting up again, looked up at Hisako in confusion.

"You sure you're okay Greeny?" he asked. "You look as pale as a ghost."

Hisako shook her head, trying to bring herself back into reality. Now was not the time to sink into one of her fits of terror. She needed to focus. Thinking quickly, she reached into her bag to grab her shell cell. Unfortunately, the phone had been reduced to a small handful of sparking bits of metal and glass during the fight.

"Damnit..." she cursed, tossing the destroyed phone to the ground. "I can't call the guys… What do I do?"

Knowing panicking would get her nowhere, she tried one of the many calming techniques that Splinter had showed her. As she regained her senses, a question dawned on her.

"Wait a second, Casey!" She called.

Casey stood up and walked into the kitchen. Hisako followed, but stopped just on the outside of the swinging doors.

"How did you know those guys weren't cops?"

Casey seemed to scoff.

"I asked them if they knew Lieutenant Arnold Jones. They said they did. That's how I knew they were fake."

"How?" Hisako questioned.

The kitchen doors opened again and Casey reemerged. He had ditched his work uniform for a red sleeveless shirt, jeans, and an old gold bag full of different sporting equipment. There were hockey sticks, baseball bats, golf clubs, cricket bats, croquet mallets, even lacrosse sticks. He pulled out his hockey mask and slipped it onto his face.

"Because Lieutenant Jones was my father." he replied. "And he was killed in action six years ago."

Outside, the sounds of motorcycle engines and armored trucks filled the air. Looking through the blinds of the window, Both Hisako and Casey saw an entire armada of vehicles surrounding the shop. From one of the trucks, a familiar wall of muscle emerged, causing Hisako to start breathing heavily again.

"Block all the exits." he ordered. "Surround the building and prepare to move in. Nobody gets out unless they're in chains."

With that, the two of them bolted away from the window, taking cover behind the counter.

"We need to get out of here." Hisako declared. "But how?"

Just then five motorheads crashed through the front window of the store. Knowing a fight couldn't be avoided, Hisako steeled herself.

"Casey," she hissed. "Stay here and-"

"Like hell I will." he interrupted.

Before Hisako could argue, he jumped up from behind the counter, charging towards the motorheads with a hockey stick in hand.

"Goongala!"

He caught one of the motorheads off guard, the blade of his stick getting him in the back of the neck. A second came to aid his fallen comrade, drawing a long sword as he ran. He attempted to slice at Casey, but fortunately, Casey brought his hockey stick up to block it just in time.

"A sword?" Casey noted sounding surprised. "What is this, medieval times?"

The motorhead didn't respond. He just continued to try and kill Casey with his sword, only for Casey to block each strike. Another motorhead came up behind him and prepared to attack, but before he could, he received a kick to the head from Hisako. Casey turned and looked surprised.

"Hisako?" Casey asked dumbfounded.

"Duck!" she ordered as she readied for a punch.

Casey ducked and she hit a motorhead in the gut. With a flip, she landed hard on the motorhead's helmeted face, knocking the guy unconscious. This left two more of attackers to deal with. Casey replaced his hockey stick, pulling out dual baseball bats instead. Hisako went back to back with him, drawing a single tessen and getting into a fighting stance. Casey looked over his shoulder at her in confusion as the two motorheads attacked.

"Since when do you know karate?" he asked, swinging his bats at his motorhead.

"I don't." She replied, slicing at hers with the edge of her fans. "It's ninjutsu."

"Gesundheit." he responded as he kicked his in the gut, then brought his bats down on the poor sap's back.

"No, Ninjutsu." she corrected, "The ancient Japanese art of stealth and combat. Like this."

She slid underneath the guy's legs, getting to her feet in a second and using her momentum to attack with a spin kick. The guy went flying out the only unbroken window, entangling in the blinds.

"Wow..." Casey muttered. "Remind me never to piss you off."

Outside, Hun was getting pissed.

"B-team, move in!" he ordered.

Thinking fast, Casey grabbed Hisako's uninjured hand, pulling her into the kitchen. They ducked into the pantry, closing the door just as the second wave came crashing in. Huddling in the darkness, Hisako tried to focus, figure out just how many attackers there were. Unfortunately, she was still shaken by the knowledge that her old life was trying to reclaim her, a realization that left her unable to focus. It also didn't help that Casey's brain was abuzz with questions.

"Hisako?" he hissed. "Who are these guys? Why are they after you? And how are you a frikken ninja?"

Hisako gave up trying to use her powers, turning to Casey.

"I'm a ninja because my father trained me to be one. And the term is Kunoichi."

"Okay, now I'm sure you're just making up words."

The two fell silent as a shadow passed over the door. They didn't even dare to breathe. Finally, the shadow passed and they sighed in relief.

"Keep searching men!" Hun's voice called from the front of the store. "Oracle's in their somewhere."

Once again, Hisako flinched at that name. She was okay with Leatherhead calling her Oracle, but anyone else using that name sent a chill up her spine.

"That reminds me." Casey whispered. "Why are these guys calling you Oracle? Just what are you to them?"

Hisako's breath caught in her throat. She stuttered for a moment, trying to come up with a suitable lie to tell him, but every excuse died on her tongue. She couldn't lie to Casey. He was one of the only friends she had that wasn't a mutant. Even when he had asked about her life, she had never outright lied to him. Omitted details, yes, but never lied. She couldn't start now.

"Oracle… is short for Project Oracle." she reluctantly explained. "It is what I was called before… Before I escaped."

Casey squinted in confusion.

"Project Oracle? Escaped? Just what is going on here?"

