#also one of my comm clients are now ignoring me after i sent them the progress

[koko2unite]

I remember that comic getting demolished by beastars fans on twitter, they say it looks ugly and im ruining lougosi. months later when I got better I still got the same hate qrts from the same circle. baby's first mass harassment!

#lol #im flopping on twitter anyway #nobody even rt my art there anymore #my art be stuck in 200 likes... 7 rt #also one of my comm clients are now ignoring me after i sent them the progress #you know what #fuck them #im putting them on lowest priority #dont fucking waste my time #if you expect me to do it fast and if i got late i have to tell you why #then you should do the same #sorry got a lil busy irl i'll check it out later.. its that easy #ughhhh #no motivation. art block. flopping. trippe combo

[yrpspiritsintheshadows]

It’s Child’s Play

It’s Child’s Play

With the setup of the cameras and microphones all around the house, the investigation was underway.

Skyler was in the same room as the doll, sitting on the girl’s bed. 

Chase was situated in the living room, setting up for a ghost box session. Due to how focused the activity was, the team wasn’t as spread out as they usually were.

Lucian was situated in the parents’ room, sitting at the mother’s vanity, the light dimmed.

As Eiji watched it all, he kept his eyes specifically on the monitor to his left. On it, was a night vision camera, focused specifically on the doll itself. It was eerie to say the least, only watching it but it made sense.

The thermal imaging camera was nestled on a shelf by the doorway to Charlotte’s room, giving a readout of it and its inhabitants. 

An SLS camera was also set up, showing a rough field of vision. The SLS camera was to show anomalies as figures if they were in the room. One of the best ways to catch an apparition in the act.

We got all eyes on you, demon doll. 

Go ahead. 

Eiji leaned forward.

“Go ahead. Make my millennium.”

oooooo 

Skyler kept her focus on the doll, her EVP recorder in front of her as well as her pendulum.

“Well, looks like it’s just us, huh?” She asked. “Wanna tell me what your name is?”

Nothing. Not even a faint hint of movement from her pendulum.

“Alright…” She cleared her throat. “Yes or no, do you hate Charlotte?”

For a moment, all was quiet… until her pendulum moved back and forth.

Pendulums were meant to give yes or no questions specifically and had their own unique way of movement for each one.

For Skyler, yes was back and forth.

“Why do you hate Charlotte?”

In the nerve center, Eiji nearly jumped out of his seat when the room went down in temperature. There was a figure, a large one, standing in the imagery of the SLS camera.

After a few moments, Skyler picked up her recorder and played it back.

“Jealous. Living.”

“You’re jealous she’s alive?” She let it go for another moment before playing it back.

“Dumb brat.”

Skyler narrowed her eyes. She let the recorder go again.

At that moment, the doll's hand snapped up as the woman leaned back away from it.

“Skyler.” Eiji’s voice came through on her comm. “There’s a figure where the doll is supposed to be on the camera. Keep going.”

“R-Right.” She cleared her throat. “Alright, why possess a doll?”

The EVP recorder shook a bit before Skyler lifted it up off the bed.

A monstrous voice hissed.

“She opened the door.”

What?

“What door?”

Skyler looked around, eyes narrowing. If Charlotte hadn’t been fully honest with them then they had a whole slew of issues now.

“What door did she open!?”

Something clattered behind her. She slowly turned as the cabinet beneath the shelf the thermal imaging camera was on flew open.

A single large piece of wood fell out. Even in the dimmed light, Skyler could make out the patterns.

Oh, you have to be kidding me.

oooooo

“Oh, you have to be freakin kidding me.” Eiji muttered, a growl low in his throat.

There was no mistaking it. The wood… was a spirit board. 

Of course. Someone played with the board and opened a door then didn’t close it.

He was furious. His clients were supposed to be 100% honest about ALL of the happenings but this girl had not said anything about using a spirit board.

Yes, it’s a tool… but it’s a dangerous tool if in the wrong hands or in the hands of someone who is ignorant with it.

The doll on the camera to his left moved its hand up and down… waving.

Uuuuughh!

Eiji grabbed his communicator.

“Alright, team, be aware we might have multiple entities! The spirit just mocked Skyler by showing that this gal opened up a portal. I repeat, there is a spirit board in the house.”

“Oh, you have to be KIDDING me!!!” Lucian groaned. “Are you freakin kidding me right now?”

“Welp, we’re in for a long night.” Chase sighed heavily. 

Eiji sat back down in his chair, lowering his head.

Of course… Of course when I accept a freaking haunted doll case it turns into something worse. 

He looked up at the SLS camera. Skyler was virtually surrounded by multiple entities around her that she couldn’t see.

“Sky… Sky you have to move. Now. Get out of there.”

She moved to respond… as the doll’s eyes rolled into the back of its head, showing only the whites of the glass eyes. 

Skyler’s hand moved to her throat as she gagged, gasping for air. 

“Luce! Charlotte’s room, now! Sky’s in trouble!”

Nerve center be darned. 

All three men rushed to the room. By the time they got there, Skyler was thrown back against the wall, trying to get any kind of air in. Her vision was dotted with black spots. She could barely see her team.

“Skyler!!!”

Eiji slammed a spell tag onto the doorway as the air rushed from the room. 

Skyler fell forward, inhaling as the force around her airway faded. She gagged, coughing as she tried to catch her breath.

“Easy, easy…” Lucian knelt by her, patting her back. “Deep breathes… Lemme get a look.”

“R-Right.” She tilted her head up, small bruises just like on Charlotte’s neck on her own.

“Dangit…” Lucian looked to Eiji. “Alright, Boss, what do we do? This wasn’t what we signed on for.”

Eiji looked down at the spirit board then up to the doll on the shelf.

“I…” He hated leaving clients without all the help they could get. But this… this was getting dangerous. It wasn’t like they hadn't been scratched or pushed before or even outright thrown.

Choking was entirely new. Not to mention, they were out numbered. 

“... We finish the game.” He finally said, with a frustrated sigh, picking up the board and finding the planchette after a moment. “I hate this.”

“Whoa, WHOA.” Chase clamped a hand on his arm, giving him a warning look. “I thought our policy said, no spirit boards, even if you know how to use them because it’s unpredictable.”

“The thing is, we use tools similar. We just know our limits, like with the pendulum. We’re finishing what this kid started.” He narrowed his eyes. “We’re not going to do more than that. Just make it clear we’re going to say “goodbye” and then we’re confiscating it too.”

Chase narrowed his eyes.

“You’re not comfortable with that.”

It wasn’t a question. 

Eiji flinched, lowering his head.

“The portal is gonna stay open no matter what we do if we just leave now. I’d rather cleanse the house AND close it.”

Chase let him go, letting out a sigh.

“Alright, you heard the boss.” He went over to Skyler and Lucian, helping Skyler to her feet. “You get the salt, I got Sky.”

Lucian nodded.

“Right… I’m making it clear now, I am one hundred percent against this.”

“I think we all are.” Skyler sighed, rubbing her neck.

Eiji looked towards the doll. 

This was still, all too familiar.

“AAAHHH!!!!”

“Carmen!? Carmen what’s-Oh Divine! CARMEN!!!!”

oooooo 

In time, there was a thick circle of salt around the dining room table, the board set up on it. Four candles lit, representing the four corners around it.

The team had already gone through the house with sage burning or with sprays made of salt water that had been blessed by one of Eiji’s relatives.

It was time to close the portal.

The four sat down, all hesitantly taking hold of the planchette. 

“Divine, I don’t think I’ve done this since highschool.” Lucian hissed under his breath.

“Dude, we all did this once in highschool. Right, Eiji?”

Eiji gave him a look.

“Memoria Coven, do you think I was using ouija boards? My mom would’ve smacked me with her slippers.” 

“Good point.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath.

“We are here to finish what was started. To end what has begun.” He spoke, the planchette shaking wildly under their fingertips, moving across the board to the “NO” painted on the right side.

“Too bad, it’s time.” He growled. 

The piece moved again at such a pace that it broke free from their grip. It moved across the board over several letters, spelling out a message… a message that sent a chill through Eiji’s being. 

“I KNOW YOUR FACE.”

“Knows who’s face?” He asked, growling a little.

“SON OF MIYAMOTO.”

Eiji’s eyes widened in horror, leaning back in his seat.

“Leggo! Put me down! NAOMI, RUN!!!!” 

“Oh, don’t worry. I will, Son of Miyamoto.”

Don’t be afraid.

It can't’ get you now.

Eiji took control of the planchette, shuddering as a wave of energy washed over him, causing him to tremble.

This dark, foreboding energy… He knew it. He knew it very well.

“I’m not ten years old anymore.” He whispered. “I end this portal and I close it now! BE GONE!!!”

He forced the planchette over the goodbye symbol as a loud scream echoed through the house, the sound of glass shattering in Charlotte’s room.

Eiji panted, sitting back down, putting his head in his hands. 

Lucian stroked his back, giving him a concerned look.

“What the heck was that?”

The man didn’t look up, shaking his head wildly.

“Give… Give me a few minutes.”

What the heck? We… We sent that thing to the other side almost twenty years ago.

“Luce. Help me with this piece of trash.” Chase nodded to the board, a grim look in the man’s eyes.

Lucian sighed, getting up, grabbing it.

“We’re burning this. We can burn it now right?” 

“We can.” 

Skyler got up, heading to Charlotte’s room, not surprised to see the doll had basically exploded off of the shelf, pieces of fabric and porcelain all over the room, one glass eye in front of the doorway, looking up at her.

“Yeah, we’re definitely done here. Chase! Where’s the broom?”

Eiji tuned out his team for the most part, trying to process what had just happened.

That energy… he recognized that energy from long ago. 

Back when he was young.

Back when his closest friends were spirits.

Back when I had eyes like Ken’s.

He slammed his fist into the table, getting up.

“I’m packing up!” He called, starting to get the equipment from the nerve center. 

He didn't expect to have two things from his past drug up like this. Far from it.

From the case that led to a month long nightmare for himself and his wife… to something that happened long ago.

