#color coded nerds

hahahaha that is the doc name for Universe Collision (......oh jesus christ i hadn't looked at the update date in a while, what do you mean over three years), the big RvB WIP I left behind me when I drifted out of that fandom--title is from the first work, a fix-it canon divergence where Alison lives and co-directs Project Freelancer, and then something goes wrong and drops this alternate version of PFL on Chorus just at the start of S13. i WILL finish this one day. (man, I had to go look at the fic to remember which of this bit isn't actually posted yet. I have some stuff written and notes!! I just need to like....buckle down. someday.)

South snorts under her breath at the way the talky bastard freezes up, when Carolina doesn’t recognize him. It’s maybe a mistake, because he turns to glare at her next.

“Come on. If you wanted to pull a power play you should’ve picked a better one. We know you’re here to kill us.”

“I mean, we can be,” South offers. She hefts her manacled-together hands. “Take your helmets off and shut down that shield and I’ll give you a two-for-one bludgeoning.” She shuts up after Carolina gives her a Look. Right, not her turn to talk.

“Thanks for the generous offer, but I’m afraid I’ll have to pass,” he informs her, loftily. Bastard.

“Felix,” says the quiet sonuvabitch. “Enough.”

“Shut up. I’m not done. Two months you assholes have been taunting us—leading us on a wild goose chase—and now you don’t have anything to say for yourselves?”

Carolina stays quiet. South sneaks a glance over and sees that little furrow between her brows that means she’s thinking.

“Oh, come on,” Felix says, voice rising in frustration. “At least give me something. I gotta say, Wash, your new friends are quieter than your old ones. Think that’ll help them live longer?”

“Do I know you?” Wash asks, screech level rising. “Did I piss in your cornflakes or something?”

“Look, I know you’re good at it, but don’t play dumb. We know your face.”

“Oh, actually, there’s—”

South takes a step over and elbows Wash before he can blurt out valuable tactical information to the jackasses holding them captive.

Assuming this is for the director's cut fic ask meme! so from Universe Collision:

<Oh, golly gee, look who finally broke radio silence! Fucking thanks for that, by the way, that didn’t freak everyone out at all. I mean, I guess the cleanup crew’s been nice, but—>

<My team needs to talk to your team, let me in the fucking call already.>

<Ahahaha, how about no.>

<How about you suck my digital dick, you miserable cretin!>

There’s a long pause as both Churches take a minute to shut up their Omega fragments.

<Yeah, I’m hanging up now.>

<No!>

Epsilon waits, trying to project the ‘this had better be really fucking good’ aura he’s been trying to pick up from Carolina.

ooh yeah! That was fun. Church is never really a narrator in UC, not as Alpha or as Epsilon, so I never really get to dig into what's going on with him. Which is, Epsilon kind of gave Alpha the same kind of fragment ghosts he has, like a virus. Because he's just thought and code and if he fixates on a thought too long it just becomes part of him, so in the background Alpha has been playing those memories over and over and accidentally made those emotional sides of him a hell of a lot more articulated. so now he's got a little Omega fragment bundle of anger too.

Church...doesn't really get along with himself. For all that Epsilon in the glimpse we see of his inner workings in S12 seems to have gotten pretty comfortable with all of his aspects, I don't think being confronted with a younger version of himself he sees as more complete would go...well. Or happily. He's a very sharp person and sharpest with himself, so in this one conversation where both Alpha and Epsilon are stressed they're just slicing at each other with nothing held back. By the time Omega's rearing his head they're both realizing this is a bad conversation to be in and they need to take it down a notch. Epsilon, once he clears his head, is also remembering 'hey, I don't like this guy, and I can walk away.' which is a good thought for him to have! even if for plot reasons i need him not to.

In another universe, Allison lived. Allison went on to become the military liaison and lead trainer for Project Freelancer.

This is not that universe.

Or: Years after Allison Church survives what should have been a fatal engagement, the Alpha squad she trained finds themselves crashing in a world where she didn't.

it might be taking a while but BOY WE’RE GETTING THERE. 

oh god i’ve never done this before

“What. The fuck.”

Locus was wearing full armor, with an extra set of added spikes across the shoulders, painted all kinds of pretty colors, and he still managed to look sheepish. “I am…truly sorry.”

When Tucker had gotten a call from his and Junior’s adopted Sangheili clan head saying they had finally managed to fulfill their duties and find Tucker a spouse, he had been expecting some poor colony shmuck at gunpoint. Not an ex-mercenary.

“If I had known they would inflict this on you, I wouldn’t have come here.”

Tucker narrowed his eyes. “Nah. we can make this work.”

GUESS WHO WAS LOCKED IN A CAR FOR SIX HOURS AND MANAGED TO USE THE TIME TO ACTUALLY WRITE AN UPDATE. EXCERPT BELOW, LINK IN REBLOG. 

“We have a problem,” Epsilon announces, getting their attention off of Caboose’s gasoline drinking habit.

“What is it?” Well, some of their attention. Carolina is alert and sharp eyed while Tucker is still distracted by his dumbass teammate.

“Pirates are already there. The other Freelancers are inside the temple, holding them off, but unless we have a plan of attack, they’ll pick us off as soon as we show our faces and go back to breaking in.” He manages to say it normally, calmly, like it’s not making the ghosts of long-dead nightmares sit up and scream at the back of his head. The team is in danger, he’s not there, he’s not fast enough, he’s not good enough—

“Epsilon,” Dr. Grey’s voice, high and worried and steady anyways, breaks through his spiraling panic. “How many pirates are there?”

He can’t get an exact number, so he just says “More than twelve, less than thirty.”

time to go back to my leaky canoe ship. 

Kimball remembers, in a vague sense, a time before she had scars. She knows, logically, it must have existed, that she didn’t come out of the womb with lines on her skin.

She’s not ashamed of her scars. They’re part and proof of being alive. She isn’t ashamed of her lovers’ scars, either, although sometimes she’s afraid of them—afraid of if whatever scarred York’s eye was a bit deeper. If whatever cut into Carolina’s side had been a few inches over.

God, this ask reminded me of how much I wish I could make it to the Common Ground Country Fair this year. anyway. 

1. York is a carnie brat. he grew up on the midway, selling funnel cake and rigging games. and when he’s fired from working private security after losing an eye, he finds himself right back there again.

2. Carolina has also been fired, from her dad’s company that she poured her heart and soul into, and intends to spend her time feverishly job hunting. the reds and blues drag her out to the fair after three days of this. 

3. carolina only goes for the food. this is her story and she’s sticking to it. York is serving apple cider and when he sees her he accidentally spills it all over himself. 

4. he walks up behind her at a game she’s been trying to beat and beats it immediately and then shows her how it’s rigged

5. they don’t kiss on top of the ferris wheel because york knows exactly how much of a shithead his coworker running the ferris wheel is and doesn’t feel like getting mocked/stuck up there. they kiss in the middle of the hay bale maze where no one can see them. 

6. delta is a goat. 

TAH FUCKING DAH. TAKING PROMPTS ACTUALLY WORKED, WHO COULD HAVE GUESSED?