#plus the new resident needs a two person transfer...right when I was supposed to be giving a bath

[princesswithabraidedcrown]

While part of me is kinda amused that the housekeeper crossed out taking their trash to the dumpster from their contract...the other part of me is boiling with rage about how nobody besides the PM shift, of which I belong, takes trash to the dumpsters. Yes, some AM workers will empty the trash on the weekends, because that has been procedure since the beginning of the building, but would it kill them to notice that three giant trash barrels were at least 3/4 of the way full?

#the blogger is a home health aide #work problems #yeah part of me is amused by the housekeeper #the other part of me wants to throttle them #it doesn’t help that due to families realizing that they can take care of their mildly incapacitated elders at home #all of our newer residents have more severe health concerns #and some mad genius plunked two tub baths on the same shift for people that have difficulty moving quickly #plus the new resident needs a two person transfer...right when I was supposed to be giving a bath #and then the brain trusts that are the powers that be moved a resident down to memory care #without thinking to grab all the safety equipment #so this resident that was a grumbling one assist upstairs had to be a s #slightly difficult two assist downstairs #when the only staff on the unit was a new hire that um could be politely called a ditz #and a longer hire that also could be described as a ditz #i got to play the role of grizzled elder that will gladly show the younguns how to do so #something but I was not messing around #yes I will happily go check on the resident whose call button has been going off for like half an hour #and I will manage to metaphorically argue with the transfer situation #so that the resident stands up safely but I will be calling and letting the nurse know what an absolute crapshow this room movement is #somebody should have let the room pickers know that because of the resident’s arm weakness #they really should use a different room if you want to not break your back toileting the resident #or possibly the aides need to be better at communicating these things to the nurses #cause my working knowledge of the residents is much more workable than what is in the chart #but the last hour or 45 minutes of the shift was a mild disaster

[five-rivers]

Cold Case

So, this is a continuation of Interview With a Ghost, my corpse AU.  Sort of.  Lots of outsider perspective.  

But, I’m too lazy to hunt down the tumblr links.  So.  Here’s the AO3 link to the series.  

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McGee braced himself before getting out of his car and walking into the precinct.  He’d heard all the jokes before, all the mindless digs at his name, and he liked to think that he’d grown a thick skin in response, but part of him still flinched every time.  

Plus, there was a reason he’d been sent to Amity Park.  That reason being the incredibly suspicious crime rate.  That is, the just shy of nonexistent crime rate.  Also, the billionaire mayor that had popped up out of nowhere.  And the high road repair and park maintenance bills.  

Oh, yeah, and the giant murder investigation that had just.  Disappeared.

The county wanted answers.  So, they sent McGee.  Of course, they didn’t tell the Amity Park Police Department that.  As far as they knew, he was just a transfer. Someone being shifted from one department to another.  

So, yeah.  Bracing.  Just like the wind.  Ouch, it was cold.  McGee wrapped his coat more closely around himself and began jogging through the otherwise deserted parking garage.  

The… underground parking garage.  Wind?  

McGee stopped and turned in place, trying to see where the breeze could have possibly come from.  There weren’t exactly any windows down here.  

Feeling more cautious, but not knowing why, McGee made his way more slowly to the elevator door and hit the call button.  The doors opened immediately.  Inside, a speaker tried to play music, but what came out of it was mostly ear-tearing static.  

Well.  If APPD was getting paid off by a mob or the town was skimming from road funds, they certainly weren’t using their ill-gotten gains on the elevators.  

When the doors opened, McGee was hit with a blast of warm air and Christmas music.  He kept his face carefully blank.  It had only just become December, and the police station was… it was… Well. McGee would have to call it ‘decked out,’ no matter how much he abhorred the phrase.  

… Why were there so many menorahs?

“Hey, are you John McGee?”

“Yes, that’s me,” said McGee, turning to face a remarkably plain man in a button-down shirt and a pullover sweater.  

The man had a pair of novelty felt antlers on his head.  They were decorated with bells.  How unprofessional.

“I’m Collins.  We’ll probably be working together at some point.  Same department.”

“Homicide?”

Collins raised his eyebrows.  “I don’t know what you were told, but we don’t have enough homicides to warrant a dedicated homicide department.  We get a one or two mysterious deaths every month, but it always turns out to be, like, anaphylaxis or something.”  He brought a mug to his lips and sipped slowly.  “Mostly we do vice, theft, fraud, and missing persons. Not much of that last one, either. Oh, we had an arson one time.  But it turned out it wasn’t really arson. Anyway, let’s get you checked in, and hopefully Patterson will be here by the time Captain Jones is done with you.”

“Patterson?”

“My partner.  You know, you being here gives us an odd number of detectives.  That’s going to be weird.”  He sipped from his mug again.  “Maybe we’ll promote someone.  Not Cameron Daily, though.”  Collins stared into the middle distance.  “No. Not Cameron Daily.  Love that man. He’s got to stay in tech support.”

“The captain?” prompted McGee.  

“Hah.  Yeah. You have to brave the secretaries, first.”  Collins patted McGee on the shoulder, and McGee suppressed the impulse to shake him off. “Good luck.  At least this is going to be a quiet month, right?”

.

McGee spent what was probably far too much time pondering what Collins had meant by ‘it’s going to be a quiet month.’  Did the APPD’s arrangement with the local criminals (because there had to be an arrangement) include forewarning concerning the crimes they did deign to investigate?  Or did they have statistics that indicated December was a low-crime time for Amity Park?

Orientation was highly typical, as far as these things went.  The only oddity were the advertisements and promotional pictures for the local tourist trap tapped up all over half the captain’s office.  Was the man a fan?  Did he believe in that ghost nonsense?  Was it some kind of bizarre joke?

At least the Christmas plague hadn’t made it this far.

“Right, now that we’ve got that part out of the way, let’s move on.  We normally like an even number of detectives, but the county moved you over so fast we couldn’t get you a partner, and no one is retiring.”  Jones rolled his shoulders and fixed McGee with a very sharp gaze.  “Do you know why the county was so… insistent with your transfer?”

Ah.  So, the captain was suspicious.  Time to put that backstory to good use.  

“Honestly, sir, I embarrassed someone, and I think they just spun the wheel on how to get rid of me.”

“Mhm.  See, usually when they do that, they pick from departments that actually put in requests for extra personnel.  We haven’t.”

“I think the main concern was just to keep me away.”

“I see.”  The level of suspicion in the man’s eyes did not change.  “You’re going to be with Patterson and Collins until you get your feet under you and we decide what to do about the partner situation. If the county will even let us out another detective on payroll.  Consider yourself on probation as far as whatever it is you’re doing with the county. Don’t put my detectives in danger.”

“Sir—”

“Whatever excuse you have, I don’t want to hear it. Go talk to Collins.  I know you met him.  Patterson probably isn’t here yet.”

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Collins stood next to a woman in a coat with a long dark braid.  Both of their backs were to McGee.  He could see that they were talking to one another, making tight little gestures with their hands near their chests.  All the other occupants of the room stared at them without a modicum of shame.  

“—until he sees his first fight?  We’re supposed to babysit him until January?  We won’t be able to talk about anything!”

“Well, if you’d been on time, maybe we could have convinced the captain not to—”

Someone behind McGee cleared their throat. Loudly.  Collins and the woman turned, sheepishly.  

“Oh.  McGee. McGee, this is Patterson. Patterson, this is McGee.  You’ll be working with us, apparently.”

“Hopefully, I’ll be able to get out of your hair before too long,” said McGee.

“Don’t count on it.  How long have you been in town?” asked Patterson.  

“Only since yesterday.  Why?”

“We’re showing you around,” said Patterson, snatching the antlers from Collins’s head.  

“Consider it your last bit of freedom before you’re condemned to paperwork,” said Collins.  

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Amity Park was odd, McGee decided.  

It wasn’t just the clashing but equally enthusiastic Halloween and Christmas decorations, the omnipresent construction, and the worrying number of holes in the road (really, there was no way the road repair budget was actually getting used on the roads).  There was something else.  Something McGee couldn’t put his finger on.  Something—

He did a double-take.  Were those two cosplaying the Ghostbusters?  Why?

How seriously did these people take their tourist trap nonsense?

“What are Jack and Maddie doing out?” asked Patterson.

“I don’t know,” said Collins.  He tilted his head to one side and pulled into a nearby convenience store parking lot.  “You’d think they’d be told; December is a quiet month.”

“Mhm.  Maybe they didn’t believe it?”

“They can be stubborn sometimes,” mused Collins. “But it would be nice if there was some action.”  He pulled the parking brake.  “You want to introduce McGee to the local celebrities?”

A look of indescribable disgust appeared on Patterson’s face.  “Why don’t you introduce them?”

“I did that last time.”

“No, you didn’t.  You rang their doorbell and then ran like the coward you are.”

Collins, without any hint of repentance, shrugged. “Wouldn’t you do the same?”

“This is different,” she protested.  “This isn’t just any new resident.  This is a coworker.  A coworker who isn’t going to see that kind of action for a whole month.”

“Action?” asked McGee.  This felt perilously close to what he’d been tasked to find out.  

“You’ll find out in a month,” said Collins. “Assuming you last that long.”

McGee frowned, and decided to take another risk and prompt the pair further.  “I know you have a low crime rate here,” he said, “but I’m sure there will be something for us to investigate before the end of the month.”

“Well, yeah,” said Collins.  “We don’t get paid for doing nothing.”

There was a sharp rap on the window, and everyone jumped.  God. It was just some kid.  McGee put a hand over his heart and tried not to think too hard about the time he had almost been killed in his car by a dirty cop and his gangster friends.

Collins rolled the window down, letting in a gust of frigid wind.  

“Hi, detectives!” chirped the teen.  “I heard you got a new guy!”

Oh.  That was interesting.  Was the local gang using children as in-betweens?