This is why I don’t do haunted objects. 

Lesson learned, never ever AGAIN.

Just… why now?

Eiji looked at the monitors with a heavy sigh.

I have a bad feeling this isn’t it.

… But I can worry about all this later though.

I just wanna go home.

“Eiji.”

He looked up as Chase gave him a worried look.

“You look exhausted. You want me to handle this?”

“Nah, I’m fine… Really.”

“Let me help you at least.” 

As they cleared the house of the investigation, no one mentioned the message on the board. They all knew the story. Eiji hadn’t bothered to hide it when they were teenagers and hadn’t tried to hide it when they were in college either and Lucian joined the team.

Right now, their concern was their friend and making sure he was alright.

#Spirits in the Shadows #Eiji Miyamoto #Chase Armati #Lucian Anameches #Skyler Nicks #Spirits #SiTS #Original work #original writing #writeblr #webseries #paranormal #paranormal investigators #PACK

[bucky-is-a-hero-fightme]

In Your Heartbeat (3/16)

IN YOUR HEARTBEAT MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky/Reader, Natasha/Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2200 approx.

Warnings: None, I think. Does my shitty writing count as a warning tho? Heh.

Summary: Project Insight has failed, and the small team Natasha has gathered in Washington sighs in relief as news of the Captain pulling through reach their ears. A conversation with Steve will reveal more about your past to the team, but there are still many things you doubt about who you are, what you remember.

A/N: This series is gonna be pretty short, compared to my other works, but I needed to write something to dig myself out of the hole I got into after finishing It’s All Lies, Darling.

Also, I promise Natasha is not a bad guy here. She has her reasons, you’ll hopefully see.

Please let me know what you think! My ask is always open if you have any questions or if you want to request something! Thank you, and happy reading!

"Why are you saying that name, Natalia!?"

She can only look at you, big eyes staring back at you in a mix of anguish and terror.

"Natalia, why did he say it!?" You scream, but next thing you knew, they're putting a rifle to the back of your head and forcing you on your knees.

"Nat..." You whisper, tears filling your eyes. Your sister won't even look at you, "That's not my name...is it?"

You stuck to the shadows after the battle in the bridge, keeping the Ghost's gauntlet and trying to keep the connection alive for the next encounter of your sister or Steve with him, that was bound to happen any time soon.

You tried helping the Captain through the comms, predicting when the Asset would strike, when he would raise his gun at his former best friend and when he would use the metal arm to gain an advantage. But relaying information is not as easy as going through the motions when you are taking your part in the fight. The Captain fell, but so did Hydra.

Days spent by the bedside of a man you did not know, feeling tendrils of what could be and trying to strengthen the thread that tied his soul to survival end perseverance, even though you knew he did not need your powers to do that. But Steve had become your sister's confidant, your sister's friend, he had been at her side when you hadn't, he had risked his life for her over and over. You owe him, even if you are never planning on letting him know that.

When the Captain wakes up, Sam tells you and your sister about it with a smile, and you three go inside to greet the man born again.

"Well, that's a good nap you took there, sailor." Natalia teases, to which the blond answeres with a sardonic twist of his broken lip. It is apparently enough for your sister to relax, and reach out to take his hand, squeezing once before letting go, "I'm gonna go tell Fury and the rest you are alive. Welcome back, Steve."

He watches her go, and when Sam tells him he is going to go to his house, planning on getting a very much earned shower and sleep on a real bed; you are left alone with the man if the shield, only now the person looking back at you is a man that had seen his world crumble at his feet.

"I know you have no reason to trust me and much less confide me with anything, but...with Natasha as your sister, why have you hid all this time?"

"Trying to find another cause to protect, Captain?"

"Trying to find another friend." He states simply, eyes holding your own. You take a deep breath, releasing it with practiced calm.

"Natasha was the best thing Hydra got away with making. She was the best student, the best assassin and the best fighter," You start, not even trying to mask the pride you feel for your big sister at being so strong, so resilient. You shrug your shoulders and continue, "And surprise surprise, she had a sister."

"They tried to get you." He says, but you shake your head.

"They had already tried. They...when they raided our home in Seversk I-I managed to escape, hid until I was sure they wouldn't come for me. Worst mistake of my life. I was nineteen when they took me from my foster's family house.

"They had the same plans for me as they did for my sister, but I wasn't sent to the same program. The Red Room was not the only new project they had. I was tested with an experimental serum, similar to yours but looking to exploit a hidden sequence of the DNA that allows humans to manipulate elements...transcending this plane. Like time, or probability.

You smile sadly, closing your eyes for a bit and seeing the nurse open the door to the Captain's room with a smile before you open them and hear the knock on the door.

There’s a small moment of chat between the blonde and the helpful woman, and you take the time to focus on Steve’s energy, trying to find if his intentions lie on using your information against you. But the thread is almost non-existent, the one that shows him using your own secrets against you, so, when the nurse leaves, you let your eyes find Steve's baby blue ones again.

"I escaped after the serum worked, I had the advantage. They let me, figured it was going to cost more to chase me than to let me go. But then...then Nat started excelling after her first missions were proven successful, she became their most prized possession and...my name started meaning I was the next best thing, I guess. And they wanted me. They wanted another one of the Romanova family.

You breathe a laugh that sounds too weak to your own ears.  Keeping your eyes firmly on the machine showing the Captain’s heartrate, you continue.

"Natalia fought with claws and teeth to get their gaze from me, but never managed it. I spent thirty years, maybe, running from my identity, from my powers, from...everything. I got so used to preventing their tracking methods of me, that I ended up becoming one of the best trackers in our line of work.

"That's how you got Hydra to send the Winter Soldier after you?" Steve asks, voice low and soothing even though he is the one in the hospital bed.

"Yeah, putting me and my sister together against the whole of Hydra was not the best case scenario. They thought sending their Ghost to kill me would get her back to their side. But it didn't, she is my sister, we...even though he hadn't been side to side for years, we were still of the same blood, nothing could get between that. So, we got used to it, and started working together, I tracked her victims, she took 'em down. Perfect duo."

"That doesn't explain why you don't say your real name now."

You swallow past the knot in your throat, and show him a tight-lipped smile, "I don't know it. Hydra erased the files on me, Natasha chooses to forget it."

You see him frown, sympathetic blue eyes searching your own, "That's..."

"Efficient," You interrupt, standing up and putting up the mask you have perfected for over sixty years, "Names are a burden, especially in a line of work like mine, Captain."

You ran from Washington as soon as the Captain was out of danger, with Natalia at your back.

When Natalia outed the files, you made quick work of un-encrypting the files on the Ghost, reaching for every friend and every contact you had around the world to see the information presented to you without Hydra's obstacles in the way.

It was all waiting for you in your office in Moscow. You hadn't been there in months by now. You couldn't.

Not yet, not with so many questions in your head.

You are sitting on the old couch in one of our houses in Moldova, pen on your hand as you tap relentlessly on a white notepad, when a question leaves your lips before you can think of whether or not you should ask it.

"Do you remember your soulmate's name, Nat?"

"I don't."

"Don't you wanna know? I can get you hooked up and read in a blink of an eye." You offer, leaving the notepad on the coffee table and standing up, walking towards your sister.

She looks up with narrowed eyes, and stops your movement with a gentle hand on your forearm.

"What's this about, Solnyska?"

"You remember how we used to fold paper cranes?" You smile, stalling the conversation you are too afraid to take head-on, but still taking a seat next to the redhead as she keeps those all-knowing eyes on yours.

"Yeah. An old-wives tale about meeting your soulmate if you managed to get to the thousandth." She concedes, letting go of your arm and signaling for you to lay on her. You do, head popped on your sister's shoulder as she runs a hand through your hair. "Is this about what happened in Washington?"

You shrug, "I think I... saw a-a weird sort of future."

"Will you tell me what happened?" She asks soothingly, every bit the big sister, but you lift your head and look her in the eyes instead.

"Will you?" You accuse, eyebrows raised at her.

"What?"

"That name, Natalia. Who does he think I am? What does that name mean?"

She shakes her head, "I don't know, Solnyshka."

Your response is interrupted by the annoying buzzing sound coming from your phone.

"You won't believe the kind of clients I'm getting." The voice on the other side of the phone brags, and you roll your eyes as you approach the notepad and ready yourself to scribble down the data Elena, one of your contacts on Russia needs you to get on a soulmate.

"I'm listening."

"I don't need you to find anybody, I did that all by myself. But I need you to give some information to your sister."

"What is it?"

"The man that broke havoc in Washington a couple of months ago? He tracked me down. Looking for someone."

"The Asset is needing your help?" You ask, ignoring how Natalia stands up from the couch and stalks over to you, trying to ask questions.

"He goes by Bucky now, I believe." The girl on the other side muses, "Anyhow, I'm gonna forward you an audio clip of the call he made. See if your team can get anything from it. Or maybe just send it to Captain Rogers, he may want to hear it."

You can see Natalia already leaning over the table, scouting the secure channels you have with your contacts in search of the audio she heard Elena say she was going to send.

Your heart beats painfully inside your chest. For years you have tried to ignore the voice inside your head that tells you Natasha’s hunt for the Winter Soldier is something more thana  personal vendetta to avenge you, something more than simply evening the ground for him almost taking you away from her.

You know your sister is hiding something from you, something big and something that is going to force a distance between you two that not even Hydra, with over thirty years of keeping you apart, managed to do.

You whisper your goodbye to Elena just as you see Natalia click play on the audio.

The Ghost's voice fills the room, “You have a reputation for finding people.”

"Who do you want me to find, specifically?" Elena asked, and you can hear the typing on the background.

"Y/N, Y/N Romanova." The soldier answers mechanically, though you can hear a tint of fear in his voice.

Romanova. Pain and fear clutch your heart with an iron grip. You are about to speak when Elena sighs, and provides her answer.

"Unfortunately, she is dead."

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Sargeant Barnes. Miss Romanova died years ago."

You hear ruffling on the other side of the line, and a few beats go by before the soldier speaks again,

"No, no that...t-that cannot be right. We...people don't, we don't die, we...we wait for each other."

