A/N:
Annnnnddd, we're back, baby! I'm going to try to finish off the Second Arc before the end of the year. So, there's another three chapters coming from you all very soon.
With this one, though, the last of the major players is introduced. Some people will be very happy to see a certain ghost hunter joining the story.
Summary:
The Head Commander tries to make good on his lead. He then gets into contact with the newest facility in Herber, Utah, where a very familiar face is among the GSU's newest crop of interns.
Warnings:
General discussion of post disaster recovery efforts, general description of dead bodies
Washington, D.C; 7:30am; May 8th, 2005
Agent R strode back to his deck, coffee from the cafeteria warming his hand. The recycled air in the D.C. offices held an unreasonable chill to ward off the humid press of the Virginia summer heat. That left him, and other agents, shivering in their regulation spandex. He was already missing the insulation of the ones they used to explore the Zone. Make no mistake, he was happy to do a rotation back on Earth, he missed the pale blue of the sky more than he thought possible, but God he did not miss A/C. If he told his partner he preferred the energized chill of the Zone over the snowy cold of Earth's winter...well, he didn't want another argument about quitting again. That was why he was riding a desk right now, in fact, arguments about safety and living in the 'Realm of the Living'. He loved them, but they were just so stubborn, and—
"Heya Agent R," the chipper Greenless greeted at her cubicle across from him. How she was this excited this early escaped him.
"What's up, Agent P?"
"Oh, well, nothing I suppose um—"
"Huh, you forgot what we're doing this morning already?"
"Sir? Oh, no sir I, um—" Maybe he took too much pleasure in wringing that anxious scrunch to her brows out of the usually stoic Greenless, but desk duty, thrills when you could get them you know?
"At ease, Agent P, I'm just yanking your chain." He could be benevolent. "You wouldn't have gotten the message. Don't have the clearance yet."
"Clearance for what?" Her face shifted back to the picture of smooth calmness.This was why he enjoyed yanking her chain so much, her change back to cool as an ice cube was impeccable. It boded well for the length of her career, and the rank of it, to be honest. Though, with the field promotions after Colorado, even a determined desk rider like her could make Lieutenant. He thought with some sourness.
"A call coming through in a few minutes, we expect it from Amity."
"From Amity HQ?"
"Agent P, why would you need clearance to know about a check-in?"
"I don't know, everything on this side of the country comes with more bells and whistles. Maybe it's a special check-in us Greenless don't get to know about?" The GSU version of bureaucracy toed the line just below unwieldy. It would be simpler if they were a recognized branch of the military, but ah, there was another common point of contention between the two of them. In any case, it wasn't one yet, so they had to make due with the resources and power at hand, including all the ingenuity of this country's fine citizens.
"Funny, but no. This is a call from a citizen, one Pamela Manson." He watched her face slide blanker in thought, subtly amazed her face could emote any less at all.
"What does a citizen of Amity have to say that's involves security clearance?"
"Isn't that the question."
"Don't you know?" He smiled then, taking in a long draught of his coffee, the burn sliding slowly through his chest to his belly.
"Why would I?" She sighed, a real frown marring her tight young features.
"Why make all this fuss about clearance and me not knowing in that case?"
"I told you; I was just yanking your chain. I do know enough to tell you who is calling and that we're to transfer her to main HQ the moment she does. I could not tell you why she's so important."
"New girlfriend?" The smirk on Agent P's face spread like a contagion to the few agents sitting in their little corner of the communications center, chuckles smothered behind coughs and sips of coffee.
"Oh, be serious, Agent P."
"I am! Aren't I Arny?" She flashed a smile in her fellow Greenless' direction.
"We're both quite serious, seniors." Agent A said.
"As serious as a Behemoth attack." Agent P swore, fist over her heart and eyes closed. She looked the picture of solemn sincerity. If only he hadn't seen her do the exact same last weekend while bullshitting him out of that poker hand. "We both know the Commander is married to his job."
"Should be married to Agent J." Agent Y joined the conversation, tapping the keyboard to log in at his desk.
"Agent—"
"Oh, no, don't give me that Rodgers, you know it's true."
"Don't you have better things to do than speculate on the Commander's love life?"
"Lack of love life, and no. You know I'm running out of time—"
"Oh God, the betting pool got you?" He watched Agent Y shrug and reach below his desk, rooting around for one of his famous desk snacks. A whole family sized bag of Cool and Hot Delicious Dips came out of his desk. No one knew how he managed to shove so many into the tiny thing; he said he had the world's shittiest space magic. 'Only works on desk snacks,' he insisted. Tech was sure he used sleight of hand and their miniaturizing technology, not that anyone had ever caught him to prove it.
"It comes for everyone eventually. You can still get in."
"I won't."
"Goody two-shoes, boy scout, choir boy—"
"—Hey!"
"Oh, my apologies, Rodgers, that bring back too many memories of your youth?" When the two junior agents only scrunched their faces in confusion, he continued, "you know Agent R was a Catholic growing up."
He sighed, glaring over the last of his morning coffee at Agent Y, "I haven't been devote since before college."
"His mom shares the cutest pictures of him all dressed up like a little angel singing in the choir. Sporty little blonde cut and chubby cheeks, big doe eyes—"
"—Yankovich!"
"—Oh alright, you big whiner." He shoved another handful of Cool and Hots into his eager maw and leaned back in his chair. "I know you gave up God when you saw the footage at Wisconsin."
"If the Almighty were real, he wouldn't let those disgusting abominations exist."
"You won't hear me arguing the point, Rogers, you're just so uptight about having ever been indoctrinated. You were a kid!"
"And now look at me, a wizened war veteran of the GSU, one of our nation's leading Zone exploration experts."
"Why are you riding a desk right now anyway, Rogers?" When he only locked his jaw and stared ahead, tapping a rough, unsteady beat onto his desk, Yankovich decided to answer his own question. "Ah, woman troubles again."
"No." He ignored the other man's stare.
"It's always women troubles with you."
"Not this time." When his friend looked close to insisting, he changed the subject, "we might not have gotten a proper education as children, but the newest recruits in this batch all got the full course of ectostudies in public school."
"Is that why they all talk like those sad sacks we shoved into lockers?" He smiled around another handful of Cool and Hots, "but not you Agents P and A; we got the coolest of the bunch."
Agent R went to quip back, when his phone rang.Ah, show time.