“Yep,” said Patterson.  “This is McGee.  McGee, this is Danny, the only sane Fenton.”

Danny tipped his head to the side and squinted. “I think that title needs to go to Jazz.”

“Danny, I hate to break it to you, but your sister is a lunatic,” said Patterson, completely serious.  

“Come on, you’re just saying that,” said Danny, staring openly at McGee.  

Did this kid blink?

“Anyway, I’ve introduced McGee to one Fenton, you get to do the others,” said Patterson, poking Collins in the ribs.

“Danny doesn’t count,” protested Collins, squirming. “He’s sane, like you said.”

“You’ll have to be fast.  Mom and Dad are like three blocks down the street chasing…”  He trailed off.  “Well, they think they’re chasing something, anyway.  Transient noise on their latest EMF reader.”  He rolled his eyes and finally blinked.  

“Think they might actually get anything?” asked Patterson.

“Nothing with a mind,” said Danny.  “Might have to play animal control soon, though.”  There was a loud crash and a squeal of rubber, followed by distant but still deafening engine noises.  Danny winced.  “Can you please give them a fine for driving around in that thing?”

“They have a special permit,” said Collins, shrugging.  “Straight from the mayor.  Nothing we can do.”

“I will bribe you to do something.”

McGee choked.

“With what?” asked Collins.  “You’re a penniless middle schooler.”

“Excuse you,” said Danny, crossing his arms. “You know I’m in high school.”

There was another crash.  

“Are you sure they haven’t found anything?” asked Patterson, leaning forward.  

“Absolutely positive,” said Danny.  He sighed.  “I should probably go, though.”

“Okay, have fun, Danny!”

“Don’t think you’re getting out of introductions, Patterson,” grumbled Collins.  

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“Alright,” said Collins, opening a narrow door and turning on the buzzing yellow light within.  “Your kingdom awaits!”  He gestured grandly, disrupting clouds of dust.  “You’ll be entering old cases into the system.  Did Cameron Daily show you how?”

McGee’s lips twisted at the memory of the computer tech.  “Yes,” he said.  

“Yeah, Cameron gets that reaction,” said Collins, thumping McGee on the back.  “If it makes you feel better, he’s usually in charge of keeping track of the cults. Did he tell you about the VHS evidence?”

“The cults?”

“Yep.  You’ll learn about those later.  VHS?”

“Yes, he told me how to handle the VHS.”

“Great.  So, Patterson and I will be working on case paperwork in the main room, if you have any questions, come get us, okay?”

“I will,” said McGee.  

Collins nodded.  “If we wind up being assigned a case, we’ll come get you.”  He absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder.  “The captain probably won’t give us anything today. Oh, and if Mayor Masters drops in, redirect him to the front desk.  There’s no reason for him to be back here.”

There was a good deal of hostility in Collins’ tone. Interesting.  

“Do you not get along with the mayor?”

“We get along fine,” said Collins.  “He just oversteps his authority, sometimes.”

“I… see.”

“Not yet you don’t,” said Collins, softly, before turning to walk away.  A “Good luck” was tossed casually over the man’s shoulder and seemed to echo in the air despite the hall being far too small for that to happen.  

McGee turned to his work and smiled.  They shouldn’t have left him alone with the records. This was where he did his best work. There was always a paper trail somewhere.  

He opened the department-issued laptop and brought up the digital filing system.  

It was odd, though.  He’d spent years in the police, and he’d never heard of Fenton & Foley Information Systems.  

.

The department computer filing system was a miracle.  McGee meant that completely, as a connoisseur of filing systems.  He wondered if he could get the county to adopt it, assuming it didn’t tie back to the mob or something equally unsavory.  

On the other hand, it was only a couple months old, by the looks of it.  It was, therefore, mostly empty, as compared to the almost infinite number of filing boxes in the record room.  

The record room was not well organized.  In fact, it was barely organized at all.  Several of the boxes looked like they’d been beaten with a bat, others were singed.  A few dripped with something sticky and green. One or two looked as though they’d been drenched in water and then left to dry in a dark, damp room.  Only about half of them were labeled.  

To top it off, towards the beginning he’d found a post-it that had said: Boxy, if you steal these again, I’m going to leave you in the thermos for a week.  -Phantom

The people here were way too into their tourist trap shenanigans.  Unless they weren’t just tourist trap shenanigans.  Unless they were a front.  

He’d put that on his list of things to investigate.

But first, first, he was going to find the records for the murder that was recently swept under the table.

The newest boxes, despite being reasonably intact and therefore unique, weren’t easy to find, but he was able to drag them out and sit down with his laptop.  He could enter as he searched, and thereby give the illusion that he was a completely normal transfer more credence.  

Except.

Except.  The records for that murder didn’t seem to exist.  Not even in the cold case box.

“Hey.”

McGee jumped.  Patterson was standing behind him, holding two paper coffee cups.  

“How’s it going?” she asked.  “I know these records are hell.”

“Fine,” he said.  

“Coffee?”

“Sure.”  He took the offered cup from her.  “Forgive me if I’m wrong,” he said, “but when I was working up at county, I heard that you had a murder case here, recently?  You dug up a teen’s body?”

“Oh, yeah.”  Patterson was unperturbed.  “Yeah, that was pretty exciting.  Collins and I were on that.”

“I can’t seem to find the records for it.”

“Yeah.  Well, there wasn’t any foul play.”  Patterson shrugged.  

“Wasn’t he found buried in a public park?”

“Well, aren’t you informed,” said Patterson. She sipped her coffee aggressively through the plastic stirring straw.  

“So, you found an illegally buried teenager’s corpse and just… dropped it?”

“We investigated it,” said Patterson.  “There wasn’t anything there.  Case was cold even without that.”  Another long, aggressive sip.  She couldn’t possibly be getting any coffee up through that straw.  It had to be mostly air.  

This was the most bizarre intimidation tactic McGee had ever come across in his entire life.  This was saying something.  Once he’d worked with a man who’d pretend to have the flu during interrogations.  

“You should still have records for the investigation.”

Patterson shrugged.  “You’d have to ask Captain Jones about that.  Anyway, I brought a bunch of tapes for you, too.  You’ll have to rewind them by hand, though, when you finally get to them.”  Another sip. “Are you planning on doing the salvage boxes?”

“The what?”

“The salvage boxes.  The ones that got fished out of the lake.  Wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t.  Just curious.”

“I’m- They were in a lake?  Why?”

“Stick around and find out,” said Patterson.  “Did Masters come bother you yet?”

“Mayor Masters?”

“The one and only,” said Patterson, raising her coffee in a mock toast.  

“Why would he come here?”

“Because you’re new, and theoretically a weak link. Oh, yeah.  One more thing.  I know your check-out time is in half an hour, but come back around eight, okay?”

“Why?”

“Reasons.”

“Are you hazing me?”

“That’s what the salvage boxes are for,” said Patterson.  “Come back at eight.  Bye.” She waved as she left.  

Great.  What was he supposed to do about that?

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He didn’t go home after checking out. Instead, he walked around town.  Patterson and Collins’ tour had been… interesting. Not terribly informative.  They had given him an overview of various restaurants, ‘paranormal hotspots,’ and places where dumb kids gathered to experiment with drugs of dubious legality.  

But they had avoided certain parts of town.  McGee had noticed.  

True, some of that was likely coincidence, but McGee had never heard of a public cemetery that wasn’t the site of something shady. Sure, a good caretaker would chase off anyone messing around in daylight, but cemeteries and graveyards just attracted trouble.  Even if that trouble was just the local goth kids running around while high out of their minds.  

But this cemetery, evidently, is different. Because there’s an unholy amount of people there for something that supposedly hallowed ground.  Is this also part of the weird ghost-theme the place had going for itself?  Were those tourists?  In the graveyard?  

That seemed to be in remarkably poor taste.  

McGee pushed his hands deeper into his pockets and lengthened his stride.  This whole town was in poor taste.  

Oddly, everyone seemed to be gathered around the same grave.  Maybe it was a funeral?  No, the ground in front of the headstone was long since patted firm, and the headstone, while obviously fairly new, had some evidence of weathering even from a distance.

Had there been a celebration today?  Memorial Day wasn’t today, was it?  McGee always lost track of those fiddly little holidays.

Huh.  The headstone was blank.

“Excuse me,” he said to a nearby woman.  “Do you know who was buried here?”

“You… don’t know?” she asked, eyes wide with surprise.  

McGee grinned.  “I’m new in town, I’m afraid, and I just saw all these people here… I’m curious, I guess.”

“Oh,” said the woman.  She looked away, every part of her body language screaming that she was coming up with a story to feed him.  A lie.  Or, at least, deciding which lie to use.  “Well, there was a body found a few months ago?  No one ever identified him, so… He was buried here?  We just, um.  It was sad, you know?  You’ll probably hear more about it if you stick around.”

Despite almost everything she said being a statement, she still managed to make everything but the last sentence sound like a question.  

Even if it was a lie…

“I hadn’t, actually.  Can you tell me what happened?”

… Maybe it was just what McGee needed.

#danny phantom #ectober #ectober 2020 #ectober week #ectober week 2020

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 50

The past week has been an abominably wild ride. I’m in the U.S, and we have had entirely too many shooting recently.  Add to that the fact that our election season is starting to ramp up, and the vitriol is spewing at work.  I’m a very opinionated person when it comes to politics and human rights (this really shouldn’t be a surprise if you’ve followed this far), and I try to keep the majority of it out of this story and off this blog.  That said, I’m down for some discourse if any of you want to message me.

Moving to the actual story: This chapter gives a bit of insight into where the story is going next, plus some of the background stuff I always have cluttering up my head.  It always gives me good material to show the different personalities and skill sets of the main and secondary characters.  Overall, I really like how this chapter turned out.

And don’t worry - that difficult conversation is coming very soon.

