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#and hopefully sort out a few things so i can wade deeper into the planning stage
sabraeal · 3 years
Text
A Home Between Two Breaths
[He Who Fell in the Sea | Read on Ao3]
The snow starts just out of Luidas– big, thick flakes. A dusting, at first; they settle on Miss’s hair like fine lace, melting before she can brush them off. But now the horses wade through the drifts, nickering with displeasure when snow crumples beneath their hooves. His own coat sags, a thick, wet film against his skin, but Miss–
Well, Miss sits snugly beneath a bridled pelt, one hand absently brushing along the edge. His chest tingles with every sweep of her fingers, a shiver trembling down his spine that has nothing to do with the cold. Her heat’s been his constantly companion these past few hours, keeping him warm and wary long past when his own coat abandons him. But the colder he gets, well, the more he’s tempted to stop, to haul up to one of the inns they pass and see if they can’t generate their own heat between them.
His teeth grit down, jaw aching. If only he could bring himself to love a woman whose heart wasn’t already spoken for, given to a man who could keep her warm with far more than just the pelt off his back.
Still, taking shelter isn’t a bad idea, not when there’s no telling how long the storm will last. Lamps burns brightly in the distance, up the hill but not too far. He remembers the place; it’s not one of their usual stops– too close to the checkpoint to bother with, mostly made more for lords with carriages and delicate constitutions to care for. Pricey, and with the weather, the innkeep will be sure to wring them for more than two beds are worth, but, well–
He’s going to go crazy if she doesn’t stop petting him like this. Obi tugs at his reins, bringing himself up alongside Miss. Their knees don’t knock– he’s too careful a rider for that, even if she’s not– but he’s close enough to be heard over the howling winds. “We should stop.”
A contemplative pout settles on her cold-stung lips; she’s doing the complex calculations he’d mulled over moments ago. It’s not quite dusk– on a fairer day, they’d be on the road for another hour or two at least– but with the storm only growing stronger at their backs…
“It’ll get worse before it gets better.” The darkening sky hangs heavy overhead, only adding a more dire edge to his warning, but Miss’s jaw still sets stubbornly, the I can keep going loud in her silence. “We should think of the horses.”
“Oh!” She frowns down at her mare’s mane, snow tangling in the long, frozen ropes its settled into, and nods. “Of course. Is there some place near?”
His cowl is raised, covering his lips, but he smothers his smile, just in case. Miss might press on past wisdom if it were only herself she had to worry about, but bring the horses into it…
“Just there.” He points, voice struggling against the wind. “Up on the rise. Hopefully they’ll have two rooms ready to go.”
Miss coughs, ducking her head to cover it. Her next words are mumbled, lost in the wool of her scarf and the roar of the storm, but the winds twist and turn as they press on and he could swear–
Well, he could swear he hears, “We could do with less.”
“Two rooms,” Miss says, trying to raise her voice over the din. They’re far from the only weary travelers escaping the storm; the common room is packed wall-to-wall with boisterous custom, their coats damp but spirits as warm as the brew in their mugs. “If you please.”
“I do.” The innkeep’s round-faced, cheery, but with enough height to convey that she could, if pressed, handle rowdy customers right to the door. The kind of woman Obi would like, if her smile wasn’t already saying exactly what he didn’t want to hear. “But I’m afraid we’ve only got the one left. Busy night, you know.”
“Two beds?” he asks, already knowing the answer. If Master had been with them, three would have appeared from thin air with rooms to keep them. But with just a court herbalist and a knight, the only title between them a friendship to the wrong crown–
“One.” The innkeep’s kind enough to offer a sorrowful smile. “A nice one, though, if I do say so myself.”
A slender finger traces down his chest, as if there were not three layers of clothes and a safe distance between them, and he yelps out, “A cot?”
“‘Fraid not.” The innkeep brushes some flour off her apron, brusque yet strangely sympathetic at the same time. “All spoken for. You’re hardly the only ones who’ve had to make due with less than you came in wanting.”
Still that finger runs, collar to breast, following the length of his sternum. It should be lulling, comforting, but instead he just– “Maybe there’s space in the barn?”
Miss’s hand stills, eyes too wide, too green as she peers up at him. He can’t bear to look, not when he’s in danger of losing himself in them. The last time they’d been in the room with a bed–
Well, there’s a reminder twitching right against his thigh about that. “I’m not above a good night in the hay.”
The innkeep’s brows lift in amusement. “Full up to the manger.”
His sigh hollows him out, leaving him to slouch over the remains of his chest. “I could–”
“We’ll take it,” Miss says, stepping up in front of him. The dir glitter in her palm as she lays them on the counter. “The room, that is. And the bed.”
Obi lets out a plaintive whine, lost in the noise. “Extra blankets?”
The innkeep smiles at him, wide and wry. “Now that I can do.”
After all his years on the road, Obi considers himself a connoisseur of lodging. A adept of accommodations. A man who knows what a coin might bring him, greasing the right palm. Someone who speaks the lingo, one might say.
So when a proprietor of sleeping arrangements says one bed, he knows there’s a connotation to that. One bed, of course, but enough mattress to be shared between two. The sort of thing where one could divide between the pillows and trust that, without a very adventurous sleeper on the other side, he could expect to wake up undisturbed.
This is not that.
“Well,” Miss murmurs, taking a ponderous step into the room. “There certainly is…one.”
He’s seen bigger in the garrison. It’s only a little wider than a standard cot– meant to fit one and half maids, if only so the help might feel kingly for a night as well–
“Ah, isn’t that just our luck, Miss.” Obi lets out a noise that is somewhere between a laugh and a swan song. “In an inn full of lordly accommodations, we get…the servant’s quarters.”
Another room might have a sofa, a chaise, or, failing that, a hard-backed chair that he could at least make a credible attempt at sleep in. But this– this is a room meant for sleeping, not entertaining. At least, not if he wasn’t planning on doing it horizontal.
Which he isn’t. Not at all. That’s not what’s happening here. Between them. Ever. No matter what happened before. Master may not be here now, but Obi won’t forget him.
Again.
“It’s fine,” Miss blusters, as if he can’t hear her voice squeak up at the top of her range. “We’ll make do.”
She draws herself up, utilizing every scant inch, and officiously scurries over to the edge of the mattress, giving it the sort of calculating stare generals leveled on fields of battle. With a steeling breath, her shoulders lift, and in a smooth motion, toss his pelt wholesale onto the covers.
The wind knocks out of him, for more than one reason. “I was going to use that.”
“You are going to be using it,” she agrees primly, letting her own cloak fall, sopping, in to her arms. “In the bed. Tonight.”
His mouth works as she crosses to the one ladder-backed chair that the room provides, spreading the wet wool across it. “I was going to sleep on the floor.”
The gaze she turns to him may be wide-eyed, but it’s knowing too, braced. This isn’t a misunderstanding, it’s a negotiation. “Why would you do that? It’s freezing, Obi.”
Again, his mouth can only open and close, words picked up and quickly abandoned in his search for something other than, don’t you remember? Or worse, how could you forget?
He couldn’t, not when he’d spent the night staring up at a ceiling he hardly remembered the pattern of, listening to the soft lull of Master’s breath and wondering why, why he has to ruin everything he touches. It would be better if he listened to the songs of his sisters, letting them guide him back to the sea, pelt wrapped around him and life brought back to the simple sensation of the water against his fur–
But he’d miss her. And he can control himself just fine, as long as there’s some space between them. Which there won’t be if they’re in that bed together, his skin covering them as one body.
“I just–” he flounders under her inquisitive confusion; it doesn’t help that she’s taken off her dress as well, left in only in her underthings, every shapely curve bared to him– “it would be best.”
Miss’s fingers still on her stays, head cocked, considering. Her gaze sweeps from the pelt on the bed to her own state of undress, hesitating a moment before she takes in his position against the door.
With a long, thoughtful breath, she exhales a very firm, “No.”
“No?” His mouth works, at a loss, and she takes the opportunity to place a single, bare leg on the mattress, right along his spine. Hell, that is making it a little hard to breathe, let alone think. “That is my skin, you know.”
“And you’re going to be using it,” she informs him, unimpressed, as she drags another tantalizing calf beneath her, warmth radiating along his back. It’s the last thing he needs when she’s got that stubborn pout on her lips. “You can’t sleep on the floor, Obi. Even with seal skin, you’ll freeze.”
He’s lived in water colder and darker than nights like these, dove into deeper currents than the Lilias’s winds could ever drop, but it’s impossible to explain to that to Miss, who has only this one, soft skin. The kind that is begging him to touch it with his own, to press her between his pelt and his body, and–
“I have extra blankets,” he mutters dumbly, thrusting them out in front of him like they might ward off her arguments. It’s a weak volley, a desperate measure to avoid the inevitable rout, and she deflects it with barely more than a dubious glance.
His shoulders slump, wet fur sopping around his neck. By the victorious glint in Miss’s eyes, she doesn’t miss the moment of his defeat.
“Your should take off your coat, at least,” she tells him, so innocent. “It’d be no good for you to come to bed wet.”
Obi can’t, unfortunately, argue with her logic. He lays his shield down, the thick quilts the innkeep pressed on him falling in a slumped pile against the footboard. And with a sweep of his arms, the first of his armor falls as well, arranged flat on hearth’s screen.
It’s a relief to be rid of its damp weight; warm as it is, another creature’s fur sits strangely on him, as if his body wants to take its shape as well. And when it’s almost clinging to him, dripping sweat and ice down his spine– well, it’s a new layer of discomfort.
His boots follow, stockings soon after, though their removal is another battle, the wool sticking to every inch. When his feet finally press bare to stone– ah, the cold seeped through him more than he’d thought. For all his talk, his soles stretch against its ambient warmth and, oh, how they burn. Maybe Miss was right about sleeping on the floor; as a seal, his blubber would protect him, but as a man–
Well, he certainly lacked a certain sleekness over these bones. It was easier to forget now that he was allowed both.
Obi hesitates, thumbs hooked into the waistband of his pants. They were wet too– damp at the knees and clinging to his thighs at parts– but still…
“Are you coming to bed?” Miss inquires, muffled. He glances back, and there she is, smothered in blankets, radiating warmth along his back. “It’s warm in here.”
The smart thing would be to take his blankets and suffer as best he could by the fire. Or take the invitation but keep the clothes, hoping they would dry in the warmth of the blankets. But Obi–
Well, Obi hadn’t ended up on shore by being more clever than bold. He strips down to his skivvies, laying his clothes beside Miss’s on the stone. It left him far from naked– his woolens might leave little to the imagination, but they were still as thick and warm as his pelt– but the way Miss watches him–
Maybe he should risk the floor.
He shakes himself. Too late to change his mind now.
Soft fur tickles his hands as he slips into bed beside her, Miss extending from a pleasant, abstract warmth along his back, to a present, insistent heat along his side. It’s disconcerting, to say the least.
“Beneath?” he manages after a moment. “I thought you enjoyed it as a blanket.”
“We have plenty of those.” Her eyes glitter guilelessly in the dim, fingers stroking the pelt in mindless, soothing circles. “Having it under us will stop any heat from escaping through the mattress. Like a little oven!”
“Oh,” he murmurs, watching her fingers carve runnels through his fur. “Smart.”
“I thought so,” she says with no little pride. “Blow out the lamp?”
He nods, reaching over to turn the wick down, watching the flame gutter behind the glass. Even when it’s out, the fire keeps a low, merry glow, and beneath his shirt–
“Oh!” The cord lies tangled in his chain, tag and stone knotted together in a way that takes a good moment of patience and another of dexterity to sort out. Still, it’s easy work, and with a few quick loops he lifts it over his head, stone pulsing gently in the dark. “Here you go.”
He’s seen his miss in firelight, but the stone’s glow does something to the shape of her face, to the round of her eye. In her hushed awe, it’s as if he’s never seen her before. “This…?”
“Sorry I borrowed it for so long.” Her gaze darts to his, and he can’t help but wonder if she’s thinking the same. “Thanks for lending it to me.”
“Ah!” Her fingers reach, plucking the cord from his grasp, an infinite amount of stones glittering in her eyes. “The stone! Did you–?” She hesitates, mouth rounding around words she doesn’t say. “Did you use it for something?”
He’d hung it on a darker night than this, moon blotted out by thick, reaching branches, but as it swings in her grip, a slow, pendulous spin– well, it’s hard not to think of the shadow that approached. How confidently the assassin had slipped through the trees, fleet and sure-footed as any night creature. And then for him to pull up short, surprise writ large in those dark, fearful eyes–
“It would be a good reference point,” Miss presses, breathless. “For the future.”
He huffs out a laugh, head dropping onto the pillow. Ah, yes, he can see it now. Uses: luring assassins out of hiding. “I don’t think it’ll be much help to any of you scholars, but it worked perfectly when I used it.”
The crystal sets her face into harder angles; her cheeks sit sharp, carved from marble, and her jaw settles into a contemplative pout. It’s not answer enough, he knows, not for her, but she’s never been one to push, not even when she held a pelt in her hand.
“I’d say it was thanks to that thing that I made it to Master’s side in time.” Her eyes turn to him, wide, but it’s the least he can give her, when she’s put both his freedom and her trust into his bloodied hands. “And I was also able to pass on Mitsuhide’s message.”
“Because of this?” She cradles the stone in her hand, tender, but it’s him that she turns to, satisfaction curling her lips. “So it was helpful? I mean– it was worth having?”