"We cannot die of old age, true. But I'm afraid she was killed."

"N-No..."

Elena goes on. You would comment on the way she goes so mechanically to tell a man someone he clearly cared for was dead, if it weren't for the fact that you had done worse, way worse.

"According to my file, on 1963, she was injected with an experimental poison. Her body couldn't handle it. I'm sorry for your loss, Sargeant."

A choked sound leaves the man's lips, too close to a sob,

"That c-cannot be...Oh, God..."

"Sargeant Barnes?"

"No, I...I remember..."

The call ends abruptly, a sequence of numbers following it in what seems to be the date and time of the call.

Heart heavy, you turn to your sister. You want her to reassure you, like the big sister she has always been, that it will all be alright. You want her to wrap her arms around you and speak with that raspy voice of hers about how it is all a mistake, a mishap. You want her to tell you that though that girl they talked about matches your life piece for piece except for the date of her death, it is not you the Ghost is after. You want her to tell you she hasn't lied, not about something like this.

But when your eyes meet hers, and you see, for the first time in so long, tears brimming in Black Widow's eyes, you lose all hope.

"What is my name, Natalia?"

If you wanna be tagged, lemme know! Love you!

#bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucke barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natalia romanova #natalia romanova x reader #soulmate au #bucky barnes fanfiction #reader insert #mcu #marvel #bucky angst #bucky...fluff? someday

[wizardsnwookies]

FOC011718 - New Friends(?)

“Shail is still recovering from the public bombing of political hopeful Numb Nib several days ago. The final total of those killed were 27 casualties, three of which were Numb and two of his personal guards, the rest almost entirely civilian. While Nar Shaddaa is not unfamiliar with shady dealings and organized crime, the collateral damage has the public stirred up and on edge.

“While repairs are being made to the area local Imperial officials as well as Shail Metropolitan enforcement begin a troubled investigation. Sources say the organizations are still struggling with jurisdiction, the imperials far more concerned with the death of one of their own, while local enforcement point to the heavy casualties as grounds for a local investigation.

“In the political world Traad Araan has suggesting that rebel sympathizers are behind the attack. He says, quote...

‘The war has been brought to Smuggler’s Moon, there is no longer any denying it. If we are to stay safe and independent, we must take no sides in the matter. Nar Shaddaa has always conducted things its own way, there’s no reason to change that now.’

“Viewers may recognize this neutral stance as the platform of the ever elusive Polski Marr who has continued his campaign in seclusion for unknown reasons in the last few months. His office has released a statement on the bombing however, condemning the actions of those involved and offering his condulences to the families the victims.”

Rugor clicked off the holos. He was getting bored. They all were. Aisha had contacted them immediately following the bombing, and from her tone she did not seem all too pleased. The message was brief, and cold. Stay low. Let the heat die down, and she will contact them when she had made a decision.

“Made a decision.” Vrssl didn’t like the sound of that. Graalbar grumbled about never trusting her to begin with, but then the same argument between the two just ran through it’s circles once again for the millionth time.

Graakus couldn’t be trusted. Aisha was a convenient way out of that relationship. It was the same territory tread over and over again. Rugor found himself hanging out in the cockpit more and more just so he wouldn’t have to hear it, making minor setting adjustments, and tooling around on the holonet to see what he could get away with.

It was on the third day that the comm link finally rang. Rugor sent the call to the lounge and stood from the pilot’s chair. It was about time.

“I’m not going to lie, I’m not happy gentlemen.” Aisha’s voice was hollow, she spoke curtly through the connection and frequently spaced her words, choosing them carefully.

“What’s the problem? He’s dead isn’t he?” Vrssl waved off a sour look from Graalbar.

“Yes, but so are 25 innocent civilians.”

“Meh, you make an omlette...etc. etc.”

“Sigh...it makes me wonder about our relationship. Believe it or not I care for these people. I built my organization around helping the community, not taking advantage of it like Graakus.”

“Well, choose your words more carefully next time.”

“I wasn’t so sure there would be a next time...but, unfortunately due to your skills and your position I have decided you are too valuable assets to waste.”

Vrssl smiled and nodded towards Graalbar. The wookie still wasn’t convinced of anything with this Tongruta.

GRAAAHHHH ROOONK

Over the comm they could hear Aisha breath heavily through her nose at Graalbar’s grunts. “I suppose you can’t continue working for free, no. Fine. This one LAST chance to prove yourselves will be paid for, regardless as to whether or not our relationship continues beyond.”

RAAARW

“How familiar are you with the workings of the Arena?” Aisha ignored the comment and moved on.

GRAAAAH RRAAAWR

“You’re half right. Not all the competitors are voluntary. As I’ve stated before Graakus deals in slaves, but it’s much more than that. His arena and the surrounding complex lives on the backs of slaves. His personal attendants, the Gamemaster, and a full stable of fighters are all claimed as he personal property.

“Not only that, but a significant amount of money, his money, runs through that arena whether it be profits from gambling or laundered through it. Shutting it down would be a significant blow to him and his filthy organization. It would also spare the lives of dozens of slaves.

“That’s your job. Prove to me we are on the same wavelength. Shutter the games, free the slaves, and then we can work together. You have two days.”

Everyone in the room just sat and thought for a moment before Vrssl leaned forward and muted the transmission.

“Well, what’s everyone think?”

GRAAAAH RAAAWWR

“I know you’re not, but I’m not a big fan of the slave trade.”

“Neither am I.” Rugor chimed in. “What’s his problem?” Shirwook was still evading him, and he didn’t have his translator tablet on him at the moment.

“He doesn’t want the games shut down.” Kara explained. “I’m ambivalent frankly. It made us a lot of money. Not to mention I’m not too keen on giving that bitch everything she asks for just because she wants to have the warm fuzzies.”

“Either way, this is a point of no return for us and Graakus.” Vrssl thought aloud. This was the chance he was looking for, but there was one thing. One possible complication that had been on his mind. He looked at Kara. “What’re your thoughts? You’ve been with him, what, a few years?”

“Five, what’s your point?”

“I dunno, are there any...loyalties...we should worry about?” Vrssl studied her carefully. He liked Kara, maybe even trusted her...mostly....but the question was a valid one.

“Not really.” She shrugged. “I’m sure we can find someone who pays better, and is less temperamental. Besides, just because I’m human doesn’t mean I’m a fan of the alien slave trade. I’m down for whatever you guys want to do.”

“Good to know.”

“But you’re right on one thing. This is the point of no return guys. We screw over Graakus, we need to get out of the system as soon as we can.”

“Agreed.”

RAAAAAAAWRRRR

“Oh, absolutely.” Vrssl and Kara both smiled. It seems Graalbar was also of the mind that a job of this magnitude would have to set Aisha back quite a few credits. “So, we all in agreement then? We take the job?”

There were no objections, and so Vrssl leaned over the table and switched the audio receivers back on.

“Ok, we’re in...for 1 million credits.”

There was stark silence over the comm, followed by a whispered curse. “I don’t know what I expected. You are mercenaries after all. I’ll have to think on this. I’ll contact you this evening with my decision.”

---

“It’s a shame this is the right ship. Saw a cute pair of brown eyes heading his way to the hanger next door. Maybe once I have a few drinks in me I’ll get lost and ask for directions.” Charmer smarmed his way up the ramp a cheap bottle of Rot dangling in his hand. Although he never really dressed on occasion to begin with, he still managed to look far more casual than they were used to seeing him.The sabaac table was already set up in the lounge, and as he rounded the corner and saw the green felt his eyes lit up. He didn’t usually get personal calls from clients, but when Vrssl mentioned cards it was rather easy to stop asking questions.

He had been good on his word, surprisingly, and hadn’t visited a table since they found out about his little debt to Aisha but that little inconvenience was no longer an issue. When he went to make his latest payment it was rejected with a message claiming all debt had been forgiven on his account. Again, it was rather easy to stop asking questions and take this little blessing. He got so few of them

“Kara, always a pleasure. Glad to see the boys got you back safe and sound.”

“Took them long enough though.” Kara teased, pouring herself a drink from the dry bar setup on a fold down table on the wall before finding her seat. 

Rugor was already shuffling the deck, the chips already in place.“We could have just taken our money and left your scrawny ass there.” He dealt out the starting hand one by one. Graalbar took his seat next to Charmer, putting him inbetween the wookie and Vrssl around the table.

“My ass is many things-- toned, tan, perfect to name a few --but scrawny isn’t one of them. What’re the stakes?”

“Good question.” Charmer smiled at the comradere between Kara and the three aliens. He’d known her since she started taking jobs for the Hutt five years ago. She was always the loner type, but somehow she had found a place in this group and seemed to be fitting in rather comfortably.

“100 credits, each.” Vrssl took up his cards and reviewed his hand, immediately tossing in a chip to the pot to mark his acceptance into the round.“500 at stake? Chump change for you guys now isn’t it?”

“We’re just having fun here tonight, no need to go overboard.” Vrssl shrugged. “You in or what?”

“Oh, I’m in.”

---

Charmer leaned back in his his seat and surveyed the damage, which didn’t take long as there was a vast spance of empty space on the table in front of him. Meanwhile everyone else had some amount of chips piled up, either braking even, or in Vrssl’s case, cleaning up completely.

“Well. I think this is where I bow out. Thanks for showing me a good time, this uh...actually doesn’t happen all that often.”

“You keep bringing the credits for us to take off your hands and you’re welcome back anytime.” Vrssl smirked.

“Yeah...oh, speaking of which.” Charmer leaned forward a bit and lowered his voice to a whisper, more out of habit than anything. “Just between you guys an me. There’s another arena battle going on tomorrow night, if I were you, I’d bet everything on the house.”

GRAAAAH RONKKK

“The house?” Vrssl translated.

“Yeah, no champion and challenger this time. This is something special. Every now and then Graakus has a someone he wants to...be rid of. If he thinks they’ll put on a good show for the crowd, he’ll have the Gamemaster setup a no-win scenario and lets nature takes its course if you know what I mean.”

