#ken writes

“Fuck, Lando, please,” Oscar keens, hands fisted in the sheets so hard that his knuckles are turning white. He fucks himself down on Lando’s fingers, rolling his hips to make the digits brush against the lovely little spot that makes him see stars.

“God, you’re so easy for it, huh?” Lando laughs, a wonderment weaving through his words that Oscar does not have the mental capacity to unravel right now.

“Easy for you,” Oscar replies, heady and breathless. He knows he’s playing into Lando’s possessive streak, but he’ll do anything if it means finally getting something bigger than Lando’s three fingers in him.

“Fuck, okay.” 

Oscar squeezes his eyes shut, whining when Lando pulls his fingers out. There, in the darkness behind his eyelids, his other senses are heightened. He can feel every movement Lando makes on the bed as if they share a body, and the smell of sex is heavy in his nostrils.

Maybe that’s why he jumps when a low buzzing sound breaks through the silence.

“‘M just checking it’s charged first. We’ll go slow, okay?” Lando assures, running the back of his hand over the skin behind Oscar’s knee. 

Oscar cracks his eyes open and nearly comes at the sight in front of him.

Lando is on his knees between Oscar’s parted thighs, naked save for a pair of skin tight black boxers. His hair is mussed from where Oscar’s hands had been gripping it while Lando blew him, and there’s a pink flush high on his cheeks, muted from his tan but so telling to the state he’s in. He’s hard, the long line of his cock visible through his boxers. There’s a damp patch at the tip, and Oscar fights the urge to sit up and mouth at him through the fabric.

But the thing that makes Oscar shiver with anticipation is the object in Lando's hand. It’s the toy he bought while drunk and lonely, waiting for Lando to come back from galivanting across Greece with Fewtrell. It's smooth with gentle curves, longer than his own cock, but thinner. More precise, he supposes.

Lando had giggled when he first saw it, not because he was judging Oscar for the purchase, but because the vibrator is jarringly hot pink. Oscar had just blushed and told Lando that it was the only one left in stock.

Oscar watches raptly as Lando uncaps the lube and pours it over the tip of the toy. Some of it drips off, landing right on Oscar’s leaking cock. It’s cold, but the shock it sends through him is intoxicating.

Hmm. File that one away for later.

“Alright, ready?” Lando asks, shifting closer to Oscar and lifting one of Oscar’s legs over his shoulder.

Oscar is so exposed like this, splayed open for Lando to see the most intimate parts of him. Oscar kind of never wants to be clothed again if it means Lando will always look at him like this, slack-jawed and wide-eyed, like he’s something holy. Made to be worshipped.

“Yeah,” Oscar breathes.

The first press of the toy against his hole isn’t much different to Lando fucking into him. It’s not as warm, but it’s blunt, a dull pressure that only leaves Oscar wanting more.

“I’m good, you can-” Oscar’s words break into a moan when Lando pushes the vibrator in. It’s a better stretch than Lando’s fingers- not as good as his cock, but enough to make him grin through it.

Lando sets a steady, slow rhythm, watching Oscar’s face intently. Oscar knows he must look a mess right now, flushed red from the tips of his ears to the tip of his cock. He’s unbearably hard, brought right to the edge by Lando’s mouth earlier before being fingered open for what felt like eons. 

The tip of the toy is curved, and within a minute, Lando has figured out the exact speed and depth he needs to push into Oscar to hit his prostate with every stroke. Soon enough, Oscar is panting, rutting his hips to get- he doesn’t even know. Closer? Maybe. 

More. He needs more.

“Lando, please, turn it on,” he all but begs, one of his hands leaving the sheets to grip Lando’s bicep.

Lando is nothing if not merciful. 

Even though he knows it’s coming, the first hum of vibration jolts through him like electricity. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt; sharp and all-consuming, both too much and not enough. 

His body can’t decide if it wants to pull away or push into it, so it does both. His hips jerk up off of the mattress, and the leg propped over Lando’s shoulder tightens, pulling him in closer. The toy pushes in deeper, and the vibration brushes his prostate.

Oscar might scream- he’s too far gone to recognize the sounds he’s making. He’s babbling, rushed together syllables that create a steady stream of yesmorepleasefuck.

“God, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this,” Lando praises, turning his head to the side to nip at the inside of Oscar’s thigh.

He feels hot and cold, shivering and sweaty. Feverish. Lando turns the vibration up, and the sensation teeters right on the line of perfect and too much.

Oscar can’t feel his limbs. Lando is pressing the vibrator into him, keeping it there longer with each stroke until he’s barely pulling out. Oscar grinds his hips down, and Lando gets the hint. He begins moving the toy around in little circles, near constant brushes of vibration against Oscar’s prostate that has him curling his toes and clenching his jaw.