I managed to compose myself by the time the men came into my sister’s public room, but only just.  I hardly noticed the jostling on the couch as Tyche refused to move from my side and allow Maverick and Conor to sandwich me in between them like usual.  She elbowed me to get my attention, and only then did I realize that she was still sitting next to me. Maverick on my other side, with Conor on the floor leaning against mine and Maverick’s legs.

Antoine looked so amused at the situation, I thought he might explode. When I arched an eyebrow at him, he just shook his head and settled into the one perfectly empty chair.  “So, the festival?” he ventured.

Thank you for the safe ground, I thought before responding. “Overall, huge success.  I still have to debrief with Alistair tomorrow, but preliminary reports are pretty good.  There was a minor kerfluffle with a vendor before everything got set up, but we got that resolved pretty tidily.  I think so, at least.”

Tyche shook her head. “I don’t recall any vendor issues.”

“Exactly,” I pointed out. “Originally, there was going to be a location that specialized in a certain pork product, and Alistair caught it when the vendor wanted to be stationed where the Jainist cuisine ended up being.”

“But that was between….” Maverick trailed off, horrified. Conor’s shoulders shook with laughter, resulting in getting a swat on both shoulders – one from the pilot, one from my sister.  “Dude, it’s not funny!  That’s just deliberately being rude.  You don’t put pork between two groups who have religious prohibitions against it!”

Conor held his hands up in surrender. “I’m laughing at the tongue-lashing our Sophie probably gave the poor sod, I swear!”

“Actually, I didn’t.” Four heads turned to stare at me in disbelief. “Seriously. It was so much worse than you’re thinking, but I managed not to chew anyone out… much.  Remember all the gourmet bacon that was everywhere at the festival?  That was the guy.  For whatever reason, the vendor and Simon thought there was nothing wrong with having a bacon-themed stall.”

“At the same event that was intended to help everyone recover from the attack on the ship by a certain terrorist group?” Antoine asked quietly, in a tone that I had learned meant he was boiling mad.

“Yep,” I popped the last consonant in emphasis.  “I called him, pointed out how tasteless it was, and we decided instead to let the other alcoves feature the wares. To his credit, it never even crossed his mind that it was a bad idea. He was focused on the flavor list, and the vendor was focused on showing off like everyone else was.”

He nodded thoughtfully as my sister spoke. “So, the bacon gets out there, in the best possible way, without anyone being distracted by the connotation.”

“Pretty much. And, honestly? I think that particular vendor got better coverage than anyone else at the event… that stuff was everywhere.  Maple and bacon donuts, chocolates with candied bacon, on burgers, wrapped around seafood, you name it.”

“And that was the only vendor issue?” she asked.

I nodded, before switching gears. “Now, I want to hear about the low-stim portion of the event.  I have the official reports from everyone, and Alistair is going to give the highlights tomorrow, but I want to get an idea from you three how it plays against the regular session.”  Automatically, I started playing with Conor’s hair, just because it was by my hand. I had no idea how many times I had done that in the past, but I was very conscious of it right now.

Maverick spoke up, snapping me out of my distracted thoughts. “Well, it was a lot calmer, better lit, pretty much as intended.  With a very few exceptions, the vendors were much more relaxed during the low-stimulus session, too. I think that had a positive impact on the attendees, since they felt less like a bother.”

“There was definitely less resistance from the vendors in regards to food preferences in the earlier portion,” Antoine added.  “In the first session, when presented with a list of foods that were not an option, they largely cooperated. However, when we went back, this dropped by an estimated thirty percent.”

“That’s disappointing,” I muttered.

Maverick reached over to squeeze my hand gently. “Hey, on the plus side, the Japanese vendor kept the natto covered the entire time.”

“That was surprisingly popular,” my sister pointed out.  “Probably the novelty, from what you two told me about it. We may need to be on the lookout for natto-eating challenges in the near future.”

I shook with revulsion before composing myself. “To be fair, there are people who do actually like it, and it’s supposed to be very nutritious.  Don’t let our bias stop you from trying it. Just… please don’t do it when either of us is around?”

Conor took that chance to jump into the conversation. “Any of the typical disturbances you would see from a big event like that? Fights, drunk and disorderlies, that kind of thing?”

“I haven’t heard anything,” I responded cautiously. “And the alcohol was limited to two drinks per attendee, non-transferable.  Even at The Undine, the drinks were low or no content after each person had their allotment.  Xiomara will have the exact data, though.”

“Oh!” Tyche grabbed my arm for attention. “The quiet rooms? Huge success. I ducked in several of them both times I was there, and even toward the end of the festival, people were really respectful of them. Any groups were small, and they kept their voices at a whisper or a very low – “ She waved her hand at the word she was looking for. “Mutter. Not mutter. The other one. But that, yeah.”

Antoine chuckled at her excitement. “Yes, the attendees were keeping the noise to a minimum, as she says. It felt very much like walking into a library. You may receive some requests to keep the rooms in place, Sophia.”

Regretfully, I shook my head.  “I wish we could, but the majority of the space we used for the festival was only loaned to us by people who actually live there.  If those people want to keep the rooms as they are, they are more than welcome to the free re-decorating, but those are still private residences.  In fact, most of the people have already moved back in.” A collective groan came from everyone in the room, Conor going so far as to bury his face in my knee out of disappointment. “The best I can do is offer the design plans freely to everyone on the Ark, and I can talk to the Council about the demand for spaces like that. Maybe we can set up a few small libraries or botanical gardens throughout the ship, if Miys is okay with it.”

“I think the botanical gardens will go over well,” Conor offered, glancing up. “Noah is fond of air-cleaning plants, it turns out.  Calls them little trooplings.”  When Maverick furrowed his brows so hard it looked like it hurt, our resident pseudo-botanist clarified. “Hujylsogox are mycogenetic, which means they evolved from fungus-like lifeforms.  Mushrooms grow in colonies, clusters, and troops.  The word’s probably not the same, but the closest the translators can get to the concept of a baby Hujylsogox is ‘troopling’.”

“But why would Miys compare plants to baby-thems?” Maverick asked, glancing around for explanation.  Tyche, Antoine, and I just stared at Conor, waiting for an explanation.

With a sigh, he continued. “Noah – or Miys – absorbs nutrients and sustenance from the air, constantly.  It has to be supplemented with rations, sure, but it’s a function they can’t control.  Miys jokes about not having a sense of smell, but they can definitely tell how clean the air is, and they’re sensitive to caustic fumes.”

“Just like the plants,” Tyche ventured.

He nodded. “It’s really similar. The plants are a bit less sensitive to things like fumes from spicy foods, though.”  Tyche and I flushed at the reminder of the time we ran Miys out of my quarters while making dinner.  Antoine smiled, but Conor roared with laughter and told the story to Maverick.

When he finished, Tyche jumped in. “In our defense, we didn’t know the smell of the chili sauce reducing would give Noah actual burns.  The fumes or vapor, or whatever you want to call it, had run a couple people off, but Noah told us before that they don’t have noses, so it never occurred to us that it would be a problem.”

“Nothing in what you just said argues against the fact that you two were deliberately cooking and eating something so spicy that people ran away and one needed treatment for burns,” Maverick pointed out.

“Miys pointed that out, too,” I admitted. “Okay, new topic, before I die of embarrassment. Festival is out of the way, so the gravity adjustment is scheduled for two days from now.”

Antoine leaned forward with laser-focus. “We need to expect increased anxiety and paranoia, along with some fatigue.”

Tyche and I nodded, while Maverick made a noise of agreement. Conor glanced around at all of us. “Okay, superbrains, tell the dumb lug what I’m not understanding here.”

I rolled my eyes at the self-assigned appellation - he had just given us a  small lecture on the similarities between Miys biology and that of a potted plant -  and gestured for Antoine, following the evening’s convention of deferring to the people with the most expertise. He nodded and explained, “The increase in gravity will only be five-percent of Earth gravity, putting the entire ship at 1.1. It is not enough for anyone to really notice, beyond some minor discomfort, as everyone has already adjusted to the initial increase to 1.05. However, our brains know something is ‘not right’ for lack of a better term.  Not necessarily wrong or dangerous, but not the same and not what we have grown to consider normal, similar to if everything was moved two centimeters to the left – just because you cannot tell exactly what changed, it does not mean you cannot tell something has changed.  This results in increased anxiety and sometimes paranoia.”

Conor nodded as it started to make sense to him. “Even knowing ahead of time that the gravity will be adjusting, it can still happen?”

I snorted violently. “Never expect people to read all their mail.”

“Good point,” he conceded.  “How many total adjustments to gravity are we going to have?”

“Ten, total,” Tyche answered as she flicked open her data pad, shrugging apologetically. “I know, I know. Family rule: no data pads on dinner nights. But I don’t have all the information memorized, and this is a good discussion.”  Scrolling through the information, she stopped and mimed tapping a screen. “Kepler 442b has half-again as much gravity as Earth, which is more than our scientists Before had initially estimated.  Its star is slightly bluer than Sol, but not quite as bright. It isn’t tidally locked, but just barely.  A year there is about three Terran months, with the days half that long. It’s also colder than Earth, due to its star being smaller, but not by much once you compensate for Terran global warming and Kepler 442b having a denser atmosphere.” She scowled up at me. “We need to name our new home, you know. I thought you were going to work on that.”

“I’ve had a lot on my plate,” I objected before sighing and slouching against the back of her couch. “But you’re right. We need to get on that. I want to do an Ark-wide poll, but I need to set the criteria and have it approved by the Council, first. Nobody actually wants to name our second chance ‘Colony McPlanetface’, and I would like to weed out the multitudinous variations of home or dirt.”

“Have people submitting ideas include a justification,” Maverick pointed out. “That will weed out a lot of people who aren’t serious, if they have to include an essay.”