"Communications Office R, how may I direct your call?" The silence on the other end of the line stretched out, far past the ticks it took to account for the encryption delay. "Hel—"
"Ah, yes, well... I was told to call this number this morning? I spoke to someone yesterday, about getting in contact with that hybrid who attacked Amity—"
"Ma'am could I get your name?"
"Pamela Manson, uh, did you need my social security number?" He had to suppress laughter then, as if they couldn't look up everything about her since tracing this call.
"No, ma'am, just needed you to confirm your identity for a voice match."
"Oh, you, you can… ok. So, what do you need me to do now?"
"I'm transferring you to HQ. You'll be able to speak with the commanders and attempt contact after they explain the plan to you."
"Oh, yes! Thank you, young man!" He winced, she wasn't much older than him. He hummed into the headset, typing in the series of commands to transfer her the scant distance to HQ.
"Just doing my duty, ma'am, as I'm sure you'll do yours to help capture that scourge against humanity." The silence again, then she spoke right before he tapped in the key to transfer her.
"This is personal for me, I want to see that monster, all of them, executed no matter what." And what could he say to that? Everyone in Amity had a more than average desire, a strong reason, to want the hybrids dead; they'd turned their downtown into a parking lot after all. He tapped the command to transfer her and put her on hold at the same time.
"Agent O, this is Communications Officer R, I've got Mrs. Manson on the line for her scheduled call."
"Excellent, I'll put her on. Have a great morning."
"Glad to wrack up that overtime." Rodgers quipped back.
Agent O clicked off the line with his fellow agent and got the attention of the officer closest to the Head Commander. He tapped in a few keys to put her on the main speaker, and then cut his connection.
"Pamela, thank you for getting back in contact with us." His voice was soft, soothing, like he was trying to coax a scared child into giving a statement.
"Fenton." Some part of her demanded she hang up the phone the moment she heard his voice. If this wasn't the best way to get justice for her country and Amity, she would have. Gods, if she didn't despise this man. "What do you need me to do?" The nerves from earlier had evaporated the moment she'd heard his simpering cooing, the same tone he'd used nearly five years ago.
"We're going to connect your phone, your cell, to the satellites under our direct control so we can trace the call as soon as it picks up. You're being very brave by being willing to contact this creature again. Your courage is invaluable to the safety of this country."
"I'm doing this for the people we lost. Just promise me you'll catch these predators this time, because if I have to...speak to this thing, and you let it get away again—"
"—Of course, being able to trace this hybrid is the linchpin in the plan to capture all of these creatures. We have other options, we must in the face of the urgency of their danger, but know your call, as simple as it seems, is an important strike against the hybrid menace." A little much, gilding it perhaps, but he always got like this when speaking to civilians. Hopefully, she forgave his effusiveness. Whether she did or not, she merely hummed down the line and promised to do her best. Good enough.
"Agent O, please double-check the tracing algorithm and prepare to track the call." It was formality; he was putting on a bit of a show for the woman. They'd been sitting on their hands all morning for her.
"Algorithm confirmed. Awaiting the command."
"Ok, Mrs. Manson," he started, tone the flavor of anti-freeze, "now all you have to do is call from your cell. Yes, we know this is your land-line. We want you still on a line with us when you try to contact it."
"Oh, of course. Let me just—" He heard her fiddle and scuffle near the phone, reaching into a purse and scrabbling over a counter, no doubt. Then there were the soft clicks of buttons being pressed, and she was back on the line. "It's ringing now, I'll just...put the land line on the counter." A clack and her breathing could no longer be heard over the line. They could do nothing but wait.
The cell line popped up onto the holoscreen in HQ, jiggling merrily as they set the trap. He watched as the phone routed first to her carrier's satellite and then to their own, firing off towards the other phone somewhere in the country. They could tell it existed, was at least intact, but until the little monster picked up, they couldn't get a ping on a local cell tower. Without that, they didn't know where it was. Truthfully, the chances of this working after the fiasco in Colorado were slim. It was likely to be on guard or already had its communication to the outside world confiscated by Plasmius, but what other leads did they have?
He had sold this to the F.B. well enough, so even if they didn't get a hit here, they still had time. They'd only promised to re-engage the hybrids soon. Ambiguity was the breathing room they craved right now.Still, that Hying witch won't be distracted for long. If this doesn't work, we'll have to hope we'll pick them up when they're fleeing their former nesting site. That was a tricky proposition. Whatever Plasmius used to cloak them and their movements was a tough nut. We've only rarely caught them out over the years, and never less than a few months after an engagement, and that had been one time, and God's sake pick up the phone you little fucker!
The ghostling wasn't so inclined. The call went to voicemail a second time. The voicemail had confirmed it belonged to something calling itself 'Danny'. Second Priority's 'birth' name was 'Daniel', before its citizenship had been stripped, but things weren't adding up. The hybrid in Amity had been a close ecto-signature match to Second Priority, but there were key difference in its wave pattern. Trying to contact Manson and—when records had been pulled for the number—Foley as well, made some semblance of sense for Second Priority. He'd have thought it was merely their hydrokinesis headache if records from Colorado hadn't tracked both this mystery hybrid and Second Priority as separate entities with separate wave forms. A fourth time, and that was the death knell to this little half-baked Hail Mary. Damn it, how are we supposed to track the bastards now? He worried before waving a hand to signal an end to the tracing attempts. "Mrs. Manson, thanks for your diligent efforts, but I don't think the hybrid is going to answer." The woman had switched to holding a phone to each ear the first time it clicked over to voicemail.
She felt the lump that had been crawling up her throat with every click over to voice mail squeeze around what was left of her voice box. No. This had to work. It had been so determined to speak to her before! Why wouldn't it pick up? "Maybe, I could try calling back in a few hours? It's early! You know I've heard from GSU information these things think they're human. Human teens, you know, they hate to be up this early." She gripped the plastic of her landline until it started creaking, twirling the cord connecting it to the wall until it was a tangled knot.
"Be that as it may, you said it had been anxious to speak to you, and now it appears to be avoiding—"
"—The things were just in Colorado, it's not even dawn over there. Why don't we—"
"—Who told you they were in Colorado?" They hadn't released the details or even the existence of the op in Colorado to the general public yet.