Looks were exchanged between the table. Here was the crucial moment. They had discussed it at length before the bookie arrived. Graalbar knew his role and made a show of stretching and moving about the room as if to give his muscles some exercise after the long game. He conveniently positioned himself between the Charmer and the nearest exit.

“It’s funny you say that. Graakus actually gave us a job along similar lines not too long ago.” Vrssl looked down at the chips in front of him, methodically stacking them in neat towers as he spoke.

“Aisha? Yeah, I heard. Whatever happened with that anyways? Heard you guys were sent running with your tail between your legs...no offense.”

“Of course...and we’re working on that little venture, but that’s not what I was referring to.

“See, Graakus wasn’t too happy when we told him that Nik the Dick had managed to get the information on our little trip to Siskeen.”

Charmer suddenly felt his heart leap into his throat. His eyes shifted as casually as he could manage, making note of the door and the large wookie standing in front of it. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah. He knew that meant he had a leak in his organization, and he hired us to...well...plug it.” Vrssl locked eyes with the scarred face of the human across the table. All subtlety was gone. In that moment, Charmer leapt from his chair and made way for the door, hoping beyond hope that he could somehow maneuver his way around the massive hairy arms reaching for him.

The wookie found a firm grip on the back of his neck and dragged him back towards the table, spinning him around to face the rest of the room. Even Kara had a look of dead seriousness about her now.

“Awww jeeze, come on guys don’t do this!!”

“Calm down Charmer. If we were going to kill you would we have sat here and played Sabaac with you all night?”

“Sure, to take my money!”

GRAAAAAH

“He’s right, dead men are easier to rob than poor players.” Vrssl stood on his chair and leaned against the back rest.

“Then...why tell me?”

“We wanted all the cards on the table, so to speak. See, we’re taking down Graakus, and we wanted to give you the heads up but we needed to make sure there weren’t any loyalties that would lead you to rat us out.”

“In which case we WOULD have to kill you.” Rugor pointed out.

“You...you’re taking him out?” Charmer blinked, he still wasn’t fully reassured as to his own safety, if anything, this kind of information endangered his life even more with the hutt than before. “For Aisha, I assume.”

“For the 1 million credits she just agreed to pay us, yes.” Vrssl walked across the table to put himself eye to eye with the human nearly three times his height. “But we have to do it before tomorrow night, she thinks she’s some kind of idealist and wants all the slaves freed before the next battle.”

“So while we appreciate the insider info, we probably aren’t going to need it.” Kara smiled, finishing her drink and setting it down gently on the table. 

“...so...you aren’t going to kill me?”

“No.”

Charmer let this process for a moment. It still didn’t add up to him. He was a nobody, a two bit jobs broker with a busted face and a hopeless gambling addiction. He worked all the angles, trying to work out how helping him out benefitted them in some way, and he found nothing.

“Why are you doing this for me?”

Graalbar reached to his belt and pressed a button on his vocoder and a hollowly pleasant voice sounded a single word.

[[FRIEND.]]

“...r-really?” Charmer looked back and forth between each face in the room, stunned.

“Well, you have made us a LOT of money.” Vrssl laughed.

“Guys...I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. In fact, you CAN’T say anything. Not a word about this to anyone.”

“No, no of course not. I’ve got no loyalties to that hutt, even before he hired you to kill me. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just lay low, we’ve got this covered.”

---

“I’m sorry sir, but you really can’t be here.” The twilek looked up at Graalbar with overall air of annoyance. The wookie had shown up unannounced and strode his way through the staging areas of the arena demanding to see tomorrow’s fighter. He wasn’t expecting trouble, there was no possible way he knew who it was that would be in the arena tomorrow. The wookie was arrogant, brash, and saw himself as a great warrior. He had assessed this over the several times he had met him over the past few weeks. There was no threat here. Still, it always paid to be cautious, thus the pair of Magnaguard droids flanking him in the hallway.

GRRRRAAAAAAH

“The contender is resting at the moment. And besides, you can understand our policy against private assessments of fighters before public wagering has begun.”

Graalbar had hoped he would have gotten a bit further into the complex before being stopped. Just beyond the annoying man and his tin cans he could see a bustling hallway of attendants making preparations through a transparasteel window in the security door. That was where he needed to be. 

RAAAWWRRR GRAAH

The twilek’s manufactured politeness dropped and his smile faded. “Why don’t you do that. See what he says about it. I’m sure he’ll tell you the same thing, that is IF he feels like explaining his policies to mindless fighters like yourself.”

Graalbar bared his teeth in a wide smile, hiding his frustration. This wasn’t unexpected, and in that very moment “plan B” was crawling its way out of his fur and skittering along the walls and hiding among the ceiling tiles. Still, he didn’t like wasting his time.

GRRRAH

“Good choice. Have a nice day, and do feel free to place your wagers anyways. It will be quite the match I assure you.” His phoney smile returning, the twilek turned on his heels and disappeared beyond the security door, droids in tow. Unseen by all, Vrssl’s tiny spy droid followed in the brief moments before the durasteel slab slammed shut behind them.

The hall beyond was a buzz with activity, and peering through the open doors and transparasteel windows it became clear why. Beyond that door held the entirety of the slave quarters. Attendants made their way up and down the hall, carrying various pieces of equipment and datapads. All of them stopped to report to the man in charge, the Gamemaster. Dressed in flowing blues he personally addressed everything that was brought before him, making adjustments and orders as needed to prepare for tomorrow’s execution.

“How many do you count?” Vrssl broke contact with the viewing screen to ask Rugor. On the right side of the hall, rows of large holding cells ran the entire length, each holding a what appeared to be dozens of slaves both human and alien.

“47, including the Gamemaster.” Rugor checked his datapad. “Aisha’s estimate makes an even fifty.”

“Margin of error?”

“One or two, not five. What about there?” To the left Rugor pointed out turn in the hall. As the droid skittered along the ceiling it revealed a short passage with large security doors on either side, about half dozen in total.

“Bingo.” Vrssl changed the droid into flight mode and hovered dead even with the observation windows for each door. These cells were different, smaller, obviously meant to hold only a single prisoner. The insides were softer, no sharp angles, hard surfaces, or exposed light fixtures. Their occupants made the reasoning for this abundantly clear.

They had found the missing five within the cells, the hard cases. In one a small human female sat bound to her cot, a plastisteel mesh covering her face, her eyes burning with intensity. An aqualish paced the floor in another cell, large gashes in the padding hung on the walls. Everyone looked like they very much belonged there. They were dangerous, vicious. 

That was until they found the oddity in the group. In the final cell on the right side sat a young human male who, by all appearances, was wholly unremarkable. He sat on his cot, leg bent at the knee as he stared off into the distance. Vrssl couldn’t tell why he was there. As far as he could tell, he was just a regular human, with short straw colored hair and a tan jacket. That was until he saw the emblem emblazened on his shoulder. It was the unmistakable red wings of the rebellion.

#Star Wars Saga Edition #campaign diary #role playing games #fistful of credits

[jccamus]

Lord of the Rings, 2020 and Stuffed Oreos: Read the Andrew Bosworth Memo

Lord of the Rings, 2020 and Stuffed Oreos: Read the Andrew Bosworth Memo https://ift.tt/2FpDoEm

On Dec. 30, Andrew Bosworth, a longtime Facebook executive and confidant of Mark Zuckerberg, wrote a long memo on the company’s internal network.

In the post, titled “Thoughts for 2020,” Mr. Bosworth — who oversaw Facebook’s advertising efforts during the 2016 election and is now in charge of the company’s virtual and augmented reality division — admitted that President Trump’s savvy use of Facebook’s advertising tools “very well may lead to” his re-election. But he maintained that the company should not change its policies on political advertising, saying that doing so in order to avert a victory by Mr. Trump would be a misuse of power, comparing it to a scene from “The Lord of the Rings.”

Mr. Bosworth, who is seen by some inside Facebook as a proxy of sorts for Mr. Zuckerberg, also weighed in on a variety of issues that have vexed Facebook for the past few years, including data privacy scandals, Russian interference, political polarization and the debate over whether Facebook is healthy for society.

Here is the full post as written:

Thoughts for 2020

The election of Donald Trump immediately put a spotlight on Facebook. While the intensity and focus of that spotlight may be unfair I believe it isn’t unjust. Scrutiny is warranted given our position in society as the most prominent of a new medium. I think most of the criticisms that have come to light have been valid and represent real areas for us to serve our community better. I don’t enjoy having our flaws exposed, but I consider it far better than the alternative where we remain ignorant of our shortcomings.

One trap I sometimes see people falling into is to dismiss all feedback when they can invalidate one part of it. I see that with personal feedback and I see it happening with media coverage. The press often gets so many details wrong it can be hard to trust the veracity of their conclusions. Dismissing the whole because of flaws in parts is a mistake. The media has limited information to work with (by our own design!) and they sometimes get it entirely wrong but there is almost always some critical issue that motivated them to write which we need to understand.

It is worth looking at the 2016 Election which set this chain of events in motion. I was running our ads organization at the time of the election and had been for the four years prior (and for one year after). It is worth reminding everyone that Russian Interference was real but it was mostly not done through advertising. $100,000 in ads on Facebook can be a powerful tool but it can’t buy you an American election, especially when the candidates themselves are putting up several orders of magnitude more money on the same platform (not to mention other platforms).

Instead, the Russians worked to exploit existing divisions in the American public for example by hosting Black Lives Matter and Blue Lives Matter protest events in the same city on the same day. The people who shows up to those events were real even if the event coordinator was not. Likewise the groups of Americans being fed partisan content was real even if those feeding them were not. The organic reach they managed sounds very big in absolute terms and unfortunately humans are bad at contextualizing big numbers. Whatever reach they managed represents an infinitesimal fraction of the overall content people saw in the same period of time and certainly over the course of an election across all media.

So most of the information floating around that is widely believed isn’t accurate. But who cares? It is certainly true that we should have been more mindful of the role both paid and organic content played in democracy and been more protective of it. On foreign interference, Facebook has made material progress and while we may never be able to fully eliminate it I don’t expect it to be a major issue for 2020.