It’s so overwhelming, this unrelenting stimulation, that he doesn’t realize he’s going to come until it’s happening.

There’s fire running through his veins, something bright and burning that whites out his vision as he bears down on the toy. His cock spurts against his stomach, and Oscar is distantly aware of come landing on his collarbone.

He's coming, untouched. It’s the most intense thing he’s ever felt.

“Fuck, Oscar, oh my god.” Lando’s voice is coming back to him in waves, hot pulses as he comes down from his high. 

The sensation returns to his limbs slowly, a tingle that starts in his fingers and toes and runs through his muscles until he’s shaking with it. He opens his eyes just in time to watch Lando come, groaning as he spills over Oscar’s spent cock. 

Oscar’s not sure when Lando slipped the toy out of him, but he’s glad that he did it soon enough to not overstimulate him. There’s only so much Oscar can take in one night, and this might fill that quota for a few days.

Lando gently drops Oscar’s leg back to the bed before flopping down next to him. When his body stops bouncing on the plush mattress, he turns his head and smiles wide at Oscar.

“Good?”

He was, technically, the ego who knew the most about the ship - sure, he was only on board briefly, and really hadn’t intended to be there, but Dark reluctantly agreed that if anyone was going to greet newly minted egos, it should be someone, technically, from the same ‘story’ as them.

It was an impressive ship, to be sure. When the Actor had started his whole ‘space adventure,’ every ego sensitive to the mindscape felt it stretch to accommodate the city-sized vessel. But no one had exited, not yet, despite the indication that there should be thousands on board. And Wilford was interested in why - surely, the ship’s ever curious Captain would have ventured out?

It took a while to find a proper entrance. Even then, it was a couple hundred feet off the ground and without the scaffolding usually present when a spaceship was docked. Of course, that wasn’t a problem for Wilford, who simply floated up to the docking bay door (he couldn’t do it all the time, only when it was funny, or convenient) and knocked. 

Nobody answered for a long time, which Wilford thought was rude. He tapped his foot in the air impatiently, then he knocked again, slightly louder. Almost instantly, as if someone had been waiting to hear the noise again, he heard the clanks and whirrs of machines starting up, and the grinding of metal as the docking bay doors slid open. 

He allowed them to open enough to allow entry before stepping aboard, already putting on a bright smile despite seeing no one to greet him. “Hello there~” he drawled to the empty room, “my name is Wilford Warfstache, and I–” The whirr of an electric weapon powering up suddenly cut him off, and he felt a spot of heat by his right cheek. 

“Don’t move,” his welcoming party warned. Not wanting to turn and stare into what was likely a laser weapon of some sort, Warfstache simply glanced to the side. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted bright blue hair and some kind of fur lining.

“Well,” Wilford said, recovering quickly, “not the first time a beautiful stranger greeted me with a gun.”

“Who are you?” they hissed, ignoring his flattery entirely. They began to move to face him, their futuristic gun still pointed at his head. “Where are we, and why doesn’t any of this make sense?”

“I’m afraid those are loaded questions,” Wilford grinned. His new friend was almost completely facing him, and he craned his neck to see around their fluffy hood. “But I already answered the first one. So I’ll turn it around. You are…?”

The radio was playing swing, and she was dancing. It was one of those nights where they were all enjoying each others’ company, the four of them. The realization hit him when he saw her face. It wasn’t a romantic slow dance or any such thing; she wasn’t even dancing with him, her hand was linked with Mark’s at the moment, but he looked up at her face, flushed from the dancing and the drinking and the company and he knew right then and there. She was –

“Beautiful,” Wilford finished aloud, and pink the same color as his mustache and hair flooded his face for a moment. He had not meant to say that. This time. He had seen her face and just… reacted. Now, she simply looked at him from the depths of her hood, looking both confused and guarded. God, she looked like Celine. And that was not a thought he wanted to dwell on for too long, so he switched gears and snapped his fingers. “Ah! You’re a Pam ego.”

“I’m a what?” The gun lowered a tad bit. 

“Pam ego,” Wilford repeated slowly. He clapped his hands together, now completely disregarding the woman’s instruction not to move. “Oh, Pamick Attack will finally have a friend! Perhaps there will be a mindscape for you now that there are two of you, but you never know.”

“What are you talking about?” The woman said, her voice raising a pitch. Wilford is reminded of Abe for a moment. “Why do you look like our engineer? Where is the Captain? Where are the rest of the crew and the colonists? What the f*ck?!”

“I heard that they’re looking for the 7th recruit,” your roommate, Kim Doyoung, nonchalantly blurted out as he continued cleaning the sharp knives in his collection, carefully looking for any prints and meticulously wiping it with the cloth. You ran to the living room to where he was comfortably sitting and knelt down beside him.