“Of course.” If his grin is easy, it’s only because he’s so practiced at giving it. At least, instead of kissing her. “It would have been worth having just because it gave it to me. The rest was gravy, Miss.”
Her sigh is heavy, contented, the tension eking out of her shoulders with each second that passes until she’s settled fully into the pillow’s soft down.
“Obi?” He almost doesn’t catch her soft hum, muffled as it is. But one of her hands has dropped between them, fingers gently stroking in those small, soothing circles, and even part of him is attuned to every molecule of air in this room, if only because there doesn’t seem to be enough. “Come over here?”
He rolls up onto his elbow, so close a deep breath might make them touch if he weren’t careful. But he is. Always. “Hm?”
In a single, smooth swoop, she loops the cord right around his neck. “Eh–?”
Her smile is too much, mischief honing it sharper than any other knife he’s taken between his ribs. He hardly even feels the stab. “I bequeath this to you.”
“Eh?” he tries again, fingers plucking at the leather, since she clearly didn’t hear him the first time.
“I want you to have it.” Her gaze settles where it dangles between them, and he’s not ready for how his chest tightens with the softening of her smile. “If it was helpful to you at Sereg, I’d like you to keep it.”
He stares. But it’s precious, he nearly says, but it’s no use, not when he can’t survive her inevitable answer, the one clear in her eyes already–
So are you, Obi.
“Miss.” His voice doesn’t sound like his own, stilted and too low. “A while back, you asked about this scar.”
The neck of his woolens swoops low enough for a ragged edge to peep through, stark white against the shadow of his skin. He hooks a finger round it still, pulling it lower until he can feel the meat of that gnarled ruin against the tip of his fingers. In the pale light of the stone, he can see the way her eyes fix to it, body tense beside his.
“I never cared about getting injured.” The dark loosens his lips better than any bottle. “Or coming back. There wasn’t–” he licks his lips, only a wry smile left behind– “there wasn’t any point.”
Why worry about this strange skin when no matter how well he performed for them, his masters would never yield his reward. His pelt always laid under lock and key, a carrot and stick both: a well done job held the hope of seeing a glimpse of it, a chance to snatch it from their grasp; and a failed one–
Well, there were so many accidents that could happen to a beautiful pelt like this one. Fire. Scissors. A blade.
Obi might not have cared what happened to this body, but he could never return to his sisters with the proof of this life etched upon his skin,
His fingers clench in his fur. “Didn’t really see it as a drawback.”
The stone’s glow isn’t enough to illuminate the whole of Miss’s face, so he doesn’t so much see her jaw work as feel it, her restraint dragging her teeth down with a soft click. Her urge to speak is palpable, drawing the space between them to a taut thread but–
But Miss has always had that sense, the kind good healers always did, of when a wound needed salve or stitching, and when it just…needed to breathe. Which is what she does, muscles melting into the mattress beneath her, her fingers picking up those slow, soothing circles over his fur. If all this feeling is a festering poison, well– he needs to get it all out himself.
“I lived like that for a long time.” The words leave him on a sigh, back stretching into her touch, wrong skin as it is. “But then when I came back, and I saw your face…”
The memory burns brighter than the stone in his eyes; even now he can picture the way she stood, half turned toward him, fingers flexed in disbelief. The way steam had rose from her rounded mouth, clouding the air between them. How she had run, falling just short of being in his arms–
– and how she’d just narrowly missed the same later, her nails dragging through his pelt, jaw slack–
Ah, that’s really not what he should be thinking about now. Not when she’s pressed so tight against him.
“All I could think,” he rasps, meeting the dark evergreen of her eyes, “was how glad I was that I didn’t get seriously injured. So I could…”
Come back to you. He can’t make the words leave him; it’s too much, too far, but Miss–
She hears them anyway. Her breath catches, hand flexing flat on his pelt, a brand against his spine.
“So,” he breathes, heart pounding in his throat, “I guess I’m– haah.”
His hips jerk hard as his miss rakes runnels slowly down his spine. Every inch of his skin shivers, hair and teeth on edge, and it’s definitely…good. Too good for what he’s trying to say.
“You’re being distracting.” The warning rumbles out of him, and even to his own ears, it sounds more promising than scolding.
Miss hums, too innocent, too interested. “Should I stop?”
She does, as a demonstration.
“No!” He coughs, glad there’s no possible way she can see the heat slapped across his cheeks. “I’m just trying to–” have a serious conversation– “and you’re–” making it hard– “it’s hard enough, talking like this, when we’re on…”
Me. He can’t say that either, not when she’s looking up at him so guilelessly, eyes wide and uncomprehending.
“I think,” he grits out, finally, “that maybe I haven’t properly explained the, ah, connotations of touching…that.”
Her eyelashes flutter in the dark. “You like it, don’t you?”
“Yes.” It hisses out of him, not enough but also entirely too much. “A lot. More than I think you–”
“I almost made you…” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, and oh, how he wishes that were him. “Ah…come?”
He jerks, hands clenching in his fur to keep him still, keep him grounded. More than ‘almost,’  he nearly says, but even he isn’t so foolish. “You did.”
“Obi.” She squirms dangerously close, near enough that his cock, already hard, twitches like a mutt on a leash. “I am laying on it.”
Obi blinks, confused, but it comes to him– either keep your hand on the pelt, or lay on it.
Now his face burns. He’d said that, control hanging by a thread. Broken so effortlessly by her fingers in his hair.
“I…” His mind is blank, every thought static, but he manages, “I just wanted…”
She really, really doesn’t need to look so invested in what he wants. Not when he’s already flirting so closely with the shore.
He clears his throat. “I just wanted to say, I’ve come back.” To you is too dangerous to say. “I’m…home.”
Her chest rises in a long, hopeful breath, gaze fixed to him.
“Obi,” she breathes, laying her hand on his cheek. “Welcome home.”
He watches as her eyes flutter, heavy-lidded to half-mast, as her lips just barely part, chin angling upward, and– and on any other woman he’d know what that means. On any other woman he’d close this space between them, show her just what this man’s body could do, if he asked it, but with her–
It’s impossible. How can he fill the place Master already occupies?
He should move; he should roll back onto his side and leave her to do the same; he should know better than to have let them get this close again. “Miss–”
Her fingers sliding from the angle of his cheek into the bristle of his hair, and static sparks over the surface of his skin, chasing through his veins, curling his toes, filling him up until there’s nothing left but to ground himself at the source. He’s never been able to resist her, anyway.
He reaches for her, palm gently cupping the back of her head, but she reaches for him too, pulling him to her, and when their lips meet it’s not gentle. It’s no princely kiss, oh no, but hungry mouths needing to devour, tearing a groan from him that belongs to neither of his bodies but a different animal entirely.
She’s not close enough, not even when she rises up on her own side, pushing their bodies flush together, only cloth keeping them from the delicious friction he craves. He wants her, the proof of it obvious and hard against her hip now, but she doesn’t shy, only bucks into it, making sparks trail up his spine, behind his eyelids–
“Miss,” he tries again, but there’s nothing more to say, not when she squirms up him, pressing her lips even more fully against his. Nothing more to think when she scrapes her nails so deliciously over his scalp, moaning into his mouth.
His palm grips her hip, hard enough for him to swallow a gasp as he rolls her under him, aligning them the way they both want– at least, Miss doesn’t seem to be complaining, not when her legs wrap around his his, dragging him to her. She doesn’t complain when his tongue tests the gap between her lips, when he slips it inside her mouth entirely, and–
It’s not close enough, not when it’s never felt so right, when her body molds to fit his to perfectly. When even now he can feel her both above and below, his own skin calling to him in a way that it never has before, like he might wrap him and her in it both–
“Miss,” he moans, twisting his head away. It’s the only thing that keeps her from following him. “We should–we should stop.”
She blinks up at him, and even in the glow of the stone between them, her eyes are dark. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No! No.” He can’t imagine how she could think that, with his cock twitching against the curve of her hip. “I…you’re perfect.”
He can feel her breath catch beneath his ribs, as if it were his own, and oh, they are too close to be having this conversation. Still, he can’t bear to pull himself away, not when she bites her lip so anxiously and asks, “If you tell me what to do, I could–”
“No, Miss, it’s not–” he coughs, glad she can’t see his face– “I’m very, very interested in continuing…this.”
Her head tilts, curious, as are the fingers creeping beneath the hem of his shirt. “Then why do we have to stop?”
That’s becoming a more pressing question with every stroke of her fingers. “I’m just…” He licks his lips, mouth dry as they drift closer to his spine. His actual spine, not just…by proxy. “Maybe this isn’t something we should jump into this with both feet.”
“Ah.” Her smile is soft in the stone’s light, playful. “Do selkies get cold feet?”
A laugh huffs out of him. “We get nothing but.”
Her palm presses like a brand against his spine, drawing a low groan from his lips. “But you’ve always been so warm, Obi.”
“You are making a good case, Miss,” he admits, his hips rolling without his permission. It takes a concerted effort not to try to get Miss to repeat the noise she makes. “But I– I don’t know how this works.”
She stares, incredulous.
“I mean, obviously I know how to light fires. And tend to them,” he rumbles, pressing a kiss to her neck. “But I mean, the rest. With my…” He lets out a huff, frustrated. “I wasn’t old enough when I was…”
When he was taken from his sisters. It seems like the wrong time to be bringing up family when Miss is rubbing her bare leg against his. “I don’t know what this means, when I feel like this.”
“Obi?” Miss blinks, still beneath him. Her fingers trace the scar across his chest. “What do you feel?”
“A lot.” The admission bothers him more than he would like. “More than with…anyone else.” His breath hisses between his teeth, and finally he manages, “It’s never felt good when someone touches my pelt before.”
“Oh.” Her mouth rounds, and oh, how he wishes that were more of an invitation than it was. “Only…?”
He nods, cheeks burning. “Only you.”
“Ah.” Her palm flexes against his back. “So maybe…slower?”
“Yes,” he sighs, relief making his body sag. “ I just don’t know–” what this means– “what I can give you.”
“Obi…” He fingers trace those smooth, soothing circles, only this time on his skin. “You’re more than enough for me.”
“But I…”
“Don’t borrow trouble, Obi.” Her steady hands guide him beside her, fingers fanning out over his expanding ribs. “We don’t need to worry about tomorrow until the dawn. As long as I have you, we’ll take the days as they come.”
Miss squirms close, head resting on his chest, arm thrown tightly over him. “Goodnight, Obi. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”
A breath shudders out from him. “Goodnight, Miss.”
Her breath evens into sleep, so quickly he might laugh, it not for–
For the way his pelt tempts him, for the way the night wind calls. Even now, Miss in his arms, he hears the song of his sisters, smells the salt of the sea.  
As long as I have you.
That’s exactly what he’s afraid of.
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hurt-spock · 4 years
Text
Fic: Everything’s Not Lost 1/?
(Full Chapter One Version)
The first thing he was aware of was a slight acrid smell. And then the realisation that something was very wrong.
Spock's eyes opened quickly and he was aware of how dim the craft was. “Doctor?”
“Mm,” came a mumbled response. Spock unclipped his safety belt. The viewscreen had malfunctioned and instead of showing what was outside the craft, it was blank and black. There were some dim emergency power lights working but they weren't working well. Spock's Vulcan eyesight helped him see things more clearly. McCoy would not have that luxury. The craft had crashed and had ended up tilted on its left side. Spock clambered over to where McCoy was and roused the Doctor carefully.
“Doctor?”
Blue eyes met Spock's own and there was a moment's confusion before he recalled what had happened. “Dammit,” he muttered. “Are you okay?”
“I am. Yourself?”
“Maybe a little sore from the landing.” The huge bump across McCoy's brow bone said otherwise. “We crashed, right?”
“We crashed,” Spock confirmed. “The planet is habitable. We can leave the craft if you wish.”
“I suppose it's better than staying in here,” McCoy stated as he climbed out of his seat and followed Spock to the door. “At least I'll be able to see something.”  
Spock grabbed two of the survival kits and handed one to McCoy before attempting to open the door. When it didn't budge, he handed McCoy the other kit so his hands were free and he could dedicate all his strength to it. McCoy pulled out one of the flash-lights so he could see a little better and watched Spock strain so much he thought something might pop. But then he stopped straining and looked at the door. “It is not going to open,” Spock said.
“No shit,” McCoy replied. “So, we'll stay inside then.”
Spock nodded but did not look content.
“What's wrong?” McCoy asked. He knew Spock well enough by now to know that what Spock didn't say was just as important as what he did say.
“Life support will only last for approximately four hours.”
“Only four?”
“It may be slightly more or less. I can not be sure with all the equipment down.”
“So if we don't get out of here before then, we're dead?”
“Not exactly,” Spock replied.
“You've got a plan?” McCoy asked, hopefully.
The look on Spock's face made it clear he did not have a plan.  
“Aw, fucking shit!”
“There is a breach somewhere. We are taking in water and I estimate that it will take around two hours for the shuttle to be flooded.”
McCoy stared at Spock. “Are we on fire as well? Maybe some toxic fumes that'll kill us in twenty minutes?”
“Perhaps. But if they are, I can not detect them,” Spock dead-panned back.
“What can we do?”
“I can try and use the phaser to aide an escape, however, if we are completely submerged it will amount to making a larger hole. If we can not get out in time, we will die.”