Misinformation was also real and related but not the same as Russian interference. The Russians may have used misinformation alongside real partisan messaging in their campaigns, but the primary source of misinformation was economically motivated. People with no political interest whatsoever realized they could drive traffic to ad-laden websites by creating fake headlines and did so to make money. These might be more adequately described as hoaxes that play on confirmation bias or conspiracy theory. In my opinion this is another area where the criticism is merited. This is also an area where we have made dramatic progress and don’t expect it to be a major issue for 2020.

It is worth noting, as it is relevant at the current moment, that misinformation from the candidates themselves was not considered a major shortcoming of political advertising on FB in 2016 even though our policy then was the same as it is now. These policies are often covered by the press in the context of a profit motive. That’s one area I can confidently assure you the critics are wrong. Having run our ads business for some time it just isn’t a factor when we discuss the right thing to do. However, given that those conversations are private I think we can all agree the press can be forgiven for jumping to that conclusion. Perhaps we could do a better job exposing the real cost of these mistakes to make it clear that revenue maximization would have called for a different strategy entirely.

Cambridge Analytica is one of the more acute cases I can think of where the details are almost all wrong but I think the scrutiny is broadly right. Facebook very publicly launched our developer platform in 2012 in an environment primarily scrutinizing us for keeping data to ourselves. Everyone who added an application got a prompt explaining what information it would have access to and at the time it included information from friends. This may sound crazy in a 2020 context but it received widespread praise at the time. However the only mechanism we had for keeping data secure once it was shared was legal threats which ultimately didn’t amount to much for companies which had very little to lose. The platform didn’t build the value we had hoped for our consumers and we shut this form of it down in 2014.

The company Cambridge Analytica started by running surveys on Facebook to get information about people. It later pivoted to be an advertising company, part of our Facebook Marketing Partner program, who other companies could hire to run their ads. Their claim to fame was psychographic targeting. This was pure snake oil and we knew it; their ads performed no better than any other marketing partner (and in many cases performed worse). I personally regret letting them stay on the FMP program for that reason alone. However at the time we thought they were just another company trying to find an angle to promote themselves and assumed poor performance would eventually lose them their clients. We had no idea they were shopping an old Facebook dataset that they were supposed to have deleted (and certified to us in writing that they had).

When Trump won, Cambridge Analytica tried to take credit so they were back on our radar but just for making [expletive] claims about their own importance. I was glad when the Trump campaign manager Brad Parscale called them out for it. Later on, we found out from journalists that they had never deleted the database and had instead made elaborate promises about its power for advertising. Our comms team decided it would be best to get ahead of the journalists and pull them from the platform. This was a huge mistake. It was not only bad form (justifiably angering the journalists) but we were also fighting the wrong battle. We wanted to be clear this had not been a data breach (which, to be fair to us, it absolutely was not) but the real concern was the existence of the dataset no matter how it happened. We also sent the journalists legal letters advising them not to use the term “breech” which was received normally by the NYT (who agreed) and aggressively by The Guardian (who forged ahead with the wrong terminology, furious about the letter) in spite of it being a relatively common practice I am told.

In practical terms, Cambridge Analytica is a total non-event. They were snake oil salespeople. The tools they used didn’t work, and the scale they used them at wasn’t meaningful. Every claim they have made about themselves is garbage. Data of the kind they had isn’t that valuable to being with and worse it degrades quickly, so much so as to be effectively useless in 12-18 months. In fact the United Kingdom Information Commissioner’s Office (ICO) seized all the equipment at Cambridge Analytica and found that there was zero data from any UK citizens! So surely, this is one where we can ignore the press, right? Nope. The platform was such a poor move that the risks associated were bound to come to light. That we shut it down in 2014 and never paid the piper on how bad it was makes this scrutiny justified in my opinion, even if it is narrowly misguided.

So was Facebook responsible for Donald Trump getting elected? I think the answer is yes, but not for the reasons anyone thinks. He didn’t get elected because of Russia or misinformation or Cambridge Analytica. He got elected because he ran the single best digital ad campaign I’ve ever seen from any advertiser. Period.

To be clear, I’m no fan of Trump. I donated the max to Hillary. After his election I wrote a post about Trump supporters that I’m told caused colleagues who had supported him to feel unsafe around me (I regret that post and deleted shortly after).

But Parscale and Trump just did unbelievable work. They weren’t running misinformation or hoaxes. They weren’t microtargeting or saying different things to different people. They just used the tools we had to show the right creative to each person. The use of custom audiences, video, ecommerce, and fresh creative remains the high water mark of digital ad campaigns in my opinion.

That brings me to the present moment, where we have maintained the same ad policies. It occurs to me that it very well may lead to the same result. As a committed liberal I find myself desperately wanting to pull any lever at my disposal to avoid the same result. So what stays my hand?

I find myself thinking of the Lord of the Rings at this moment. Specifically when Frodo offers the ring to Galadrial and she imagines using the power righteously, at first, but knows it will eventually corrupt her. As tempting as it is to use the tools available to us to change the outcome, I am confident we must never do that or we will become that which we fear.

The philosopher John Rawls reasoned that the only moral way to decide something is to remove yourself entirely from the specifics of any one person involved, behind a so called “Veil of Ignorance.” That is the tool that leads me to believe in liberal government programs like universal healthcare, expanding housing programs, and promoting civil rights. It is also the tool that prevents me from limiting the reach of publications who have earned their audience, as distasteful as their content may be to me and even to the moral philosophy I hold so dear.

That doesn’t mean there is no line. Things like incitement of violence, voter suppression, and more are things that same moral philosophy would safely allow me to rule out. But I think my fellow liberals are a bit too, well, liberal when it comes to calling people Nazi’s.

If we don’t want hate mongering politicians then we must not elect them. If they are getting elected then we have to win hearts and minds. If we change the outcomes without winning the minds of the people who will be ruled then we have a democracy in name only. If we limit what information people have access to and what they can say then we have no democracy at all.

This conversation often raises the alarm around filter bubbles, but that is a myth that is easy to dispel. Ask yourself how many newspapers and news programs people read/watched before the internet. If you guessed “one and one” on average you are right, and if you guessed those were ideologically aligned with them you are right again. The internet exposes them to far more content from other sources (26% more on Facebook, according to our research). This is one that everyone just gets wrong.

The focus on filter bubbles causes people to miss the real disaster which is polarization. What happens when you see 26% more content from people you don’t agree with? Does it help you empathize with them as everyone has been suggesting? Nope. It makes you dislike them even more. This is also easy to prove with a thought experiment: whatever your political leaning, think of a publication from the other side that you despise. When you read an article from that outlet, perhaps shared by an uncle or nephew, does it make you rethink your values? Or does it make you retreat further into the conviction of your own correctness? If you answered the former, congratulations you are a better person than I am. Every time I read something from Breitbart I get 10% more liberal.

What does all of this say about the nature of the algorithmic rewards? Everyone points to top 0.1% content as being acutely polarized but how steep are the curves? What does the top 1% or 5% look like? And what is the real reach across those curves when compared to other content? I think the call for algorithmic transparency can sometimes be overblown but being more transparent about this type of data would likely be healthy.

What I expect people will find is that the algorithms are primarily exposing the desires of humanity itself, for better or worse. This is a Sugar, Salt, Fat problem. The book of that name tells a story ostensibly about food but in reality about the limited effectiveness of corporate paternalism. A while ago Kraft foods had a leader who tried to reduce the sugar they sold in the interest of consumer health. But customers wanted sugar. So instead he just ended up reducing Kraft market share. Health outcomes didn’t improve. That CEO lost his job. The new CEO introduced quadruple stuffed Oreos and the company returned to grace. Giving people tools to make their own decisions is good but trying to force decisions upon them rarely works (for them or for you).

In these moments people like to suggest that our consumers don’t really have free will. People compare social media to nicotine. I find that wildly offensive, not to me but to addicts. I have seen family members struggle with alcoholism and classmates struggle with opioids. I know there is a battle for the terminology of addiction but I side firmly with the neuroscientists. Still, while Facebook may not be nicotine I think it is probably like sugar. Sugar is delicious and for most of us there is a special place for it in our lives. But like all things it benefits from moderation.

At the end of the day we are forced to ask what responsibility individuals have for themselves. Set aside substances that directly alter our neurochemistry unnaturally. Make costs and trade-offs as transparent as possible. But beyond that each of us must take responsibility for ourselves. If I want to eat sugar and die an early death that is a valid position. My grandfather took such a stance towards bacon and I admired him for it. And social media is likely much less fatal than bacon.

To bring this uncharacteristically long and winding essay full circle, I wanted to start a discussion about what lessons people are taking away from the press coverage. My takeaway is that we were late on data security, misinformation, and foreign interference. We need to get ahead of polarization and algorithmic transparency. What are the other big topics people are seeing and where are we on those?

https://ift.tt/39Qff7S via The New York Times January 8, 2020 at 08:54AM

#IFTTT #Feedly

[mistye-dawne]

Finding the Words

Summary: A chance meeting while taking a break from her team sends Lucy and Laxus into unfamiliar territory as Lucy tries to find balance between catering to her team and moving forward with her own life, while Laxus fights his demons and struggles to accept that he just might be good enough to have the girl of his dreams.

FF.net

Chapter 2: Rolling Thunder

Bickslow's babies were the first to reach the clearing, dancing above her head chanting 'Cosplayer' and she couldn't keep herself from laughing. Bickslow pulled Freed to stop and pointed at the sight before them. There, they saw Fairy Tail's celestial mage giggling at totems floating above her one moment and then the next she was looking down at the man whose head was in her lap, running her hands through his hair. A serene smile on her face. Bickslow snapped a photo, knowing Evergreen would kill for it.

When the two stepped out from the forest, Lucy pulled the map from her bag and showed the two where they currently were and how to get back to Clover Town. In response to their questioning looks, she informed them that she still needed to collect the Belladonna for her client. Freed offered to stay behind and return with her but Lucy wouldn't allow it, saying that they looked plenty exhausted themselves after having to chase down their idiot leader. Neither man disagreed but insisted that she call them if she needed anything.