“Holy shit are you talking about the The Gunpoint?” You couldn’t hide the excitement in your voice as you shook Doyoung’s arms, obviously too impatient to wait for an answer. In result, Doyoung accidentally cut his finger, in which resulted to him growling in pain, and you carefully unlatched your grip.

“Oops.”

With a glare, he drop the knife and went to the bathroom to get the kit. You followed him around, obviously too preoccupied to care about the small cut. “Come on, what about the recruitment?”

“Can you not? I worked so hard not to get another scar on my hand,” he immediately clean the cut and you rolled your eyes.

“Stop overreacting. You won’t die from that tiny scratch,” you sat beside him on the couch and took the golden knife and cloth to help him clean it. “But seriously what do you mean about The Gunpoint looking for the 7th recruit? I thought the examinations were over?”

“Oh, the examinations that you failed last month?” He teased with a smug look on his face and you fought the urge to smash his face in. It was true that you tried out for the examinations last month but unfortunately, you failed to succeed the last task and your dream of becoming an agent of the best secret agent group out there now looked like something you won’t ever achieve.

Their examinations in choosing seven new recruits were pretty intense for someone who just started from an unknown group like you. You knew it was such a big jump to apply at The Gunpoint when you barely started in a small group in your town but dreaming big won’t cost you anything. You knew you had to try and live the life you’ve been dreaming of since you were a child.

The Gunpoint is not your usual group that simply spies or threaten people whom their clients wants to scare. They only work for the biggest international organizations and even the government, and will do anything even if it involves killing someone involved in a serious crime.

Even though they do jobs that are out of this world, they only limit themselves into something that involves serious crimes and threats to the government or huge companies. They don’t do small favours for petty threats to innocent people.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened or should I punch you in the face?”

“Geez. You’re being so violent nowadays,” Doyoung faked a shudder and snatched his collection from you. “Not sure about the entire details tho but all I know is that the 7th recruit was a spy from the rival group. The boss was so furious when the 5th recruit found out and reported it to him but hey, at least he didn’t kill him.”

“Where’s the 7th recruit then?”

“I believe he’s in the interrogation room,” you nodded. Lucky bastard.

“And the head informed me that the 5 other applicants who didn’t succeed last time are given the chance to take the vacant spot. And as for you, you better prepare yourself for the new tests that you’re going to face again,” he flicked your forehead and stood up to go to his room.

You saw a knife that fell from his box earlier and a wild idea came to your mind. “Hey, Doyoung!” You called, throwing the knife to his direction, originally aiming for his head.

As expected, he was quick to dodge it and the sharp object hit the cemented wall and fell to the ground.

“Wow, you’re still fast! This is why you’re my role model!” You slowly clapped and he just rolled his eyes and left, completely not bothered by the fact that you just threw a knife to him.

Doyoung was the 3rd recruit from the previous batch and you practically looked up to him even though you both started at the same time in the same small group from your hometown. He managed to snaked his way to The Gunpoint a year ago and you were seriously so eager to enter it now that you’re given the chance to take it.

Collecting the small knife on the floor, a burning desire to get that 7th spot started to build inside you.

I’m gonna be the 7th recruit. I just know it.

~

The letter that you received earlier that day had not much written in it but you knew exactly what it meant.

To the 7th recruit,

Find Mr. Ten Chittaphon- code blue rose.

-TGP

That was pretty much it but it felt so fucking intense for a recruitment examination. You mentally, and physically prepared yourself for the examination. Looking at the black ink printed on the white paper, you couldn’t help but get excited how TGP (The Gunpoint) already called you the 7th recruit in their letter. It motivated you to do your job correctly, even though it involved almost killing this unknown man named Ten Chittaphon.

You were proud to say that you memorized every single Codes by TGP and according to the letter, they wanted you to track Ten and do whatever you want to get the details from this man and why he’s sabotaging the government even if you have to almost kill this man.

If it was Code Red Rose then you’re up to totally kill him.

After some intensive research, you found out that Ten Chittaphon usually hangs out in this high-end night club near the border, a place where celebrities and politicians hang out to stay clear from public’s eyes. It was known for being too exclusive and strict. You even asked Doyoung, or begged to be exact, to make you a fake ID so you could perfectly blend in. Apparently, it’s difficult for normal people to enter the said club so you had to create a new identity that would link you to a fictitious powerful backer.

Letting out a huge huff and fixing your hair to the side so that your bare shoulders would be perfectly displayed, you strutted your way inside, walking past the guys gawking at your figure like hungry preys. You were simply wearing your only short, tight black dress that perfectly hugged your curves matched with some killer heels to perfect the looks.

You weren’t in for some new fashion trends or anything like that but you certainly didn’t look like a hobo compared to these celebrities going in and out the club sporting nothing but branded clothes.