I grinned widely at him, squeezing his arm in affection. “That’s a great idea, actually.  Granted, I don’t look forward to reading all those essays – even if a single-digit percent of people submit, that’s still hundreds – but at least it will limit the submissions that are intended as a joke.”  I thought for a moment. “And… if we include the criteria that the name cannot be certain words or versions of certain words, Zach can probably write a program to weed those out, as well.”  I turned to my sister and Antoine, nudging Conor gently.

“Start thinking of names we don’t want to see.  I’ll send a message to the Council tomorrow asking for their input and running the idea by them tentatively.  And whoever is keeping track, add Goldilocks to that list.  It was unoriginal to start with, and now it just feels cursed.”

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#the miys #humans are weird #original sci fi #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #writing #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia

[sol1056]

stop and un-remember this

Step away from the echo chambers of twitter and tumblr, and set aside the pockets of the internet where reviews live. Most of a show’s viewing audience -- hell, the vast majority of the US -- doesn’t reside in those places. 

For the casual viewers who make up the silent majority of almost every viewing audience, there’s minimal interest in any convention circuit, or interview, or much of anything outside Netflix’s selections. (This is one reason for having reviews and interviews showing up in a half-dozen venues, to try and grab as many low-engagement viewers as possible.) 

What that means is that, for the majority of viewers who are not as plugged-in as the core fandom, the story exists only as it’s shown on their screens. So let’s step back from JDS’ and LM’s ex-canonical explanations, and look at how the story appears when taken solely on its own merits. 

Behind the cut: five things the story doesn’t explain, and how the actual narrative might appear to a casual viewer. 

1. Shiro has a degenerative disease; while perhaps not terminal, it does sound inevitably debilitating. 

This is quite a bombshell, and it’s never mentioned again. Nothing in the story offsets or contradicts what Shiro -- or anyone else -- says in S7E1 about how much longer he’s got. 

SHIRO: I’ll only be able to maintain my peak condition for a couple more years.

This is underscored by the series’ use of timeframes (to a greater degree than any previous season). We know Shiro spent a year as a prisoner, and from Pidge’s later comment about ‘four years’, we can deduce it’s been another year since then, plus a magical three-year timeskip in the return to Earth. 

That means that for casual viewers, the season is shadowed by this assumption that Shiro has an expiration date -- and it’s not that far off in the future.

2.  Keith inexplicably stops pressuring Shiro to take position as Black Paladin.

Nothing is said anywhere as to why Shiro is no longer tied to Black nor the Black Paladin. The closest we get to even a nod in that direction is when all but the five current paladins are frozen, in S7E6.

ALLURA: Coran is frozen as well. Our paladin armor must have protected us from the shock.

The problem is Shiro’s wearing armor, too, and he’s also frozen. That single line (and his exclusion from the bulk of that episode) seems to stand in for the message that Shiro is no longer a paladin. 

At the same time, S7 had a complete absence of any protest from Keith. We’ve had 50+ episodes of Keith insisting -- even when all evidence pointed to Shiro’s death -- that Shiro remained the Black Paladin.

KEITH: Shiro is gone. He was the Black Lion.

A casual viewer might decide Keith’s silence in S7 meant Keith realized he’d been wrong all along. That in fact, the mantle of Black Paladin passed to Keith upon Shiro’s “death,” and the clone taking Black was another indication of the clone’s wrongness. That is, the clone stole Shiro’s memories and appearance, and Keith’s position as Black Paladin. 

3.  Shiro’s physical abilities are downgraded significantly.

Most of the fight scenes across S7, Shiro does little, if he’s even present at all. Krolia lampshades this by saying Shiro’s still recovering.

KROLIA: No, you’re still recovering. I’ll do it.

And in the last stretch of S7, Shiro’s contribution amounts to telling other people what to do; his previous physicality is reduced to acting as a conduit for Sam to hack his brain. And finally, Sendak defeats Shiro easily, compared to S1 where Shiro fought him to a draw. 

A casual viewer might thus assume Shiro himself chose (offscreen) to refuse Black’s position, between adjusting to a new body and the last stages of a genetic disease (since a clone with identical memories would reasonably also have identical physical aspects). 

4. Shiro has the clone’s body, but not the clone’s memories.

In S7E1, the high-drama element is whether his awareness can fix itself to an unfamiliar body. Shiro calls out the clone-situation only once. 

SHIRO: Well, I'm sorry, Lance, but I guess having my consciousness transplanted from the infinity of Voltron's inner quintessence into the dead body of an evil clone of myself has left me a little out of sorts for the past few weeks. 

Later, Shiro mentions his “disappearance,” and says dealing with the long dark passage alone required adopting routines. He never references any events that happened during his absence. The narrative is pretty clear, so it’d be reasonable to conclude the two had completely separate experiences, and Shiro has none of the clone’s memories. 

In short: Kuron was evil, is now dead, and has no further influence on events.  

5. While we’re at it, a casual viewer might be unaware of the intended subtext of Shiro’s relationship with Adam. 

Yes, yes, I’ve seen all the arguments that say it’s supposed to be coded as romantic, but it’s full of contradictions that create a certain ambiguity. For one, they’re in the officer’s club, with other people present. Second, although Adam asks what he means to Shiro, his next line could imply a long-term partnership of a military kind. 

ADAM: Every mission, every drill, I’ve been right there with you.

Although the EPs/writers seem to put family together to a frightening degree that a modern military would never condone --- Matt and Sam on the mission to Kerberos, Veronica going with Lance to the battlefield --- that’s just not the assumption the average person is going to make. 

In writing, you always put last what you want to stick in the reader’s mind. The order here leaves room for viewers to skip over any implications in the first line to linger on the second, which could be ambiguously platonic. A viewer not actively looking for queer representation could interpret this as Adam being afraid for his best friend, and possibly a bit jealous at being left behind. 

At no point -- in that first episode, or later, when Shiro learns of Adam’s death -- does anyone speak of their relationship. Nowhere does Shiro even put a word to it. If casual viewers had already coded them as best friends or near-brothers, Shiro’s grief is still comprehensible and relatable. In some ways, the platonic aspect of other pop-culture bromances (ie Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers) are just as strong, with mourning just as severe. 

Honestly, there was more in a few lines’ exchange between Ezor and Zethrid to indicate a romantic relationship than there was in all of the Shiro/Adam interactions or references. “I’ll always take care of you” and “that’s my girl” are pretty unambiguous, especially given the character designs (and previous interactions) make it pretty clear these two are not siblings. 

And --- unlike with Adam and Shiro --- they’re storyboarded with a certain intimacy. They’re alone, and Zethrid gets in close in Ezor’s personal space, with Ezor neither pushing her away nor recoiling. 

ZETHRID: Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.

If casual viewers had heard anything in passing about LGBT+ rep in VLD, it’s entirely possible they could’ve assumed this was the rep intended. Of course, both die in a fiery explosion not long after, but who’s counting. 

in the absence of in-story explanation

It seems to me that a casual viewer --- lacking the EPs’ explanations --- might have found S7 somewhat confounding. Is Shiro now unable (or not allowed) to pilot Black because he occupies someone else’s body? Is Keith’s tacit appropriation of the Black Paladin mantle meant to signal the S4 handoff was a mistake? By virtue of his disease or his victimhood in Haggar’s schemes, is Shiro no longer qualified to be a paladin? 

The season’s also full of characters framed as though we should care as deeply about them as we do about the core protagonists. Adam, Colleen, Iverson, Sam, and a dozen or more Garrison cadets and officers, all better trained, better disciplined, and better equipped than Voltron itself. They not only get two episodes of backstory (twice what Voltron itself got), they dominate most of the second half of the season.

Meanwhile, the protagonists struggle, needing Shiro to tell them what to do; they’re almost their own worst enemies more than Sendak is. Compared to the Earth forces who rally repeatedly, the Voltron team barely hangs in there. They need Shiro’s ultra-ugly oversized insta-mecha to intervene, before Voltron can get its act together long enough to strike the killing blow.   

Honestly, it’s no surprise the first flush of audience reaction is so unhappy, if the majority were unaware of the EPs’ explanations. Almost all contradict point-blank what we see in the story itself: 

Shiro’s disease was cured during his imprisonment or cured in the cloning process, but either way he’s fine, now

The clone was neither evil nor brainwashed, just basically Shiro doing his best until Haggar struck in late S6

Shiro and the clone are now merged consciousness, with Shiro retaining his memories plus that of the clone’s

Shiro’s link to Black has been permanently broken by Allura’s transfer; he’s no longer a paladin, full stop

Shiro and Adam were in a long-term relationship, either currently engaged or heading that direction, at the time of their breakup

None of that shows up in the narrative. None of it. 

Lacking that ex-canonical information, it had to have felt as though the story’s expected trajectory was just thrown out the nearest window. Coupled with the extreme emphasis on an entirely new set of characters, I wouldn’t be surprised if casual viewers got the impression that S7 existed solely as setup for Voltron to gain a new and better set of paladins.

#vld #voltron #analysis #vld spoilers #season 7 #come for the sugar stay for the salt

[todorosy]

Pt. One: Toshinori, Present Mic & Hawks, separately, fall arse over teakettle in love with a new teacher/Pro Hero but find out very quickly in their attempts to woo them that said crush, while they are not aromantic, is incredibly jaded when it comes to love and generally scoffs at the whole idea of romance as just a ludicrous mating dance humans do in order to fulfill the base need to pass on genetics...

Pt. Two: After several attempts the boys notice she even has a detailed broken heart tattooed on her left ring finger; turns out it represents her first love & first broken heart, her previous fiancée. (I chose the boys most likely, IMO, to either understand or be outrageous ‘I’ll win them over eventually’ flirts, haha!)

I’m sorry this took so long! It took me a while to get a feel for Hawks’ personality. I still hope you enjoy this.

Torshinori Yagi

You had finally made it passed the brutal training and interviews. Of course you understood why becoming a teacher at Yuuei was such a tedious process. You had to protect these kids with your life and villains were constantly targeting them. But you had finally made it in.