The men had been gone for barely an hour when the storm hit. She ignored the light sprinkle that lasted all of ten minutes before the rain wall arrived. She rushed into the forest for cover to wait it out but there was no end. It was almost like Juvia's incessant crying when Gray and her team left for a mission. Hoping that she had gathered enough, Lucy called Virgo and asked the loyal spirit to visit Mathis ahead of her and inform him that she'd been caught in the storm.

The spirit disappeared and Lucy hiked back to the forest's edge where she was forced to wait. She hoped that Freed and Bix were okay since it took about three hours to get back to the town but quickly dismissed the thought when she reminded herself that it had taken that long because she hadn't been in a rush. Her clothes covered in mud, Lucy sat, watching the lightning paint the sky and then listened to it's thunderous roars that followed seconds later. The storm calmed her and she had to fight the urge to sleep.

It was near 8pm when she made back to the town, her hair damp still and boots caked in mud. There was a break in the clouds allowing the red and purple light of the setting sun to highlight the town but Lucy saw more clouds that would cover the town by dark.

Mathis smiled when he heard the front door open and saw Lucy standing very still as to keep the mud more on herself than risking it cracking and dirtying the floor. The man shook his head at her antics and waved her to the back still. He had been looking at what her spirit had delivered hours earlier and was pleased with the amount she had sent. His smile faded when she walked into the room and he saw her hands.

"Lucy, what happened to your hands?! Your spirit mentioned that ran into some trouble at the clearing. Are you hurt anywhere else?" Lucy looked down at her hands to find then scratched and blistered. On her right hand the blisters had opened, probably when tried to catch herself when she had fallen. She didn't notice anything while gathering the plant or even when she had fallen but now that she was aware, she felt them throb and burn.

"It must have been from collecting the plants. I didn't feel anything until now."

"Here, come sit," he said as he took her wrists and lead her to a chair. He walked to a cabinet to get some first aid supplies and returned with a wet cloth, some bandages, and a jar of what she assumed to be an ointment of some kind. Wiping her hands clean he spoke, "I noticed this morning that your hands were already slightly calloused. I thought the pulling and cutting wouldn't be a problem for you but I see now I should have said something. I'm very sorry Lucy."

"I'm fine really. After what happened at the clearing, I should be thankful of my current state."

"What happened in the clearing, Lucy?"

"Turns out that job you had mentioned, the one about the wyverns in the southern forest, was accepted by a few guildmates of mine. Long story short one of the beasts fled north and my friend tracked it to the clearing but he was ambushed by a second one there. My guess is that he was injured just after besting one of the wyverns." Mathis tied off the bandages and Lucy pulled her hands to her lap. "Will I be able to shower tonight?"

Mathis laughed, "You can bathe girl, just let that ointment sit for a couple hours. It's a disinfectant and pain reliever. Now back to your friend, is he all right?"

Lucy nodded. "I tended to his wound just before calling his team. They weren't far behind him and he would have been fine if he had just called for help first. He was unconscious when I sent them here and that was hours ago," she said solemnly. She wondered if he was still out. He had been pretty beat up and he looked drained of his magic. Wyverns were crafty beasts and probably led him in circles at times while he was following it.

"Well Lucy, I don't want to keep you from him any more than necessary. Here is the tincture I promised and your reward. Oh and keep that ointment. I don't know what condition your friend is in but it might help a bit with the pain."

"Thank you, Mathis. You've been very kind." She smiled and offered him a bandaged hand which he took in his and shook.

"I must say the same of you, Lucy. You collected more than enough for me to work with until next season. I might have to call on your guild again in the future."

"I'm sure my guildmaster would be happy to hear that.," she smiled.

"Get to your friend, now. I'm sure he'll be happy to that smile of yours." he called as she waved and turned from him, hiding the disheartened look in her eyes..

"That'd be something wouldn't it?"

Her feet pounded on wet cobblestone as she ran to the only proper hotel in town, figuring that would be where they would have gone. Not simply because it was the nicest place to stay, but it would also be the most comfortable and and private for the trio. Slowing down to catch her breath she walked into the lobby and up to the desk, missing the familiar figure coming down the stairs. Freed was on his way out to buy dinner for Bickslow and himself when he saw Lucy walk up to the front desk. Her hair was a tangled mess and one side of her body was covered in mud.

Assuming she was looking for either him or his teammate, he approached the celestial mage. When she felt a hand on her shoulder she turned and looked into a pair of emerald eyes and smiled, thanking her luck that Freed happened to be in the lobby when she entered the building.

"Freed! I was actually just coming to see you guys."

The rune mage noticed her hands and silently admonished himself for not noticing them earlier at the clearing. "Lucy, your hands, Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. They're just blistered from gathering the plants. Umm, I wanted to see how Laxus was doing. You guys didn't get caught in the storm did you?"

His shoulders slumped and he nodded. "We were about an hour outside of town when it hit. Fortunately we were able to find shelter not far from where we were and waited it out. Laxus is still unconscious. I fear he's coming down with a fever now."

"Oh, well my client gave me this," she said pulling the ointment from her pack and handing it to Freed. "It's a disinfectant with a pain reliever mixed in it. I figured you could use it to help Laxus." The rune mage stood stunned for several moments before he realized that he was staring. "Freed, are you okay?"

"Thank you, Lucy. You probably saved his life."

"You don't have to thank me, Freed. I'm just happy to have found him when I did."

"Me too."

The two spent a moment standing in silence before she closed Freed's hands around the medicine and started to back away. "I don't want to keep you and should probably get some rest myself. It's been a long day." Lucy smiled and turned to leave only to have Freed stop her.

"Do you have a place to stay yet, Lucy?"

She stopped. "I don't."

"Why don't you stay with us. You're more than welcome to the second bed," he offered.

She shoved her hands into her jacket. "Thanks for the offer, but you don't need to do all that. I know you guys like to have your space."

"You aren't imposing in any way, Lucy. Please it's the least we can do to thank you."

Lucy stood for a moment shaking her head. She could see in those emerald colored eyes of his that he wasn't going to just let her walk away. Watching her internal struggle, Freed offered the ointment back to the celestial mage and she snached it from him, her eyes narrowed.

"Fine, I'll stay with you guys tonight. On the condition that you let me pay for dinner and breakfast tomorrow. I mean it," she snapped before he could protest.

"Are you sure that I can't get you to reconsider?"

"Not a chance."

"Very well. I was just headed out to get something, shall we?"

"Please. I'm starving."

Thirty minutes later, Lucy and Freed got back to the hotel to find Bickslow, wearing only a pair of flannel pants, sitting on the couch talking to someone on the lacrima comm. He waved Freed over and Lucy took the chance to step into the bathroom to wash up before eating. When she saw her reflection she blanched. She really needed a bath and decided that she couldn't wait.

"Virgo," she called brushing her fingers over her key.

"Punishment, Princess?" the pink-haired maid asked.

"No punishment, Virgo. I hate to ask you for anything else today but I really need to wash off. Could you help me so I don't have to remove these bandages quite yet?" she asked while beginning to peel her muddy clothes.

"Of course, Princess. Please never hesitate to ask me, unless you rather Leo come of his own accord." Lucy froze and barely registered that Virgo had removed her remaining clothes until she was led over to the bath. Mindful of her keyholder's hands, Virgo took to washing and working out the tangles in Lucy hair. The celestial mage had let it grow so that the ends now fell past her hips.

It had been a minute since Lucy had allowed Virgo to do this for her and forgot how well her spirit took care of her. Massaging her coconut shampoo into the roots, she eased the forming headache then moved to condition and detangle the ends. She had also missed how the spirit's hands felt running over her tired muscles as she worked a generous lather then rinsed the strawberry suds from her skin. When Virgo felt satisfied, she drained the water and gently towel dried the woman before applying an unscented oil to moisturize her skin.

"You're amazing, Virgo. I feel a lot better." Lucy said while pulling on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt only to remove the shirt to put on a bra underneath it. Curse Freed and his insistence she thought sourly.

"I will take your and your companion's clothes to wash, Princess. Do not forget to remove the bandages and apply the ointment to your friend's wounds."

"I won't Virgo. Thank you again." The spirit disappeared and Lucy stepped out of the bathroom to join Freed and Bickslow at the table.

The three mages sat over chinese takeout and cheap wine as Lucy recounted what happened in the clearing. She learned that Freed and Bickslow had been following after Laxus for more than a day and had planned on calling the guild that evening if they hadn't found him. Something her team likely would not have done.

She tried to imagine it then, her team on that mission in their place. Each one of her teammates could easily take down a wyvern solo given the chance. Natsu and Gray, by some miracle, would probably take down a beast each and then would end up fighting each other. She thought that after a year of not seeing one another that they would grow up, just a little. Clearly she gave them too much credit. Erza would always play the part of the stoic warrior and take as much of the burden on herself. It was just how the woman operated. Really thinking about it, Lucy would likely be left out, her teammates viewing her as the little sister needing to be saved.

Of all her teammates, Gray was the worst offender. Since Natsu's return, there'd had been a rift between the fire slayer and celestial mage though neither had a mind to discuss it. Because Natsu wasn't glued to her side anymore, Gray decided it was his responsibility to look after Lucy and it annoyed her to no end. Now that she really thought about things, Gray was generally the only one to vocalize his disapproval of Lucy working solo. Natsu was uncannily quiet these days and all Erza did was make sure that she hadn't picked something where she would be in over her head.

Before her mind ran too rampant and Loke forced his gate open again, Lucy let herself get lost in good company and wine. She sat with them for hours as the two told their own tales of past jobs and the ridiculous amount of trouble they used to get in when their team first formed. It was almost midnight when they cleaned off the table and got ready to retire. After removing her own bandages, Lucy grabbed Mathis' ointment from her pack and went to the bedroom.

"I'm gonna remove Laxus' bandages and put some of this on the wound."

"I'll give you a hand," Bickslow offered.