"Well, my husband is in politics, and some friends, they mentioned a military operation by the GSU in Colorado, and if it's on American soil, I mean, what else could it be? And it was right after this thing contacted me, they must be related. Maybe it's just...tired or—they get tired, don't they? It's just not awake yet, let me try again—"
He took a deep breath, glad the frantic woman on the other end couldn't see his face. Of course, Jeremiah Manson knew people, that had been the problem with the Mansons the whole time. She knew more than she was supposed to, and now she was emotionally invested in the idea of herself as the great citizen hero avenging Amity. Obnoxious. "Mrs. Manson, it has been a few days since the attack in Colorado. We have every reason to suspect the hybrid had...slipped away from Plasmius' grasp to contact you at all. Chances are now that it's back under its leader's grasp, all communication to the outside world has been cut off. This was always going to be a long shot. If it's not answering now, I doubt it will a few hours from now."
"But the cell—"
"Voicemail, I know. That means it's on, charged, but being ignored." She started sputtering again, some insufferable excuse bubbling out of her lips. "It rings Pamela." He's short with her then, had to take another deep breath. "Ma'am, that means it's active, but not being answered. If it were out of power or off, it would go immediately to voicemail. It's either been abandoned or is being purposefully ignored."
She could feel her hope dwindling with every clipped statement from the Head Commander. At least, he'd dropped the mewling sweet-tempered act and sounded like the commander of the GSU. This version of him she could believe. "What should I do?"
"Keep alert for if it tries to contact you, but do not try to contact it again. Even if it picks up, we need to be able to trace it for that to be of any use. It would emotionally distress you for no gain." He heard her groan on the other end, the note at the end veering closer to a sob. He hoped she didn't cry. It had been miserable fielding her oozing tears and heaving wails the last time. "Try to get your mind off of this, and enjoy the rest of your Sunday." The line clicked off, from her end, without another word.
"Well, that was a waste of time and taxes." He sighed when the officers in front of him flinched, clearly preparing for his ill temper. He'd been on edge the last...since Colorado. How long ago was that? Time had blurred together, the tasks set in front of him his only concern. He looked down to the tabtop in his left hand, his schedule pulled up. He checked off this waste of an attempt, and scrolled down.
He had a meeting with the Vice Commander to get on the same page, another after that with the engineering department in Norfolk, and a final one, after a hasty lunch, with some active GSU members who'd lost family in Colorado. His eyes ached, a throb building somewhere near his temples. They'd been working the last two days straight. He hadn't returned to his apartment since before the scuffle in Amity, catching cat naps in brief windows between reviewing tapes, data, and officer tactics meetings. He'd had to approve moves out of Ghost Zone away teams, sign reams of paperwork for the dead and the promoted, even help some of the engineers redesign the frank flaws they'd found in their equipment to Plasmius' ecto-electric attacks. He still had another meeting with those same engineers about defenses to hydokinesis. His jaw smarted as he ground his teeth together, gaze flitting over the rest of the week's schedule.
Three days. That's all they had left before another meeting with the President and the F.B. He'd promised they could get into contact with one of the hybrids, five days had been generous, a boon, as morbid as the cause, of recovering from Colorado. Now, their only lead was a dead end, and the goons down in engineering were blowing up his inbox whining about his impossible design revisions. So, he was going to spend the afternoon patiently explaining to America's finest mechanical and electrical engineers how the new alloy he'd made yesterday could do exactly what he said it did. Sure, he'd discovered that niche effect in magnetized ecto-steel two weeks back and had hybridized it with titanium only last night, but the data was perfect; they just didn't understand his calculations. This was why Maddie—He stopped himself with a groan. He'd barely caught of glimpse of her red hair weaving through his soldiers, fending them off with ease, but he couldn't get her out of his mind. If only the soldiers of GSU werehalf as good as her, they might have caught the blasted hybrids already. Wishful thinking, women like Madeline are one of a kind...nearly one of a kind. He amended, thinking of the Vice Commander.
He waved a hand to pull up a map of the engagement site and likely escape routes. The creatures would have vacated by now, spilling out of the innards of the mountains like some radioactive taint. Most paths took them out of the area and back east. His instincts told him they went north or west, if only because Plasmius knew it was harder to do, and they'd think he wouldn't, or more likely couldn't. He didn't have anything to support his hunch this time, though, and they couldn't chase down every trail. It'd been a few days, and they could be states away by now. Another wave of his hand brought up the list of large facilities in the area. Most were back towards the Mississippi: Amity, Austin, Houston, New Orleans, the Black Hills, but there was the new one in Heber City, Utah. He nodded to himself, selecting it from the list.
"Get me on the line with the commanding officer at the Heber facility." He spoke to no one in particular. One of his lowly communication grunts would see to it soon enough. He tabbed through the details on their newest answer to the Holes in the West with growing pride. They'd spared no expense, and the local community had been eager to subsidize much of the construction cost. Right now, most of the officers were imports, but with such nice equipment and training grounds, it would be their new shining jewel of the mountains. It would serve as a beacon to mold the newest minds and bodies of the GSU on the West Coast.
"Officer T," she greeted. The woman's face on the other end flickered in surprise for a blink before sliding back to blank, a proper soldier's parade resting bitch face. They trained for it in the academy, made dealing with the press much easier. "Head Commander, to what do I owe the pleasure?" She'd must have known it was a call from HQ, but not expected him.
"I wanted to inform you the attempt to contact the rogue Amity hybrid failed. Your facility is the closest to the last known sighting and the best prepared to intercept if they are spotted again nearby. If you see anything out of the ordinary, no matter how tiny the blip, I want to know about it and I want you to treat it as a fully confirmed hybrid sighting."
"Don't," She stopped herself, aware suddenly of contradicting her superior officer in front of HQ. That wouldn't have gone unremarked back in her original military branch.
"Yes, overkill, I'm sure that's what you're thinking? I understand, but we need any trace that we can get. Don't worry about the cost or political consequences, that's on my head, not yours. Act in good faith, and I'll cover you." He watched her eyebrows scrunch a moment before she nodded. He tried to remember where she was from. Transfers all made the same face the first time they got a taste of how the GSU operated. Ah, well, not important at the moment. "I know this is mostly a training facility, but you've got state-of-the-art capture equipment on site. Call in the sighting if you get it, and we'll send back up if you need more senior officers." She did smile then, all teeth and too bright eyes. Army then.
"Don't worry about that, Commander, if you check the records, I think you'll find even our interns are up to the task." She saluted, a prim crisp snap to attention, and cut the call when given permission. He did check the records then, curious why she was so confident. A list of volunteers from away teams, mostly veterans of the war, came up when he checked the list of officers, and not just in the higher ranks. Soon, he found himself swiping through the test results of the new recruits and even their interns. Ah, so that's why Officer T was so proud. The Heber facility already was the west's shining jewel; he'd just been too distracted by dealings in D.C to notice.