You started heading over to the teacher’s lounge, hoping to find a a coffee pot ready to go. You had spent all night trying to plan out the curriculum for the semester. Once you walked in, the conversation in the room halted. It was a stare down between you and the other teachers as you walk over to the coffee machine.

“H/N! You much be the new heroics teacher, right?” Midnight asks. “I haven’t seen you in so long!” She gives you a tight hug.

“That I am. I’m teaching combat strategy.” You smiled and set your heavy binder down. “It’s good to see you again, Midnight.” You hugged her back.

You and Midnight had worked at the same hero agency when you first started your hero career. You two were quick to become good friends, though you two were forced apart when you transferred to a farther agency.

“You probably already know everyone, but everyone, this is L/N Y/N or H/N!” She introduces you to the other teachers in the room.

“Heroics, huh?” All Might says. “Guess we’ll be working closely, then!” He says with a wide smile.

“Guess we will!” You say with an equally large smile.

-

After a few weeks have passed by, you were quickly settled in your new class with the help of All Might. He every so often stopped by with coffee or teacher gossip and usually hangs out with you while you prepped for your next class.

After a tough day of hero training. You paired students together so you could get an idea of their combat skills so you could determine a plan for them to improve their skills and ways to come up with strategies. You plopped down on the couch in the teacher’s lounge.

“And to think I didn’t believe you when you told me about Bakugou and Midoriya. Have they always been like that?” You ask the man sitting next to you. “Midoriya seems like he’ll fly through my class with no problem, but Bakugou is so…trigger happy!”

“Right? They’re childhood ‘friends’ so thus fued has been going on for some time. I don’t really know how I feel about it.” He shrugs.

“I kind of admire it. They bring out the best and worst in each other.” You say, in deep thought. “And speaking of bringing out the worst in one another, I overheard some student gossip about Midoriya and Uraraka. You know what I’m talking about right?”

“Young Mirdoriya and Uraraka? Are they together?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Well no. But Uraraka has feeling for him apparently.” You sigh. “It’s tough because she has a lot of potential too.”

“Why is that tough? This is common for teenagers their age anyways. Hormones and all.” He says with an amused smile.

“Well, love holds you back. I personally think it’s ridiculous. What really is the point of it? I just think Uraraka should put her feelings aside and follow her brain instead of her heart. I know Midoriya is so determined to become a hero, that’s all he’s ever thinking about. Uraraka is going to get left in the dust and fall behind if she tries to go for it.”

All Might stopped and stared at you for a second. He remembered what Midnight had told him several days ago when he told her that he were somewhat interested in you. He remembered her telling him about your tragic past relationship. You were so close to eternal happiness, only to have it ripped away from someone who didn’t care for you. He guess that’s why you have such resentment against the idea of love.

He glanced down at your balled up hands to see a small tattoo of a broken heart on your ring finger, where a wedding band would reside.

“I think she should go for it. Young Midoriya may be oblivious, but Uraraka should help him realize that there’s much more to life than hero work. Love can make one stronger and push them to give it their all no matter what the outcome may be. Even if she fails, she’ll be happy with knowing that she pushed for it. Maybe she’ll be able to win him over…eventually.” He says with a soft smile on his face.

Your face felt hot. His small speech had a surprising amount of passion behind it, you surely forgot all about what you two were actually talking about.

“Are we…still talking about Uraraka and Mirdoriya?” You cock an eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah!” His grin grows. “What else would I be talking about?”

He knew that he was going to keep on trying to win you over, even if your perception of love was tainted. He may not be the same muscular and strong All Might he once was, but he was going to try his hardest if he would get even more damaged in the end.

Hizashi Yamada

You wandered around the school for a bit, looking around for the classroom you were assigned to. You cursed yourself for not showing up early to get a head start on searching for the class. This school was so big, it could be anywhere! You look down at your map, staring at the confusing crossings and labeled room numbers. You felt like a student on the first day of school, and you were honestly as nervous as one too.

You stood in front of the door, which you had hoped was the right classroom. Once you step in, you see 3 pair of eyes burn into you

“H/N! Thank god you’re finally here.” Says the cheery voice. You let out a sigh of relief once you see Present Mic’s face. You had made it to the right classroom after all. “I am so tired of these suckers. Please save me.”

You let out a chuckle as you approach the circle of desks they were sitting in. “Sorry I’m late. Got a little lost.” You shove the map in your back pocket, sitting down in a nearby desk. “I’m H/N or L/N F/N”. Present Mic’s new teacher assistant. Nice to meet you guys.”

“Aizawa Shouta. Eraserhead. Nice to meet you.” The man with long, disheveled black hair says.

“Torshinori Yagi. All Might” The familiar man says with a wide grin.

“Well, we better get going. You two have fun with whatever you’re doing.” Aizawa says, grabbing All Might out the door with him.

“Well, Miss L/N, your first day is going to be quite easy. All of the kids are out on a field trip with Midnight and Cementoss. So that means we’ll be spending the day grading papers! Fun, right?”

“My lucky day.” You chuckle.

What you had thought would be an unexciting and boring day, had been the opposite. The room was filled with soft music as you two bonded over music, hobbies and etc.

Maybe this job wasn’t as boring as you had thought it would be.

Every weekend, Hizashi would invite you to go out to the bar with him, Aizawa and Midnight to have a little fun. Though you rejected every time despite them always egging you on to bond with the other teachers and “loosen up a little.”

This weekend, you reluctantly agreed.

Midnight had allowed you to wear a dress of her’s for the occasion.

“Uhh, I don’t know about this dress. It’s a little short and tight, don’t you think?” You say, tugging down the ends of the dress to cover up more skin.

“It’s a club! You’re supposed to show off those legs and curves.” She squeals. “And plus, not to make things weird for you two, but I’m pretty sure Hizashi has a little crush on you.”

“What? No way.” You scoff. Brushing it off is easy, but you had a feeling that it was true. His “subtle” flirting wasn’t subtle at all. You could see right through his facade when you two were around his other friends.

“Why not? What’s wrong with it? You two get along so well.” She frowns.

“Love is a game.” You roll your eyes. “And I got played. Hard.” You fiddled the rings on your finger.

“Alright girl, I got it.” She sighs. “Can’t say that Hizashi will though. He’s persistent.” she scrunches her nose.

Once you two walked into the club, the strong smell of B.O and alcohol filled your nostrils. Loud music pumped through your ears. Once you spotted the boys, you tugged Midnight’s hand towards their booth.

“Hey guys!” You smiled as you slide into the booth next to Hizashi, with Midnight across from you.

“Y/N! I didn’t think you’d show up.” Hizashi says over the music. “You look really good!”

“Thanks! Not really my style, but it’s fun!” You smoothed down the front of the dress. “I’ll be right back, I’m little too sober for this environment.”

You sat down at the bar, tapping your fingers on the counter while you waited for the bartender.

“Hi, one cranberry vodka please.” You sweetly say.

“On me.” A stranger comes up, putting money down on the counter.

“Oh, uh thank you.” You say, flustered. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“No problem sweetheart. You can repay me with a kiss.” He smirks, stepping closer to you.

You cocked your eyebrow as you took a long sip of your drink. “No thank, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes. He was obviously drunk off of his mind.

“No? Well you’re going to have to pay me one way or another. He glides his hand up your thigh. Before you could react, you see his being roughly pulled back by another person.

“Hey, babe, is this guy bothering you?” Hizashi says, putting himself between you and the man.

“Sure is.” You downed the rest of your drink.

“You heard the lady. Get going, buddy.” He pushes the stranger away into the crowd of dancing bodies.

“You okay?” He casually sits down next to you with a beer in hand.

“Yeah. You wanna step outside for a minute? I have to talk to you about something.” You say with a stern face.

“Oh boy. Sounds serious. Alright, let’s go.” He allows you to go ahead of him to the back exit.

“So what’s up?” He leans up against the wall with his hands in his pockets. You didn’t know how to go about with this confrontation. You were a pretty blunt person, but you were thinking about how this could affect your work.

“You like me.” You blurt out. You play with the hem of the dress and nervously bit the insides of your cheeks while watching his face for any reaction.

He lets out a sheepish laugh while scratching the back of his neck. “Wow okay I’m not nearly as drunk as I would like to be when having this conversation. But yeah. Was it obvious?”

Your face reddened. You weren’t expecting such an upfront answer.

“No. It wasn’t. Midnight told me. I’m sorry if this ruins the night, but I wanted to tell you that it can’t happen.” You say. “I-It’s not you, though! I just…it’s not my thing, you know? Romance and all.”

“Oh.” He simply says. “It’s not your thing?”

“Yeah. Maybe one day it can be, but for now it kinda sucks.” You say, rubbing the slightly faded tattoo on your ring finger.

He looks down at your hands before realization hits him. He didn’t have the heart to ask you about it, since it was obviously a touchy subject for you. He knew that he would have to do what was best for you, even if he had to put his feelings aside for it.

“That’s okay.” He grins. “I completely understand. We’re still cool, right?”

“Definitely!” You smile, perking back up.

Hawks

You were about to start your first day at a new hero agency. At your previous agency, your boss was a controlling asshole so you were quick to transfer out.

You were sitting in an office, waiting for your first official meeting with your new boss. To be honest, you were quite nervous. You saw Hawks on the news all the time and he was perfectly charming and charismatic, but a lot of the time heroes had a facade for the cameras. You didn’t really know what to expect with this new boss, especially since he was so young.

“Hellllooo!” You hear behind you as the door opened. “You must be the newbie!” Hawks sat down behind the desk and looked through the paperwork about you.

“That’s me.” You grin. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m excited to be working here.”

“I’m happy to have you on the team. I’ve seen you on the news a few times and I must say, your pull/push quirk is amazing! It’s pretty cool to have someone has experienced and young as I am. It makes me feel a little less out of place.

