#the coast guard academy

[general-knowledge-quiz]

Rakesh Pal has been appointed as the 25th Director General of the Indian Coast Guard (ICG). He is an alumnus of the Indian Naval Academy and joined Indian Coast Guard in January 1989. He has undergone professional specialization in Gunnery & Weapons Systems at Indian Naval School Dronacharya, Kochi, and an Electro-Optics Fire Control Solution course from the United Kingdom. The Officer holds the recognition of being the First Gunner of ICG.

#indian coast guard #Director General Indian Coast Guard #Rakesh Pal #Naval Academy

[manasastuff-blog]

Manasa Defence Academy: BEST DEFENCE ACADEMY OF INDIA

           In today's world, education has become an essential component of an individual's life. With the growing competition, it has become necessary to have a well-planned strategy and guidance to excel in the field of government jobs. In such a scenario, Manasa Defence Academy has emerged as the best academy in India, providing the best coaching for IIT JEE and defence exams including SSB training i.e. Group Discussion Tips, Screening test etc. and many competitive exams providing state government and central government jobs.

Manasa Defence Academy was established with a vision to be the best college and a best military training institute for the students who aspire to pursue a career in the field of defence and engineering. The academy offers a wide range of courses and programs for the students, including IIT JEE coaching, NDA (National defence academy) training, AIRFORCE, ARMY, NAVY and COAST GAURD training, SSB Coaching, and much more.

The academy's faculty consists of highly experienced and qualified professionals who have years of experience in teaching and training students for various competitive exams and entrance exams. The academy also offers a well-structured and comprehensive study material that covers all the necessary topics and concepts required for the exams.

Manasa Defence Academy's unique teaching method includes a blend of theoretical and practical knowledge, physical training, and personality development training, which helps the students in enhancing their overall performance and confidence. The academy also conducts regular mock tests, practice sessions, and doubt clearing sessions, which help the students in identifying their weak areas and working on them.

One of the most significant advantages of joining Manasa Defence Academy is the personalized attention that each student receives. The academy has a limited number of students in each batch, which enables the faculty to focus on the individual needs and requirements of the students.

Manasa Defence Academy also provides you a military lifestyle and discipline to enhance your physical fitness requirements and develop in you the required officers’ qualities.

The academy has an excellent track record of producing successful candidates in various competitive exams and entrance exams. The academy's alumni have secured top ranks in various competitive exams which make it the best academy in India, for providing best training for government jobs.

Here's a table comparing other academies and Manasa Defence Academy.

FEATURES

OTHERS

MANASA DEFENCE ACADEMY

EXPERIENCED FACULTY

YES

YES

PERSONALIZED ATTENTION

NO

YES

LIMITED STUDENTS PER BATCH

NO

YES

UNIQUE TEACHING METHODOLOGY

NO

YES

MILITARY TRAINING (MENTAL,PHYSICAL & PERSONALITY DEVELOPMENT)

NO

YES

SSB TRAINING ( GROUP DISCUSSION, INTERVIEW, SCREENING TEST)

YES

YES

EXCELLENT TRACK RECORD

VARIES

YES

REPUTATION IN MARKET

VARIES

THE BEST ACADEMY OF INDIA

As seen in the table, Manasa Defence Academy stands out in many aspects. Additionally, Manasa Defence Academy has an excellent track record of producing successful candidates in various competitive exams i.e. NDA, IIT-JEE, INDIAN AIRFORCE, INDIAN ARMY, INDIAN NAVY, INDIAN COASTGUARD, SSC, SSB etc. and more.

In conclusion, Manasa Defence Academy is the best academy in India for IIT JEE and defence training, providing the best coaching and training to the students. So, if you are aspiring to pursue a career in defence or engineering, Manasa Defence Academy is the perfect place for you to start your journey.

For more Details-

Call us: [phone]

Reach us: www.manasadefenceacademy.in

#nda #navy #army #airforce #coast guard #ssc #defence academy in India

[izzafizza]

#u.s navy ship #military #us army #army history #naval academy #coast guard #battlestations #amazing

[occamstfs]

Coast Guard Compensation

Here's another military TF, delinquent disrespects the Coast Guard and finds definitely sub-standard civilian processing -Occam

Marcus was being issued a simple ticket for drinking while driving a boat. That would’ve been the end of it if he had just shut his mouth. Unfortunately his brother was not quick enough to prevent him from tearing into the officer. Before he even begins to return to his boat Marcus is shouting at the officer swearing that he shouldn’t even have the authority to issue tickets. That he knows better than some doofus elinstee. He tosses the ticket into the sea as he continues to shout, “this is just bullshit dude! You’re just taking it out on us to feel like a man huh? Couldn’t even do well enough in boot camp to make the Army so you’ll make it all our problem!”

Ensign Harrison’s eyes followed the litter as it blew into the ocean before returning to the still shouting man. Harrison’ smirks as he approaches Marcus who despite being at least a foot shorter continues on his tirade. Jacob has seen his brother get this fired up before but nothing like this. He could only gawk as brother continued to shout vitriol as the officer approached to tower over him, Jacob could not even think to move or intervene. 

Harrison lifts Marcus by the collar and simply states, “on top of driving while intoxicated you have also littered into the fine blue sea, and verbally assaulted an officer. Under the authority invested in me by the US Coast Guard I am going to take you back to the station.” Marcus rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to retort but is tossed like a sandbag into the USCG boat. The Ensign briefly scowls at Jacob, who despite being sure this is not appropriate, can not bring himself to take any action against the man who is by all intents kidnapping his brother. 

Having established his dominance he returns to his boat to accost the problem at hand. He speeds away in his boat hearing nothing but the boat cutting through the wind and crashing through the waves. The toss seems to have knocked Marcus unconscious, to the sick pleasure of the man driving the boat. Though as they near shore, he comes to and begins anew the derision of his captor. He groans out a “you fuckin’ glorified beach cop…” To which Harrison just smirks in retort, grabbing the only barely conscious Marcus into his patrol car and starts driving back to the station.

He stares at Marcus in the rearview mirror and once he sees the glimmer of conscious return he finally offers a reply, “you don’t know what yer talkin’ about kid.” Marcus squints his eyes at the officer driving his car, knowing something weird was occurring. Something so far out of his hands was happening to him and he needed to use everything in his power to have some curve on the ball. The dick in front of him was arresting him against his will and he was not going to go down without a fight. He is going to use the only weapon afforded to him and use his mouth.

“Really, you must’ve done pretty bad to flunk out of the naval academy right? Their best guys are absolute dullards and you didn’t even make it to step one I bet.” Ensign Harrison’s scowl grows deeper as he pulls the car over. Marcus, refusing to let the chance slip by, turns it up even more. If he can get Harrison to open his door he just needs to bolt. “Oooh scary, bet you feel like a big guy huh! You got a five foot flat guy ten years younger than you in your backseat. I bet you’re just fantasizing about what you can do to me, you fashy pig! You fuckin-” Harrison clears his throat interrupting as Marcus sees veins start to bulge out of his neck and his eyes darken in the rear view mirror. He starts the car going once more and says, “think it’s best if you apologize kid. Ain’t nuthin’ good gonna come out of you talkin’ shit.”

Marcus scrambles to think what his next move should be. Obviously, fashy pig he may be, but Harrison was correct in that the only rational thing to do would be apologize. Harrison even wants to, but any time he even starts to open his mouth to do so his entire throat goes dry and his head burns hot. It distracts him. It angers him. He was going to? What was he? No, he certainly wasn’t going to apologize. To the asshole who ruined his fishing trip, absolutely not.

Harrison’s eyes continue to glower as he exits the car to retrieve Marcus, who in turn observes everything he can about the Coast Guard Station before he’s pulled out. Seeing cameras he starts to hatch a plan before he hears the door slam open and the thought of Harrison disrespecting their equipment is suddenly the only thing in his mind. Jesus that oaf, he’s making them look like even more of a joke than they are. Harrison’s face burns red as he reads nothing but a look of derision in response to this blatant attempt at intimidation.

Marcus quickly tries to escalate, taunting the trooper, “we’re on camera now fash! What’re you gonna do huh, hope you’re ready to-“ He was cut off as a hand is quickly thrust on his neck, a move he was all too familiar with, though he would vastly prefer to be on the other side. He struggles out a performative moan as the hand grows tighter moving up towards his jaw, before breaking out into coughing laughter.

True rage appears in Ensign Harrison’s eyes as he pushes Marcus’ head down into the seat, spitting on his face before letting him go. Still leaning over Marcus, he talks through his teeth, “That’s it you fucker. Hope your little jokes were worth it. You’ve had every chance and you’ve run your fuckin’ mouth. Clearly someone needs to set you straight.”

Finally getting out a sentence without being interrupted, he looks to see an expression of hunger on Marcus’ spit-covered face. Not what he expected and certainly not what he wanted, and as he glances further down he sees an even less pleasant sign growing in Marcus’ swim shorts as a boner swiftly becomes impossible to miss. As Marcus regains his breath he chokes out a “that’s all you got?” To which Harrison begins to feel a heat in his own crotch that is met with both self-derision and an eagerness for the kid to be gone.