6:01am; GSU Facility; Heber City, Utah
The white limestone and steel building cut an imposing figure against the deep azure of the sky and the black of the mountains in the distance. It was all modern angles, sharp points, metal, an artificial affront to the delicate natural beauty of the landscape behind it. It was wholly a testament to human power and advancement, a shining temple whose dutiful acolytes lined up in neat rows on the manicured lawn, organic nature as tamed as the Augustine they trod upon. A group clad in equally brilliant white strode as an undulating mass, sharp even steps bringing them to a stop on the outskirts of the facility grounds. They passed, one by one, reverent supplication spilling from each mouth, an entreaty for entrance, a solemn focused ritual, halting calls echoing into the looming daybreak, as they marched to the guard station window and pressed IDs into the scanners.
On the other side, they gathered back into their groups, lines horizontal instead of vertical, in front of the darker clad officers, awaiting further inspection. Roll call, in shouts as dull as they were roaring, carried out over the quiet dewy morning lawn. The entire ritual completed, they marched inside, footfalls a drum beat of focused will against the unyielding concrete, thumping punctuation against the otherwise silent air. "Alright, Greenless guppies, listen up. I'm sure you're wondering: Why roll call when we have your IDs logged into the facility computers just minutes ago? The answer is: you brats aren't a high enough rank to ask questions. You don't get to think about procedures, or give suggestions about efficiency, yourjob is to follow orders. Get used to listening to directions, even ones you think are tedious, or pointless, or any other babbleheaded nonsense rattling around in your empty skulls. I don't want to hear complaints, I want tohear 'yes sir.'." He stopped, glaring down his nose at the group of interns before him, the newest summer batch. Most schools weren't out yet, so the kids here had gotten special permission to join this internship, good grades and good behavior. He'd learned smarts and discipline were often enemies in America's youth, so it was best to get them trained at following orders early. "I don't hear any 'yes sirs'! Where are they Greenless?!"
"Yes sir!" The shout rang out from the group in front of him, enthusiastic in the pre-dawn hours. He kept his smile internal, the interns always started every summer full of pep. It'd be exciting to see who could keep it up.
"Good. I'm sure you've noticed I'm wearing darker spandex than you. This isn't just some fit of fashion, this is a GSU issued combat suit. The cute white ones you have on are for desk duty. If you Greenless can keep it together, one day you'll be given the honor of donning one of these yourself. Until then, I expect you to recognize you're in white because you're meant to stay clean. Keep your hands out of trouble." He marched down the line, eyeing each of them in turn. He'd read their profiles the night before to re-familiarize himself with their individual peculiarities. There were a few from Amity this year, a surprise, since they had their own facility and summer programs. Although, children do love shiny new things. He reasoned, walking briskly back to the center of his line of interns. "You are not cadets." He stopped again to let it sink in. "I'm sure you've filled your head with ideas of going out on missions and shooting ghosts, but you are mistaken. This internship is to get you familiar with the basics of ectology and weaponry. You're going to spend your days in classes and on the target range." He enjoyed the groans coming from the teens, they'd teach the best of them to stifle such pointless reactions eventually. "Quit your bitching," he snickered when some of the kids gaped at his swearing, "if you make it past two internships with recommendations, you can enter the Academy early. There, you'll get all the low level action a cadet could ask for."
"Oh yes, cleaning latrines, scrubbing floors, changing bedding, chem-blasting ectoplasm off of uniforms, I don't miss scrub duty Office A, do you?"
"Not one little bit Communications Officer C. Greenless, this is Comms Officer Colbert Kendrick. You will also refer to him as 'sir'. You will come to find, on your stay, that you'll spend it saying six words: 'yes', 'no', 'sir', 'ma'am', 'please', and 'thank you'."
"'Thank you' is two words...sir."
"Right you are smart ass! Since you're so keen to count, why don't you drop and give me 70 burpees." He got one every year with that trick. "Any other corrections?" His eyes traveled down the length of the group once more, stopping on a young woman in perfect parade rest. Thick coils of dark hair tucked tight in a regulation bun, not a hair out of place or styled for personality, keen, intense green eyes in a serious face, she hadn't so much as winced at his previous ploys. "What's your name, intern?"
"Gray, Valerie." She answered, soft and even, not a bit of wasted breath or energy.
"Intern Gray," she hadn't even glanced down at the young man next to her wheezing through his burpees, "where are you from?"
"Amity Park, Michigan." Another direct and focused answer, no superfluous information about her age or family, no descriptions of her hometown or blabbering about how much she wanted to be here, she was laser focused efficiency. He was beginning to like this one.
"Intern Gray, do you know why that Greenless next to you is wheezing?"
"Poor cardiovascular conditioning." Ok, he was really starting to like her. There was a personality in there; she could snark.
"That's true. You hear that Greenless? If you don't want to be sweating through your new suits and gasping for air like a fish at 6:30am, consider adding some jogging to your exercise routines. Once your little friend is finished with his morning warm-up, we'll continue our tour of the facility." He stared down at the wobbling young man, counting off the remaining moves with disinterest. He shook his head when the kid flopped over, 20 something before his allotted number. "Intern Gray," he was prodding now, trying to see her personality, "do you think you could do 70 unlike that Greenless mess next to you?"
"No sir," honest then, he thought before she interrupted, "I could do 100." Her face split into a grin, the first real expression he'd seen from her all morning. Oh? Now, this is interesting. "Well then, 'Miss Confidence', let's see it." Either she was trying to be funny, or she was really that good. A few minutes would set that straight…
And so it had. The other group nearest them had taken to staring the moment she'd hit the ground. Her pace wasn't the only thing impressive about the display, her lack of heavy breathing after all that exertion really sold it. "Looks like Intern Gray was correct. He was doing all that wheezing from lack of cardiovascular conditioning. Intern Smart Ass, what's your name?"
"It's… Joel Franklin sir."
"Well, interns, what do you think? Should we call him 'Smart Ass' or 'Wheezer' until he's earned his name back? Raise your hand if you think 'Wheezer'." He counted the votes, and didn't bother asking about the second option, it'd won in a landslide. "So, Intern Wheezer, do you have any other pressing corrections you want to make?"