“Thanks! We’re a team now, after all.” I smile and tuck my hair behind my ear.

“Now how about we go out patrolling?”

You two were out wandering around the city. We were often stopped by his fans who asked for pictures and autographs, which you had to admit, was pretty annoying, but he was kind about it.

Suddenly, a loud crash boomed from above you. Coming out of the building was one of those flying bird brains. You mentally cursed. There were so many civilians around, how could you possibly get everyone to escape without getting any injuries.

You raise your hand, activating your push quirk to prevent the ruble and debris from crashing down on civilians. You look over to see Hawks sending feathers out to carry the civilians in the building out to safety.

You gently lay the debris on the ground after the area you were in was cleared of people.

“H/N! You have to fight from above. Keep him away from the ground until we cleared the street.” You hear hawks call out. You look up to see the bird flying straight towards you.

You propel yourself off of the ground, pulling the bird with you.

You had to plan this attack carefully. You were able to propel yourself up and off of objects, but one wrong move could cause you to fall straight down without control.

“Oh? What a unique quirk.” The bird growled.

“So it speaks.” You snarl back, forcibly pulling it towards you and landing a punch, forcing it to fly upwards. This caused you to slightly fall before you were able to catch yourself on the fire escape of a building. You look down to see that the street was cleared. Here was your chance. You propel yourself up once again, but this time straight above the bird. With your other hand, you pushed the bird down towards to ground. Without the use of your other hand, you fell with it. You hear the loud thud as it hits the ground, but you knew you were next.

“Hawks!” You call out as you see yourself grown closer and closer to the ground. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the fall.

You open your eyes to find a pair of arms, holding you tightly.

“I gotcha, don’t worry.” He chuckles. You look past his shoulders to see his wings barely able to hold you two up. You realized that he used most of his feathers saving the civilians while you were handling the bird. “Beautiful and bad ass,. What a combo.” He smirks.

“Thanks.” You laugh awkwardly.

You two quickly escaped the news team that was lined up at every corner of the block. Through the alleyways you found your way back to the hero agency building.

During the next few weeks, you two had been flooding the news. Turns out, you were a great villain fighting duo. Because of this, you two became good friends. Though, he was blunt and bold with his interest in you romantically.

You rejected every advance he had towards you. Whether it was to get dinner together, go on a coffee run together, and etc.

“Okay, Y/N. Why are you avoiding me?” He stops you in the halls. “I know you know I like you. I know it’s kinda weird to date your boss, but I told you to just think of me as another friend.”

You chuckle. “It’s not that, Hawks. Trust me.” You lifted your hand. “I’ve noticed that you stare at this whenever were in a hero meeting.” You look down at the broken heart that resided on your ring finger. “That relationship taught me a lot of things. Love isn’t real. It’s all just an illusion.” You sigh, reminiscing back on your former love. “I hope you understand.”

“I get it. I really do. But what I feel for you is real and I’ll prove it to you.” He says with a determined smirk.

You cocked an eyebrow. “No really, Hawks, I don’t want you to grow too attached or anything. You’re a really sweet person and I don’t want you to get your heart broken. I assure you that I’m not worth it.”

“Okay.” He shrugs. “I won’t grow attached. I hope you won’t either.” He winks before walking away.

#toshinori x reader #toshinori yagi #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia #mha #present mic #hizashi x reader #yamada hizashi #hawks x reader #bnha hawks #aizawa shouta #toshinorixreader #hizashixreader #hawksxreader #aizawaxreader

[sonderlivra]

Request: EreMika; Eren as a med student/doctor and Mikasa running on a treadmill while connected to a heart monitor as part of a stress test; the stress proving too much for Mikasa's heart, resulting in a massive heart attack and Eren must revive her

Oh, anon, anon. What an amazing ask this is! I’ve kinda maybe gone totally overboard with the prompt. Fair warning, though, I think you maybe wanted an emotionally intense Eremika fic, but it’s turned out pretty light-hearted, tbh. Still, thankyou thankyou thank you for this amazing prompt!! Especially after that clusterfuck in the latest manga chapter…

Ugh, what a shitty day. Mikasa tapped her foot on the aggressively clean floor, sulky and impatient. I never faint.

“This is a waste of time,” she muttered, not for the first time. Her cousin looked away from his phone, and his scowl somehow deepened.

“You really don’t want me to agree with you,” he snapped, “unless you want your mother here instead of me.”

She frowned right back at him. “We had a deal.”

He sniffed and turned back to his phone. “Not really a blood pact, was it? I could still call your Mom right now.”

“You do that and I’ll tell her about your boyfriend.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” was all he had to say to that and he stood up to fetch himself more coffee. Mikasa watched him leave, her frustration increasing. Coming to the hospital was pointless, she was sure. She knew she was fine, she could feel it in herself. She had only fainted at the gym because she hadn’t eaten anything all day, but her stupid cousin had to get all protective and responsible and drag her here.

The nurse poked her head into the waiting room. “Mikasa?” She said, smiling sweetly. “We’re ready for you.”

Mikasa put away her phone and looked for Levi, who, of course, had to go away at that exact moment. With an irritated shrug, she gathered her things and followed the nurse.

A treadmill hooked up to an EKG machine awaited her. Thinking wryly that this wasn’t so different from the gym, she put aside her bag and jacket and stepped on the treadmill.

“Dr. Jaeger will be with you in a minute,” chirped the nurse in parting, and left her alone in the room. Mikasa sighed again when she left, tapping her foot impatiently.

She was looking at her phone, wondering if she should call Levi, when the door opened.

“Thanks for waiting, Miss Ack-uhhh.”

Mikasa turned to the doctor, who had frozen in the doorway. Her first thought was ‘he’s so young’, followed by an immediate ‘wow he’s cute’.

“Ackerman,” she murmured, feeling a soft flutter in her chest.

The young doctor gaped at her. “Huh?”

“My name,” Mikasa explained.

“Right. Sorry. Miss Ackerman. Hi. Thanks for coming. I mean, I hope everything’s alright.”

“Yeah. Um, I hope so too,” she said shyly, cursing internally that she didn’t have Annie’s guts or Sasha’s confidence.

“Right. So, I’ll just… hook these up.” He held up wires connected to sticky pads and glanced at her, and she felt a small jolt of excitement when she realised he looked nervous.

“You’ll,” he cleared his throat and gestured at her. “You’ll have to lift your shirt.”

She had on a tank top inside. Still, she could not help the slight blush when she did as told.

The doctor - Dr. Jaeger, she reminded herself - froze again.

“Wow, you’re beautiful,” he blurted, then gasped, “Built! I meant built!”

“I work out,” she said, trying to be nonchalant, holding back her smile and then the shudders when she felt the cool surface of the sticky pads below her collarbone.

He stepped away rather quickly when he was done. “Well, your base heartrate is a little high,” he said, watching the monitor, “but it’s nothing to worry about, I’m sure.”

Mikasa nodded; she wasn’t surprised at the heartrate at all.

“Just start with a gentle walk and slowly move faster,” he advised her, and Mikasa began to move her feet. They were silent for a minute or two until he spoke.

“So,” he cleared his throat again. “What do you do? To work out, I mean,” he added, and then grinned, waving at her toned midriff. “Clearly it’s pretty intense.”

Mikasa almost stumbled when she saw how adorable he looked smiling. She could tell he was trying to smooth over the first few awkward moments and hastened to play along. “Started with muay thai but I’m mostly into capoeira now.”

“No way,” he said, raising a thick brown eyebrow. Mikasa had to turn away from his sparkling green eyes, they were too unfairly pretty. “I do muay thai, too!”

Mikasa’s eyes shifted back to him. “Really?”

“Yeah! I go to this gym called Scouts -you know it? Some pretty good instructors there.”

“I’m - I’m an instructor there,” she admitted, excitement jolting in her once more.

Those beautiful green eyes widened. “No way!” He gasped again, leaning against the side rail of the treadmill. “What do you teach?”

“Capoeira,” she mumbled, her nervousness increasing and footsteps quickening when she noticed him lean closer to her.

“Probably why I haven’t seen you there,” he said, ruffling the back of his head ruefully. “Plus, since I started my residency I haven’t been able to go as often as I’d like.”

“You must be very busy,” she nodded. Her voice was starting to get breathy but she didn’t notice.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he snorted grimly. “God, it sounded amazing and all, wanting to be a doctor, but the amount of work involved is just…”

“Overwhelming?” She finished for him.

“To put it mildly,” he agreed. “When I get back home the last thing I want to do is stay on my feet.” His mouth twisted in a pout, and Mikasa had to fight the urge to reach over and do something stupid -like patting his unruly hair into place, or poking his frown until it turned into a smile once more. To curb this embarrassing urge, she increased her pace on the treadmill even more.

“I mean, I like muay thai,” Dr. Jaeger continued conversationally. “Been doing it for years. And I’ve had great instructors too, since I joined Scouts, but now I hate that I can’t make the time for it, you know?”

Mikasa nodded, pursing her lips tight to avoid wheezing. She was already jogging now, and the treadmill’s incline had increased, but she didn’t want to burst this little bubble of conversation that they had found themselves in, just the two of them.

So she took in a few quick shallow breaths to make sure her voice didn’t tremble when she asked, “So who’s your trainer?”

His face brightened. “Oh yeah, you probably know them! I started with Annie, and she's… you know. Kickass, literally.” He grinned and Mikasa nodded, muffling the jealous twist in her chest. “But I wanted much more of a challenge, so I-”

A sudden memory hit Mikasa at that moment - Annie’s smirking face, her voice slightly more animated than usual, “There’s this guy in my class. Wants more than he can handle, the idiot. I tried to get him to change his mind, but he’s gone and-”

“-got myself transferred to Levi’s class.” He finished blithely.