Starting to feel out of his depth, despite ostensibly being in charge, Harrison leads Marcus in, taking great care to hide the growing cock in his uniform, which Marcus neglects to attempt, letting his own swing in his shorts. Upon getting inside he leads Marcus to an unoccupied office and locks the door behind him, demanding he stay there and keep his hands off everything while Harrison finishes processing him.

This was beyond irresponsible, but he cannot stand being near the delinquent one second longer, and something about Marcus now makes him think that it’s fine if he’s in this office. Marcus rolls his eyes and agrees though as soon as the lock turns his hands are in a desk drawer. Before he snoops though he wonders about how empty the station is, weird that he didn’t see a single other soldier right? Must be why the pig was trying to flex so hard on him and his brother, trying to hide what a pathetic joke this operation is.

He also briefly thinks about making a break for it, before remembering that Harrison has a gun on his belt. He hasn’t pulled it on him yet but surely as soon as he got the chance to shoot at a runner he’d probably blow his load. He rolls his eyes thinking how Harrison must be compensating. He’s sure all soldiers are, anyone so obsessed with guns and power clearly has something going on.

As he continues this line of thought though, he can’t help but feel that, well, but wouldn’t he want a gun too? Just to have that power? Or just in case? As he thinks about the weight of a gun in his hands he finally remembers that he is rooting around in a desk, as his hands find purchase on what can only be a weighty wallet. He smirks as he palms it thinking of the schmuck Navy flunkee whose credit card is gonna buy him and his brother lunch once he’s out of here. Marcus starts to go through it looking for anything particularly juicy to nab. He hunches over the wallet, conspicuously hiding something, though no one is there to see him.

He shoves the cash into his pocket and finds a license, his eyes glaze over as he tries to look at the name and photo of the man. Not that he cares really though, soldiers are all the same. He continues to hunch and as he does so his back begins growing wider, as if he’s willing it to hide his deeds better. His button up starts to get in the way of his movements so he starts to unbutton it as he feels an itch on the face. He realizes, god, he never wiped that pig’s spit off his face.

His shirt now hanging unbuttoned on his wider shoulders, he raises his arm to wipe whatever surely steroid-filled dried spit remains on his face and finds nothing but a face that is decidedly rougher than it should be. Day on the beach must have been pretty rough on his skin. Maybe he did overdo it today? I mean what was he doing drinking on the job anyway. He pauses before correcting himself, fishing, he was just fishing today. He groans and spins in the desk chair, fuck he needs to get back out there. This room is giving him a headache or something.

It’s kinda hot in here too? Bet that fucker turned up the heater to torture me. Marcus shoves the wallet in his back pocket and goes to stand and inspect other parts of the room before immediately falling over. As he lies on the floor his sweaty chest grows even larger, his traps expand to strain the now unbuttoned shirt as sweaty pecs force themselves into existence pressing into the cold tile floor. Then greater than anything else he feels the wallet pressing against his ass. He might not have noticed how much his upper body has grown, but his legs certainly have and if they want to support it, they need to grow.

He moans to himself. His thighs fill his swim trunks enough to make one wonder how he could even get them on. His ass grows enough to make it clear that the only way they’re coming off is to be ripped off. His bulge on the other side endeavors to make headway to this end as his cock forces its way down his pant leg and his balls swell over twice their size trying to keep up the testosterone production this body demands.

He struggles to his feet, making careful movements as to not burst open his pants then and there. Not to be deterred from his M.O. he hobbles over to a bookshelf and continues to investigate. Marcus sees a bunch of dusty tomes that feel vaguely familiar, though he of course would never want nor need to read whatever droll garbage lies inside of them. Finally he remembers just how bizarre his situation is. What the fuck is he doing? He’s literally being processed for an arrest, or whatever these knock-off cops are gonna do, and he’s just gonna steal some actually important guy’s wallet?

Neglecting to inspect how knows the importance of whoever’s office this is, he instead trains his eyes on the bookshelf. Marcus finds himself eye level with the highest shelf which he knows was not possible when he walked in. He would’ve had to jump to grab any of these books and now he can reach them flat footed. He starts to look down and see just what is happening but as he does there’s another hot flash and he leans against the shelf in pain. God! This fuckin’ place, needs to fix the fuckin’ AC or something. He pushes back against the wall not noticing he stands even taller now as a breeze wicks sweat off his ever more exposed midriff and torso and he sees a conspicuously not dusty manual.

Weird, he’s up to date on all his regulations yeah? He pulls it off, knocking dust loose from the surrounding tomes, causing him to sneeze, his neck bursting wide enough to tear shirt open were it not unbuttoned. His vocal chords thicken as he clears his throat and returns to sit down at the desk. He opens the book wondering what’s so special about this manual, causing a picture to fall to the floor.

He laughs as he grabs it and finds it is a compromising picture of Ensign Harrison. He smirks wondering just what he has stumbled into as he finds himself absorbed into the image. His eyes can’t help but trace the strong curves and powerful muscles of his, the Ensign’s body. His cock gets the messages and finally grows enough to tear a hole in the side of his swim trunks and hsi free hand immediately goes to paw it. God, he needs to see Harrison like this in real life. Drool begins to pool in his mouth as he continues to drink in the image. It spills down his chin as he sees the look of begging in Harrison's eyes, when there is suddenly a scuffle at the door.

Mark takes the second he has to hide the photograph and rip his hand off his painfully erect dick, as Harrison bursts into the room. Nonplussed as ever he looks with a sneer at Marcus with no reaction that he looks any different than when he was booked. Under his breath he complains that Mark’s clothes are far too tight for any respectable man before. He can’t hide the blush on his face though as he asks Mark to button up his shirt before getting to the real purpose he came in, “You didn’t give me your ID uh, kid?” His eyes glaze over at the incongruity of calling the man before him kid and he blushes as Mark sneers at him in return. Raising his sharpening jaw in disdain he produces the I.D. of the Coast Guard officer in his pocket without a second thought and offers it to Harrison.  

The Ensign goes to grab it, sniffing the air as he does so and making a clear face of discomfort. Marcus doesn’t notice how he smells, not his problem, if lesser men are bothered so be it. But Harrison makes haste to leave the room, on his way out saying “You better not get your stink on the furniture, ki-, uh, Sir.” Angry at himself for calling that delinquent sir he slams the door and locks it once more, leaving Mark alone in the room, his erection pulsing even larger at being called Sir.

That ball buster needs to learn his fuckin’ place, Mark thinks, I’m in charge here after all. Or? Hm. I mean I pay his wage right, tax-payers and all. Something like that. He rubs his scratchy, sharper jaw as he feels his clothes near their limit. He pauses to decide which drawer to raid next. He settles on the top left drawer and as soon as he does he slams it open only to jump back in shock, his body flexing and tensing as he hears something heavy loudly slam into the back of the open drawer. His biceps rip apart his sleeves as reaches into the drawer and feels ice cold carbon steel. His left arm burns as tattoos he doesn’t remember getting begin to stain his whole arm. He pulls out a gun, His Gun, and begins to inspect it.

He feels a regulation mustache push out of his upper lip, the one he’s always had right? He feels the burn of more ink appear on his torso as it begins to grow shredded. He feels the lengthy hair cut he has always been proud of pull into his head, leaving nothing but a high and tight that can only display the void of a personality that the military demands. He feels the weight of the gun in his hands not noticing as his clothes begin to reform around him. Good thing he got those stupid dress clothes off, he’s at work. He needs to be in uniform.

The scraps of his dress shirt cling back to him and turn into the same respectable military green of any branch. He feels a nylon shirt cling to his sweaty pecs as a thicker top slides over his biceps, struggling to keep them contained. His attention is drawn, as it often is, straight to his cock as he feels his torn swim trunks grow into silkies that are only just able to hide his impressive bulge. He is able to stuff it down the leg of his trousers as they form around his impossibly thick thighs, though even a passing observer would be able to see the beer can running down his leg. His pants are already custom made to fit his ass and thighs, it’s not like he can, or even wants to, hide his masculinity any more. He is thankful though that his, may as well be kevlar, boxers keep him from constantly staining his pants with pre.

Still rubbing his cock through his pants, he releases the unloaded magazine of the gun and moans as wrinkles begin to form under his steely eyes. He absolutely fills his pants with pre and nearly finishes the job before there is another knock at the door. He groans as his body grows once more in agitation, his veins bulging out in aggression as a definitely not regulation beard pushed out of his jaw. But he’s in charge here. He’ll get it back to reg as soon as those fuckers start giving him some respect.

Before waiting for an answer Harrison bursts in, preparing to continue his little power trip, though as he sees the man sitting at the desk, gun drawn and more importantly now in uniform, he can do nothing but salute and shout “Captain, uh! Sir!”