"No…sir."
"What's that? You don't sound very grateful for your new nickname. What do you say?"
"Thank you sir!"
"See! Now that this fun distraction is done, let's head deeper into the facility." He didn't acknowledge Intern Gray's stunning performance, he wanted to see how she dealt with a lack of praise and attention. She didn't even blink, just snapping her feet together and joining the rest of her group in their march deeper inside. Oh yes, she's worth keeping an eye on. He tossed a look to his fellow officers, noticing most had similar opinions. Officer L was difficult to impress, but it was still early. He might have the summer's new star on his hands.
They worked their way past another set of security doors, and finally entered the facility proper. The antechamber previous was a welcome lobby, here was where the GSU began their work. "Alright, Greenless, consider this the main lobby. To your right, is the hall that leads to the wing where your classrooms are situated. To my left, leads to everything physical: shooting range, obstacle courses, gyms, the works. Behind me? That's where the labs are. I can see some of you getting excited, and yes you will get to see them during your internship. If your scores in your relevant classes are high enough, some of you will get to aid in experiments as well. The labs include pure theory work, ecto-biology, and the engineering facilities. No matter what areas of the science you fancy, there's something for you. That cafe is also farther behind me, before you get to the labs. That's our first stop, because we need to make sure we feed you before you run all those obstacle courses later today to get a physical baseline." He turned sharply on his heel and marched forward towards the cafeteria. "Your IDs will only get you into the cafe or your classrooms without permission from either your commanding officer, which is me, or two other facility officers. So, don't go trying to talk some other GSU agent into letting you do some hot dog shit behind my back. The fastest and easiest way to get what you want is to convince me." He waved a hand into the broad space behind him, "Welcome to the cafe Interns."
Calling it a 'cafeteria' undersold the grandeur of Heber City's GSU facilities by a wide margin. Inside, the roof arched up thirty feet, topped with glass panes, thick and ghost proof, that looked up into the brightening morning sky. There were thick pillars of marble and limestone holding up the broad ceiling, itself made of Ghost Zone stone shot through with golden swirls of raw ectoranium. On top of giving the whole room a constant glow, it served as an extra layer of ghost proofing, a subtle and artistic choice insisted on by their local benefactors. The floors were polished dark stone, something deep black and studded with glints of glass, a form of volcanic rock. When he'd looked into it, he'd found it too was from the Zone. The exotic rock was called Scoria, the sparkles ectoradium glass, once again naturally ghost proof. The tables were burnished steel, the gray a lovely addition to the monochrome of the palette for the room. It was wide enough to house 4,000 agents for meals, and tall enough to have a second floor dedicated to growing local produce they could use to ameliorate the costs of feeding the soldiers inside. He smirked when he saw the interns faces. Truthfully, he'd had the same reaction the first time he'd seen it, but he wouldn't let them know that. "Curb the gawking Greenless, it's just a cafeteria. You have those are your schools, don't you? Officer D, please tell me America's public schools aren't in so terrible a state as to lack lunchrooms? What this country coming to?"
"Come on, Officer A, you know this is the nicest meal galley they've ever seen. Lighten up!" Officer D always seemed the nicest of them when the summer started. He was smiling, jovial, constantly cracking jokes. He had that same levity and bright smile when he made interns run in the sweltering heat until they vomited or told them 'your family will die if you can't put this ecto-gun together!'. A real sadist, they had to get him transferred out of intern duty next year.
He shrugged, "It's been years since I've been to a high school; you interns will have to tell me." He looked down at his watch, a show, he already knew the time. "It is 0647, or 6:47am for you fancy dressed civvies. Breakfast officially starts at 7:00am for you brats.Class starts at 8. You have the hour to grab food, and get to the first class on your schedule. I suggest you finish eating early so you have time to wander around looking for it, Tardiness is punished. No exceptions. I will see you for afternoon physical training, dismissed." He waited until they managed clumsy, and one singular sharp, salutes before he nodded and headed towards the officer's section of the mess hall. He needed to unwind before he had to spend the afternoon guiding flopping teens through how to do pull-ups and jumping jacks.
The group milled around near the entrance for a few moments before spotting other interns in a line against one of the walls. A few seconds of observation revealed that's where the trays and food came from, so they walked over to join them, still a little starstruck by the scope of the room. "Intern Franklin."
"Ah, come'on Intern Gray, I thought his name was 'Wheezer'." A tall, jar headed male intern, quipped.
"I didn't vote for that." She caught up to the other teen, taking in his hunched shoulders and reddened ears. "I wasn't trying to show you up."
"Could have fooled me, 'Miss Confidence'." She rolled her eyes, settling behind him in line.
"If I was trying to embarrass you, I'd have done 250." She let him marinate on that for a moment, taking in the way he clenched his fists.
"You can't—"
"Intern Wheezer, is that a bet you really want to take?" The original boy needled.
"Yeah, she just did 100 without breaking a sweat." Another girl offered.
"Fine, maybe she could, but couldn't you have just done 70?"
"I am trying to make a good impression, not at your expense, but I need a recommendation, so I can join the advanced internship next year." She tried to catch his eye, but he continued ducking her gaze. "It's nothing personal, you shouldn't have talked back."
"What, are you some army brat?"
"My dad's a scientist, Axiom Labs."
"Mom then?" She didn't respond to that, just took a step forward in line.
"She's fromAmity, asshole, probably a bad idea to ask probing questions about their families." Another intern, three spots ahead of them in line, shot over their shoulder.
"It's fine. You ask something I don't want to answer, I just won't. So, that's Intern Franklin, what about you other two?" One was from her group, the other girl the group next to their own at roll call lineups.
"Williams."
"Ishiyama," she leaned closer to the shorter girl, angling her head down, "there's some other people from Amity here, you know them?" She whispered.
Valerie shook her head, then turned it to the side, "older than me, from a different part of town. Never met." That wasn't entirely true, she'd seen them at other GSU events over the years, but they'd never connected. "Your name sounds familiar, though."
"My mom's the principal of Casper High."
"Ah," she didn't pay attention to things like that, maybe she should, "I go to Casper, but I don't think I've seen you there."
"Private school," the other girl replied, reaching around her to grab a tray, "mom and dad don't hate public institutions, I'm just going to Razorback."
That made sense. Any kid who really wanted into the GSU went there; they had a feeder program into the Amity Academy and the teachers were often former GiW or active ectologist, a future hunter's dream school, expensive as an uninsured trip to the hospital. "Jealous, I'd love to go, but dad's a stickler for a more 'well-rounded' education." She was nearly at the front now, and she started eyeing the food.