“Can you tell if we're submerged?” McCoy asked.
Spock considered. “I could make a small hole at the top of the craft.”
“Yes, do that!” McCoy said.
Spock adjusted the phaser and took careful consideration of where to make the hole. It took a while for the beam to penetrate all the way through and when it did nothing but air came in.
“Well that's a relief,” McCoy said.
“Hm,” Spock said, distractedly. He continued with the phaser making the hole bigger when the beam vanished.
“Don't tell me it's run out of juice?”
Spock looked at McCoy and didn't say a word, handing the phaser to him. McCoy studied it, tried it himself before throwing the thing to the floor in frustration. “Goddammit, we're gonna die in here, aren't we?”
“We have more oxygen,” Spock said. “We just have to wait for rescue. The Captain will find us.” It didn't change the fact that they would still drown in the shuttle before they lacked oxygen.
Spock was using the most positivity his neutral tone could muster up. McCoy sighed and nodded in agreement. He sat back in one of the seats. Spock was taking stock of the situation, gathering data. He moved around the shuttle checking for anything they could use.
“Jim's not going to get to us in time,” McCoy stated.
Spock stopped what he was doing and looked to McCoy.
“We weren't due back onboard for six hours when we left the planet. I heard you tell Jim that.”
“True. However, Jim did say that if they completed their own tasks they would meet us. He is aware that the shuttle has limited speed. It would make sense for them to meet us, if they had the time.���
“If.”
“It is all we have to hope for, Doctor. A small hope, but hope nonetheless.”
“Hm,” was all the response he gave. “You don't need the light, do you?”
“No,” Spock replied.
McCoy switched it off and closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the water rising.
~
McCoy hadn't been aware of how exhausted he had been until he woke. It took him a few moments to get some clarity and when he did, he wondered how much time they had left.
He had stretched his legs across to another seat so he was more comfortable and when he sat up, he was shocked at the water he plunged his legs in too. It was cold as well. “Spock?”
“Yes?”
“Where are you?” McCoy asked. He had raised his legs back out of the water but it was only a matter of time before the water reached the seat.
“I am here,” Spock replied. He sounded as though he were at the back of the shuttle. McCoy fumbled for the flash-light and flicked it on before seeking out Spock.
The Vulcan was sat on top of two empty storage crates he had moved closer to the hole.
“Are you okay?” McCoy asked.
“I am,” Spock replied.
“What are you doing over there?”
“Attempting to escape,” Spock informed him. “Stay there, Doctor,” Spock said when McCoy looked to be coming over. “It will be best to stay dry as long as you can.”
“So, how are we escaping?” McCoy asked.
“The phaser made a hole. I have found a piece of the shuttle that we may be able to use to increase the size of the hole.”
“Can't we use it to open the door?” McCoy asked.
“I did attempt it. But the door will not open. I believe we crashed into a rock in some sort of body of water. A lake or river, I assume. I believe escape through the door is impossible. Once this hole is wide enough I should be able to increase it using the piece of the shuttle as a lever.”
“Spock, that's insane,” McCoy protested.
“Insane or not, it is the only chance we have to escape from here.”
McCoy turned the flash-light to the hole. It was a little larger than before but not by much, it was barely the size of a fist. Spock had donned some gloves and he watched in awe as Spock pulled at the metal exterior and increased the size of the hole. Not by much, but he did increase it. Spock was making slow progress. He was gathering all his strength with a complete stillness between attempts, not wasting energy with anything else other than freeing them.
McCoy could only watch the painfully slow process, watch as Spock used all of his strength and energy to slowly increase the gap. He forced himself to ignore the fact that the metal was tearing into Spock's skin and that green drops of blood dripped down into the ever-rising water. He said and did nothing when the water reached the seat, despite how cold it was.
When the hole was finally large enough for the metal lever, McCoy felt a surge of hope. “You're doing great,” he encouraged, wishing he could do more. “Why don't you let me try while you rest?” McCoy offered.
“No offense intended Doctor, but I do not believe you would be able to assist. However, if you have anything that would assist energy levels, I will gladly accept,”
McCoy grabbed his kit and rummaged through it. He had a few items in the kit that would suit Spock's biology but an energy booster wasn't something he would think to bring. Vulcan's had bags of stamina However, he did have an adrenaline boost fit for humans and  he hoped it would benefit him. While he continued to ready himself, he threw an energy bar Spock's way. “Okay, we'll try this,” McCoy said.
“I'll come to you,” Spock said.
“No. You're already using your energy to try and get us out of here. You don't need to waste extra energy trying to stay warm as well.” McCoy said and he plunged himself into the water and waded over to Spock. It was just about knee height, although the angle of the shuttle meant it was deeper in some areas than others. McCoy gave Spock two hypos. “The second one is for the pain I know you're in. When we get out of here, I'm checking those hands.” Spock nodded. “I know pain relief is not usually something you like but I've been working on this for months to try and get you something that doesn't make you nauseous. I'm pretty certain I got it right and this isn't the ideal way to test it but there's no way there are any adverse side effects. At the very worst, it won't be a great painkiller.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Spock said.
McCoy turned and started to make his way back to his seat. He hoped that Spock would get the energy he needed to get them out of here before the water got a lot higher, but looking at the hole when he'd been close to Spock showed him how little progress Spock had really made. McCoy was doubtful that Spock would be able to create a big enough hole for them to get through, but he wouldn't stop supporting his friend in his plight, he only wished he could do more. His wandering mind made him lose track of the awkward footing the shuttle's angle created and he took a misstep and slipped, submerging himself in the water. The water wasn't that deep, but the shock of slipping made his gasp in a breath of water. He struggled to right himself, thinking that if he didn't do so quickly enough Spock would be in after him and he gasped in oxygen as he righted himself, coughing and spluttering as he did so.
“What a clumsy arsehole I am,” he said eventually after he'd caught his breath and clambered back into his chair. The exertion hadn't done him much good and he could see Spock shooting concerned glances his way. He really was fine, if not a little embarrassed.
Whether it was McCoy's slip or the effects the hypos and food had, but Spock worked diligently on widening the hole. It was close to big enough for them to squeeze through when the water had reached just above McCoy's waist as he stood in the water. It looked tight but it might be enough. McCoy had watched Spock's arms tremble with the effort to widen the gap further and if there was a chance he might be able to get out without putting more pressure on Spock, he would do his best.
“Let me try,” McCoy insisted.
“I should go first, to ensure it is safe outside,” Spock said.
“Yeah, but if I get stuck, I don't think I could push you through,” McCoy joked.
Spock looked at the hole he'd created. “Let me just try to widen it a little further. I doubt either of us can fit through it easily,” he said. Spock's fatigued muscles trembled when he picked up the lever, let alone trying to prise the metal further apart. It seemed he made a little more progress.
“Okay, that's enough,” McCoy encouraged. “I'm sure I can fit through that.”
They moved the empty storage boxes Spock had sat on beneath the hole and McCoy clambered up. He had to twist his body into a certain angle to get through. It was bad luck that McCoy's calf caught against the side of the metal and cut his leg open, blood spurting from the wound. “Shit!” he exclaimed as he hauled himself out. “Pass me my bag,” he asked Spock, reaching back down into the hole, vaguely aware of the slight spatter of blood decorating Spock's face. He pulled his trouser leg up and saw the deep cut. It wasn't a big wound and he quickly wiped it down and bandaged it. He quickly looked around himself for signs of danger and saw no one and looked back down at Spock. “I'm okay,” he assured him. Spock nodded and started to pass the emergency kits out. McCoy carefully put them to one side, making sure they wouldn't fall into the water surrounding the crashed shuttle.
Spock barely had the strength left in his arms to haul himself out. He adopted the same shape as McCoy to squeeze through the hole, but once his arms were out, he struggled to pull his remaining bodyweight out. McCoy had to grab and haul him out as best he could. It didn't help that they were both soaked through and it carried extra weight, let alone them being cold as well.
It took Spock a moment to recover once they were free from the shuttle and McCoy noticed Spock's hand rub his midsection. He may have caught it climbing out of the craft, it wouldn't be surprising the way he'd had to do it.
The sky was a ghastly yellow tinge looking sick and ill but the unmistakable storm clouds ahead were somehow worse.
“Over there,” Spock said, point to a slight clearing up ahead where the trees gave some slight shelter.
McCoy nodded and they both clambered over the shuttle and through the shallow water and onto dry land, heading into the trees and the shelter it gave.
They both sat in the shallow shelter breathing heavily. They were soaked, cold, and exhausted.
“Now we can wait for rescue,” McCoy said.
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darkhymns-fic · 5 years
Text
In a Sea of Promises
In all of the promises Lloyd had made to Colette, one of them had been how he would teach Colette how to swim. And he always made sure to keep his promises.
Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Irving/Colette Brunel Rating: G Mirror Links: AO3  Notes: For @colloydweek​ Day 1: Promises! Expect fluff.
In Iselia, the summers were usually dry, everything so enclosed within thick forests, but the earth would smell rich after a sudden shower from the skies. It was after these rainy days that Lloyd would go rushing downstream, following the winding river that snaked past his house and into glades that reflected brighter green underneath the sun’s rays.
Colette was not supposed to go past the town’s perimeters unless accompanied by priests, but summer days made everyone lax, including those who would guard the gates. So she and Lloyd had easily passed, soon finding his favorite wading spot among the leaves, where flying insects that would sometimes skid across the water.
“You wanna come in?” Lloyd asked her. He was already waist deep in the water, his jacket and shirt laying on the grass, his pants now soaked. He was trying to catch some fish that slipped by his legs with his bare hands, all his attempts turning out unsuccessful. But he knew he’d get it eventually!
Colette was seated on the edge of the river, boots off to let her feet splash in the water. Her hair was slightly damp with sweat from the heat, her overcoat taken off to get her some relief, leaving her in her dress. But she shook her head. “It looks kinda deep in there…”
“Just a little! Only when you go over here-” He demonstrated by stepping a few feet to his right, then slipped underwater suddenly. His head broke through the surface again after a moment, shaking his now soaked hair. “Guh! Uh, yeah! Just a little bit.”
Colette giggled, her hands clasped neatly over her knees, moving her legs back and forth. “Hm, I can’t really swim though. And.. I might get in trouble if they knew I was trying to swim.” Her whole dress would take too long to dry off if she tried diving with it.
“Aw, okay.” Lloyd and Genis would go swimming all the time, and though he knew Colette couldn’t really join him, it hadn’t stopped him from asking. Even still…
“Maybe I can teach you next time though?”
Colette raised her head. The sun shone brightly on her hair.
“Yeah! I can teach you! That’d be okay, right? I can bring some of my clothes so you don’t have to use your dress when swimming.” He didn’t notice the blush on her cheeks as he tried devising this plan.
“Is that really okay?” she asked, her voice low, enough that he needed to swim a bit closer to her to hear.
“Sure! If you don’t believe me then… I promise to teach you how to swim! Okay?”
Colette smiled, her feet splashing the water happily. “Y-yeah! Next time, for sure!”
“Hey, you’re splashing on me!”
They both laughed, all while the sun was beginning to set, coloring the sky numerous shades of red and orange. “It’s getting late… but next time then?” Colette asked hopefully.
Lloyd nodded. “Yeah, I told you! It’s a promise!”
But that had been just a few weeks before Colette’s journey, and in a bunch of other promises he made, that particular one had slipped his mind…
The heat underneath Tethe’alla’s sun was much like Sylvarant’s, but the salt spray from the ocean made it different, especially when combined with the humidity. Not like the dry heat of Iselia’s forests, where instead of salt, it was the scent of pine that invaded your senses. But it didn’t make Lloyd not want to go into the waters any less!
“Colette! Come on!” Lloyd was already dashing on the sands, the giant diving flippers he wore nearly making him trip. Some people stared at the boy who not only wore the giant flippers but also diving goggles complete with a snorkel, some of those people including a sighing Zelos.
“He’s such a kid. Never going to get anywhere with anyone dressed like that, right, hunny?” He leaned near a certain voluptuous lady, grinning wide in his speedo and donned sunglasses.
Sheena narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you talking to me?”
“Lloyd! Too fast!” a voice called out across the beach. Colette was rushing after Lloyd, her bare feet gently padding along the shore, her braided hair bouncing across her back as she moved. Once she reached the water, she flinched, even as the water pulled back, damping the sand beneath her. “It’s cold!”
“Yeah, it’s supposed to be!” The rivers near his home were not at all like the waves that kept crashing on Altamira’s shore. Lloyd was already diving through them (forgetting to lower the goggles over his eyes), before coming back to the surface. He accidentally swallowed some of the water which was really salty, but he was okay after coughing for a little while. “Come in already! (Cough!) We can play water tag!”
Colette, however, remained at the shore. Though she smiled as the water rushed around her ankles, she made no move towards Lloyd. “Umm.. I think I’m okay here!”
Well, that wasn't any fun though. Unless she wanted to make some sandcastles, but he and Genis had already started making some earlier that day… until Genis got mad that Lloyd was making a better sand castle than he was.
He was getting distracted, so Lloyd swam back onto the shore, half of a flipper getting caught inside the densely packed sand until he freed it loose. “Is something wrong?”
Colette scratched the side of her cheek nervously. The sun beat down on her hair, burnishing it an even brighter shade of gold. “Ah, sorry! I'm just a little… it's very different from the rivers and…”
The answer soon came to him before she could say it. “Oh man, I forgot already!” That’s right, Colette didn't know how to swim!