Absolutely not ready or willing to set him at ease Mark gets up and begins to walk over. Captain huh, he likes that. The Captain walks up to Harrison and starts to tease his Ensign. His already deeper voice grows gravelly and gruff as he rubs his thumb across the saluting soldier's jaw, “Now Harry, I don’t believe I gave you permission to enter, did I?” Harrison gulps as The Captain continues, “Now are you here now on business, or is there something else I can do for you?” Harrison glances down to the impossible bulge in his captain’s pants, causing Mark to smirk and all-too-familiarly launch his hand to his Ensign’s jaw. He forces Harrison to make eye contact with him. He gulps once more as he hears the fabric stretch in The Captains pants and his face grows red. He shuts his eyes, feeling his own cock instantly surge into an erection. “I- uh, there was a call, sir!”

The Captain’s look of hunger changes slightly and he grins, “a call hm? At ease, Soldier.” Harrison collapses against the door, his eyes still closed, lest he cum on the spot from seeing The Captain in front of him. Mark then leans over him to whisper to him, his breath tickling the neck of the Ensign, “Now, why don’t we go show these fuckin’ delinquents just what business the US Coast Guard means hm?” Harrison’s eyes open as his body convulses, cumming as he slides down the door, moaning in shame. In turn The Captain stands and prepares to go gather some more recruits, the station has been awfully quiet recently. Just him and pathetic little Harrison, they could use some fresh blood, which he will inevitably gather at whatever bonfire or fishing crew they are about to raid...

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #military tf #muscle tf

[ltwilliammowett]

Here is Bilgewater, the mascot of the US Coast Guard Academy, circa 1944. He’s modeling the new wartime grey cadet uniform.

#naval history #ship's cat sunday #bilgewater #baby #mid 20th century #age of steam

[klbwriting]

Not Romeo, Not Juliet

Chapter 2: Great Stage of Fools

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: bullying

Summary: Jason goes to auditions and at Dick's urging, tries to make friends, it doesn't turn out well

When we are born we cry that we are come / To this great stage of fools

— KING LEAR, ACT 4 SCENE 6

               Jason had hoped to just coast through this theater class.  He would get some side part like Fortinbras or Marcellus, in fact he was auditioning for those parts, not working super hard on getting anything right, just knowing he would be in the show and have a group of people who, so far, weren’t that bad.  The other seniors, two guys and a girl, were alright and made him feel welcome as soon as he joined their row in the auditorium prior to auditions. 

               “You don’t look the theater type,” one of the guys, Jackson, said.  Jason glanced over at him and shrugged as the other guy, Matt, muttered something about Luke Evans.  “Ya, but Luke Evans is British, that’s why does theater.”

               “My guardian signed me up, thought it would help me mellow out,” Jason said, trying to make conversation.  This whole situation sucked but he might as well make the best of it, that’s what his therapist was always telling him anyway.  He was reading over the few lines he was doing for Marcellus, ignoring the eyes of the girl, Chelsea, on him. 

               “What is with the white hair?” she asked finally.  The guys stared at her.  “Do you die it like that?”

               “No, was in an accident over the summer, turned some hair white,” he said, very practiced in that response after the first couple days of school.  He was getting a little tired of it honestly and couldn’t wait until everyone just forgot about him being new.  She nodded and turned back to her book, throwing looks at him as she tried to read her lines. 

               “Jason Todd, Matt Peters,” called the theater director.  Jason and Matt stood, going to the stage.  “Ready for Marcellus and Horatio, Act 1, Scene 1, lines 70-90.”  Jason brought the script up, checked where that was and put it down.  He already knew the lines, had read Hamlet quite a few times, and didn’t want to bother holding the book.  Matt started to look nervous, still holding up the script to read.  As the scene started Jason felt himself slipping away.  He was someone else, he didn’t have to be weird, zombie, ex-vigilante Jason keeping a lid on his emotions and his anger.  He could be this guard, seeing ghosts and just trying to get by without losing him mind.  Ya, he could do that. 

               “Good now, sit down, and tell, he that knows, Why this same strict and most observant watch…” he started.  The words flowed out of him, and he found himself really getting into it.  When the scene was stopped, he stood quietly, watching Matt eye him curiously.

               “Where did you come from?” he whispered to him as they walked off the stage.  Jason shrugged.

               “Homeschool,” he answered.  He sat back in his chair, pulling out Frankenstein, and starting to read that.  He could hear the others discussing him but tried to ignore it.  Then he heard them mention someone named YN and he stilled, thinking back to the alley and her bandaging his hand.  Not the same person probably, but the name just sprung her face into his mind, and he had to shake himself to get back to the present. Weird. 

               “Hey Jason,” Chelsea called.  He looked over and saw them all facing him.  Great, ganging up on him, lovely.  “So this show is going to be in the citywide high school Shakespeare competition in December, and we were thinking of going to check out the competition, Gotham Academy is having an open mic night fundraiser for their theater program on Friday night, how about you come with us?”  Jason was about to say that sounds terrible when he thought about Dick that morning.

               “You should make some friends, it wouldn’t be so bad to have to hang out here if you invited people over,” he had said over breakfast.  “Plus, you’ve never really been allowed to have friends since you were like 10, why not make some now?”  Jason had to admit he was right, once you became Robin it was hard to be friends with anyone, you just worried about them finding out, or them getting hurt.  He wasn’t Robin anymore, he was just Jason, and that thought, being just Jason with no friends, did kind of suck.  So fine, why not?

               “Sure, what time and where we meeting?” he asked.  Matt handed him a crumbled flyer that read Gotham Academy café, Friday night, 8PM.  “Just meet you guys there?”

               “Yes, it’ll be very fun,” Chelsea said.  They were dismissed, the roles would be posted on Monday.  The other seniors walked him out where he saw Dick waiting for him at the car.  “Is that your dad?”

               “No, that’s my older brother,” he said, heading over to meet him.  Dick let him in the car and then joined him to drive.  “Keeping tabs on me, mom?”

               “Yes, I am,” Dick said honestly.  “How did auditions go?”

               “Fine, met a couple people, we’re going to some open mic night at Gotham Academy.  Something about a Shakespeare competition?” Jason said, leaning his head back to the chair. 

               “Good, friends, friends will keep you out of fights clubs,” Dick mumbled.

               “Not likely.”

               Friday rolled around and Jason was heading out when Dick handed him a tracking device.  He glared and snapped it to his leather jacket.  If he didn’t Dick would just have one implanted anyway.

               “You know that’s fucked up right?  I’m not a puppy,” Jason said, grabbing his book and wallet. 

               “I know, but you’re also prone to not being where you say you’ll be,” he said.  Jason grunted.  One time he sneaks out and suddenly he’s never going to be trustworthy again. 

               “You know, sometimes I wonder if Bruce wouldn’t be better at this,” Jason snapped.  Dick sighed, not saying anything.  Jason knew he should take it back, but he was annoyed now so he just left instead, taking the bike from the other night and heading over to Gotham Academy.  It was still warm in the late August evening and Jason didn’t really want to be inside at some café, so he was pleasantly surprised when he parked and saw chairs set up on a grassy lawn next to the school.  There was a staging area on raised pallets and several people were already seated with coolers and bags of food from local restaurants.  He felt more relaxed knowing that he wasn’t going to be confined to a closed in area with people he didn’t know and probably wouldn’t like. 

               He paid for a ticket and moved among the folding chairs, finding the others from school.  They had two coolers and pulled a water bottle for him from one.  He sat down, not sure what he actually expected.  Seeing YN walk on stage at the beginning of the show wasn’t it though. 

               “Hello everyone, and thank you for coming to our open mic night fundraiser to help fund this year’s Shakespeare competition show ‘MacBeth’,” she said and a round of applause sounded.  He looked around, seeing a decent size crowd there, more than he thought would show up for a theater program.  He clapped at first, then noticed the others weren’t.  He frowned as they shook their heads at him. 

               “What?” he asked as the first act started.  They leaned in close so no one would hear.

               “That is YN, she was runner up for best actress last year for her role in The Tempest, she lost to Amber, she graduated last year, but she also caught Amber screwing one of the judges at the afterparty and told the Gotham City theater council.  Got the award taken away.  I mean, so what if Amber wanted to make sure she would win?  She was winning anyway, YN is not talented,” Jackson explained, glaring over at YN who was sitting off the side of the stage, watching the show, checking her notes every now and then.  Jason just nodded and looked back at them. 

               “Ya, we have a great surprise for her after the show, she’s going to regret being such a bitch last year,” Chelsea said.  Jason frowned but didn’t say anything, just sat back to watch the rest of the show.  Maybe these guys were not who he wanted to be friends with after all.  He sat quietly as they headed for the final act, which was YN.

               “Thank you everyone again for coming, as MC I have the honor of the final performance and I’m taking a request from one of our freshmen ladies who really just wanted some Taylor Swift tonight,” she said.  There was a keyboard setup and she sat down at it, playing some chords to a song Jason didn’t know.  Then she was singing, and Jason wasn’t sure if he ever wanted her to stop.