"I wondered why I hadn't seen you Gray. You're at every training camp and sleep away event the GSU holds. Your dad's the security genius of Axiom; no way you couldn't afford tuition."
"Daddy wants me to make friends outside of hunters." She heard the other girl laugh behind her and pointed to the hash-browns. Intern Franklin had gone for some oatmeal and fruit. "You should grab some more protein, Franklin, it'll make the training easier this afternoon."
"I'll fall asleep in class."
"It's an icebox in here, Wheezer, no way anyone could fall asleep!"
"Stop calling me that, Williams."
"When you earn your name back, Wheezer." She could hear the smirk on the other boy's lips, as he snagged a peach and headed towards a table.
"Hey, ignore him, Intern Franklin. He's talking all that noise right now, but," she stopped to look Williams up and down across the distance, "he's a meathead. I bet he plays football, O-line or something? They never do enough flexibility training, and they are gonna make us pretzel later today for the obstacle course. Also, I bet his calisthenics are complete trash; he won't be able to lift his own weight either."
"Why are you being nice to me?"
"I'm not being nice; I'm being honest. You don't have to let that side of beef get under your skin." She grabbed some berries, nice low sugar carbs, and followed him towards a table. Behind her was Ishiyama, who seemed inclined to follow her as a fellow Amity resident. "You mind?" She motioned to the spot next to him and then slid into place, already poking at her breakfast.
"Could have at least waited until I answered."
"I was just asking to be polite."
"You really gonna eat all that?" He leered at her spread, affronted by her lack of manners or maybe the gusto she was digging into her meal.
"This is why I beat you at burpees. You have to eat if you want to build muscle." She rolled up the Intern suit to show off her bicep to his increasingly depressed looking face. She laughed when Ishiyama rolled up her sleeve to do the same, and his face filled with despair. "You want guns like me and Ishiyama, eat more calories."
"Why are you two here?" He was changing the subject, but it was a legitimate curiosity. "Doesn't Amity have its own internship?"
"Amity's facility is great, and the integration with Razorback is excellent." She took in Franklin's look with a shrug and another shovel of eggs. "Same reason Gray is here, I bet."
"Action." He did sigh then, as if their commanding officer hadn't just explained they wouldn't see any.
"What action Gray? They won't even let us shoot at moving targets."
"They wouldn't letyou shoot at moving targets. Me though? I'll convince them to put me on patrol before the end of the week."
"Come on, Intern Gray—"
"—I will!"
"If you want action so badly, why come to the middle of the Mountain Deadzone? Everyone knows the teams doing real expedition work in the Zone are in the Black Hills or Amity…or D.C."
"I didn't say expedition work, Franklin, I saidaction. All the latest sightings of the hybrids are on the west side of the Mississippi. One in California a year ago, a scuffle near Idaho, another in New Mexico, and a little birdy in Amity told me there was just an engagement in Colorado." She finished off her breakfast, walking her tray with towards the return with the rest of the group. "If you paid attention, you'd realize this is the best place to get some Earth-side action." She watched his face pale to a spoiled milk blotchy white and started laughing. "Oh no, Intern Franklin, did you come all the way out here from?"
"Jersey."
"Ha, Jersey? Ok, from the East Coast thinking it'd be quiet?"
"Right into the middle of the storm, Gray, just his luck!" Ishiyama threw an arm over his shoulders and leaned down towards the top of his head, "Hey man, don't worry. We won't let any hybrids blast you, or possess you, or eat you."
"Eat," the boy looked clammy then, all dripping sweat and printer paper white.
"They don't eat people Intern Franklin, calm down some. It is funny you chose this internship location expecting quiet though. But Ishiyama's right, stick by us, and you'll be fine." He swallowed thickly and wiggled out from under the taller girl's heavy embrace.
"What makes you think we'd see action even if we somehow spotted those critters?" The two girls shared a look before rolling their eyes.
"Intern Franklin, the closest facility to a hybrid spotting is 'All Hands On Deck'. As long as we pass our combat assessment later today, we'll be pulled in as emergency back-up." This time, the other boy really did look like he'd faint.
"Don't worry, dude, you're not gonna pass. Flopping out after 41 burpees? Yeah, no way. Me though? I've been training for this since…well, you know, Gray." She did know. They'd both probably been training since Amity burned. It would be five years in a few weeks.
"Owing to the fact you've got spaghetti for arms and nerves, you'll be sat here. Williams too, since he doesn't seem the type to keep calm under fire or to be able to touch his toes." The girls giggled at that last statement, dragging a shaken Franklin along with them towards the classroom section of the facility.
As luck would have it, they all shared a first class. Their schedules differed after that, but it gave them a chance to get settled with someone with whom they had brief familiarity. Valerie sat in the front of the classroom, her desktop containing only a single empty notebook and a pen and pencil to take notes. The first class covered chemistry, and some of the particulars that fed into ectology's subset of the subject, so it wasn't her favorite. Her preference was for engineering and physics, but Ishiyama, sitting next to her, was bright-eyed and excited. She'd whispered at the start of class that she wanted to aid in the production of new ectopoisons and sedatives. A noble goal, since subduing the hybrids with brute force was proving so difficult.
Their teacher was one Science Specialist G, the man behind the gas bombs that immobilized ghosts. His enthusiasm was contagious, despite her lack of interest, and she found herself in a great mood by the time she was waving goodbye to both Ishiyama and Franklin. The next two class were history. One with an emphasis on reviewing past combat engagements, the other covered the history of the science. The first interested her more.
They played video from some ghost captures and used strategy from GSU manuals to critique battle tactics and martial techniques. She scored some points with the teacher of this class by pointing out the flaws in the capture of a ghost called 'Spectra' in 2001. The main team had been Lebanon's ghost hunting unit, but the GSU had soldiers stationed in the embassy, and they hadn't coordinated well with the locals. The teacher agreed, and explained that's why a Standard Rules of Engagement was being developed by an international committee of specialists. A few of her fellow interns wanted to be analysts. Too far from the ground for her taste, she needed to feel the ghosts' innards splash on her spandex.