“I'm sorry,” she apologized again, knowing what he meant. “It looks like fun though! Maybe Zelos will join you.”
“I don't think he's going to really...” Lloyd mused. At one end of the beach, he could see Zelos being yanked by his hair. Sheena had curled his locks around her fingers, dragging him down as a high-pitched yell erupted from Zelos’ throat. “He looks busy.”
Oddly, Zelos’ screaming jogged an old memory of Lloyd’s.
“Hey, didn't I promise you something?” Okay, well he promised a lot of things but this one was particularly important!
“Oh? What is it?” she asked.
“I said one day I'd teach you how to swim, right?” He remembered the river, Colette seated on the bank, her smile much wider than it usually was, always wider when they sneaked away from the town. “How about it?” He grinned. “We can have those swimming lessons finally!”
“Ah, really?” She looked suddenly so excited, before tempering that away. Just like back then, she pulled back to nervousness, hands fiddling with the tied-up sash that circled her waist, covering part of her bathing suit. “Oh, but… I don't want to get in the way. It'll probably be boring to teach me and we don't get to relax often…”
“No way, how would it be boring?” That didn't make sense to him. The beach was nice and there were no weird worries about the town getting mad. He reached for her hand, noting how wet and clammy his own palm was against her own. “It’ll be fun!”
Still, Colette hesitated, looking at the ground. The water lapped around their ankles before leaving them in the surf. “The water does feel nice…” she murmured. Maybe she still had all those fears from back then, even if right now they didn't matter. He had to come up with a way to convince her...
“If you learn to swim today, um… I’ll give you something!”
Okay, wait, what actually?
Colette turned back to him with wide eyes. “Oh?”
“Yeah!” he said, already going full on ahead with this choice. “Think of it as like… a reward! For doing stuff!”
“That sounds really fun! What reward do I get?”
Lloyd had no idea. “It’s a surprise!” He really had no idea. “That makes it more fun!” Yeah, he had no clue.
“Oh, it does!” Colette readily agreed. “Then… I guess should try to learn today! And I’ll try to do good too! I hope I don't slow you down.”
“Nah, you won’t,” he said, pulling her along. Maybe he had a spare necklace in his pack somewhere. “And… I’ll promise it’ll be a good reward too!” Now he was just digging himself deeper…
But he could keep his promises to her, and he was sure he could keep this one too.
It was a bit different out here than in the river. The water moved constantly around them, the currents of the waves stronger than either were used to. But Lloyd kept ahold of Colette’s hand until they were just waist deep in the ocean, where the waves didn’t build up as much.
“When we go in a little further, our feet won’t reach the ground anymore. But I got you, okay?”
Colette had her other hand outstretched in the water, her eyes focused around them. “Okay! Do we go out further now or…?”
Lloyd was thinking on how exactly to do this. He had never taught anyone to swim really… and he just sort of learned how to by himself. (Dirk had always talked about how dwarves just sank in deep water.) Then he remembered something that Noishe would do when he swam.
Lloyd reached out for Colette’s other hand, gripping it tight. “Here, first let’s try the doggy paddle! That one’s easy enough.”
He knew immediately that would get Colette’s full attention. “A doggy paddle?” Her eyes widened with glee. “Does that mean doggies swim this way?”
“Yeah, basically!” He didn’t see any dogs on the beach though, and Noishe was stabled somewhere, too afraid of the people again. “But you can also swim with dogs like this!” He pulled at her arms slightly, getting her body to stretch out in the water. The end of her twin braided hair was soaked now, falling beneath the surface. “Just kick up your legs from behind and you’ll start moving.”
Colette looked a bit reluctant to just have her feet leave the seafloor. He could see her hopping a little, fingers entwining with his. “Mm, but what if I trip?”
“I don’t think you can trip in the water… well, maybe!” With Colette, anything was possible. Then another idea took over. “It’s like flying, isn’t it? When you just float in the air? It’s the same thing here! But you’re floating in the water instead.”
With that explanation, he felt some of the tension in Colette’s fingers loosen. “Oh! I guess so…”
“Yeah! Go on, try it!”
Colette had always trusted Lloyd, especially when he was encouraging. She soon moved her body, letting the water buoy her as got she into a horizontal position. “Is, um, this okay?”
Lloyd made sure to keep his grip on her, smiling wide. “Yep. Now try kicking your feet.”
There was something incredibly adorable in the way Colette had to follow his next suggestion. It was like she worried that her feet would still find some way to betray her, but he heard the splashing from behind Colette, the slow way she moved towards him.
Lloyd started to float backwards, helping her along through their clasped hands. “See? It’s easy!”
She was smiling so wide, the sea spray damping her hair, the water hugging her, reflecting flashes of the sun all around her. “Hehe, it is kinda easy… and fun!”
Colette didn’t kick as fast as Noishe did, but she was still doing it! Lloyd figured that was the important thing. After a few minutes of them going across the ocean’s surface this way, Colette kicking as happily as can be, Lloyd decided to try the next step.
“Okay, so I’m going to start letting go a bit more, but you keep on kicking like that, okay?”
Colette blinked, her cheerful expression soon marred with worry. “Ah, are you sure?”
“Yeah! I’ll go slow, so it’s like…” Carefully, Lloyd let slide his fingers over her own, so that their once clasped hands now loosened. The water made the action happen a bit faster than intended. “Just keep swimming, Colette! Use your hands to paddle when I let go!”
“O… okay! Just, um..” He felt her fingers reflexively curl around his, but still he kept trying to go through their lesson. Both their arms straightened out as the space between them widened. The water, with its ever-shifting currents, helped with their separation. Maybe too much though, as Lloyd noted Colette’s kicking had turned from an even rhythm into small flailing.
Before he could say anything, Colette’s upper body then began to sink a little – she had gone overboard in her paddling! As if she was desperately trying to swim over to him but lost her balance while doing so. Her chin went in the water, eyes widening in surprise.
“Ah!” she yelled, or tried to, as her voice was muffled by the water.
“Whoa, it’s okay, I got you!” Maybe they had done this part of the lesson too quick. Lloyd tried to pull her up, reaffirming his grip on her hands. Soon, Colette was already rising to the surface.
And then above the surface, and then – wait, now she was pulling him instead! And upwards! “C-Colette! Wait a second!”
“Oh, whoops!” Colette giggled as she hovered in the air, her wings spread out behind her. “I got nervous… sorry.”
She wasn’t carrying him up too far just yet, but Lloyd could feel himself stretching, his lower half still in the water, as he more or less hung onto Colette. “Did you just panic summon your wings?”
“I didn’t mean to!”
Laughter bubbled in his throat. Part of him wondered if he should just let her carry him like this, flying them both across the ocean. But then, they wouldn’t exactly be swimming anymore if they did that. Lloyd shifted his hands so that they traveled up her forearms for a better hold, urging her to come back. “You dork. You won’t get your reward if you just fly!”
“Oh, you’re right. I’m sorry!” Gently, Colette fluttered back to the water’s surface. She let herself submerge, just up to her torso. Her own hands held onto Lloyd’s arms now. “I won’t mess up this time!”
“And no more apologizing,” he reprimanded. Still, this had been even more fun than expected. He saw a flush of excitement on Colette’s cheeks, whether from the swimming or the sunshine, he wasn’t sure. But she looked really happy – it was always really strange that she was never allowed to do something as simple as swimming. But there were a lot of things she hadn’t been able to do, and Lloyd wanted to help change that for her.
Also, he still needed to figure out a prize for her… Maybe he could win something at the casinos! Oh wait, Regal said he wasn’t allowed to play there. Well, last minute gifts were his specialty anyway, one he was aware of as he saw Colette’s necklace hang down her neck, the sunshine reflecting off its metal surface. The salt spray wouldn’t ruin the finish or rust the chain, forged of special materials known only to dwarves. But he could probably make something better…
“Am I being too much trouble though?” she suddenly asked.
He smiled. “Hey, I promised I’d teach you and that’s what I’m doing! Unless you wanna stop.”
“Mm, no, I want you to teach me.” She nodded. “I want that a lot!”
“Alright!” He tightened his grip on her arms. “Let’s go!”
Lloyd and Colette might have let time get away from them, and they may have forgotten their friends back on land, who started to leave for the comfort of the hotel one by one.
“Hey! We’re going now!” But Genis’ voice couldn’t seem to reach them. He could still hear them splashing, Lloyd’s own loud and encouraging voice traveling over the water, but only aimed at one person. “Ugh, they’re too far out.”
“They’ll be alright,” his sister commented, already heading up towards the beach exit, gesturing for him to follow. “Now let’s go. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
“You just don’t want to be near the water…” he grumbled, but went after her. His two friends apparently had more important things to be busy with today.
Colette had been doing a few swimming techniques Lloyd had taught her – the doggy paddle, a few ways to dive, and even how to float on her back. But Lloyd still tried to get her to actually swim, and once remembering how she tried to get to him when he moved away, it gave him another idea.
“You’re balancing okay?”
Colette’s hands were sifting in the water, but she was afloat, standing within the water despite her feet not touching the ground. “Y-yeah, I think.”
“Okay, now try to catch up to me!”
“Wh-”
Lloyd was soon swimming further out, feet kicking through the water until he was quite a bit aways. But he turned back to her, hands waving. “Over here! You can do it!”
Colette hesitated, but not for too long. “R-right!” Cheeks puffed out and eyes bright, Colette employed everything Lloyd taught her, letting her body get held up by the water, using her arms to paddle through it. She nearly upended herself a few times, somehow, but got back into position, slowly cutting through the water to reach Lloyd.
“No wings!” he called out. “Well, unless you really need them!” If Colette found herself overwhelmed by the currents, her wings could help her out with that.
“I’m… okay!” she gasped out, and soon enough, she was just a few feet towards Lloyd, limbs a little shaky, but still there. To help her out, he reached out to grab her arms, and then swung her around, the water droplets falling off Colette and onto him during the momentum.
“Lloyd!” she said with a laugh, and soon she was lowered back to the water, half-falling against him, her hands placed against his shoulders. “I would have tripped!”
“Nah, I had you!” He squeezed her arms in reassurance.
Colette was raising her head to him, her eyes soon seeing past him towards the sky. “Oh, it’s getting dark.”
Lloyd blinked, then raised his head as well. The sky was painted with hues of red and orange, the sun leaving trails of its light within the expanse. The air felt a little colder too. How long have they been out here?
“Ah man, my hands are probably all wrinkly and stuff,” Lloyd complained. Then remembered something even more important! “Agh, we probably missed dinner too!”
Colette lifted her head at that, then looked towards the beach. “Oh! I guess so. Genis isn’t here.”
Well, Lloyd supposed he could munch on some gels instead… “Still though, I can’t believe I didn’t notice the time. I was really into those lessons!”
“Yeah!” Colette readily agreed. Her braided hair was unraveled a bit now, Lloyd noticed. The sea breeze picked it up, lifting it to the air. “Me too… Did I do good, you think?”
Lloyd gave her a thumbs up. “Yep! I’d say you passed the lessons. You can swim for sure now!”
With a cheerful laugh, she bounced a bit in his hold, the water current unconsciously bringing her closer. “Thank you, Lloyd! So, um…” She fiddled with her hands. “You said I’d get a prize if I learned, right?”
“Hm?” A low, passing wave shifted them again, and somehow making him remember. “Oh! Right, that was… yeah!” Maybe he could say it was in his room. And then, quickly make her a bracelet or something in 10 minutes? He might have some spare ones…
“Lloyd?” she asked curiously, seeing him hesitate. “It’s okay if I don’t get anything though. Swimming was really fun.”
“No, no, just uh…” He could come up with something, couldn’t he? And then it did, and then it wouldn’t leave his head.
It was really the only thing he had left on his mind. He couldn’t make her a figure out here, or win her a prize at the amusement park, or anything that sounded at least somewhat cool. But he still wasn’t entirely sure where the idea came from.
When he kissed her, he felt Colette shiver, but not pull away. The water held them both, all throughout his clumsy kiss, tasting the salt on her lips. There was a small sound from her, very soft, and her hands then moved against his chest as her mouth pressed against his.
So, uh, he had to keep kissing her. For the reward, and, yeah.
“U-um, Lloyd,” she whispered, lifting her lips away slightly. How come…? “Your goggles…”
Oh. Oh! “Oh, sorry!” He pulled back, seeing the slight indentation of his goggles against her forehead. Ah man, he had been too stupid. “Sorry, didn’t mean to uh…” Maybe Zelos was right about this dumb thing. He never actually wore it!
Also, he had just kissed her with no warning at all. It just seemed… like a thing to do? He started to let go, but Colette hadn’t moved from him at all, although she rubbed at her forehead a bit. Man, he was an idiot.
“Um, should probably go back, I guess,” he said. Also, he should probably make her an actual prize instead of just whatever that had been…
Then he heard her say, “Thank you, Lloyd. For keeping your promises to me like always.”
That had surprised him to hear. He looked at her, at the way she smiled up at him, the line in her forehead finally fading. The waves shifted around them again, paralleling the hues of red and orange from above.
“And for the prize, too! I’ll… try to earn some more!” Her smiled morphed to a grin, hands still on him, the water so comfortable between them.