He was sunshine I was midnight rain

He wanted comfortable

I wanted that pain

               Jason listened, staring at her.  He had never heard this song before, but he doubted anyone sounded as good as YN at it.  She felt these words, felt this heartbreak and Jason could feel it through her.  It was intoxicating and he wanted to talk to her, wanted to know her, wanted to make this heartbreak stop.  He didn’t realize that something was placed in his hand until he saw what the other seniors were doing.

It came like a postcard

Picture perfect, shiny family…

SPLAT

               The water balloon hit her square in the face, breaking and dousing her in Koolaid, the red staining the soft purple shirt she was wearing.  Two more went flying and landed on her body as she stood, eyes focusing on the group from Bludhaven Prep, narrowing at the sight of the water balloon Jason had just realized was in his hand.  He looked down at it and then at her.

               “O shit…” Matt said as YN launched off the stage, giving chase.  Jason was slow to react, diving over people as he followed the other three towards the parking lot.  She caught up to him, tackling him from behind, forearm around his throat.  He ran couple more steps before falling to his knees so he could flip her over his head as gently as he could.  She landed on the grass with an ‘oof’ and stared up at him.  She growled, turning around and getting on her knees.

               “Listen…” he said before the fist hit his face.  He reeled and grabbed her fists before she could throw another.  “Hey!  I didn’t know they were going to do that!”  She glared, looking at the bandage on his hand, the cut on his palm healing slowly, and recognition dawned on her.

               “Jason?  Really?  You’re with those assholes?” she asked.  He shook his head.  “O so you don’t go to Bludhaven prep?”

               “Well ya, I go there now,” he said.

               “And you’re in the theater program?” she asked.

               “Yes, I just auditioned a couple days ago…” he said.

               “And the first thing you do when joining them is all decide to come here and ruin my open mic night?” she asked.  Then she stared at him, remembering where he had seen her, where they met.  “Did you tell them where I live?”  He made a face, confused. 

               “No, I didn’t even know you went to Gotham Academy, I was just here because they said they wanted to check out the competition and I was trying to make friends,” he explained.  You looked around, there was a crowd slowly gathering around you two. 

               “Get out of here, and I never want to see you again,” she said, shoving him back.  He stared at her for a moment, seeing her looking around, her face shifting from humiliated, to hurt, and then, her eyes falling back on him, rage.  “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”  In that moment he wished Dick had left him in the ground.  He knew from her eyes that he had made an enemy for life.  He ran to the parking lot, got on his bike and drove back to the penthouse, unable to get her hurt expression out of his head.    

#jasontodd #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #redhood #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #notromeo

[crystal-ball-of-ow-canon]

REYES TIMELINE UPDATE (no it still doesn't make sense)

Gabriel Reyes enters police force at min. age of 21 (to enter the LAPD you must be 20 yo at time of application and 21 by completion of training, high school education or equivalent or a 2/4 year degree)

So we’ve learned that Gabe graduated college early with a degree in criminology

Spends time as detective

Enlists in the US military 9 years before the Omnic crisis (.... Gabriel is 50 by time of Retribution, 8 years before Recall so he’s 50-51 during Zurich, Jack led OW for ~20 years meaning he got promoted when Gabriel was 30-31, the omnic crisis was roughly 2 years meaning Gabriel was 28-29 when it started, putting him at 20 when he enlisted)

Mustang - military slang term used in the United States Armed Forces to refer to a commissioned officer who began their career as an enlisted service member. A mustang officer is not a temporary or brevet promotion but is a commissioned officer that receives the same pay and command responsibilities as all other commissioned officers.

Mustang officers are generally older than their peers-in-grade who have been commissioned from one of the service academies (such as the United States Merchant Marine Academy, United States Military Academy, United States Air Force Academy, United States Naval Academy, or United States Coast Guard Academy), Officer Candidate School, or the Reserve Officer Training Corps.

This does not entirely make sense to me as enlisting with a college degree fast tracks you into commissioned officer rank, he should no be an “enlisted” soldier (if someone understands us military ranking and enlisting better than me feel free to tell me I’m wrong)

Join the SEP program sometime in his military career

Lose his parents during an assault on LA

get recruited as into Overwatch as Strike Commander

run a covert ops team for 20 years

Meets his wife after the omnic war, have a son

get blown up at ~50

then spend 7 years fucking with Talon

mind you Reaper’s been fucking around for A LOT longer (that’s right bitches his official bio says our Phantom of the Opera’s been kicking for decades and confirmed by Michael Chu to be intentional) [the ow bio previously stated that reaper had been around for decades, it has now been changed]

#so help me blizzard #overwatch #blizzard #gabriel reyes #ow reaper #overwatch reaper #reaper #fuck blizzard i’m canon now #reasons blizzard is not in charge of canon #fuck blizzard i'm canon now

[moosemonstrous]

btw I have now put links to both the tag here and on AO3 in my bio bc I got sick of scrolling through tumblr 😌 Full disclosure - I have met lab people who act like small animals caught in the middle of a road whenever someone dares to enter their domain.

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - sticks and stones

“Can’t promise the spot will stay open,” Kwok tells him apologetically. “But this is good, no? All the young’uns want to go to the academy!”

Robbie would bet his working eyeball that none of the young'uns would be so keen on it after ten minutes alone with Major Brooks. “So I keep hearing,” he mutters. “Sorry for the trouble. I appreciate you taking me on in the first place.”

“Navos is good people,” Kwok shrugs. The Shatterdome functions on a rather opaque network of favours and IOUs. ‘Good people’ seems to be a fairly high praise. Not quite on 'one of ours' level, but high. “You remember me when you are a ranger up in the dome and we’re even.”

And just like that, the transport maintenance chapter of Robbie’s career closes with little fanfare. Technically, he didn’t have to come speak to Kwok in person – his assignment has already gone through and the man would’ve been notified either way. He doesn’t want to leave a bad impression, though. For all he knows, the battery of tests he’d been fast-tracked through the day before will spit out some convoluted reason for why the drift activated on its own and he will be back on the job market before the end of the week. At least there are plenty of positions open – it’s easier to hire someone inside the base and train them up than wait for the paperwork to clear for an experienced worker from the outside.

He remembers the last time he let himself think things were finally turning around, though. He’s not going to make that mistake again.

At least his head is clearer after half an hour in a giant magnet and a full night’s sleep. He’s still unable to hold a conversation with Ivanov without some truly strange thoughts popping up like bubbles on the surface of a pot – the more tired or angry he gets, the harder it is to ignore them. He knew he was going to pay for running on fumes for weeks, and being sedated for nearly three days must have knocked something loose, but. Nothing proper sleep hygiene and some semblance of a routine won’t fix.

Or maybe you’re just noticing stuff, because you ain’t an idiot. Huh? Could it be that?

Or maybe this whole business with The Charger is extremely weird and Robbie should be packing up and running for the hills. Unfortunately, his and Gabe’s permits only work in Hong Kong and when he last checked how much it would be to fly back to US, he had to sit down for a long moment. Even if he was willing to risk taking a ship, where would that leave them? Back on a decimated coast, hoping the wind doesn’t blow over nuclear fallout, and struggling to find enough food for both of them? Queuing at state borders for days or weeks, hoping they’ll be lucky enough to get through on the increasingly stringent rules? Nevada already stopped letting in anyone without immediate family members or sponsors in-state.

Looks like the only way forward is through.

His wristband scans through to the R&D wing now. The soldiers standing guard give Robbie odd looks, but don’t make a move to stop him, so he forces his shoulders down and walks through the armoured door like he knows what he’s doing.

He has no idea what he’s doing. Cho said, ‘come find me in R&D before noon’. There are at least fifteen labs just in this one corridor and none of the doors have anything approaching a comprehensible naming convention. Some signs are just a piece of printer paper with a name scrawled over it, some have the original writing taped over with a KEEP OUT sticker, some seem to list the people working inside. None of those list an Amadeus Cho. It’s half past eleven.

Eventually, Robbie sticks his head in a room labelled ‘HMT DES’. Inside, there are three circular podiums with a mannequin each, showcasing variations of the PPDC hazmat suits. There are three people inside; two hide behind the middle suit as soon as they notice him, leaving the third to fend for herself.

“Can–can I help you?” she asks nervously. She has blue hair and wears fishnet sleeves over a tank top. Not exactly the nerd attire Robbie was expecting.

“I’m looking for Amadeus Cho,” he explains, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. It’s the opposite of what he usually tries to achieve, and she looks like she might be having an anxiety attack. “Any idea where I could find him?”

The girl listens to some frantic whispering from behind the suit. “In the bone lab,” she squeaks. Then blushes so hard Robbie worries she might actually pass out. “Up one floor, two doors down on the left, thankyouseeyoulater.”

What the hell.

He closes the door.

At least with the directions he finds the right room in less than five minutes. The label indeed reads ‘bone lab’. He’s pretty sure the music blasting from the inside is Dead Kennedys. When nobody answers his knocking, he prays he isn’t about to embarrass himself further and pushes the door open.