Then, they pulled up some records from a recent expedition into the Zone that included the Head Commander. It had been a long time since she'd seen the man in person; the video did everything to help his mystique and aura. She had to admit, he was a force of nature in battle. It was hard to find a single fault in his personal combat style, in either hand-to-hand or ranged, but his real gift was in battle tactics. The tape rolled to the end, and the teacher waited expectantly over the silent group of teens.
"Come on, I'm sure you can think of something to talk about."
"How do we critique perfection?" A nervous set of giggles went through the room, but she had to agree with the other teens. There were bits here and there that looked less than textbook, but when placed into the context of the situation were the optimal choices.
"Intern Gray?" He sounded curious. Shehad had something to say to every other tape.
"I can't find any faults either, Analyst S." His smile was indulgent then, hands tapping on the podium in front of him.
"I was maybe expecting too much from you Interns. Would you like to see the Commander's own notes about the battle?" He waited in the heavy, buzzing silence of the classroom, gaze traveling over the heads of all the newest students. He waited longer, raising an eyebrow at their continued quiet.
"Yes sir!" One of the interns in the back answered with a grin.
"Good." He pulled it up and watched their faces fall in consternation at the sheerlength of the list. "You all seem shocked. Did you think an expert eye would be as easily stumped as your own?" He scrolled down the list, slow enough to capture the size without letting them really snatch onto any particular bit. "I'm going to hand this out in printed form. Your job this evening is to go through this list and, to the best of your ability, analyze how you would put these suggestions into practice in the same situation. Naturally, some of them will be too difficult for you to understand or implement, but it's a long list. I want five from each of you!" He stopped in front of Intern Gray, watched her eyes scan the list still on the projector with a growing shine to her gaze. "Anything you'd like to say class?"
"I think the suggested change to the squadron formation to counteract the third group of ghosts is ill-thought out." Valerie's even tone didn't match the thumping staccato in her chest.
"Why's that Gray?"
"I'll tell you tomorrow." Her tone was smug then, confidence and fire rolling up her spine, leaving it straight and her step bouncy as she headed to her next class. Her little stunt earned her whispered attention from other teens in the next class.
"Aren't you from Amity?" Everyone knew she was by now.
"Did you meet the Head Commander?" Everyone in Amity had, at least from distance, once.
"Did you get to see him fight in person when it all went down?" This one earned them the ectostudies history teacher's glare. A fierce looking woman with just a few crows feet, the only tell to her real age across her battle hardened body.
"I hear any more psst pssst psst coming from you Interns, and you'll have a 2,000-word essay due tomorrow." Agent N looked up from her notes just to emphasize the point, before continuing her lecture about the origins of ghost hunting.
That didn't stop them from passing notes. Well? Did you see him in person? She crumpled the note, dropping it into her bag as she went for her pencil sharpener. No. She mouthed over her shoulder at the nosy intern who'd asked. Did you meet him after? When he was doing a tour of the schools? This she could answer yes to, when she needed to change notebooks. Before they could sneak another question towards her, class ended, with the essay. Not her fault. Some other interns had found Ishiyama, and couldn't control themselves. Oh well, two thousands words were nothing for her.
"Sooooo," Intern Williams drawled while sliding up beside her in the hall. "Did you ever meet Jack Fenton?"
"Oh come on, he's a celebrity!"
"He did use to live in Amity Park, right?" Williams quipped back, looking at Intern Garcia.
"Well, he did, but no way her and Ishiyama met him just by living there…did you?" The other teen looked hopeful, some Fenton fanboy no doubt.
"I've met him."
"No shit Ishiyama!"
"It's true. My family knows the Mansons, and they're in politics, so we met at some fundraiser dinner thing."
"Is he as cool in person as he is on those battle videos?"
"You had those too, huh?" Valerie and her group of interns made it back into the cafeteria and stood against one side, waiting for the metal gates to open up when lunch started.
"Duh! Everyone knows it's the best study material."
"Everyone but Intern Gray, I hear. Something about his group tactics suggestion being wrong?"
"Oh come on, Gray, you can't actually think—"
"—You'll find out what I think tomorrow."
"He beat the ghost dragon in single combat! We got to see the video in class." Williams sounded impressed, the empty-headed bumpkin.
"That old thing? I've seen it a dozen times already. Yeah, it's impressive, but do they show the Pariah fight outside of Amity?"
"Tokids? What do they teach you people in that town?"
"How to defend ourselves." The grates opened with a smooth rumble, corrugated steel retracting into the recesses of the window. They started walking over.
"Is that because of the attack on downtown?" She ignored Garcia.
"Did you know anyone who died?"
"What kind of fucked up question is that?" Intern Franklin was back, having joined them after the last physics and engineering class of the day. "You don't have to answer that."
"Of course, they know people who died; they live in Amity." They made it sound simple, pat, neat. Some factoid found in a children's Fun Fact's book or pulled up for a trivia game. "You can't just ask people that, Williams."
"Lay off! I haven't met anyone from Amity or Austin or whatever, I just wanted to know—"
"—What? If we had some friends who bit it? Or maybe some family? Want to know if they came back as ghosts and the GSU had to hunt them down?"
"No Gray, what the fuck…" The silence stretched out as they finished their march across the cafeteria to get in line for lunch before physical training. "But, I mean, did some people—"
"—Holy shit, Williams, your brain is as thick and meaty as your pecs."
"Come on, rocks for brains, be sensitive for five seconds."
"Everyone lost someone in the attacks, Williams." She cut through the arguing, voice quiet and heavy with emotion. "You know, they even had to dig out preschoolers from the rubble? Squished completely flat sometimes, just a smear of blood and broken bones. They had a lot of closed casket funerals, on account of the debris or the ectoburns, or you know? Plasmius has ecto-electric powers. Some of them were charred blacker than this floor, nothing but ash and burnt flesh stretched over exposed bone with crispy tendons and fat."
"Enough Gray, you're gonna scare the ghost virgins in our little group."
"I thought they wanted to know Ishiyama?" She shrugged at their pinched and green looking faces, nonplussed. "You wanna know why Amity's recruits always take top spots at the Academies around the country? Well, now you know." She passed a tray behind and above her, dropping it into the other girl's solid grip. "I already told you Franklin, me and Ishiyama are going to pass our combat assessment this afternoon. I've been training for this since I was 10. They release updated pictures of the hybrids right? I've got one of Plasmius' face glued to my heavy bag; I box it every night before bed."
"I've got one of Second Priority's ugly fucking mug, on a heavy just like you, Gray." The line moved forward, still silent save for the two girls' conversation.