“Huh, well… I think you’ve earned plenty more?” Lloyd said, again wondering where all this was coming from. “And I still probably need to give them to you.” Wow, he really didn’t understand but here he was, talking about it.
Colette seemed very okay with that. “Without the goggles though?”
Lloyd laughed, pulling at the strap around his head. “Y-yeah, without the goggles.”
He gave her a few more prizes for her hard work then, the waters calm despite the darkening sky. He’d made a lot of promises to Colette over the years, but he was really glad he kept this one to her.
23 notes · View notes
sml8180 · 5 years
Text
Shot at Redemption - 15
Ruse
Rose started out early in the morning, making her way towards the Hope County Jail. She was running through what she would say in her head the entire way there, trying to ignore how sick to her stomach she felt. She had evaded law enforcement before, even lied right to their faces, but the stakes had never been this high. If she slipped up, she would probably be dead by sundown. Each step she took, she ran through the possibilities in her head, what could happen and what she would do in response. When she ran out of scenarios, Rose sighed, her mind turning to last night. She hadn’t been afraid up on that sign, not when she was by John’s side. She could still feel his lips on her own if she thought about it. Whenever they were together, the world seemed to stand still. But, she didn’t have time to think about all that, now, as she approached the jail.
It took some careful words to get inside, but she was eventually let in without issue. As she walked in, she spotted Grace Armstrong. The sniper was talking with another woman who had a hood on, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. They didn’t pay Rose much mind as she walked by, asking someone there where she could find Whitehorse. She was lead to an office not far off, and ushered inside, the door being shut behind her. In the office, Whitehorse was sitting at the desk, a female Deputy was by the door, and Nick stood in the corner behind Whitehorse, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I was starting to think you weren’t gonna show,” Nick told her, watching as the woman sat down in the folding chair across from the Sheriff’s desk.
“You didn’t give me a time, you know.” Rose retorted, looking up at the man.
“You weren’t at the bed n’ breakfast. They said you checked out, we were about to go trackin’ you down,” the Sheriff cut in. “Mind tellin’ us just where you’re staying, now?”
“There’s a little cabin by the river. I’m staying there, for now. A little distance from town will probably make it easier to meet up with Seed to get info for you guys,” Rose told him.
“I guess that’s fair. Good thinking,” Whitehorse mused. “What’d you find out?”
“Even with Faith down, Jacob doesn’t seem to be too worried. He isn’t suspecting much of a fight, right now. It’d be a good idea for the Deputy to go after him first. Once one brother goes down, they’ll be on high alert, anyways. Might as well take out the biggest first; Jacob’s basically their head of security for the Project, got the most resources and men to throw at the Deputy.” Rose put on her best act, telling the Sheriff what she and John had come up with. She could only hope that John was telling his brother the same sort of story, so he could seem like he wasn’t expecting what was about to hit him.
“That’s it?” Nick interjected. “All you could get was that Jacob isn’t worried? Going down on him now would be a death wish. He’s still got too many people to call in.”
“If Jacob isn’t worried, the others probably aren’t, either. And, the more relaxed they are, the easier it’ll be to chip away at their forces to get at them,” Rose told him. “That’s what I’ve got, take it or leave it.”
“It’s something to work with, at least,” Whitehorse mused. “If the Deputy can take down some of Jacob’s forces and get at him, John and Joseph won’t have him to fall back on for people to throw at them.”
“Exactly!” Rose threw a hand up, leaning forward in her seat. “Your Deputy doesn’t have to go full-force just yet. They can pick off the outposts in the area, and make their way towards Jacob, before landing the final blow to him.”
“Sounds like a plan.” The Sheriff stood, holding his hand out for Rose to shake. The woman mirrored his actions, firmly shaking the man’s hand. Nick shrugged, making his way towards the door and opening it, walking out of the office. Rose started to follow, before Whitehorse called after her. “Hey! Everyone says you’re always walkin’ everywhere. We’ve lost a few people, one of their cars is still here, keys and everything. Take it. It’ll make life a little easier for you.” The man took a set of keys and tossed them to Rose, who caught them easily.
“Thanks, Sheriff. I appreciate it,” she said, giving him a nod, before walking out. Rose sighed as she left the office, looking at the key in her hand, turning it over absentmindedly as she walked out of the jail, pressing one of the buttons to help locate the vehicle.
The car the key went to wasn’t too bad. It was a pretty standard car, clearly a few years old, with beat up, dark blue paint. She got into the vehicle, sighing a bit, glad she wouldn’t have to always walk everywhere. Some of the distances she was covering on a nearly daily basis were long, and even having adjusted to the level of activity, her legs were constantly aching. She buckled into the seat, put in the key, and turned it. The car’s engine came to life easily, and the gauge showed that there was nearly a full tank of gas. Smiling to herself, Rose drove off, heading back towards the cabin.
As she pulled up the dirt driveway to the cabin, Rose spotted John’s truck there. She smiled brightly, parking beside his truck and getting out, heading to the porch and heading inside. John was sitting at the table, just like he’d been when she first found him in her cabin, reading off her arrest records. The man smiled when she walked in, standing from his seat and walking towards her.
“Did they buy it?” He asked, getting right to the point.
“Yeah. Nick was skeptical, but Whitehorse bought it, easy.” Rose told him. “The Deputy’s gonna be chipping away at Jacob’s forces for now.”
John nodded a bit. “I told Jacob that he could expect the Deputy causing trouble. He’s gonna hold back for now, and see what he can do face to face with them. I know he’s a soldier, but I’m still hoping he’ll come out of this.”
“He will, Blue. You three are tough as nails, and that goes double for Jacob. You’ll handle this, I know it.” Rose looked up at John, reassuring him as he pulled her close to his body.
“I hope you’re right.” John sighed, resting his chin on the top of Rose’s head.
“I’m sure things will be alright.” Rose smiled a bit, letting her head rest against John’s chest. The man was a good head taller than she was, making it easy for them to embrace like this. They remained like that for a few moments, before John pulled away.
“I was thinking we could try to get you in a little deeper, today? While I’m here, might as well try, right?” He offered, his hands still on her shoulders.
“I guess so. It can’t hurt to try, at least,” Rose agreed. John smiled a bit, leading Rose down to the river.
The area they got to was shallow with a gentle current, to hopefully keep Rose calm. They both took off their shoes and socks, rolling up the legs of their jeans. John stepped into the water first, wading in up to his shins. He held out his hand for Rose, and she took it, taking a breath as she stepped into the water, letting it run over her feet. She stayed where she was for a moment, simply standing ankle-deep in the river. John didn’t force her further, letting the smaller woman take her time. Eventually, she took another step, the water starting to reach her shins. She squeezed John’s hand, not letting her brown eyes leave his blue ones for even a second.
“It’s alright. You’re doing well, Rose,” John reassured her. “I want you to take one more step towards me, alright? Just one more. I know you can do it.” Rose took a breath, looking into John’s eyes as she willed herself to take another step closer to him. He smiled at her, taking a small step back. “And again.”
“John, I don’t know if I can…” Rose didn’t sound sure as she spoke, her grip on John’s hand tightening a bit.
“I know you can. This is the last one, I promise. Just one little step, right to me.”
Rose bit her lip, looking at John, before turning her gaze down to the water. John carefully took his free hand and gently held her chin in his hand, bringing her head back up to meet his gaze again.
“Don’t look down, keep your eyes on me, Rose. Eyes on me,” he urged her. He smiled as Rose took another step towards him, the water now most of the way up her shins, nearing her knees. “There you go, that’s it,” John smiled, clearly proud of her. He wrapped his arms around Rose’s waist, pulling her close to him.
“I guess this isn’t so bad.” Rose smiled up at him, thankful to be in his arms.
“See? I knew you could do it.” John hugged her close, tilting her head up before gently kissing her for a moment.
The couple remained in the water for some time, actually walking through the water for a bit before returning. Rose was more relaxed, now, holding John’s hand as they walked. They eventually got out of the water, sitting on the rocks by the river for a bit, before they pulled on their socks and shoes, heading back to the cabin.
“I have a cooler in the truck, thought I’d bring you some things, considering the short notice of you coming back here,” John told her. “I can go get it, and we can put things away.”
“Thanks, Blue. That sounds like a good idea.” Rose agreed, smiling a bit. They got the cooler out of John’s truck and brought it inside, working together to put away the produce and bread John had brought her. Stored properly, they would last her for a fair time.
The pair relaxed after things were put away, simply chatting and enjoying being with one another. They talked and laughed, and Rose found herself nestled close to John’s side, wrapped in his arms, letting her fingers lazily trace over some of his tattoos. They were both calm, simply relaxing with one another.
“Joseph is preaching again, tonight,” John told Rose, sounding casual about it.
“Yeah? You asking me to go with you, Blue?” She responded, looking up at him.
“If you want to.”
“What time?”
John checked the watch on his wrist, thinking for a second before he answered, “We’d need to leave in an hour and a half.”
“Well, I didn’t make plans with the others, so I’m free. Why not.” Rose smiled a bit at him. Even though she was still skeptical, Rose had to admit that Joseph had a way with words, just like John did. The way he said things made her think, and she didn’t mind it one bit. She went back to tracing John’s tattoos with her fingers, smiling a bit. “Some of these are really nice.”
“I’m pretty proud of some of them.” John smiled, simply watching Rose’s fingers trace over the patterns inked into his skin. His free hand traced over Rose’s tattoo absentmindedly. “Do you have any others?”
“No, just that one. I have sketches of others I’d consider getting, but just haven’t done it.”
“Can I see them? If you’re willing to share.”
Rose smiled a bit, getting up from her spot by John’s side and going over to the small bedside table, picking up the journal that sat there. She flipped through a few pages as she walked over, making sure there were no entries mixed in with the drawings that she wouldn’t want John to see. When she settled back by his side, she offered the book to him, open to a page of small doodles of various different things. There were roses, lighthouses, butterflies, among sketches of landscapes, buildings, and even a few firearms. John turned the page, finding more of these drawings, and smiled.
“You’re quite an artist,” he told her, still looking over each doodle and sketch.
“Thanks. I took up drawing when I was pretty young, even got escorted home after the cops found me spraying graffiti in an abandoned house that was set to be torn down.” Rose laughed a bit at the memory. “God, my parents were pissed when they saw me at the door with an officer over my shoulder. Couple weeks later, they had be putting up a mural in my father’s church. Constructive outlet for it, y’know? Wonder if it’s still up…”
John chuckled a bit. “I took up art to occupy my mind when I was younger. Moved on to tattoo work after deciding to take some lessons around the end of my time in law school.”
“Cool.” Rose smiled, before indicating one of the more refined doodles. This one was similar to a handful of others, just simple chains. “I’m considering working with something like this for a future tattoo.”
“Chains?”
“Yeah. Not sure why, but I wanna work some kind of meaning into it. I dunno, maybe someday.” Rose shrugged a bit, taking the journal and shutting it, setting the small book aside. The pair sat together for a while longer, chatting about artwork and tattoos for some time, before John checked his watch again.
“We should get going, if we want to be on time.” He suggested, starting to stand once Rose got up.
“Sounds like a plan. Do you have any idea what Joseph will be preaching about?”
“Last he told me, he was planning a sermon on loyalty.” John chuckled a bit as they walked out to his truck. Rose followed him, unsure if she was shocked or amused by the topic Joseph would be discussing. It was on her mind the entire way to the compound, but it was too late to back out, now.
Taglist: @deputyoneill @thot4stacipratt @deputyshitlordsantana @jacobsmusicbox @farcrying5 @johnseedsplane @rookieseed @ignoranttruly @cerulean-aries
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snarktheater · 6 years
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Ready Player One — Level Two (Chapters 17-18)
“I’m not crazy about reality, but it’s still the only place to get a decent meal. —Groucho Marx”
Hey, at least the book isn’t quoting a fictional text that only exists in its own universe this time. That said, you know, when the quotes you give the biggest highlight to all have to do with how much the world sucks, it’s kind of killing my buzz about the whole “being alive” thing. Oh, and I guess it makes it look like you’re trying too hard to be edgy.
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But I guess these are all shallow, surface problems. Let’s dig deeper as we enter Level Two and find out how much worse the infodumping gets. Because yes, it’s back in full force.
See, the book actually does justify splitting itself in multiple parts. At least for now. Specifically, it does so by way of a time skip. Well…sort of. More of a compressed time frame of a few months, which is mostly summarized to us through Wade and Artemis’s chatlogs.
Because, yeah, they’ve been chatting. Or, I should say, Wade has been harassing Artemis until she caved in and agreed to talk to him.
Parzival: Yes! Hey! I can’t believe you finally responded to one of my chat requests. Art3mis: Only to ask you to cut it out.
I will skip over the ensuing banter, because yes, of course they start bantering in spite of Artemis making it very clear she does not want to talk to him. Banter which pretty quickly takes a deep, hard dive into…questionable territory.
Parzival: So you’re telling me, definitively, that you are a female? IRL? […] After analyzing the available data, I’ve concluded that you must be a female. […] Because I don’t want to find out that I’ve got a crush on some 300 lb. dude named Chuck who lives in his mother’s basement in suburban Detroit.
I think there should be a ban on men using the word “female” as a noun. Preferably until the end of time. The correlation between that and misogyny is too high. Although, I don’t know, maybe it’s a useful alarm bell.