Weeks and months of her cousin’s griping suddenly crashed into her conscious mind, and Mikasa froze so suddenly the belt carried her a few inches back.

“You’re the medical brat?” She gasped, a bead of sweat trickling onto her eye.

A frown appeared on his face, deeper than before. “Yeah -how do you know-”

Somehow, her brain had filed away the rare instance of his actual name being mentioned in the numerous rants she had witnessed.

“You’re Eren.” She whispered, and right at that moment, her legs gave way and her world turned black.

She came to what felt like moments later, her lips tingling and shouts pounding in her ears.

“-the fuck did you do to her, you fucking idiot?!”

“She -she collapsed, I -I didn’t-”

“The fuck kind of doctor do you call yourself-”

She had never heard Levi shout like this before. Blinking blearily, she lifted her woozy head to see Levi red with rage, screaming down a very upset-looking Eren, the kind nurse from before trying tearfully, and failing, to calm him down.

“Levi…” Mikasa groaned, and his shouts cut off abruptly. She blinked again, and Levi was already kneeling on the floor next to her.

“What happened?” He asked, his thin brows twisted in concern.

She tried to sit up, shaking her head slowly. “I’m fine…”

“The hell you are.” He sounded angry again and shot a furious glare at Eren, who stood with his back to the wall, his face pale, his anxious eyes fixed on her face.

“It was just a BP drop!” Eren managed to yelp, but was quickly overruled.

“Aren’t you supposed to watch for that shit in a stress test?” Levi demanded, and Eren somehow turned more pale, even as Levi’s face turned red once more. “I’m gonna sue you and this hospital, you fucking brat-”

“Levi,” Mikasa said, her voice firmer than before.

“This is gross incompetence-” Levi argued.

“Just, stop, please. My head is pounding.”

That seemed to work, and everyone shut up instantly. The nurse hurried forward to help Mikasa to the bed, and Levi snapped at her to get a real doctor right away. Mikasa avoided Eren’s gaze as he slunk away from the room.

Her cousin didn’t calm down until his friend came down personally to check on her. Dr. Zoë was the reason they had come to this hospital in the first place, and Levi vented to her some more about how her new intern had jeopardised Mikasa’s life. Dr. Zoë absorbed it all with a sort of cheerful poise that left Mikasa in awe. Very few people could handle an angry Levi, after all.

“-and of all the things, the fuckin’ idiot is trying to give her CPR, as if that’s what she needed-”

Mikasa’s heart gave a treacherous lurch. Is that why her lips felt… strange?

Dr. Zoë was smirking. “CPR, you say?” Mikasa glanced away, embarrassed.

“Yeah, didn’t you hear me?” Levi snapped. “Anyway-”

“Levi, hun, we all think it’s sweet how much you care for your baby cousin, but you really need to chill, right now.” Dr. Zoë put away her stethoscope, and Mikasa stared at her once more.

“You want me to chill.” Levi grit out.

“She’s fine,” Dr. Zoë said airily and turned to her. “Maybe a bit of a diet change for your blood pressure, and ease up on the cardio for a few days, hmm?” Mikasa nodded dazedly. “Of course, if you still feel faint or get chest pains or anything, come see me right away, okay?”

Mikasa nodded again. Dr. Zoë turned back to her cousin and said grandly, “But I should prescribe you some pills, Mr. Boiling Kettle.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“No dear, you get out of my hospital, now. My work here is done.” She scribbled something onto Mikasa’s patient form and nodded brightly at them both. “See you on leg day!” She beamed and walked away.

“Everyday is leg day, shitty glasses!” Levi called out, and Dr. Zoë left with a booming laugh and a wave.

There was a split second of silence. Then Mikasa sighed, “Let’s go home.”

But before he could respond, there was a soft knock on the door, and Eren slipped into the consultation room.

“Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” Eren said hurriedly, and when Levi didn’t interrupt him, he continued, “I’m really sorry for -for not taking care of your…” He hesitated. “Niece?”

“She’s my sister, you incompetent loon,” Levi barked. “How old do you think I am?”

“Cousin,” Mikasa clarified with a half-smile.

“Right. Sorry. I’m sorry, really.”

Mikasa shook her head. “Wasn’t your fault.”

Levi looked close to murderous again, so she reminded him of the paperwork and medicines he needed to get sorted before they could go. Almost reluctantly, Levi agreed and left, pointedly ignoring Eren.

Leaving them both alone together, once more.

“What did Dr. Zoë say?” Eren asked softly, and Mikasa told him.

“That’s good,” he sighed. He took a hesitant step or two forward. “I really am sorry. Really.”

Mikasa shook her head hurriedly. “It wasn’t your fault.” His eyes were still so wide with remorse, that she threw caution to the winds and ducked her head and muttered, “I only blame you partially -indirectly.” A quick glance at his face. “You made me nervous.”

She heard the deep intake of his breath, saw his feet shuffle forward. “I made you nervous?”

She risked a glance at him, and felt the flutter in her chest again when she saw how his wide eyes were practically shimmering.

He stood right in front of her now, and placed his hand right next to hers on the cot. “Um. Wow.”

“Yeah,” Mikasa murmured, lips twitching into a smile. “Did you really try CPR on me?”

His dark cheeks flushed beautifully. “I panicked,” he admitted, his fingers twining between hers.

“You were stressed,” Mikasa said softly, moving her own fingers until they were holding hands.

Eren let out a bark of laughter at that. “Yeah thanks for that, by the way.”

“Anytime,” she grinned back at him, squeezing his hand.

They stared intently at each other for a long moment, before Eren let out a rueful chuckle. “Oh god, Levi’s gonna murder me in class.”

“He won’t,” she assured him confidently. “I can handle him.”

“I believe you,” Eren muttered admiringly. “Maybe I should just change classes or something.”

“Maybe you should try capoeira.”

His grin widened. “Maybe I should.”

“Whenever you’re finished,” came a sulky interruption from the door. Mikasa simply rolled her eyes and slipped off the cot, feeling suddenly bereft when Eren jerked his hand away. Pointedly ignoring her cousin, she smiled, “See you later, Eren,” and placed a quick kiss on his warm cheek.

His stunned face made her smile wider, and he managed a loud “Bye, Mikasa!” just as they left the room.

Levi was ominously quiet as they made their way to the lobby and out the front doors. He only spoke when they reached the car.

“If I catch the two of you up to some stupid shit in the gym…”

“Then you’ll do exactly as I did when I caught you.” Mikasa said calmly, slipping into her seat. “Right?”

“Tch.” Levi put on his seatbelt with a vicious click, his ears reddening. “Fucking brat.”

Mikasa simply smirked and looked out the window, feeling like a balloon of joy had expanded in her chest. For the first time ever, she understood why fictional characters sometimes randomly burst into song. She got it.

Levi reversed the car smoothly from their parking spot, then glanced at her.

“Ice cream?”

“Hell, yes!” Mikasa laughed, and finally, for the first time that day, Levi smirked.

All in all, an excellent day, Mikasa mused happily. 10/10, would faint again. 

#snk #eremika #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #eren x mikasa #snk fanfiction #i did like the bare minimum of research for the medical stuff so i could be hopelessly wrong #if you have mikasa's symptoms pls go to an actual doctor thank #also my need for an ackerconversation in canon has reflected here i think #poor levi lol #also yall know who mikasa caught levi with right? right??? #just have a looksie down in my blog if you're wondering :) #asks #delivras

[chronicbatfictioner]

A Real Boy - Chapter 16

"This is unacceptable. You were supposed to stay in Gotham to get your degree! Not to... frolic with Bruce Wayne, of all people! That-- that... oaf!"

Tim cringed, not even bothered to try to hide it. Dad could be vicious and petty and would get vicious and petty against those he viewed as "of a different caste" than his. Never mind Bruce and the Wayne family in general ought to have been of a higher proverbial caste than his. Or that it was Wayne Enterprises' jet that had brought Tim there, instead of having to pay for commercial airlines.

Sometimes Tim wondered how is it his mom, who was a member of one of Gotham's founding families, could tolerate his Dad. And then he remembered what Jason told him, offhandedly, out of the blue at the San Francisco islet: "She needed to spawn a strong one. He has good genes and magickal bloodlines."

Evidently, his mom was using Jack Drake more than the other way around.

Either way, Tim found himself looking at Dana Winters, Dad's new wife, for help. Dad was starting the same spiel as he did a few weeks ago, demanding that Tim should transfer his credits to Central City university and move there.

"He has a lot of experience in running a major network of companies, Jack. As much of a 'brute' that he is, he has quite a stellar business brain." Dana remarked.

"He also has a really massive library in his Manor. I've been learning a lot in there." Tim added, skipping the 'by assimilation' part of the 'learning'. Jason was the one who has been using the Wayne Manor's library extensively to the point where Tim would automatically go to the library whenever he couldn't instantly find Jason. Said methods of 'assimilation' might or might not include Tim falling asleep to Jason reciting 16th century manuscript of something in its original Saxony language, or muttering to himself while trying to decipher a Meso-American hieroglyph. But Tim definitely wasn't going to mention it.

He was starting to regret complying with Dad's demand of coming over in the middle of the week. Not only he would merely be able to spend a single night, Dad would think that his lack of time to stay was impolite; even if he'd said that he has classes to attend the next day.

Jason, too, was restless. He fiddled endlessly with the notebook he has with him, with a ton of hieroglyphic god-knows-what that he'd been scribbling on. Still, his restlessness had served as a distraction for Dad, and expert in Meso-American hieroglyphs.

"Look, Mr Drake. I need your best approximation of what this means," Jason interrupted. "It's... if it is what I think it is, then we need to get outta here." Jason said.

Jack Drake sighed exasperatedly. "What, praytell, is more important than my son?" he groused, but looked at Jason's scribbles, anyway. "Look, it's just a part of the Mayan apocalypse prophecy; you know? The one that was said going to happen in 2012 and did not happen? It's nearly a decade after 2012... anyway, see this? This is probably part of the Mayan calendar, like, the postscript note or something." he replied gruffly.