"You think I'm bad? Paulina Sanchez stayed in Amity because her dad's on the police force. She's got an in to the Amity Park patrols, and she's been on them for the last year. Amity's internship starts in another week, andshe's already got approval for some practice runs into the Zone."
"You couldn't talk her into coming?"
"She wanted practical combat this summer, not just a chance at it. She's trying to spend her last two years of high school at the D.C Academy. So she wants combat hours."
"Should've seen her at last year's boot-camp; she's still wearing her best friend's headband, by the way. One guess why for the peanut gallery." She pointed out a few things to the employees, and watched the food slapped onto her tray with dull eyes. "For me though? It isn't personal; This is about justice. Those ghosts ruined my town and scarred people for life. They think they can get off scot-free? No. They've got to die." She was at the end of the line now, a tray filled up with quick burning energy and protein for the afternoon ahead. "The Head Commander isn't as good as they say; he's better." She watched them shuffle their feet, trying to avoid her piercing gaze. She turned around, dismissing their pity. "If you yahoos ever want to actually serve this country, you'll try to be one hundredth as good." She called over her shoulder, already bee-lining for a table.
Ishiyama and Franklin joined her, chattering away about some TV show, trying to lift the mood and fill the awkward silence from the topic in line. She let them. She finished her food and did some deep breathing. It'd be showtime soon.
"You worried about the assessment?" They were standing in line now, preparing to be handed weapons.
"I was born for this girl," she reached across the counter to pick up her training blaster, "and so were you."
"Nah Valerie," she jumped, the other girl hadn't used her first name all day. "Neither of us were born for this, we were re-born into this." She snatched up her own blaster and joined her in their row, preparing for the ranged assessment.
"Reborn, huh? Baptized in fire."
"With the rest of Amity Park." She agreed, before pointing her blaster at their target and letting loose a barrage.
They'd passed the first assessment with flying colors, the second and third too. The fourth was a written exam, and the fifth hand-to-hand combat. Her only real challenge was Ishiyama, but she'd trained to take down bigger opponents. It was 2-1 in the end. The other girl's smile reminded her of Paulina back home: wicked, wild, a little unstable. She'd be a good teammate.
Now, they just had to wait for the written exam to come back. She scuffed her foot against the steel floor, tapping out an uneven beat, out of sync with the movement of her fingers on her crossed arms.
"Chill Gray, you know we both passed."
"I know because I passed the full mock exam at the last boot-camp a few months back, and I'm better now. What I'm worried about is my scores."
"You want on a specific team?"
"Retrieval." She heard the other girl bark, slapping a hand against somewhere on her body in amusement.
"Even you'd have trouble with that girlie. They expect real cadet level scores."
I'm me. She wanted to say, but didn't. Sheliked Ishiyama, it wouldn't do any good to alienate her by sounding arrogant. They heard a ping that warned them the scores would be posted in a minute.Finally. She marched over to the electronic board counting down the seconds until the scores popped up. Each area had a separate score. She didn't just need to pass the total amount, she had minimums she was aiming for in every subsection. The seconds ticked by, and she was joined on her right by Ishiyama, breath coming to her in short pants. She played cool, but she wanted this as badly as her.
Finally, the scores popped up, and for the first time since she opened her eyes this morning, she felt excitement. She pumped her fist and let out a whoop, loud enough to drown out several of the disappointed groans next to her. Cadet level scores, now she was cooking with propane. She glanced across the score board, Ishiyama was her closest in the overall scores, getting second, but there were a few high scores worth noting. Franklin even beat her in the long range assessment. She caught his eye and he smiled. "I want to be a sniper."
"Not a lot of open positions for that."
"There is on urban warfare teams; they need real accurate shots with civilians around."
"How did you beat me in the physical agility and strength tests, Gray!"
"You're a meathead, Williams. You don't have the flexibility and strength for half of the test. Maybe do some yoga."
"Oh fuck off you smug—"
"Intern Gray," their commanding officer cut through the chatter, his stern tone doing more than his volume. "A word, Miss Confidence." He inclined his head away from the group, aiming to talk with her privately.
She walked away from the other teens, clipped regimented steps an even patter against the metal floor. "Yes sir."
"Intern, I see you've scored high enough on your assessment to earn a place on any team. Did you have one in mind?"
"Retrieval."
"Intern Gray, I appreciate the enthusiasm, even the skill, but that's no place for an intern." He'd thought she had more sense than this. He felt his lips pulling downward with his brows, trying to form a sneer. No, that won't do. He had to redirect her, not seem condescending.
"Sir, you've read my profile, seen my scores, why the hesitation?"
"That's real combat, young lady."
"We signed a waiver."
"This isn't a game! There's no glory, respawns, or mercy. That isn't a place for children."
"Those creatures owe me blood." She knew her what her face looked like right now, had seen it in the mirror every time she couldn't keep hold of the rage. She ground her teeth and glared up at the officer in front of her, willing him to understand this. "This is real to me, to every person where I'm from. I know how dangerous they are, and I want to end them. I know I'm good enough. I know I can do this. Are you going to let me, or do I have to run over you to get to them?" Heat ran over her skin, claws of rage and frustration, chills of despair and sorrow. "They took everything from us, our sense of safety, our economy and wealth, the lives of our friends and family. I'm going to take everything from them for Amity's sake. Don't be an obstacle."
"Calm down!" When he looked down into her furious face, it reminded him of a cage inferno. Like a fire in a boiler that powered a steam engine, controlled, potent, a force of nature turned to abstract pursuits; it could still burn wild. "I just need you to be sure. You're only fifteen, Valerie. No matter how badly you want this, it's different when you're staring down death."
"I won't be. Death will be staring down me when I pull the trigger and send them the rest of the way to their eternal End. Let me fight; you won't regret this." He sighed then, realizing he'd no chance of talking her out of this. He felt his frustration growing, even as he resigned himself to the decision.
"You follow every instruction, or you're benched."
"Sir, yes sir!" Look out, ghost scum, I'm finally coming for you.
A/N:
Welcome to the bottom, dear reader! Today, I also updated my newest fanfic Passion and Plasamatic Plague. If you haven't already started it, go take a look! It was a fun story to make for Ectoimplosion, and it'll be updating until March of next year.
Can't wait for more updates to this and other stories? Feel free to follow my art/writing blog for snippets, lore posts, meta, and more!
Blog: balshumetsbaragouin . tumblr . com
As always, my lovelies, R&R!