Artemis challenges that, and expresses suspicion that he wouldn’t care about her personality, and not “the package it comes in”. Parzival claims that he totally does, and…put a pin in that, we’ll get back to it in a short moment. But first, Artemis flat-out rejects the idea of engaging in romance with Wade, mostly on the grounds that he doesn’t really know her, only the side of her she lets him see. Which is fair, although I’m not sure if you can really act like that’s only true online (or even more true online, in their world at least).
But if you think rejection is going to deter Wade “I have stalked this girl for years on her blog” Watts, well…I mean, refusing to take no for an answer is how this chapter started, so you know that’s not happening.
So he insists. And insists. And insists some more. Oh, and did you know the Sixers tried to blow up Wade’s trailer?
Art3mis: You shouldn’t reveal stuff like that! I could be a Sixer spy trying to profile you. Parzival: The Sixers already profiled me, remember? They blew up my house. Well, it was a trailer. But they blew it up. Art3mis: I know. I’m still freaked out about that. I can only imagine how you feel. Parzival: Revenge is a dish best served cold.
You sure sound torn up about it, Wade.
Yeah, the book is basically going to flat-out ignore the ramifications of Wade’s house blowing up and him being forced to move to a new location and forge himself a new identity. No consequences—not practical ones nor emotional ones. It’s especially weird, because…moving to Columbus on the money he earns through his endorsement deals was already his plan to begin with. If the only purpose was to get Wade from point A to point B, the setup was already there. But since there’s no other consequences to IOI blowing up his home…what was the point of IOI blowing up his home? From a pure storytelling perspective, I mean? I’m just puzzled at this point.
Somehow, Artemis is still talking to Wade, so they start playing a game of one question each. We do learn that Artemis is 19 years old, studying poetry and creative writing in college. Not very important information, but it’s something. Assuming she’s telling the truth, but I’m sure she is.
And now, we get back to that “Wade doesn’t care about the package Artemis comes in, only her personality”. With bonus transphobia!
Parzival: […] Now, spill it. Are you a woman? And by that I mean are you a human female who has never had a sex-change operation? Art3mis: That’s pretty specific. Parzival: Answer the question, Claire. Art3mis: I am, and always have been, a human female.
I…hopefully don’t need to explain the problem with this, right? It’s basically transphobia 101: he states that trans women aren’t women, or at least not “really” women; he overfocuses on their body and specifically genitals (using some outdated and offensive terminology even by 2011 standards, I’m fairly certain); and they both equate genitals with gender, since Wade acts like you can only even be a woman post-transition, and Artemis’s response implies that pre-transition trans women aren’t women.
But it’s even worse in the light of that thing I told you to put a pin on. Because if Wade doesn’t care about her body, only her personality…shouldn’t it not matter that she’s trans? Hell, shouldn’t it not matter that she’s trans and pre-transition? And if he does care about her genitals, shouldn’t it still not matter that she’s trans if she’s post-transition?
I’ll stop this discussion here before I myself get too close to talking about trans people’s genitals. All I’ll say is this: if you think the transphobia is an isolated issue, you’re not thinking hard enough. With this statement, Wade doesn’t just prove he doesn’t consider trans women as real women, he also establishes that he does care about Artemis’s body.
It’s easy to make a grand statement about how you love women no matter how they look. It’s much harder to maintain that stance in how you actually talk to and about women. It’s a similar problem that plagued the Nerd Porn Auteur poem: it’s one thing to say you want all women and all body types to be viewed as attractive, but when the rest of your poem clearly establishes that you just want to enforce your own standard, it belies your thesis statement.
For the record, I knew this quote was coming, but it’s still awful to read, especially in the context of this guy harassing her into talking to him in the first place, and repeatedly making advances at her in spite of her constant rejection.
You’d think there would be some lull in the misogyny in this book, but apparently that’s a tall order.
Finally, Artemis says she has to go, and says they shouldn’t talk again until one of them finds the egg. Wade’s reaction?
Parzival: Can I at least keep e-mailing you? […] You can’t stop me from e-mailing you. Art3mis: Actually, I can. I can block you on my contact list. Parzival: You wouldn’t do that, though. Would you? Art3mis: Not if you don’t force me to. Parzival: Harsh. Unnecessarily harsh.
You’re literally saying you’ll harass her more, so…no, clearly it’s not “unnecessarily harsh”, it’s exactly the right response.
So of course, after a scene break…
I started e-mailing her.
Yup. He starts emailing her weekly, and Artemis, for some reason that’s totally unrelated to being written by a man who’s likely never experienced that kind of harassment and also has no empathy for the people who do, replies to him. Well, not just replies to him; she starts going back and forth and goes all the way to meeting him in private chatrooms.
We played vintage board games, watched movies, and listened to music. We talked for hours. Long, rambling conversations about everything under the sun. Spending time with her was intoxicating. We seemed to have everything in common. We shared the same interests. We were driven by the same goal. She got all of my jokes. She made me laugh. She made me think. She changed the way I saw the world. I’d never had such a powerful, immediate connection with another human being before. Not even with Aech.
For the record, while this is still pretty shallow character and relationship development, I feel like this might be the closest we’ll get to fleshing things out in this book. This is as good as it gets. Or…as good as it’s gotten so far, I should probably say. I have my expectations for what comes next, but it’s wrong to assume, kids.
Speaking of rushed relationship development, we’re now in full skimming mode, to the point where Wade and Artemis now share their research regarding the Hunt, even though that’s basically antithetical to both their established characters. Is this what love is for straight people, becoming the opposite of who you were before? No wonder they have so many hang-ups about marriage.
Wade also tells us about how he missed his graduation and got his diploma by email, and…you gotta wonder at which point the Sixers will catch on to him still being alive, you know. I mean, the endorsement ads with Parzival, I can get that these could go on with Wade dead. But school? Did nobody even bother to identify the corpses in the stack?
If you think I’m asking this for something utterly trivial, don’t worry, we’ll get back to that too. But enough about the plot; I guess we’re giving up on it now.
When I finished school, I’d intended to devote all of my time to the Hunt. But all I really wanted to do was spend time with Art3mis.
Yeah. The girl’s what distracted you from the Hunt. Not the attempt against your life, though. That barely registered as a blip on the radar.
We also get a brief recap of Wade leveling up to 99, the maximum level in the OASIS. This includes a description of a quest where he and Artemis play as characters from the Goonies. And you might be wondering: wait, weren’t the flicksyncs supposed to be this revolutionary new feature? Well, apparently all the quests in the OASIS (or most of them, anyway) are also based on just…replaying the story of existing properties. In fact, it’s starting to look like the OASIS has two types of planets: the ones built by players, like IOI’s planets, and the ones that are built to match existing properties. Which begs the question: what was the OASIS’s launch content, when it had neither of these? Just the starting planet and Ludus?
Anyway, the book suddenly remembers about the Easter Egg, in the most random of fashions imaginable: by having Wade go on a rant about how there are no longer toys in cereal boxes.
It was a tragedy, in my opinion. Another sign that civilization was going straight down the tubes.
Yeah. Toys in cereals, the true canary in the civilization coal mine. Good job there.
But anyway. From this, Wade remembers a hacker from the ’70s (and…yeah, the 70s are fair game all of a sudden) who took on the moniker Captain Crunch, who used the toy whistle from the eponymous cereal to hack into analog phones. From this, wade decides that “the captain” and “the whistle” in the Quatrain are references to…the cereal. Not the hacker. Sure sounds to me like you’re stretching the guess a little far there, book.
I mean, even if he’d stuck to just making the connection, this is still just the character getting divine inspiration to solve the puzzle. Nothing of actual import causes this reveal. This passage is literally introduced as “Then, one morning” and him thinking of the connection. Because, you know, it’s not like giving your readers a riddle they’re able to solve along with the characters would keep them engaged or anything.
And with that random epiphany out of the way, we’re back to a whole lot of nothing, since Eureka moments are apparently the only way Wade solves any of the riddles. And by “nothing” I mean more obsessing over Artemis, and how he wants to meet her face to face, even though earlier this chapter he wouldn’t even send her a picture of himself.
I was certain she had strong feelings for me, but she also kept me at a distance. No matter how much I revealed about myself to her—and I wound up revealing just about everything, including my real name—she always adamantly refused to reveal any details about her own life. All I knew was that she was nineteen and that she lived somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. That was all she would tell me.
You know, the impression I’m getting from this is that you misread her completely and she’s not interested. I mean, she keeps rejecting your attempts at communication unless you pressure her so much that it’s easier to just talk to you, and she won’t give any personal detail. That does not strike me as someone who’s into you.
Wade also grows distant from Aech in this time, because fuck friendship now that he has a woman to stalk, I guess. I mean, of course, they barely qualified as friends in the first place, so…no big loss there.
Somehow, without my realizing it, my obsession with finding Halliday’s Easter egg was gradually being supplanted by my obsession with Art3mis.
I was informed that I used the “Big red flags” gif too soon last time, and…yeah, I’m seeing why now. This is just the worst case scenario. You’re romanticizing some really unhealthy behavior there, book.
And it keeps going. They go on dates now! In the OASIS of course. And they do so in spite of Artemis protesting that it’s not safe for Wade to make public appearances, since, again, IOI wants him dead. Plus, they’re afraid of tabloids.
But there was one exception. One night, she took me to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show in a huge stadium-sized movie theater on the planet Transsexual, where they held the most highly attended and longest-running weekly screening of the movie in the OASIS.
Oh dear. Let’s…let’s move on. I’m not touching the fact that the book dropped Rocky Horror in the same chapter as it featured an incredibly transphobic statement. Someone more qualified will have to take that one.
That night was easily the most fun I’d ever had in my life up to that point. I told Art3mis so afterward, and that was when she leaned over and kissed me for the first time. I couldn’t feel it, of course. But it still set my heart racing.
Yes, yes. I know. Obviously the book means for her to be into him and all my earlier ranting about her not being interested was wrong. Ha, ha. Except, you know, not. Of course she’ll fall for him—she’s designed to, as the love interest. The issue is with what the book chose to portray as her being interested. That is to say, her showing every sign of disinterest. Which is rape culture. No, I’m not mincing words—it is. Equating a woman’s constant rejection to her being into you is exactly what rape culture is about. If you look at what rapists say when on trial, the defense is almost always a variation on “I thought she wanted it”. So this book, providing a fantasy where she really is into it, deep down…yeah, it’s rape culture. And if that phrase sets off your triggers and you have a problem with that, big whoop, just re-read the paragraph and skip them this time. The message still stands.
Thankfully, we don’t have to deal with them being together for too long.
And then one night, like a complete idiot, I told her how I felt.
Well, mostly because the book probably couldn’t handle writing a romance where the characters actually are together for very long, what with its inability to write emotions. But sure, let’s go with “telling someone how you feel about them is an idiot move”. There’s no way that could feed into toxic masculinity or some bad relationship advice.
So, after this line, we get a chapter break, which I guess is supposed to act as a cliffhanger of sorts, since after that the book backtracks a little to set the stage. I’ll go over this quickly: remember Ogden Morrow, Halliday’s best friend? He hosts his birthday party in the OASIS every year, and it’s a big exclusive event, and of course the High Five are invited. Aech is busy, Daito and Shoto never enter a PvP area unless necessary, which leaves Artemis and Wade. Artemis wants to go, and Wade decides to as well to impress her or something.
She said she couldn’t pass up an invitation from Og himself, despite the obvious risks. So, naturally, I told her I would meet her there at the club. It was the only way I could avoid looking like a total wuss.
Wow. You big strong manly man. I’m sure she’ll swoon right into your arms and—oh wait, you ended the previous chapter by telling us you were gonna confess your feelings and it’d end badly. You kinda blew your load early there to be trying to milk some tension out of this there, buddy.
And I hear you. Back up, you say, a PvP zone? Yes! Ogden Morrow has his party in “the Distracted Globe, shortened to ”the Globe". No Shakespeare involved here, since he’s not from the 80s; instead, it’s a zero-gravity dance club. Except you can swim and dance in zero gravity, because this book for nerds didn’t think to research its physics properly. I mean, what are the odds that a bunch of nerds would criticize the science of your science fiction book, right?
And it’s also a PvP zone. I guess Ogden’s party runs on the honor system and hopes that no one is going to attack anyone here.
The book spends a massive paragraph describing Wade’s car to us. It’s a modified DeLorean crammed with references to other sci-fi movies, because apparently, the book doesn’t understand class. And yes, I’m forced to point out that Cline has a very real version of this car:
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Which…okay, not the worst thing ever, I guess, but don’t you think it’s a little on the nose?
After this (and another paragraph telling us how everyone will want to steal his car, but it doesn’t matter, because he has a miniaturizing spell and keeps the car on his person, because MMORPGs letting you put your mounts in your inventory is not a concept that the author has heard of), it’s on to the party. In which Artemis and Wade name-drop a bunch of songs, and…dance. Kind of.
Her avatar lost its human form and dissolved into a pulsing amorphous blob that changed its size and color in synch with the music. I selected the mirror partner option on my dance software and began to do the same. My avatar’s limbs and torso began to flow and spin like taffy, encircling Art3mis, while strange color patterns flowed and shifted across my skin.
Is this someone’s kink? I’m extremely confused that this is the imagery you chose to go for, especially when the book tells us everyone else on the (spherical, zero-gravity) dance floor starts following suit and dancing as colored blobs.
After this, it’s time for the cliché slow dance, and Wade tells Artemis he’s in love with her.