"Thanks, Bix." she looked around him and at Freed who had settled on the couch for the night, "Goodnight Freed."

"Goodnight Lucy."

Lucy turned to the bed and climbed onto it leaning over the resting man. She took a closer look at his face and then up to Bickslow. "Could you get a damp cloth. He's starting to run a fever."

"Sure thing." While he stepped away, Lucy cut the bandages to expose the wound. "Wow, they really got him."

"They did. Lift him for me, please?" Bickslow lifted the man's torso and Lucy pulled the cut bandages from under Laxus before Bix set him back down.

The Seith mage sat back on the second bed and watched her waste no time taking care of his best friend. She looked at home right then, like she was caring for a lover rather than just a guildmate but he concluded that was just part of her personality, investing everything she had into the task at hand. Every so often she would take the damp cloth and wipe away the sweat from his brow before she turned her attention back to the wound.

Bickslow decided then to break his one rule and take a look into her soul. Behind his carefree and perverse mask, was a man that read people very easily. Partially due to his magic but also from years of being a bit of an outsider, watching those around him. While the three of them had been talking and joking earlier, he had noticed that the celestial mage and pulled away and retreated into herself. Though before he could ask her about it she was back and completely invested in the conversation. She was good was hiding her inner turmoils but he was better at seeing them.

He released only a trace amount of magic as not to alert her and saw a midnight blue light with indigo tendrils that seemed to stretch out around her and then pull back, almost like waves washing onto the beach. He also noted the flecks of gold within, the stars, her magic.

Bickslow thought the colors suited Lucy. She was the bold revolutionary, passionate and true, but hidden behind that was a mystic. Someone who could easily let themselves get lost in the intangibles of the world. That part of of her soul was much like own and he wasn't all that surprised since the two of them practiced magics that similar in certain ways.

The pitter patter of raindrops brought him out of his thoughts and he saw that she had since thrown away the used cloth and was moving to the large chair by the window. He grabbed a throw off the end of the bed he'd been on and walked over to drape it over her shoulders. She pulled it around her small frame and curled into the chair.

She leaned her head back and looked up into his eyes, smiling. "Thank you."

He shook his head in disbelief and moved to sit on the floor in front of the chair. "You're something else, Cosplayer."

She giggled lightly and he smiled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He cocked his head back slightly, looking at her with one eye. "I'm the one who should be thanking you for taking care of Laxus."

She reached out and flicked the side of his head. "Enough of that. I happened upon a guildmate in trouble and I helped." They two looked outside after a flash of lightning followed by a deep rumble of thunder.

"You did, but that guildmate happen to be Laxus Dreyar. A man that most see as untouchable maybe even godlike. Not to mention he's the biggest asshole I've ever met."

"And here I thought you two were best friends," she scoffed.

"Don't get me wrong, Cosplayer. Laxus is my best friend but that doesn't mean I'm gonna bullshit myself about who he really is and he is an arrogant asshole." Bickslow took a deep breath and there was another flash of lightning. This time the thunder was much louder, closer. "You know it's partially a mask, right?"

"What is?"

"His arrogance. He uses it to keep himself from getting hurt but when you get beyond that fucking wall of his, he really is a good guy."

"You know, I envy you a little."

Bix was taken aback. "What? You're kidding right?"

She shook her head. "You're completely honest with yourself about your best friend."

"And you aren't?" he questioned.

"Lately I haven't been." Another flash of lightning as the rain started to beat on the window.

He turned around then and looked into her eyes. Her normally bright brown eyes were dull and tears threatened to fall. He'd seen Lucy cry before, everyone had at some point because the girl wore her heart on her sleeve but this was different.

"Mind if I ask you something, Cosplayer?"

"Shoot." She shrugged.

"What happened to you when your best friend left without so much as a goodbye?"

When the first tear fell he knew that he'd hit something sensitive. The two hadn't really ever sat down and talked, not like this anyhow so maybe it was a little inappropriate for him to ask but he did it anyway. He wasn't gonna force her to answer, he was just curious because anyone with eyes could see that there was distance between the fire dragon slayer and celestial mage where hadn't been before.

Lucy thought for a moment, avoiding the sieth mage's eyes because she knew that he'd see everything if she looked into them. It felt odd to have him ask that question and be so direct about it, like he knew something she didn't. While it felt odd, it wasn't uncomfortable for her. He was silent, just waiting to see if she would say something. So she did, not knowing exactly why since she had never spoken to anyone besides her spirits about what happened.

"I lost one of my spirits, Bickslow," she whispered with a trembling voice.

When she finally looked at him he saw it. Those golden specks of her soul were her spirits. They were a part of her and while there should have been fifteen, one was missing. Damn she hid things really well he thought and found his own breath stuttering. He wanted to say something but his mind was trying to wrap itself around the idea and it hurt, rendering him silent.

"It's okay that you can't say anything, Bix." He watched her wipe the tears away with the back of her hand. "It's okay because you're the only one who can imagine what it would feel like to lose a part of yourself. Those five souls of yours, they're a lot like my spirits, right?"

Finally he was able to speak. "Yeah, they are. They've got their own personalities and thoughts. Most people don't see it but they're still sentient beings and if I were to lose one of them, I don't know that I'd be able to come back from that. They were my first friends," he explained shakily.

"Aquarius was mine." She paused and thought back to when she read Natsu's letter, remembering that first wave of loneliness that had hit her. "I was hurt after losing her but when Natsu left me, I recognized the feeling of being left behind and alone. I broke, remembering how I lost my mother when I was little and then how my father had passed only a month before we returned from Tenrou. I made a decision then, to find solace in isolation."

"It wasn't total isolation though." Bickslow noted that the rain had settled and the thunder was growing distant.

"You're right. But you're the first person I've spoken to about all this. Shit, you're the only one who's asked."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd call you a liar." he joked. The two sat in silence for a moment before Bickslow asked one final question. "You're okay though, right?"

Lucy smiled at his concern. "Yeah. I'm okay now, Bix. Thank you." Bickslow sat with her until her breathing evened out and she had fallen asleep, or he thought she had. When he stood and reached down so he could move her to the bed she slapped his hands away. "I like the storms," she whispered, "You can have the bed."

He was tired from the last couple days and wasn't about to argue with the woman who seemed quite content where she was at so he padded over to the second bed and quickly passed out to the sound of soft breaths and rolling thunder in the distance.

#ftfanfics #ficsforvera #laxlu #Laxus Dreyar #lucy heartfilia #fairy tail fanfiction #fairy tail #mistye-writes #finding the words #multichapter

[theforgottengn]

Just Sleep, Just Dream

Characters: India, Uniform, Zulu, Golf and Jacqueline Forbes

Word Count: 2,818

Trigger Warning: Violence, Blood, Swearing

A/N: Part six. Nothing much to say here except that I’m trying my best to write this. I know it’s getting a little long but that tends to happen. Sorry if it’s too much.

Parts: X, X, X, X, X

Summary: The gang heads to New York to track down a bank CEO suspected of running an underground gambling ring. But surprises come in all shapes and sizes. And the truth is always what you least expect it to be. Click that read more if you want.

XXXXX

Jacqueline Forbes stood in front of him in all of her villainous glory. He couldn’t believe that he let her get the best of him. He was better than that. In any other scenario the shoe would be on the other foot. Uniform would be in her place and she would be begging at his feet. And Zulu would be conscious.

The drugs had made their way through his system so he could see clearly. Uniform could clearly make out his surroundings. Concrete floors and walls, no windows, the shape of a staircase slightly out of sight; all made the furnishings of an underground basement. That wasn’t much but it was a start at least. And he could see both Forbes in front of him and Zulu in his peripheral.

But moving was still out of the question. His hands were cuffed behind his back. And his legs were outstretched in front of him; shackled at the ankles.

Uniform was cold; shivering. Forbes had stripped him down to a tank top and boxers.

That was the last thing he needed.

She kneeled down so that her green eyes met his blue ones. He knew that she wanted to see fear in his eyes. But he wasn’t afraid of her. She was not going to get the satisfaction.

“You’re not Urban Monroe. There is no Urban Monroe. And that woman isn’t your wife. You don’t even know her let alone love her.”

That shows how much you know.

“How’d you know?” he asked; opting to play along with her for now. He needed to know her end game and this was the best way to figure that out.

“Please,” she said with a scoff. “You two made it so easy.”

“Fill me in. So we can fix our little operation.”

Forbes laughed lightly; throwing her head back. She then took a moment to fix her hair before responding.

“Oh, don’t worry, mister. You’re not going to go back to whatever pathetic life you had before.”

She reached out and ran a nail down his left cheek; cutting into his skin. But Uniform didn’t flinch as the blood dripped. That was nothing. He had gone through much worse in his lifetime. Forbes’ eyes widened in slight surprise when he smiled back at her.

“Is that all you’ve got, princess?” he asked with a smirk.

Jacqueline didn’t say anything. She just rose to her feet and walked away. But she didn’t walk very far. Stopping in front of Zulu she brought the end of her heel down on the woman’s thigh. Hard. Zulu, still somewhat drugged having no tolerance to anything, made a small pained sound.

Then the woman knelt down and shook Zulu’s shoulders.

Slowly Zulu came around and propped herself up to a sitting position.

“Welcome to the party, little one.”

Barely awake Zulu mumbled something no one understood.

Forbes turned back around to Uniform with a smile. He shook his head and opened his mouth to scream, but, he was too late. The woman sent Zulu reeling with a sharp backhand. Zulu rocked unsteadily for a few seconds; holding her cheek in pain. Wounded tears ran down her face. But Jacqueline wasn’t done with her yet.

Taking a small pair of pliers from her back pocket she shoved the edge underneath the nail on Zulu’s pointer finger. Closing the pliers she enclosed the nail between the two ends. Then, without warning, she pulled as hard as she could. Zulu’s nail came off with a bit of skin as well. The finger bled instantly and she shoved it in her mouth. As Forbes moved to take another nail from Zulu’s other hand she screamed.

“Stop, stop, stop,” she cried hardly understandable through her tears.