Cho is standing with his back to him at a table completely covered in… either huge chunks of dirty plaster or – more likely and vastly more disturbingly – massive bone fragments. He’s holding a metal training staff. Before Robbie can call out, he brings it over his head and smashes one of the chunks. When it doesn’t break, he adjusts his grip and tries again. And again. And again, until the greenish-grey surface cracks, at which point he gives out a little whoop.

“Cho?” Robbie risks. The music is too loud, coming from a small bluetooth speaker at the edge of the table. It’s shaped like a cat head. “Hey, Cho!”

Cho whirls around with the staff ready to smack the intruder. He’s wearing thick safety goggles. When he sees Robbie, he drops his weapon to the table with a clatter. “Good news!” he shouts over the music, like it’s normal both for people to just show up in his lab and to start a conversation from the middle. “You don’t have brain cancer!”

Well. That’s definitely good news.

“Was that a–?” He waits for Cho to lower the speaker’s volume through his phone. “Was that a risk?”

Cho is busy checking his messages, frowning. “Did you break my outfitters?”

“What?”

“Hazmat lab?” The frown becomes a grin as he scrolls through a bunch of texts. Robbie feels like that’s worse. “Good job getting on their good side, they might be designing your drivesuit soon.”

“I just–“ Can we get to the point? This kid is missing a screw. “You said to come find you?”

“Yes! Come on, take a–“ he picks up a hammer from an office chair before sliding it towards Robbie. “There you go. I was hoping we could talk without the grown-ups hovering around.”

The grown-ups. Robbie can already feel a headache coming. He takes a seat while Cho leans on the table, untroubled by a pile of skeletal remains inches from his back. “Talk about what?”

Cho scrambles around for a remote and points it at one of the screens at a wall behind Robbie. He flicks through several output sources – one is most definitely a cartoon show Gabe used to love back in L.A. – until he finds what looks like the Hell Charger’s blueprints.

“That,” he says, suddenly serious. “What do you actually know about this jaeger?”

“I already–“

“Yeah, but that can’t be all,” Cho cuts him off impatiently. “I found your records from before your mom took you and your brother off-base. You were eight. Your dad never took you to the hangar?”

Not really. Mama didn’t want you losing fingers in the machinery.

“Wasn’t a place for a kid,” he mumbles. There are records? “I don’t really remember much from that time. Weren’t all the records sealed?”

I told you Ivanov is full of shit.

“Oh, they were,” Cho smirks. “But the last guy in my role had access to some of the classified stuff, and nobody ever revoked it. You know how it is.”

Robbie has no idea how it is. “What do they say?”

“Nothing!” Cho groans. “Just that you and your brother existed. That’s why I’m asking.”

It’s both crushingly disappointing and a perfectly good reason for Ivanov to just say there was no information available. Keep deluding yourself. You’ll see I’m right sooner or later. Still, Robbie doesn’t really have much he can – or wants to – tell Cho.

“Sorry, I can’t help,” he shrugs. “I’m told we left before it was decommissioned. Mom never talked about it.”

Cho lifts up his goggles to his forehead to rub his eyes. He seems frustrated. “No weird work anecdotes? No drama about close calls?” He huffs when Robbie shakes his head. “Great. Another dead end. What did Ivanov tell you?”

“Just that my dad used to be a pilot. That he died killing Daggerblight.”

There is a long moment where Cho watches him like he’s waiting for Robbie to crack and admit to some vast conspiracy. When nothing happens, he blows the air out of his cheeks. “Bummer. Oh well, let’s go find Montesi before she starts wondering where we are.”

Robbie feels the bottom of his stomach freeze over. “We were supposed to be meeting her, too?”

Cho is already walking over to the door. He holds it open with a stupid little bow. “Yep. We better hurry.”

Robbie kind of wants to punch him. He’s beginning to suspect this will be a common occurrence.

#ghost rider pacific rim au #robbie reyes #amadeus cho #the texts amadeus is getting are mostly keysmash followed by 'he cute tho' #amadeus stop bringing up how little he remembers he'll do something stupid about it

[homiesondaweb]

Shout out to @frogs4frogs for finding these picrews for spidersonas for shawties that can't draw! I didn't want to hop on her post with her Sona and rambles for jt, So! I made my own to ramble on lol.

This is Etta Hampton (Ezy) aka The Recluse the one and only Spiderwoman of New Tulsa on earth 9539

Etta is 17 and lives with her Uncle Barney who owns the Urban Stables that most people in North use for boarding. Etta's lived with her Uncle Barney since she was seven after the death of her parents in a mysterious OzCorp Refinery explosion. She has an army of aunties and cousins that live on the East Coast in Old York or DC.

Etta is incredibly smart, soft spoken and caring. She loves ATV or horse trail riding, welding, pottery, and botany. To the point she plans on triple majoring civil engineering, mechanical engineering and sculpture after she graduates from the Parker's Gifted Academy. Her uncle is her biggest supporter for her education and hobby pursuits and gave her her own garage/studio to work in.

Etta is best friends with the fire chief's son Bart Brown (9539's Hobie), the Bugle Radio's owner's daughter Merry Jameson ( 9539's MJ) and Harry O. (9539's green goblin who just causes more chaos over harm, absolutely hate his father) who the world fattest crush on her and she is 100% oblivious to it.

When Etta was 14 she stormed off after an argument with various of her visiting aunties about her "manish" pursuits she took her four-wheeler and went off trail to a forbidden zone that was the contamination and closed of remains of the OzCorp Refinery. While exploring the remains, Etta was bitten by a radioactive Brown Recluse when security guards had cornered her and she was forced to hide in one of the old R&D offices.

She has the usual power set for a spider person: Spidey sense, the ability to stick to walls, super strength and super agility. Along with long sharp nails that are extremely durable and sharpened canines that have a paralytic and necrotic venom. Etta has two specialty abilities: one is to produce different kinds of acid from her hands and apply it to her organic webs to create different kinds of traps or help her to escape. The other is an ability to control her temperature to the point she can send heat waves of energy off her body or stun/shock others with a fridged touch.

As the Recluse her biggest foes are Cyclone Sandman, Cotton Mouth, and King Scorpion. She has a half allyship with the for hire thief/ spy Prowler (Miles M. Davis) and Green Goblin (she usually just catches and releases with his antics) the fire chief and sheriff work well with her. In school as her regular persona her academic rival is Miles.

Etta tricked out an ATV to fit her theme and made it hover/wall fly so she can still get to places that don't have the highrises that need her help. She controls it remotely sometimes to help rescue people or lead the emergency services to a location/criminals she's taken care of. This causes her Uncle Barney to think she is a close friend of Recluse and works on her tech. He likes Recluse but is highly worried for 'both' their safeties.

The only "Canon Events" she has gone through is the death of her parents and giving up being Spiderwoman for a while after she failed to save a little boy's parents during a train derailment caused by Sandman.

Miguel sent Jess and Ben to recruit her for the Spider Society after she dealt with a Vulture variant and he worried over the fact that her Gwen Stacy event hadn't occurred yet (death of Harry in her case, his spine snaps as he is GG when she tired to stop him from plummeting after a mid-air battle) they haven't explained this to her yet. Etta tries to stay in her world but really likes collaborating on inventions with other spider-peoples and usually sticks to the R&D or repair department over missions.

Is works besties with Margo but highly distrusts Lyla. She partial mentors under Jess and let's Gwen stay in her dimension sometimes when Hobie's world is overwhelming.

Loves blooming onions and other savory snacks, it's not unusual to see her as Recluse snacking on jerky or street corn. Tamale ladies love her. Often wears overalls or jeans jackets over her spider suit. Has hella Spotify followers because her playlists are absolutely fire (even Miles admits this)

And that's kinda it! I have hella backstory about my girl, please ask about her😁💛

#spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the verse #spidersona #original character #Hobie Brown #miles morales #some midwesten hero love

[socialjusticeinamerica]

😡

[battlekilt]

Your interpretation of Cody and Obi-wans relationship in parallel to Obi-wan and Anakins was something that never really crossed my mind. But now that you say it, it really is a fascinating view on them. I'd read a whole book about it.

In response to this post.

Funny you should say that, Anon. I am currently in the process of writing a rather sizable chunk of a fic, for the purposes of having a lot of it written before it starts going up, and the dynamic between these three are a key element. Though, I have a blorbo—Rex is the main character. These three? Though? They contain some of the most important relationships in his life, so that will be explored, a lot. Especially since the three of them play a large part in what drives the narrative.

I am glad you feel that way, specifically.

No matter what, Cody is, like all Clones, an incredibly young man. Even if we somehow set aside the fact that he was 'born' the year Obi-Wan became Anakin's master, which I don't think is entirely honest to wholly do, and focus on his physical development...

Cody is 'twenty-years' old when he meets Obi-Wan. Cody is functionally, in comparison, a 4-star General.

Let me elaborate further:

In the US Military, there are currently 17 active 4-Star Generals.