“You aren’t in love with me, Z,” she said. “You don’t even know me.” […] “You only see what I want you to see.” She placed a hand on her chest. “This isn’t my real body, Wade. Or my real face.” “I don’t care! I’m in love with your mind—with the person you are. I couldn’t care less about the packaging.” “You’re just saying that,” she said. There was an unsteadiness in her voice. “Trust me. If I ever let you see me in person, you would be repulsed.”
Such foreshadowing. As for his statement…see my earlier rant about his transphobic statement.
Once again, Artemis keeps telling him no, Wade keeps insisting, and she decides they have to stop hanging out.
“Are you breaking up with me?” “No, Z,” she said firmly. “I am not breaking up with you. That would be impossible, because we are not together.” There was suddenly venom in her voice. “We’ve never even met!”
She’s right, of course. But before the book can linger on that detail for too long, let’s have the Sixers randomly attack the club! Which they do by sending troops inside, even though we established the game has nukes already and they could just make the whole place explode without wasting any avatars. Whatever. Fight scene time.
Then I realized that most of the Sixers’ incoming fire seemed to be directed at me and Art3mis. They were here to kill the two of us. […] I knew my own recklessness had brought them down on us. I cursed myself for being so foolish.
…Are you implying Artemis wouldn’t have been a valuable enough target? No, of course it’s all about you. Dick.
This scene, by the way, goes nowhere. It’s devoid of tension. Mostly because, before anything really major can happen, Ogden reveals that he apparently has god mode turned on, and fries all the Sixers in the club. Thus also making the attack entirely pointless. Well, unless Ogden does turn out to be the main villain and this is a showcase of the threat he is. Which I’m still somewhat convinced he might be. Or should be.
But anyway, when the dust settles, Artemis is gone, and Wade is sad, I guess. Boo hoo. Whatever shall he do, the object of his obsession is gone.
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The 2020 Twenty — Bill Weld
This is IJR’s third segment of The 2020 Twenty. We’re asking every 2020 presidential candidate 20 questions on their plans, policies, outlook, and background as well as some lighter ones to help our readers get to know the people and their personalities as they compete to run the country.
There are several Republicans who have criticized President Donald Trump’s rhetoric, but former Massachusetts Gov. Bill Weld is the only candidate trying to stop the president from the same side of the aisle.
The 2020 election will not be the first time Weld’s name will appear on a ballot against Trump. In 2016, he ran on the Libertarian Party ticket as former New Mexico Gov. Gary Johnson’s vice presidential pick.
While Weld is attempting to be on the top of the ticket this time, he’ll carry many of his libertarian tendencies with him, striking a policy contrast with the president on several issues, including abortion, marijuana, and trade. As Weld told IJR, he hopes the Republican Party is ready to trade in Trump’s “simplistic policies” for a rebirth of fiscal conservatism. 
1. As president, what would be your day one, number one priority?
Bill Weld: I would file legislation to cut spending. I think the president and Congress have not shown any interest in being an economic conservative, and that would be a marker I would want to throw down on day one.
2. You were named the most fiscally conservative governor in the U.S. when you served the people of Massachusetts. For the first time in history, the national debt now tops $22 trillion. How would you address this?
Well, I would do a zero-based review of the entire budget. That’s what we did at the state level, and you have to, instead of assuming that the appropriation for next year’s is going to be last year’s plus 5 percent — which is what they assume in Washington — you analyze it to make sure every appropriation stands on its own footing and is justified by the results of that program or item last year.
For example, if it was a very successful preventive health measure that saved a lot of money and improved health outcomes, you might multiply it by five because it did great work, great outputs. But if it was just a useless piece of bureaucracy based on some long-forgotten relationship with a senator whose nephew was the initial executive director, you might just zero that out. And that’s how you get to cut spending.
3. You worked in the House during the Watergate investigations and served with the U.S. attorney general later in your career. Several 2020 Democrats believe Trump should be impeached following the findings of the Mueller report. Do you agree?
I think that the Mueller report made out 10 pretty clear examples of obstruction of justice. You may have noticed that over 1,000 former federal prosecutors, myself included, signed a letter stating that the president was clearly guilty of obstruction of justice based on Volume II of the Mueller report, and it wasn’t even a close case.
Given that, I think it’s time — maybe even past time — to launch an inquiry into whether impeachable conduct has occurred. That’s not the same as saying the House should take a vote tomorrow. The investigation by the House Judiciary Committee into President [Richard] Nixon took 10 months. You know, that would bring us to April of next year. And even then, you don’t get a vote immediately in the Senate. The House appoints managers to conduct a trial in the Senate, so those proceedings likely would not even be over before the 2020 election.
However, to do absolutely nothing in the face of the conduct chronicled in the Mueller report seems, to me, an abdication of Congress’ role.
Bill Weld/Facebook
4. If you could get a drink with any previous president, who would it be?
Oh, my goodness, I guess Teddy Roosevelt, my former great-grandfather-in-law. His strenuous life is worth sampling over a glass of something. [Weld married Susan Roosevelt Weld in 1975. The two divorced in 2002. The governor later got remarried to writer Leslie Marshall Weld.]
5. While serving as governor, you completed 16 official trade missions, including trips to Asia and Latin America. How would you work to secure fair and free trade with our current partners?
I’m a free trader. And I believe that the United States always benefits from free trade. Among other things, our workers have, by far, the highest productivity of any country in the world. Even China is not close. So that means, by definition, we’re going to get the lion’s share of the high-wage jobs that come out of free trade. Jobs do change hands when countries engage in trade with one another. Some low-wage jobs go to the low-wage jurisdiction and vice versa, but the United States is always going to be a winner.
I do not share Mr. Trump’s view, which is for tariffs to be the first reaction. That was tried in the 1930s — the Smoot-Hawley tariffs — and it greatly exacerbated the depression of the 1930s. So I fundamentally disagree with the president on his approach to trade and tariffs, so I would go back to having free trade with everybody, and I certainly would want to have friendly relations with our military allies as opposed to insulting them and isolating them and favoring the autocratic countries and dictatorships such as Russia, North Korea, and the Philippines, and now Hungary, as Mr. Trump does.
     Do you support any level of protectionism?
Well, I certainly think it’s the correct thing to do to take a hard line with China, as Mr. Trump is doing. I had high hopes for [Chinese President] Xi Jinping when he came into office that he might turn his country in the direction of a market economy, but after some good rhetoric at the outset, he’s newly reauthorized the state-owned enterprises to compete globally on the basis of huge subsidies from the government of China. That’s not fair trade, so I do think taking a tough line with China is the right thing to do.
6. You are a pro-choice Republican and have condemned the abortion restrictions in states like Georgia and Alabama.
The new anti-abortion laws recently passed in several states are deeply disturbing as they clearly undermine the rights and safety of women. The new laws actively promote a sinister culture of fear, persecution, stigmatization, secrecy and hiding. 2/4
— Gov. Bill Weld (@GovBillWeld) May 31, 2019
Do you believe there should be any government limits placed abortion in the U.S.?
Sure. I’m not for third-trimester abortions. No, I’m happy with Roe v. Wade. That essentially codifies the rule in common law. I just don’t think we should depart from that. To me, these new laws really involve the question of gender equality. If you say no abortions after six weeks and no exceptions for rape or incest — which several of those laws do — you know, at six weeks, many women will not know they’re pregnant, so that’s just saying “tough luck” if you get raped. You’ve got to carry the child to term for nine months. That’s just incorporating the view of women as carriers, what has sometimes been called the chattel theory of women. That cuts deeper.
7. What is a hidden talent that you have?
I can say the alphabet backward. It’s a good parlor trick, well hidden. It’s never been done.
8. Pro-gun groups like the NRA have criticized your support for gun control in the past. What measures would you take to cut gun violence in the U.S.?
I don’t think we want to focus on gun ownership. I do think that the 300 million rifles in private hands, lawfully acquired, constitutes a bulwark against a government overreaching. The real reason for the Second Amendment in the Bill of Rights, in my judgment, is not so people can go hunting. It’s really so people will have the guns in self-defense.
All guns are dangerous. It’s not just a rifle with a tripod under it. All guns are dangerous, and to address the school shootings and terrible mass murders, one obvious thing is to do everything possible to keep firearms — of any sort — out of the hands of people who are unstable and have any history of mental illness.
When I got my first shotgun, I had to prove that I had taken a hunter’s safety course. I don’t think that’s any longer the case, but I think it was a good thing. In my case, it made me very careful about guns my whole life. So I have no quarrel with that sort of thing. But that’s really aiming at gun safety, not gun ownership. So I would be focusing on gun safety rather than gun ownership.  
9. You have criticized Republicans for being silent on issues for which you believe Trump should be condemned.
"Republicans in Washington have become the silence of the lambs when it comes to Trump,” Weld said. “Hopefully we can show at least a few people that we’re not all a bunch of lambs.” #Weld2020 #Fitn #nhpolitics #iapolitics https://t.co/PVHQC12I6q
— Gov. Bill Weld (@GovBillWeld) April 24, 2019
How are you planning on convincing other Republicans to speak out against the president?
I’ll continue to speak out when I see something that I think is off. I think the conduct in the Mueller report was definitely off. I think the president’s evident preference for dictators and autocratic forms of government, as opposed to our constitutional democracy, is very troubling. So whether or not Republicans in Congress are persuaded, I’m going to continue to speak my mind.
10. What is your favorite show to binge watch?
“House of Cards.”
11. What role do you believe the government plays in addressing climate change?
I think we need to take steps to reduce CO2 emissions by 2030 and 2050. I think we should be cooperative with other countries. I think we should rejoin the Paris accord. I think we want to look at our energy mix. I agree with those who say that we want the most possible wind and solar power. In the Northeast United States, of course, we have Canadian hydro as well.
I personally think that we need more nuclear power than we have now. Perhaps 25 percent of the base in our electric grid. The sharpest drop in CO2 emissions ever recorded is when France moved to small nuclear plants in approximately the 1980s. And the small nukes now make up 75 percent of the power in France’s grid. They’ve never had an accident, and their CO2 record is pristine as a result. So I think we should do that as well. That goes directly at climate change because it goes directly at CO2 emissions. There are none from nuclear power.
Mark Kauzlarich/Reuters
12. Do you support recreational marijuana legalization?
Well, I think it’s a states’ rights issue. You know, if Alabama, for example, did not want to have legal recreational marijuana, that’s fine. I think it should be state-by-state. I just don’t think the federal government should mandate one-size-fits-all, either negative or positive.
And, by the way, that’s the position that candidate Trump took in 2016, that legal recreation should be a states’ rights issue. And I’d like to see him return to that position.
13. Republicans failed to fully repeal the Affordable Care Act (ACA) in 2017 and haven’t done much to address the issue since. What is your plan to address health care in the U.S.?
I think we need less government in the health care system. I think individuals should have their own tax-advantaged health savings accounts so that they can save up for the amount of protection that they wanted.
One problem with the Affordable Care Act is that it mandates that everybody have a Cadillac plan, and that makes it much more expensive. And many people don’t want a Cadillac plan. They’re comfortable with a Chevy. It’s just like buying insurance. Some people want a high deductible to cut the upfront cost of insurance. Other people can’t afford to do that because they can’t expose themselves to any risk, so they want no deductible, which makes it more expensive. But that’s the individual choice. And individuals don’t get that much choice under the ACA, it’s all mandated by the government.
And a lot of the government mandates make no sense. Why should it be illegal to buy health insurance across state lines? Why should it be illegal to buy pharmaceuticals from another country, such as Canada? Those are just incorporations of protectionism and the guild mentality of centuries past and don’t really make modern-day sense. So I’d do away with them. Again, more power to the individual.
14. What is your favorite vacation destination?
The Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. We have a fishing camp up there.
15. You’ve said you have a “very different view of immigrants” than President Trump.
"I have a very different view of immigrants than Mr. Trump does…he wants to stir up racial tensions…the stakes are very, very high here." @UNHLaw #FITN #2020 #NHPolitics
— Gov. Bill Weld (@GovBillWeld) May 23, 2019
What steps do you believe should be taken to improve the immigration process in the U.S.?
Well, I think we should have more work visas, not less. Enforce them but have them available. We should have a guest worker program similar to Canada’s where people come and work for four months of the agricultural season or the construction season. That’s what people do in the western part of the United States. And then they go home because they don’t want to live in the United States. They just want to make enough money to send remittances to their families, and then they go home.
And I think the whole notion that the 11 million people who have overstayed their visas — so-called undocumented immigrants — a lot of those people just overstayed their visa. And to say all of them automatically have to get citizenship, that’s just crazy. I think that’s a straw man that those who want to inveigh against immigrants in general throw up. It’s a false issue. I don’t think we need to even consider that.  
     Do you think a wall is necessary for a secure border?
No, not really. I mean, my best understanding is that the experts down there on the southern border say what you really need is more people, more agents, and more drones, which can do a lot of the sighting that a wall by itself doesn’t do. We already have plenty of wall down there, you know, so it’s just a question of the last mile or whatever it is that Mr. Trump is fixated on.
As a matter of fact, that big crisis about the national emergency powers, that was about a tiny amount of money, so that wall couldn’t have been very long. It’s just symbolic, and Mr. Trump likes to have these simplistic policies like “hoax“ for climate change and “wall” for immigrants. He made his first priority when he came into office, and even during the campaign, to try to make people nervous, even hateful, about any people from other countries. It’s sowing division and fear, which he thinks helps him politically. I find it a not very appealing approach to government.