Jason's blank glare was a little frightening. Okay, no, a lot frightening because Tim has never seen Jason quite so intent and yet quite so scary at the same time. When he finally blinked, he turned to Dana and commanded, "get your kid outside. Now."

Dana blinked. "What...?" she asked. But Jason was not taking arguments.

"Get out, now!! All of you!!" he barked the order, grabbing Tim by the scruff of his shirt and nearly bodily tossed Tim out of the kitchen door.

"What is this! I do not allow strangers to--" Jack's protests was cut short by the sudden shake of the ground. Jason barely managed to grab Dana and Maya, her three-year old daughter; and propelled the three of them through the bay window of the living room, just as the ground shook violently - up and down, side to side, throwing Tim to the ground a few feet away from Dad. The shaking was barely stopping when he heard a loud screeching sound. Tim looked up just in time to see the house's front wall cracked and started careening toward the ground.

--toward where Jason, Dana, and Maya were on the ground, waiting for the tremors to stop. Within the split second, Tim realized that he couldn't simply evaporate the wall - Dad would have been more suspicious of Jason if Tim had done that. Instead, he rearranged the brick wall, wooden windowsills, and the density of the glass of the bay window that Jason had kicked to go through, and pulled the molecules so that the three of them would be right within the sills as it fell. Sensing what Tim was planning, Jason drew his legs in to a crouch over Dana and the toddler.

The remaining glass broke softly and safely around Jason, and the wall slammed to the ground with a loud slam, followed by Dad's scream. His scream, however, was muted by the screams of the other people on the other houses along the street. He realized why just as the tremors actually stopped. Missouri did not come with earthquakes, unlike San Francisco. Even if Gotham was not prone to quakes, either, Tim has experienced quite a few 5-ers on the Richter scale in San Francisco, and was largely unfazed. Keystone, however, had no experience of quakes, and everyone panicked.

He could see the fires starting along the street, and was on his feet before he could even think of what he was supposed to do. "Jason!" he called, "find the gas mains!" he yelled as he concentrated on changing the cooking gases around him to oxygen. He could change them all, but if the origin of the gases were combustible, he could be spending all day here. His powers did not lend into changing the whole thing at once, but as he saw them starting to waft through the air. There would be a lot of people still having their stoves on, the time being morning and people were only starting to do breakfasts.

"Times like this one, I wish there are more people eating cereals..." Jason groused. "Gas main around the corner of the street. You going there?"

"Get me there now. There will be a little spark when I'm gone, just hope we're quick enough.." before Tim even finished, Jason already teleported him to the underground gas mains. "Great, it's next to the powers. Shut that thing down manually and I'll..." he commanded as he turned the gas main's valve for the street. It took several tries, and eventually Jason's help, for it to finally turn.

Tim slumped on the ground. "Oh, goddess... what the hell just happened."

"Mayan's apocalypse prediction came with latitudes and longitudes, and they're not originated in the South Americas." Jason replied, pushing the manhole cover to the side using a little magick, and Tim nearly applauded his foresight - there would be a lot of questions if the actual city services people come and found out that the gas mains and power were shut off. "That was at least an eight, was it? Well, it was right there in the prediction, and the latitudes-longitudes that pointed out to Springfield, which is only a few dozen miles away from here."

"Oh no..." Tim groaned. "There's... there's... got to be a major disaster situation there..."

"Yeah, but the first responders were already coming 'round here. We better get out manually, I think..." Jason suggested as his wings started to dissipate.

"Yeah, they... at least Dad probably won't be excited to see magickal person in his vicinity." Tim agreed.

"At least he's consistent, even if said magickal person - persons, plural - have just saved his wife and kid." Jason scowled lightly.

"There's more than just the quake, isn't it? Missouri hasn't gotten any major quakes since like, the 18-hundreds... and the New Madrid fault line hasn't moved since." Tim said as Jason helped him out of the manhole. There was a distant wailing of the first responders' sirens, and no one seemed to notice two boys crawling out of a manhole. "Plus, if it's... you said the epicenter is in Springfield?" Tim paused.

"Yes, and it's not the fault line. There's... something coming out of the lake that caused the tremors. That's what the Mayans 'apocalypse' prophecy was about. A warning that on this day, in certain place, a creature of destruction would come out." Jason explained.

"I gotta tell Bruce..." Tim breathed. "Or Clark. I mean, what can I do against a creature of destruction?"

"Right," Jason replied absently as Tim pulled out his cellphone and thanking his habits of not taking out cellphones while on the dining table. Said dining table in Dad's house is probably flattened by now, along with Dad's cellphone. After telling Bruce of Jason's warning, he turned to find Jason already starting to assist some of the other residents.

He checked on the jet, just in case, and to his relief, found that the airport was generally unharmed and the jet could still fly if needed. Besides, Carol Ferris, the pilot of the jet and the main pilot that Bruce would hire for his jets; told him that, "it takes more than a quake to stop me from flying, Mister Tim," subtly reminding Tim that she - like Hal Jordan - wears a magickal ring and could fly at will, with or without a jet.

Then he turned to his Dad's neighbors, trying to help wherever he could. There were some people who were fast enough to get to the fire extinguishers in their respective cars - even ones who broke car windows to get the extinguishers. There were those who weren't fast enough and watched forlornly as the firemen tried their best to control fires in half-dozen houses. Tim couldn't control fires, but he could control the element around the fires. But to do that, he would have to be undisturbed. So he went into Dad's car and started concentrating to draw out oxygen from the houses with less-big fires, just so they could survive while the firemen worked on the bigger blazes.

It took just an hour for the firemen from three trucks to control the blazes; thankfully. Tim was absolutely spent, nonetheless, and was half asleep when Dad finally found him.

"Oh my god... can you please not be so lazy and help me out a little, here? I'm trying to pack up all the necessary things from the house so we can go to a hotel!" he scowled. Behind him, Jason gave him a knowing smile.

"I'll help you out, Mr Drake," he offered.

"Ugh, why can't you be a little more physical like Jason here, Tim? But alright, come!" he ordered. "Dana, stash Maya in the car! And then find us a hotel, will you? I don't think this place is livable until I can get it fixed."

Dana's daughter, Maya, crawled into the car and cooed at Tim. She might not be Jack's daughter, and was born just before her mother and Jack got married, but she thought of Tim as her own. "Timmy," she called.

"Hey, Maya. Come, just... I don't think we can fit your seat in here..." Tim commented.

"I don't think anyone would be fickle enough to account for kids' carseats in times like these, Tim." Dana replied, smiling as she slid in. "Good job on the fires," she added, winking.

Tim chuckled, remembering Barbara's comment on Dana being a healer. Dana would have known of Tim's abilities even before she wedded Jack. "I tried, at least there is no fatality..." he told her.

"Not here, I don't think. There are... some losses elsewhere." Dana said. "How's Wayne's jet?" she suddenly asked.

"Yeeeah, I don't think we'll get hotel rooms either, huh?" Tim smirked. "It's fly-able. The pilot is... a very confident fly girl." he added.

"Okay, I'll pretend to try and then you two help me convince your dad that we gotta get out of here, yeah?"

"I don't think he'll need much convincing..." Tim pointed to the numerous plumes of smoke in the distance. "Dad is afraid of fires. He's-- when mom was killed, they were in a literal ring of fire."

"Oh," Dana gasped. "I'm sorry, Tim..."

Tim shrugged. "Don't be, at least not at this point. That should make it easy for us to convince him to pack up just the important things and get outta here."

As Tim predicted, Dad turned very pale when he saw the rising smokes. "I--" he gulped. "is--" he continued, but couldn't bring himself to finish.

"We can go to Gotham, dad," Tim said quietly. "I've checked and the Wayne Jet that brought me here can fly out of here."

"Point me to the airport." Jack commanded, the fake bravado was mocked by the tremble in his voice. Tim simply inputted the direction to the private airport - a Wayne Enterprises corporate airstrip - and nodded slightly at Dana's thumb's up.

At the very least, his family would be safe from whatever creature Jason referred to. Even if the ironic safe place being Gotham.

#Tim Drake #Jason Todd #JayTim #Dana Winters #Jack Drake #No-capeAU #Magi!AU #Carol Ferris

[churchill01bland-blog]

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One in all our friendly, useful representatives is standing by to answer any questions you might have and that will help you get began. Additionally it is one of the inexpensive areas on the East coast. Due to this fact, choosing one that's near to your present residence in line with your funds could be easier and faster. That explains why Cartwright was here one humid September afternoon, at a fair of carnival rides, funnel cakes, and monster trucks. Right here is the answer: request a free estimate, receive a assured competitive price, guide your pickup and supply dates, and have us pack your gadgets to be prepared for cross border transfer. Have a neighborhood move with the technology and efficiency of a protracted distance transfer, and a global transfer with an area contact and devoted attention. Q: Is the associated fee estimate for my transfer correct? There is not any question that managing a move will be difficult and time-consuming, however don't neglect your pet throughout this specific time. And that increases over time.

To save cash, time and energy looking for the most effective moving company at the bottom attainable value, consider getting the help of a movers lead service. Fancying himself a visionary, Elijah spends his free time reading, skateboarding, boxing, writing, and bodybuilding. We are a fully licensed, bonded and insured moving company and we're here to assist on your problem free relocation. So I do not find something more to comment right here. His numbers certainly would have been even more spectacular. You should have a funds determine and a listing of tasks with you to communicate to the company what your needs are. Regardless of once you want transferring service, our moving company in Philadelphia, PA is at all times a name away from you. From household shifting services to a vast vary of economic services, we will do it all as a full-service company. When i watch a industrial lately (which is a rare happening) or see a print ad--either in a magazine or on the internet--I am a skeptic about its claims.

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