Hisako took a deep breath. This was gonna be hard.

"When I was little, I was the prisoner of a secret, privately owned laboratory. They held me against my will, torturing me and using me until I escaped four years ago."

Casey was stunned. He crouched there for a minute, his brain trying to process what he had just learned. Hisako had always said she'd had a rough childhood, but he never imagined being held captive in some lab. That's when another question arose.

"Why were you in a lab?" he asked. "What were they using you for?"

Hisako hesitated, but steeled herself and answered.

"They were using me- because of what I can do."

Casey was almost afraid to ask his next question.

"What… what can you do?"

Hisako took a deep breath.

"I can read minds…" she explained. "I'm telepathic."

Casey's eyes went wide. Hisako quickly raised up her hands to calm him down.

"I've only read your mind a few times, and only in the beginning when I was trying to see if I could trust you." she assured him. "I don't pry unless I have to."

"Okay good, because there are some thoughts that should not be witnessed by anyone other than the one who thought them." Casey said, then he slapped himself to get back on topic. "But that's for another time. Right now, we need to focus on the goons currently looking for you."

Hisako nodded, a lump forming in her stomach.

"They originally thought I was dead thanks to a friend of mine. I guess they somehow found out I'm still alive and set this trap for me." She pulled her legs closer to her, hugging herself. "And like a fool I walked right into it. Now they have me right where they want me, powerless and trapped."

Casey blinked in confusion

"Powerless?" he asked

"I'm too stressed, too scared, and I can't focus." she explained. "Trust me, I just tried."

Casey sighed, leaning against the wall next to her. Outside the pantry, they could hear Hun and his men tearing the restaurant apart looking for them. Hisako knew from experience that they wouldn't give up until she was found. She also knew it was only a matter of time before one of them finally looked in the pantry.

What am I gonna do? She thought to herself. I can't call my brothers, I can't use my powers, and there are way too many enemies to take on, even with Casey by my side.

Hisako closed her eyes, fighting back tears of pure fear. She knew what she had to do, and it terrified her.

"Casey, I need you to do something for me."

As if sensing what she was about to say, Casey pulled the mask off his face, looking Hisako in the eye.

"Whatever you're thinking, stop thinking it." he told her.

"Look, these guys are here for me. You might be able to get away if I draw their attention. And if you do, I have a chance of getting out of this as well."

"Hisako, no…"

"There's no other choice." By now, Hisako's throat felt as if there was a hot coal sitting in her windpipe. "I can give you a minute to get to my bike and get out of here."

She handed over a small key with a turtle shell key chain attached. Casey took it, the fear in Hisako's eyes reflected in his own.

"Hisako…"

"You know the warehouse district on the south side?" Hisako asked. "There's an old maintenance garage called Renaissance Motors. The building is decorated in Japanese Kanji and turtle shell designs. Go there and tell those you find there what happened here. Don't leave anything out."

Casey wanted to argue, wanted to convince her that this was a bad idea. He wanted to assure her that they could both escape, but not even he would believe his words. He just had to trust Hisako.

"Alright…" he said finally, his fist clenching around the key.

Hisako stood up, facing the pantry door. She wiped stray tears from her eyes and steeled herself.

God help me…

She kicked open the door of the pantry, drawing everyone's attention.

"You guys want me?" She asked, throwing her arms open. "Well here I am! Come and get me!"

The motorheads charged toward her with weapons drawn. Hisako ran towards them while Casey made his way to the back. Hisako used her Tessen to slice one motorhead in the chest while she elbowed another one. Keeping pace, she grabbed another one and threw him out the window. She jumped out the window as well and continued to duke it out with the motorheads. Hisako wasted no time taking out one after another. In a flurry of motion, she sliced at them with her tessen and kicked them to the ground, knocking them out cold. She knew she couldn't fight forever, but she had to hope she was buying Casey enough time, and, in the vainest hope, give herself a chance to escape herself.

Casey bolted out of the pantry, keeping low and using the kitchen's counters as protection from flying enemies and various cooking ware. He got to the back door, opening it hard enough to catch its guard in between the door and the wall.

"That's for getting in my way." he taunted as he stomped down hard on the guy's helmet.

He made it to Hisako's bike, turning to see if she could make a break for it with him. Unfortunately, one of the motorheads pulled out a taser stick and struck Hisako with it. She quickly kicked him in the stomach causing him to drop the stick. Before she could make another move, she was struck by another motorhead with a taser stick.

And another.

All too soon, she was overwhelmed with the amount of electricity surging through her body until she finally dropped to the ground.

"Hisako!" Casey shouted.

The remaining adversaries all turned to him as Hisako struggled to stay conscious. She met his eyes, and in that moment, he felt something enter his mind. He then heard a single word resonate through his entire body.

Run.

Casey jammed the key into the ignition, gunning the engine of the bike. A pair of motorheads attempted to intercept him, but he just sped right through them, his bat knocking them off their feet. He rounded a corner and disappeared, regretting every mile of his escape. Hisako allowed herself a small smile before blackness engulfed her.

Run Casey…

Her eyes closed as she sank to the ground. A pair of motorheads came and picked her up, holding the unconscious girl between them. Hun looked down at her, taking her face in his large fingers.

"Mission accomplished." Hun said with a sneer, dropping her face.

"What about the boy?" one of the men asked.

Hun turned to where the boy had been, his smile never diminishing.

"Let him run. He'll just make our job easier for us. After all, someone has to inform those freaks."

Hun then picked up Hisako's limp form, tossing her into the van, then climbing in himself. The doors slammed shut and the van drove off.

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