16. The RNC and Chairwoman Ronna McDaniel haven’t exactly given you a warm welcome to the race.
Today at #CPAC, @GOPChairwoman was asked about a @GOP primary to @realDonaldTrump . In a stunning reversal of past party practice of honoring neutrality in primaries, she declared her endorsement of Donald Trump, asking why any Republican would run against the President. pic.twitter.com/LPYdR9ZhO5
— Gov. Bill Weld (@GovBillWeld) March 1, 2019
Do you think the Republican Party should be doing more to support ideological diversity?
You know, I don’t expect to be welcomed by the Trump organization. People say to me: How are you going to make inroads with the Republican state committees? Well, I’m not because they’re the Trump organization in each state. I’m really not going to try to charm them because that’s not going to happen. I’m going to try to persuade more people to vote in the Republican primaries and to enlarge the electorate so that more young voters vote, so that more suburban women vote, and that would be my path to victory. Not suddenly persuading the Republican state committees to change their mind.
17. What is your favorite movie?
I like the sort of soft sci-fi like “Men in Black,” there’s a movie called “[The Adventures of] Buckaroo Banzai [Across] the 8th Dimension.” Another one called “Repo Man.” I see a new “MIB” is coming out. I can’t wait to see that.
18. Right now, the U.S. is facing conflict in Iran, China is stealing our intellectual property (IP), Russia meddles in our elections, and North Korea continues to toy around with rockets. What do you see as the biggest foreign policy threat facing the United States today?
I belong to a group of former world leaders [the InterAction Council], and they conclude that the biggest threat to the world is the risk of nuclear proliferation. So I would be spending a lot of time on North Korea, which has a rather unsteady finger on the trigger. And I would enlist the help of China in addressing issues on the Korean Peninsula. So that would probably be number one. The Russians interfering in everybody’s elections, particularly ours, is outrageous. That would be number two.
China stealing our IP is something I’ve been making noise about for a long time, and I just think we have to tell them in the trade negotiations that this theft of our intellectual property has to stop. That’s a condition of trade concessions in other areas, if you will. You know, unless they do that, no one is going to want to invest in China anymore, foreign investors, and it’s going to be very self-defeating for China. And I think we ought to be able to persuade them of that.
Bill Weld/Facebook
19. The next president would likely fill two Supreme Court seats. Would your picks differ from the types of justices chosen by Trump?
Well, I think both of his are good. And I wouldn’t confine myself to litmus tests. I probably wouldn’t confine myself to justices proposed by a single group, as Mr. Trump has done. But I thought [Justice Neil] Gorsuch, in particular, is a very bright, appealing judge. I would have supported both of the choices.
20. What is your favorite kind of music to listen to on the campaign trail?
I like country-rock. You know, the old-school Jesse Winchester. I love K.D. Lang of modern singers. I have pretty Catholic tastes in music. Both my wife and my son have a playlist of over 2,000 items, so we listen a lot at home and in the car.
Editor’s note: The preceding interview has been edited for ease of reading.
from IJR http://bit.ly/2MVcbje via IFTTT
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bdfanfic · 6 years
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You Only Live 18 Times - #10
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Wears-Only-Ropes was seething. After a short orientation with some other new argonian crew members, the Dominion had completed it’s trip from the mainland back to it’s island cove that functioned as it’s home base. It had surfaced with the morning sun and she stepped out of the top hatch with the others, then walked along the back of the ship to where long plank had been lowered from a dock.  From there she was given another orientation and assigned to Food Prep, which wasn’t even a shipboard duty.
She’d watched from an open mess hut as altmer and argonians came and went from between the ship to a stone building that served as the ship’s headquarters. All the while she was skinning vegetables and cutting meat.  She knew that what she really should do was to bide her time and learn more about the ship before she struck.
But she couldn't do it. She couldn’t wait while the souls of her dead friends were screaming in her mind. Instead, she waited for the earliest opportunity when she planned to sneak aboard and do all the damage she could. If she could sink the thing, that would be best.
During her orientation she’d learned of the color-coded tags the argonians wore around their necks, indicating their duties. She tore her brown tag off.
“Recruit? What are you doing? Put that tag back on!” shouted her superior in the hut, a female certainly younger than herself.
Reluctantly she tied it back around her neck. It felt like a stone. “Dammit, I should be on the ship!”
“Relax. You’ll get your chance. But there’s a lot to learn before you can do much good aboard the ship. In the meantime the mess hut’s as good a job as any you’re likely to get while they teach you.”
“But I already proved I know as much about ships as any argonian!”
“Not this ship I bet! Now get back to work. Lunch will be soon and we’ve got a lot of cooking to do before then.”
She went back to work, but she would keep a close eye out for any chance.
It came in the early afternoon. An odd alarm began to sound, and the altmer gathered most of the argonians and led them out of the cove. Apparently some sort of security ward had been breached.  She watched as the majority of the workers ran out to find the menace, and she noticed there was no one standing guard at the ship.
She took some sauce that was at least approximately the color of the red engineering tags and smeared it over her own tag when her superior had left for a few minutes. Then she walked purposefully down the dock as if she had every right to be there. She climbed down into the ship without a clue what she was going to do. She then took off her tag - at close range it wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny anyway.
She passed some argonians, proceeding towards the back of the ship where she knew the propulsion system must be. If there were anything explosive or truly damaging on the ship, that would be the most likely place.
“Stop!” said an altmer voice in Common. “You, female! Where’s your tag?”
She turned around with a confused look on her face and mimicked feeling for it.  “Sorry, it must have fell off somewhere.”
“Who’s your boss?”
“I’m in engineering,” she said. She knew the altmer were termed the bosses here, but she didn’t know them by name yet.
The altmer’s eyes narrowed. “Who is your BOSS?” he asked again, hands raising and a blue glow beginning to issue from them.
She was out of time. If she was going to do any good down here at all, it had to be now. She turned and raced through the twin hallways that ran the length of the ship, switching from one to the other, and dropped down the first hatchway to the lower level she came to, not looking back.
Red lights began to flash and a klaxon sounded. She began turning every dial and every valve she could find randomly, but then running on as the altmer and some other argonians came after her. She knew she was approaching a dead end, but maybe she could find something important she could break before she got there.
She saw another argonian ahead, apparently mending a pipe and she grabbed for a large wrench in his back pocket.
For a moment he looked as confused as most of the other crew she’d passed had been, but this one was sharper than most. As she grabbed for the wrench, he spun around and wrapped his tail around her legs, sending her to the floor. She scrambled to get back to her feet, but he was on top of her before she could get leverage. But Wears-Only-Ropes was sea-hardened and desperate. She bit the tail, hard, and heard the argonian scream. She was up in a second, continuing her headlong race to the back of the ship when the spell hit.
As her feet left the ground in the ball of force that now held her, another altmer came up behind he first and she felt the ball disappear as she crashed back to the floor. Another spell hit her instantly, then all went black.
********************************
Ra’Jirra awoke at first light, and left Dar’Amon sleeping while she completed her morning ritual, though the salt water was a rude awakening as she scrubbed her teeth. The Alfiq was still sleeping so she changed back into her bikini. She was adjusting the straps when she noticed he was watching her.
“Good morning, you perv.”
The cat smiled guiltily then yawned,“Good morning to you too.”
“Think of any plan overnight?” she asked as she began to drag the CATv3 back towards the water, which was blessedly closer with the tide.
“Afraid not. You?”
“Nope. But we haven’t much time. The Hammerfell ship will be leaving tomorrow and could well be here tomorrow night. We’ve got to try something!”
Dar’Amon jumped atop the CATv3 as a wave came up, avoiding getting wet.
She pulled the craft deeper into the water before she got aboard and turned the switch. It came to life and began sputtering as she let it idle.
“I’m going to try circling the island from a long way out. Hopefully we can find where it’s at.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“Okay, hold on!”
Dar’Amon tucked himself firmly between her legs and she started off quickly, heading for the island they’d spotted earlier.
She opened it up and they crossed the distance quickly, but remained far enough out to sea that they should be little more than a speck in the ocean to any spying eyes. She backed the speed down and turned to circle counter-clockwise.
“See anything?”
“Nothing yet,” Dar’Amon answered.
They continued around the island at roughly the same distance when they rounded a reef. Inside was a cove that was unmistakable even if not for the low form of the ship they saw near a pier. Figures were moving back and forth. Ra’Jirra turned the craft around and retreated back the way they’d come.
“We need to hide the CAT,” she said, and Dar’Amon spotted a low shelf of rock jutting out over the water.
“What about underneath that shelf? Should be completely out of sight from the island.”
She nodded and steered the craft towards it, finally stepping off into thigh-high water where she moored it to some other rocks.
“Tide?” she asked Dar’Amon.
“It’s pretty well high tide now. It will have nowhere to go but down to the level you’re standing on, if you’re worried about it getting crushed. Just leave enough slack that it can go up and down and it should be fine.”
She nodded and tied it off, before taking Dar’Amon and wading out from under the shelf. She came out into the sun carefully, but she could see no one around.
“I think we should split up, Raj,” he said as she set him back onto the beach.
The jungle here was dense, but lacked the sulphurous smell of Argonia and she felt it was probably less lethal than the mainland.
“Yeah. You’re my secret weapon, Dar. They’re altmer so they’re bound to have wards up.”
“Probably not for my size though. I could go in and scout first.”
Ra’Jirra shook her head. “No need. We know where our target is. I’ll climb up around the cove and come at it from the other side. Give me an hour to get around, and then come in from the other side.”
“Not sure what I can do really, but I’ll do what I can,” he said and she headed towards the jungle.”
The tangle of plants and vines she had to work her way through told her she had been wise to stay in her close-fitting bikini rather than the loose khaki outfit she had kept in her backpack, though a run-in with a bramble bush had left it somewhat tattered by the time she made it to the far side of the cove. She approached carefully, trying to stay near brush or trees where perhaps a ward spell wouldn’t notice her.
She was in sight of the ship and the out-buildings when she felt a tingle and a klaxon began to blare.
“Damn. Well, it was bound to happen,” she thought. She considered her options, and put the gun back into the backpack which she stuffed under some brush. She certainly did not blend in here, with her yellow fur and white tattered bikini. She would be caught, undoubtedly. But as Geeus had said, the argonians were merely working for the altmer. Killing them would simply be wrong if she didn’t have to.
She saw a large contingent of argonians led by a few altmer coming her way from her right. In front was the dock and the ship. She began to run, her knife out. Those searching for her apparently didn’t see her as she left the jungle and ran towards the dock, but a large argonian blocked her path.
She slashed at it with her knife, hoping to scare it out of her way, but it didn’t budge. Instead it ran right at her and she dodged to the left, feeling a talon snag her top. Her inertia left no alternative. The bikini top snapped and she felt her right breast freed from the constraint.
“Well, modesty be damned, I’ve got a job to do,” she said to herself as she piled headlong into another argonian standing on the ramp to the ship. The argonian fell to the side into the water but Ra’Jirra continued on, fairly leaping down into the doorway.  
The interior of the ship was unfamiliar to her, but there was a clamor coming from the stern of the ship, so she headed towards the bow.  She saw only one argonian, a female who looked stunned to see a khajiit.
“Sorry snakeskin,” she said as she brought the hilt of the knife down hard just behind the base of the Argonian’s head.
She hoped she had applied the right amount of force and hadn’t killed her, but there was a fine line between the two. Plus, if she accomplished what she hoped to, it would make no difference.
She entered a room that narrowed from front to back and she knew she was near the nose of the ship. Many oddly shaped canisters lined the walls with two tubes projecting out towards her. The canisters had a profile that reminded her of the bullets for her gun, and the flat end of them bore the unmistakable glow of a soul gem.
There was magic here, but it didn’t take her long to realize what she was looking at. This was the weapon that had destroyed the ships. These things were some sort of projectile bomb.  The logical way to destroy the ship was here. If she could get one of these things to explode, they would doubtless destroy the others as well. The combined explosion would be catastrophic. Of course, she’d be in the middle of it.
She considered her death for a moment. She heard voices approaching, and stopped thinking about it. She unstrapped one of the canisters from the wall and picked it up. It was surprisingly light.
Two argonians approached her, one baring a wicked knife that dwarfed her own. She noticed the other one was rubbing the back of her neck. She felt a little good about that, though if what she planned would work, she would be gone in a moment along with everyone else on this ship.
“Back,” she said, lifting the canister over her head. “Or I’ll throw this thing with enough force to blow us all to the afterlife.” She had just a little hope that she could get the argonians off the ship before she tried it.
The argonian hesitated. Then an altmer came up and she knew she was out of time.
“IDIOT!” the altmer said, trying to get past the two argonians. “She can’t…”
And then Ra’Jirra threw the canister as hard as she could at another against the far wall.
It made quite a loud noise, but no explosion came.
“Ha!” the altmer said, though she had seen an instant of panic on his face. Then another argonian came up behind him as the first two backed away.
“Get her Pak-sha, before she does any real damage.”
The new argonian was large. Very large. She dropped her knife and held her hands up, but it didn’t stop him from coming. He grabbed her roughly and dragged her back out of the ship backwards, with an arm like iron wrapped around her middle. She felt like a sack of potatoes with a tail.
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