To quote Wiki:

There are currently 44 active-duty four-star officers in the uniformed services of the United States: 17 in the Army*, three in the Marine Corps, eight in the Navy, 11 in the Air Force*, two in the Space Force***, two in the Coast Guard, and one in the Public Health Service Commissioned Corps. ARMY** and AF** are bold because it fits the scope of the 3rd System Army, with the 7th Sky Corps is nested within the System Army. Which, fits with the allegorical theme of the GAR being based on the US Military. The Air Force was a nested tactical corps within the US ARMY from its inception in 1933-35 (ask a military historian which date and start an argument), and became a separate and equal element in 1947.

One remarkable note is that the US Army has the most 4-star positions that it has had since WWII. But, I digress.

Much like the US Military is divided regionally, the GAR is divided into the major galactic sectors. Nearly all are under the command of a member of the Jedi High Council, and there were a 1–2 Admirals that were given command for brief periods. All were served by the highest rank achievable by a Clone—Marshal Commander.

That's our sunshine boy. One of the most powerful 12–15 Clones in the whole Grand Army of the Republic.

Under Cody's command, because let's be real, Obi-Wan is there to provide legitimacy, vibe-checks, and familiarity with the galaxy that Cody would not have—having grown up on an isolated world barely connected to the GFFA, there are 250,000 Clone Troopers, with a support personnel corps at about 4x–7x per Clone Trooper, and this is aside from Naval staff and any civilian personnel.

This puts the 3rd System at:

Low: 1,769,472 High: 2,359,296

Let's put this more in perspective.

The current US Military, combined:

Active Duty: 1.4M Total: 2.2M

Alone, the 3rd has more Clones than the Army Reserve, as of 2021. However, in total, would have more personal than the Active Duty on the low estimate, and the total (active+reserve) is still under the highest estimate for the 3rd System Army.

Cody's command is... massive. While I understand that this fits with the galactic scale, that is still... a lot for one person. Yes, I am going to stand by my assessment that Cody would have the most military responsibilities, even in comparison to Obi-Wan. General Kenobi does not have the training that Cody has been given.

Now, let's go into Training VS Experience. Training is the education received: NEARLY all US officers are required to have a higher education—a bachelors degree or above.

(Admittedly, this does get complicated).

To my knowledge, most have all been taught at one of the military schools—West Point, Naval Academy, Air Force Academy, etc. There are some senior military colleges that are also secondary higher academies that some O-10s may have come from. Sorry, I didn't get too far down this one. While there may be exceptions, for the most part... this is going to be typical.

Generals typically have over 20 years of military experience.

30 years.

Developmentally, Cody is a twenty-year-old. 20. 10 * 2. Half of 40.

The lowest commissioned rank in the Army is 2nd Lt. Statically, the average age for all commissioned officers is, on average, in their forties, though a good number of our 2LTs are in their thirties.

Generals are typically in their forties.

This means that Cody is younger than... any officer.

Experience? Life Experience? Outside of education, drills and simulations? None. According to Legends, the Kaminoans barely allowed the RepComm trainers to ever use LiveAmmo. Though, it would be reasonable that by the time Cody would have entered ARC training, he would have been exposed to life-fire practice.

No matter how hard his training was, it was not the same as life-experience in the field. This is where Obi-Wan, one of the few Jedi Masters who has worked with military operations with ANY comfort—which was still very little, really lends himself to his XO.

The Kaminoans are professionals at creating and building... well, professional militaries. They had the help of Jango Fett and other Mandalorian trainers to augment their training. However, for the most part, the Clones were trained using the methodology and educational paradigm the Kaminoans created—though, never on the same scale. This was pure professional military education on an industrial level.

Cody?

Cody may have more training and knowledge than most four-star generals will have in their lifetime, all with the benefit of a wikipedia style swath of information, modern technology to impart that knowledge, and some pretty extensive stimulation. But, what is under Cody's pretty-little-military-cut head? All of it is knowledge that surpasses what most Generals will EVER dream, even if they just stayed in military education.

However.

He is a ten-year-old in a twenty-year-old's body with the brain of AT LEAST two-life-times of military experience.

Impressive, huh?

But, Cody is still... not like you or I.

At the time of Cody's training, it is highly unlikely they left the Kaminoan starsystem. If they did, they did not engage with the galaxy at large. This is a bit like growing up Tatooine.

On the edge of the galaxy, with only the stars to stare up at.

Anakin grew up in a sea of sand. Cody grew up in a... world of seas.

Cody's life experience, the life experience you and I would take for granted, is nonexistent. He could lead an army better than our best Generals could hope for. But, what else has he known?

My parallels are that Obi-Wan purposefully encouraged Anakin to be a sassy menace. He wanted to break that slave-mentality. Luckily, Anakin already showed that he could become a spitfire, even when he was sweet little Ani.

Similarly, I characterize that Obi-Wan did the same for Cody.

Anakin's shackles were the explosive in his body, the ferocity of how slave culture was brutally enforced—fear. However, Anakin knew that he was a slave, and he knew enough of something more.

Cody's shackles are the indoctrination he received from the time of his birth. Unfortunately for fandom at large, Cody is... a much more obedient military man that I think many want to see him. Based on remnants of Legends and the retained canon, no Marshal Commander would be in their position were they not... very obedient—to militant POVs. In fact, in the Disney comics, Cody has... a rather brutal attitude towards deserters—

BTW, in a military, desertion is one of the worst offensive that could be committed against a soldier's oath, that which they swore themselves to... but more importantly... their fellow soldiers.

In contrast, Wolffe is much more forgiving, and advocates for their re-assimilation in the GAR; Cody... disagrees with the fact that the deserters are still alive, and believes they should still be executed by a firing squad.

In season 1, Slick—for whatever reason—becomes a rare voice to call out the circumstances of the Clones. Not only do Rex and Cody recoil at a brother betraying the GAR, the Jedi, and of course... the killing of brothers, but they also scoff at his assertion that they are slaves.

Cut becomes a critical introduction to the slow character development we see Rex go through; Cody unlikely goes through the same because that's just how stories like this work. Just the simple act of asking the questions he gave to Rex set the stage for what happened on Umbara, and even then, Rex struggled to show defiance.

BTW, Fives's actions are fulfilling the duties of an (active) ARC. They are supposed to be more independent, whereas a command-class Clone like Rex may be a trained ARC, but his duties as a CC**** would mean that his prime directive is the cohesion of the command, and to assist in the joint operation between the Clones and the Jedi.

Fast-forward to Order 66 and Cody doesn't hesitate. Yes, it is the chip. However, that was not how ROTS was scripted or filmed. I know this is getting Doylist, but it is relevant. At that time, the Clones knew what was going to happen. They knew that they would eventually turn on the Jedi. Through the story of TCW08, it changes to a Manchurian Candidate concept, and eventually evolves the story of the chips that we know today. As the Doylist context changed, it remains that Cody acted without any pause. This is in line because the highest priority Cody held was always loyalty to the Republic. Loyalty to the REPUBLIC—Not the Jedi, not his brothers, not General Kenobi. Just. The. Republic. A traitor to the Republic is worst than the Separatists.

When the order went out, Cody's brain heard:

Obi-Wan friend. Obi-Wan betrayed Republic. Kill General Kenobi. He is no friend to the Republic—thus—to Cody.

Makes sense to him, especially at the moment. This is conditioning. This is indoctrination. This is militantism in action. The chip wasn't really necessary... it was for the sake of the audience who didn't want to believe that the men we began to care about would ever do this 'willfully,' even though all that mental conditioning and indoctrination would mean that they didn't have a choice... even if they didn't have the chip.

Obviously, by the time you get to TBB, when some Clones begin to question that Manchurian voice in their head, Cody's rationale returns, and so does his critical thinking. We have Cody, a Clone depicted in recent comics with a militant intolerance towards desertion, going AWOL from the Empire—that is HUGE. Was this his fall from grace? His fall to what was his darkside? From one angle, yes. However, it was a fallback into grace, and I like to think that it goes back to two people: Obi-Wan and Rex. We'll continue to focus on Obi-Wan, though.

I like to think that it was the seeds of the Jedi finally germinated, and it was Obi-Wan that planted them within his dear Clone Commander.

Obi-Wan being a one former menace himself—you know, a young man who thought tying two lightsabers to the ends of a rope was a good idea—got himself stuffed into one of the dreaded Jedi Council armchairs. Great, now he HAS to be responsible.

Cody and Anakin are, in many ways, parallels, just not direct. They are often inversions of each other, and together they make a great foil for Obi-Wan in general.

The idea that Obi-Wan saw this INCREDIBLY accomplished, intelligent, "gifted-child" of a Clone Commander and thought... "How do I get him to be a menace?"

I love it. I feel like it is just the thing someone like Obi-Wan Kenobi would do. It makes sense that Obi-Wan would want to help Cody grow beyond the very narrow—but extensive—field of knowledge, all for the express purpose of watching the young man develop into a more rounded individual.

It is also very, very Jedi. It was always the Jedi that were the sole friends of the Clones. So, it makes sense to me that the Jedi would advocate for this sort of well-rounded development. And the Clones? They would sorely need that kind of encouragement.