“STOP HURTING HER!” Uniform yelled desperately.

“Maybe I misjudged your relationship after all.” Jacqueline said with a slight smirk.

“What do you want from us?!”

“It’s quite simple, really. I have clients who have specific desires. They have made their wants very clear and are paying a small fortune for them. You and your small friend there fit perfectly.”

Uniform knew exactly what she meant by that. It was one thing for him to have to seduce the team’s targets. To have sex with total strangers. It didn’t matter to him anymore. He was numb in both body and mind. Completely unaffected by what was done to him all those years ago. That was why he was so good at his job in the first place.

But it was something else entirely to make Zulu do the same.

And for someone like her.

Regardless of if he wanted to admit it or not Zulu was his one and only weakness. He would do anything for her. He was narcissistic and cruel at times. Acted like she was just like all the other people he had been with. A short term fling and nothing more. Time and time again he told her that she had more feelings for him than he had for her. And that their relationship was not the two way street it seemed to be. But the truth was the complete opposite.

She was his world and he couldn’t live without her.

Just say yes, his mind yelled at him. It can’t be worse than anything else you’ve done.

Nodding he whispered; “Fine. I’ll do it. Whatever you want.”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you,” she said. He knew she heard him fine. There was no way that she didn’t. But he knew the way she wanted things to go. And that if he wanted both of them to survive this then he had to play by her rules.

He repeated himself louder this time.

“Wonderful. That’s what I like to hear.”

Zulu just sat there crying.

“But I have one condition, ma’am, if I may,” he continued.

“Oh? So you do have manners after all. I like manners in my people. What are your conditions, boy?”

“Let her go.”

She didn’t say anything. Just got up to a standing position and made her way to the stairs. Walking up them in silence only the sound of her heels against the steps filled the room. Once at the top of the stairs she opened the door and stepped out. Standing in the doorway she turned back around and called out to Zulu.

“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll get you some ice. I think you two will come to learn that I can be very nice if you just listen and do what I say.”

“What about my condition, ma’am? You said you would let her go.”

“I never agreed to anything.”

With that she slammed the door and locked it behind her.

“What the fuck have you done?” Zulu cried.

“Don’t worry, Zee-Bee. I have a plan.”

“Oh really? Like your amazing plan that got us into this mess in the first place? I’m missing a fucking fingernail, Un! You’re just missing your clothes. Which is nothing new.”

Uniform moved across the floor as best he could; given the circumstances. Once he was close enough to Zulu he ran a hand through her hair. Tears still ran down her face. He wiped them away with his thumb and cupped her chin in his hand. He hated seeing her cry. Especially when he did something idiotic and was the reason she cried.

“Trust my love, babe.”

“What?”

“Trust me. Do you trust me?”

She nodded. She had no other choice.

XXXXX

Golf had cracked the code. It was easy to spot it now that he had figured it out. He felt like an idiot for not seeing it before.

The earliest emails were setting up a clientele of sorts.

High-profile business men and women were all requesting similar services. Services that someone like Jacqueline was well-versed in. Services that a certain member of their team pretty much provided free of charge. It didn’t really matter that those people ended up paying with their lives in a way.

After the first few emails some of the clients had gotten a lot more brazen in their requests.

Golf had to stop reading after he saw the words ten-year-old and twins.

He shook his head on disgust and scrolled back up to the top. Opening the most recent email he copied the text into a word doc and separated the sentences. It was far easier to read the actual message that way. The request matched the notes India found almost perfectly. But the text he read also added a bit too much.

A male and female.

Preferably couple.

Five-ten male.

Five-two female.

Ethnically diverse.

Preferably Native American and Hispanic.

That almost described Uniform and Zulu perfectly. The heights matched too well to be nothing more than mere coincidences. And the fact that this person specifically asked for a couple was also alarming. Golf wasn’t so sure about either of their ethnicities but Zulu could have had Hispanic features. She had dark brown eyes, tan skin, but that was about it as far as he could tell. And Uniform didn’t look like he was either of those ethnicities in any way.

But the matches were too much to ignore.

Golf tapped his ear comm. to life and made a call to India.

He told her what he found as quickly as possible.

That does verify some things at least.

That might have been the truth but that didn’t mean anything good necessarily. It just meant that India’s hunch was right. Forbes was in the sex trafficking game. And she abducted their teammates with the intent on using them for that purpose. Golf knew that it would not turn out good for anyone involved.

“Have you found anything else on your end?” he asked hopefully.

Not a thing. Can you find if that address from the request email is legit?

“I can try my best.”

That’s all I need.

XXXXX

An hour or so later Jacqueline came back down the stairs. With no words she unlocked Uniform and wrapped a blindfold around his eyes. Then she guided him out of the basement and locked the door behind her. The power play was utterly pointless. It wasn’t like Zulu was getting up and going anywhere any time soon.

With Uniform gone the basement went dead quiet.

They’ll find us, she said to herself. And besides, Un said he had a plan. It’s going to be okay.

Soon Zulu heard sounds coming from the upper level.

The sounds, and what they meant, were unmistakable. It was bad enough that she knew Uniform had sex with random strangers and had to listen in sometimes. But to hear it happening right above her head? That was something no amount of military training could have prepared her for.

She bit her lip and began humming a song to herself; trying to block out the sounds.

That’s your fucking plan!?

The noises, and the screams from Forbes, got louder as time passed. Zulu couldn’t take much more of it and starting kicking the floor. When that didn’t make enough noise she got up from the floor and began stomping as hard as she could. Then she started screaming. Anything to block out what she hearing.

Fucking her brains out is a great plan! Just great!

Tears began to fall down her face again as she sat there and listened.

Once she started crying she just couldn’t stop. Zulu had no idea how much time had passed or how long they were up there. But it left like ages had passed. Her cries turned into choked sobs and after a while they were the only sounds she heard. They blocked out everything else that she did not hear when the noises stopped. Or when Forbes opened the door and walked down the stairs.

“Oh, honey, are you okay? Why are you crying?”

She looked up and shot Forbes a look of death. If looks could kill Zulu’s kill count would have been in the hundreds by then. Forbes extended a hand and pulled Zulu up from the floor. Then she gestured for her to take a seat at the tale she had set up. Zulu reluctantly sat down; her suspicions rising.

“How did you even get into something like this?” Zulu asked honestly wanting to know.

Forbes shrugged; “This city might be The City That Never Sleeps and all but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sleep around.”

“Oh, and here I was taking pity on you. Thinking you had some hard knocks type of life that drove you to this point.”

“Well, excuse me, my fucking bad.”

Jacqueline Forbes wanted to have a civil conversation and act like everything was normal. She had brought in a wooden table with a white tablecloth, a couple of chairs, a pot of coffee and some cookies. Like the two of them were old friends catching up or something. Zulu thought that X-Ray’s assumption about Forbes being lonely might have been right. It was that or Forbes was trying to play mind games with her. Either way she was still pathetic.

Who in the hell tries to befriend someone they’ve abducted?

“There was that. But I choose to take the shit hand life dealt me and make my own happy ending out of it.”

Forbes poured a couple spoons of sugar into her cup and stirred. She spun the spoon around the bottom of the cup three times before removing the spoon. When she finished she tapped it against the edge of the cup. Then she set the spoon on the small plate; next to the cup.

“Don’t you want a happy ending?”

Zulu wanted to spit in the woman’s stupid, makeup-caked, Barbie-wannabe, face.

Happy endings didn’t exist. They were just lies everyone told themselves to stop from crying when bad things happened. Lies told to pretend that their shit lives, and horrible pasts, meant something in the end. But the truth was none of that mattered.

Keeping that life for as long as possible was all that mattered.

“The world isn’t about happy endings. It’s about taking the life you have and fighting like hell to keep it.”

Jacqueline Forbes’ face twisted in thought. Then she nodded; “Wise words. A little odd to hear them coming from someone so young.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

But the woman evaded her question by asking Zulu if she wanted to have some coffee. Then she asked if she was hungry and offered her a cookie. Zulu wasn’t born yesterday though. She knew that Forbes was just trying to appear nice. Trying to appeal to her sense of humanity.

Not that Zulu had much humanity felt.

“How long do we have to be here?”

“As long as it takes.”

“For what?”

“Oh don’t worry you’ll know when it’s over.”

Forbes shoved the cup of coffee in Zulu’s direction with a smile. She stared at her with her piercing green eyes and commanding presence. Zulu didn’t like coffee but she didn’t have much choice in the matter at that point. So she reached out and grabbed the cup from the plate. It wasn’t that hard even with her wrists cuffed together as they were cuffed in front of her instead of behind her back.

She brought the cup to her lips and took a sip.

“Drink it all. It will warm you up.”

Zulu obeyed and drank the rest of the cup. She was seemingly already on this woman’s bad side and she did not like it. It would so much more satisfying to let her think she’s getting what she wants and then pulling the rug out from under her. The look on her face when she realizes it might just be worth it.

Maybe.

Forbes went on to talk about what was going to happen the next day. But Zulu found that she couldn’t focus. Her vision was getting blurry and she began to feel woozy. She grabbed the edge of the table for support. Gripping it tightly she blinked rapidly; trying to clear her vision. It was no use so she tried to stand up; using the table for support. But her hand slipped and she lost her balance.

She fell to the floor as her vision blackened at the edges.

“Wha—Wh…”

“Sshhh,” Forbes whispered. “You’ll be okay. I promise. Just sleep. Just dream.”

Forbes bent down and began to brush Zulu’s hair with her palm. Zulu tried her best to fight the drugs that were in the coffee and to push the woman away from her. But it was too much all at once. Too much for the state she was in. She stared at Forbes’ face trying to get the will to continue fighting. It was no use.

“No… I. No…”

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Just sleep. Just dream.”

The last thing Zulu saw before she passed out, for the second time, was the table leg.

#oc story #oc short story #oc short #i feel like all the characters are written wrong #nobody cares anyway #who even reads these #probably no one #but here it is anyway #india company #agent india #agent uniform #agent zulu #zuni #agent golf #the forgotten