The Clones were never supposed to have names. They Clones were not individuals. It was the Jedi who told them to paint their units colors. It was the Jedi who TOLD him to pick out names. In Legends, and I think it fits with the remaining printed canon, Cody was actually very apprehensive and skeptical about how much of a good idea it was for the Clones TO develop individuality.

Cody was not bred for the specific purpose of his role—not even for being a CC. (Sorry, fanon)

He was just another Clone. Maybe he got nurtured and natured into a better candidate for a command-class Clone, but in the end? He was randomly chosen. As clarified in recent apocrypha, Cody was just a Clone Captain in the 91st when Obi-Wan found him and was impressed by him.

What made "Just A Clone Captain Cody" stand-out to Obi-Wan? There's plenty of theories that can arise.

In my lore, Alpha-17 recommended Obi-Wan go check out "#2224 in Windu's battalion."

From Captain to Marshal Commander? AHHHH. Someone send help.

Imagine the fine-lined walked poor young Obi-Wan had with Anakin: a former rebellious ginger-child himself, he became a well-behaved rule minder under Qui-Gon. Now he has this older Padawan, who is also a former slave of one of the harshest slave planets we know of. He has to get Anakin to be self-expressive, learn how to act on his own self-agency—AND—he has to also... try and help Anakin assimilate into the Jedi Order.

Take Cody: ten years old, looks twenty, has the knowledge of several lifetimes lived by career military men, who has seen very little of the galaxy.

Keep in mind, Obi-Wan met Jango Fett. He knew just what kind of attitude could lurk under that stony face so like the others, even if he said, "Yes, sir," without hesitation, and followed his orders faithfully.

I don't think Obi-Wan would be able to help himself. It is part of the Jedi Culture to be a positive presence. Unlike Anakin did with the 501st, Obi-Wan purposefully kept himself removed from most Clones; his empathy made it too difficult to ensure their suffering and death, so distance kept him remotely functional. The only two Clones Obi-Wan accepted as friends had been Cody and Rex. Obviously, Rex is an Anakin problem. But, Cody? His young, cloned, new friend? Right there. Right there. That... Jedi compulsion, that ITCH they get, it would gnaw at him. He can't help many others.

The same could have been said for Anakin, who was just freed, but had nowhere else to go—little Ani had no one else. Obi-Wan didn't have the same responsibilities as a fresh Knight as he would as a Jedi Master. He could risk everything and leave the Order to train Anakin if the Jedi won't matriculate him. He risked everything to help this one little boy. Later? He wants to risk everything, again. But now, his everything doesn't belong to him anymore—not even enough to consider leaving the Order. Every Clone death is another slice across him, and even a thousand papercuts will get'cha.

But, he wants to help. He would want to help beyond vibe-checks, lightsaber wielding, crazy feats of Force-enchanted bravery.

He would want to help a person—Cody, the clone so often by his side—become a PERSON in his own right. A young man that everyone else has forgotten IS a young man. I doubt Obi-Wan would ever forget that, like he never forgot that Anakin was a young man.

So, there is that itch. That... Jedi need to just... reach out and help make the galaxy a better place for others. One Clone. Is that too much to ask? Can he be allowed to be a mentor for ONE Clone? If he helped this Clone become more than a faceless soldier, if he helped this Clone have more growth and life experience than just what he was given on Kamino, maybe... Maybe Obi-Wan can imagine that there will be a life after the war. To do that, he wants to help his new friend become a full person—in the hopes of the After the War.

Obi-Wan cannot save everyone. He cannot help everyone.

But maybe...

Maybe, JUST maybe, he can help this one Clone become more of a person, and far... far less of just another number.

Slavery is a hell of a thing, and it comes in many forms. But another face of slavery is indoctrination, which is ultimately the stripping away personhood, so they can be utilized as a tool—sound familiar? Yeah, me too.

I think, Obi-Wan would recognize this about the two young men he cares about. Yes, even Rex, but... this post is about Cody and Anakin.

I went on more about Cody than Anakin because... there's a lot of wonderful meta about Anakin, and I'm not confident enough to try and fill the same niche. I also have so much I could say about how I envision Anakin and Cody get along, and how it might be through Obi-Wan's eyes. I'll just say this: he thinks both his overgrown students are hilarious together, and his tickles him... Ginger. ;)

Anyway, I hope this post finds you, anon, and you get anything from it. At the time of this post, I only have one posted fic. While it doesn't go as deep into this meta, there are some elements in it to get a taste of this characterization/meta. When the bigger version of the AU goes up—who knows. It is currently at 270K+.

Thank you for the engagement!

EDIT: There are MORE points of comparison that I just... couldn't get to. Such as the earliest characterization notes we were given about Cody, right after ROTS came out. (Overly cautious, anxious, but highly competent—I love me some anxiety-riddled people with excess competency. My "Imposter Syndrome" Cody isn't going anywhere, and it helps him lineup with Anakin.)

Side-notes and additional commentary under the cut.

***We don't acknowledge "space force" in this house.

**** Yeah, no, Rex is a CC. I'll fite over this. He is labelled in far more apocrypha as a CC, and it just gets way too complicated to label him a CT when he is in a command-class position. This is one area of new canon I'm just... gonna ignore. I hc that Krell was being a jackass to Rex.

Note: Rex was always a CC until the Umbara episodes. When he was called CT-7567... it was a script terror. I'm ignoring that retcon. There's even books printed as late as 2021 that list him as CC.

#commander cody #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #long post #kilt's clonely meta #kilt's meta #gffa meta #bucket answers #anonymous #bucket's meta

[manasastuff-blog]

Cadets of Manasa Defence Academy Participated in "International Coastal Cleanup Day " At Yarada beach, Visakhapatnam.

#nad #defence academy in india #indian coast guard #indian navy #indian army #nda coaching in india #vizag defence academy

[enchi-elm]

Self-rec Saturday

tagged by @enbylestat

tagging @tortoisesshells, @meretriciouslyloquacious, @mercurygray, @lupismaris, @riotsofbloom, @sagiow, @jomiddlemarch, @ladytp

As of yet unwritten! But boy howdy, would it be a fun one!

Captain Benjamin Tallmadge of the U.S. Army is on the rise, fresh off of a promotion, ready for the long slog of making a name for himself in Army Intelligence. Working alongside his mentor Colonel Scott, he's arrived at a coastal military base to help conduct a review of strategic thinking policy in the U.S. Coast Guard. Eager to engage their uptight friend in some debauchery on his first night back in town, Ben's old military academy buddies take him out to see the local drag show at The Strong Arm, a local coastie pub. The headline act is Whattalotta Brewster, a saucy sassy persona with a style based on pin ups from the 40s and 50s, and Ben can't tear his eyes away from his first experience of the drag scene. A sparkly rendition of "Candyman", complete with chanting from the coastie patrons in the bar, is enough to get his blood jumping, but Peggy Lee's "Fever" brings it to a boil.

Fascinated and more than a little confused, Ben offers to buy Lotta a drink after the show. Some harmless flirting that surprises them both gets cut short as Ben gets dragged back to base before curfew by his friends, leaving Ben's thoughts in turmoil.

The next morning, he's happy to keep the night's memories in a sealed box, but finds that impossible as he and Colonel Scott are introduced to their Coast Guard counter-parts and collaborators in the policy review: a hatchet-faced captain who isn't keen on their prejudices and a familiar-looking Lieutenant Junior Grade Caleb Brewster, who's first utterance upon seeing Ben is "shit".

#got most of the scenes planned out #but it might just be something that stays in my head for now #while I tend to other projects #tallster #turn amc #caleb brewster #drag queen AU #boys will be girls and girls will be boys #is the tentative title #Apfelessig #my fics #edit: I am a fool #obviously the title has to be #what a lovely way to burn

[goofyspokemonworldbuildingcorner]

The coast guard of various nearby regions makes frequent safety checks for Blueberry Academy. This is important because the school is situated in a part of the ocean where many thunderstorms pass over.

#pokemon headcanon #pokemon worldbuilding #pokemon sv #blueberry academy #pokemon scarlet violet #pokemon sv dlc

[athenswrites]

Hellooooo Athens! Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday m'monarch, I've got a question for you!

In that lovely bit about Commander Mateo, you mentioned something about the the Royal Guard Training Academy. As a fan of Worldbuilding my own military education, I'd love to know more about it! Where is it? What kind of people go there? What gets taught there, and is it just for the navy? How're graduates viewed by those they command, and are there alternative paths to officership?

I’m gonna answer this one first because I think it might be the most straightforward!

The Royal Guard Training Academy (or just the Academy) is pretty much the only way to officership, barring any extreme circumstances. It’s just as much of a way to train recruits as it is to weed out the weaker ones.

The Academy has two locations, the primary of which is located on the northern edge of the Southside/South District, with most of the dormitories and classrooms inside the Perimeter, and training facilities located outside. It can house roughly 7,000 recruits at a time, although numbers are usually closer to 5,000. The secondary location is on the coast near Savannah, and can hold roughly 3,000 recruits. It usually is at capacity. Anyone who wants to become an officer of any of the four divisions of the Royal Guard, or part of any auxiliary department, is required to attend the Academy. It serves as the primary public higher education for the state, and as long as you graduate and serve for two years, it is free. However, in times of war, any former graduate can be called back to serve, whether on the battlefield or in camp. The minimum age for enrollment used to be 18, but was changed to 16 in 2179. There is no maximum age technically, but usually no one older than 25 is a first time enrollee.

Semesters for the Academy start on January 2nd and July 2nd, with a weeklong break in the middle of each and two weeks in between. There's also several other smaller breaks within (1-2 days off). The first four months an enrollee attends the Academy consists of an accelerated review of maths, writing, civics, history, physical education, and various sciences. In truth, the enrollees aren't really learning anything; the Academy is just getting a feel for their individual skills. The next 2 months are spent in what is referred to as "rotations", where enrollees are able to pick and chose various classes to participate in and get a better feel for what they want to do.

At the end of their first semester, enrollees are given a report of their individual skillsets, as analyzed by the Academy. Enrollees are graded on 38 different skills, which then determines their future assignment. Different assignments require certain scores on certain skills. Of the Royal Guard divisions, Special Operations requires the highest overall scores, while Army requires the highest fitness scores and Navy requires the highest engineering and technical scores. However, Perimeter is the second easiest assignment to get into overall, beat only by culinary. From their available options based on their skillsets, enrollees are able to rank their assignment choices. Those who match the skillsets of their chosen assignments will be matched first, and some assignments (such as Special Operations) only take a few at a time, so it's not guaranteed a enrollee will get their first pick.

For those who chose a officer assignment in the Royal Guard, they are immediately considered "Enlisted V". All Perimeter assignments are moved to Atlanta, and all Navy assignments are moved to Savannah at this point. The year is broken into six week periods for Royal Guard enlistees, with a weeklong break between every two. Each period consists of intensive classes and physical training specialized to each division of the Royal Guard. At each break, enlistees are given the chance to "rank up" to the next level, eventually earning the "Graduate" rank. Upon reaching Graduate level, they receive their initial real officer assignment, although they will maintain the "Graduate" title along with their officer title until their proper graduation in the summer or winter. Most graduates become Private (Army), Ensign (Navy), 3rd Guard (Perimeter), or Agent (Special Operations).

(Grady was a massive exception to all of this, and was given the title "Lieutenant Commander" out of the Academy, as she was chosen to guard the Piers and become the next Commander of Special Operations by the Deputy Agents of SpOps (there's 16 of them).)

Auxiliary departments include (but are not limited to) medicine (doctor-level), nursing, mechanics, software, biological engineering, culinary, intel, etc. and actually make up a majority of the Academy's assignments. Some programs, such as the culinary program, only take six additional months to graduate from, while some (like the medicine assignment) can take five or six years. These assignments are a lot more rigid in their educational pathways, and it's rare to graduate early from these assignments. All of these graduates are assigned positions within the Royal Guard that match their assignments, and must serve there for a total of 2 years before being left to do their own thing. Many people do this, then go off to do their own things.

Anyway! There's the majority of your answer, and if you have any more questions, let me know!

#writeblr #writing #ask game #worldbuilding #worldbuilding wednesday #wip #nytf #athens answers #writeblr ask game

[multifandomfanfiction]

Two Ghosts Chapter 1

TITLE: Two Ghosts Chapter 1 PAIRING: Iceman/OC, Rooster/OC (if you squint) RATING: T CHAPTER: 1/? SUMMARY: It was just a routine training session, but it changed Noel “Mongoose” Grenier’s life forever. The legends of pilots flying through time vortexes was true, because it happened to her. Dropped into 1984 during Maverick’s Top Gun training, she must navigate keeping her secret while also completing the program…again. Will she return to her own time unscathed? Or will she lose her heart in the process?

“Good morning, aviators. This is your Captain speaking,” Maverick’s voice came through their comms, “You know the rules. Only guns, no missiles. We do not go below the hard deck of 5,000 feet.”

“That means you, Roos,” Mongoose quipped.

Rooster rolled his eyes at his wingman.

“No one bet any pushups this time,” Fanboy said.

“What’s the matter, Mickey Mouse? Didn’t you like all those pushups?” Mongoose asked.

“I know you did, Mongoose,” Hangman teased, “I caught you staring.”

“I’d rather get blown out of the sky.”

“You have! Twice!” Rooster reminded her.

“Roosie, have I told you how much I hate you?” Rooster chuckled.

“Not today, darlin’. I was afraid you’d forgotten.”

“Okay, enough chit chat. Let’s turn and burn!” Maverick said.

Mongoose anticipated Maverick’s move and shot up into the clouds.

“Mongoose! Where the hell are you going!” Hangman yelled.

Mongoose laughed. “Keep up boys!”

“Where is she?” Hangman asked Rooster.

“I don’t know. She disappeared from my radar.”

Mongoose leveled her jet out in the clouds, keeping an eye out for Maverick. The clouds started swirling around her. “Guys, anyone else seeing this weird storm?” Mongoose asked.

“What weird storm? The sky is clear,” Fanboy said.

“Where the hell are you?” Rooster asked.

“Mongoose, descend now!” Maverick ordered.

Mongoose tried to descend, but nothing happened. “My controls won’t work!”

“Where are you? I’m coming for you,” Rooster said.

“I don’t know! Rooster!”

Rooster could hear the panic in her voice. “Just hold tight, princess.”

“Ro….he…”

“Mongoose?”

There was nothing.

“Noel?”

Rooster was starting to panic.

“GOOSE!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next thing Mongoose knew, she exited the clouds and breathed a sigh of relief. She looked down at her radar and saw nothing. “Rooster?” she asked.

There was silence.

She looked down and saw water.

“What the fuck?”

She’d been flying over the mountains of California, not the sea.

“Hangman?”

Mongoose scanned through radio frequencies until she heard a voice.

“Uh guys, I’m picking up a plane.”

“Is it one of ours?”

Wait. She knew that voice. She’d heard it on videos at the Academy. “Admiral Kazansky?”

“Holy shit! It’s a girl,” the other voice said.

“Admiral Kazansky? That sounds good doesn’t it?” Iceman said.

Mongoose rolled her eyes.

Great. Another Hangman.

“You? An Admiral? Yeah right, Kazansky!”

“Mav?!”

Maverick’s brows furrowed.

“Of course you fucking know her,” another voice said.

She looked over and saw Maverick next to her and in his backseat was Nick “Goose” Bradshaw.

What the fuck was going on?

Suddenly there were alarms screaming at her. She let out a pathetic whimper, really wished she had Rooster and Hangman covering her.

“Eject! You’re gonna go into a tailspin and trust me, you don’t wanna hit that water in a jet.”

Mongoose laughed. “You know, I always feel so much better after we’ve talked, Mav.” She pulled the handle under the seat, but her parachute didn’t deploy.

“Shit,” Maverick cursed, “We’re gonna need the coast guard.”

Mongoose tried again and it deployed partially.

Well it was better than nothing.

The last thought Mongoose had before she hit the water was of Rooster.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Mongoose came to, her vision was blurry. All she could make out was a blonde man with a mustache and a dark headed man.

“God Roose, you are not gonna believe the dream I had…”

Her vision cleared and Goose and a younger Maverick were standing in her room.

She immediately started freaking out. “No, no. This cannot be happening. It’s not possible. Please tell me Rooster and Hangman are punking me.”

“Rooster and Hangman? Are they part of your squadron?” Maverick asked.

“They’re my wingmen. They were covering me when…”

“We’ll have a search and rescue team sent out. See if they can find anything.”

“Wait. I’m in hospital. They must have given me something. I’m hallucinating. I have to be.”

Mongoose tried to sit up and nearly cried out at the pain in her ribs.

Goose lightly pushed her back down. “Don’t try to move, darlin’. You hit the water pretty hard.”

Tears filled Mongoose’s eyes. She didn’t understand what was happening.

Where was Rooster? Why was his dad here? Why was Maverick so young?

Before she could freak out again, Maverick asked, “What’s your name?”

“Lt. Noel Genier. Callsign: Mongoose.”

Maverick laughed. “Mongoose?”

“Me and my…my squadron were at a bar and the guys got into a fight. I took four of them down on my own.”

“Like a mongoose,” Goose said.

Mongoose nodded.

“Do you know what year it is?”

Judging by the fact that she was most definitely still in Miramar and Goose was still alive...

“1984.”

“And the president?”

Shit.

She didn’t know that answer. History had never been her best subject. So she faked a headache.

Mongoose pressed her hands to her temples. “God. My head is killing me.”

Maverick gently lowered her hands and kissed her hairline. “I’ll have a nurse get you some painkillers.”

Goose stood up and patted her on the knee before leaving with Maverick.

She stared at the place where they stood.

What the fuck was going on?

Taglist: @indynerdgirl

#rooster imagines #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw imagines #pete maverick mitchell #pete maverick mitchell imagines #top gun #top gun imagines #top gun:maverick imagines #top gun: maverick