The ear-splitting music of a foreign song greeted you as the blinding neon lights illuminated the dark dance floor. You could practically see everyone either dancing their drunk ass out or dirty dancing along with the beat, artificial smoke fogging everyone’s view.

It was what made the club exciting but you reminded yourself that you were there to look for a man, and of course, win the 7th spot in TGP. You headed to the counter and ordered yourself some liquor, eyes starting to scan the crowd to find Ten Chittaphon.

Numerous guys approached you to ask for your name or buy you drink, and as much as you want to enjoy, you’re strictly here to focus on your assignment and move on before anyone else could take your spot. After a good 20 minutes of scanning through the foggy and dark room, you froze on your seat when you saw the familiar face of the man you ought to hunt sitting on the couch situated in the reserved booth.

It was as if he made himself available for you.

The strong gaze and pointed nose with his long, disheveled hair perfectly matched the photo given to you by TGP through Doyoung. You knew it was him and wasting your time was the last thing on your list.

Based on the information that you got from people about him, the only way to get on his good side is to offer him something.

You approached him with a curious look, eyeing his whole appearance, which unmistakably screamed wealth, charisma, and power, and thought about how you’re gonna lure him in. Thankfully, he was alone as he sitted comfortably on the leather couch and had a glass of liquor in his right hand to accompany him. His eyes moved to look at you, his body still not moving.

“You look lonely,” you commented, slowly and carefully sitting beside him, making sure to give him a glimpse of what was hidden behind your lacy bra.

“I was waiting for you to come to me,” he replied with a smug look on his face. You were almost surprised that he went along with your words.

He surely knew how to play the game and you readied yourself to level up. With a soft smile, you leaned forward and brushed your lips softly against his ear. “I hope I’m not too late.”

“You’re just in time for me, love,” he moved his head suddenly and had your lips almost touching his instead. He glanced at the dance floor behind you and smiled, the kind that anyone would fall for. “Wanna dance?”

“I would love to,” he stood up and grabbed your hand as you both weaved your way to the crowded dance floor. You were ecstatic at how easy it was for you to have him in your hands already and you had to give more to completely have him alone.

The EDM song came to an end when you were both in the middle and was replaced by a sensual one.

Right.

He immediately had both his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as the people around you did the same to their partners to perfectly feel the lyrics and beat of the music. He was like preventing other people from touching you and wanted you only for himself as he wrapped both arms around your waist.

You swayed your hips back and forth, making sure to brush it against his clothed member. You don’t know how you managed to act this bold but it’s probably the alcohol doing things for you. He seemed to enjoy it because he pulled you closer to him, his hands digging to your waist through your thin dress.

You turned around, your bare back against his chest, your arms stretching to wrapped it around his neck. You could feel his hot breath fanning against the crook of your neck, his lips hovering just a millimeter away from your skin. You both stayed like that, feeling the sensual beat as your mind raced to the thoughts of doing your task as soon as possible without being too obvious.

“What’s your name, darling?” He whispered, his lips slowly making its way to the back of your ear.

“Call me Rina,” you replied and bit back a laugh as a random assed name escaped from your mouth. You haven’t thought about your alias yet so maybe you’ll get an official one after passing the final examinations.

“Hmm…Rina. I like that name,” you turned around to face him again, your eyes level with his, arms still wrapped around his neck. “I’m Ten, but I’m sure you already know it.”

Oh, how I wish I could attack him right now and get done with my task, you thought.

“Everyone knows you here,” you commented, growing impatient about the whole thing. You just want to get things done as soon as possible, get the 7th spot, go home, and get a long ass sleep. You didn’t care much about how fucking hot and handsome he looked with his white long sleeve shirt and black pants, because passing the examination was your current priority.

But damn, this look should be illegal, you thought as you placed both your palms on his chest, your eyes hinting something that he surprisingly understood.

“Wanna go somewhere…private?”

Yes, finally!

“Got a place on your mind?”

“I think I do,” he replied.

The way to the place where he said would send you to paradise was too steamy to say the least. All you could remember was him lifting you up from your seat effortlessly like you weigh nothing and placed you in his lap in which you happily repositioned yourself so you were straddling him.

He was the one who initiated the kiss as he grabbed your head and captured your lips with his. The kiss was hot and so demanding you couldn’t even have the chance to catch your breath. You spent the entire ride in that position, obviously not caring about Ten’s driver looking at you both through the rear view mirror.

When you got inside Ten’s presidential suite, you wasted no time and unbuttoned his shirt as he carried you to his bedroom, your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips were still tasting yours with his hands roaming your bottom, making you almost forget what your true intentions were.

You had one of your hands tugging his soft, silky black hair to pull him even closer to you and taste the faint sweet minty flavor of his lips while the other struggled to open the remaining buttons.

He dropped you on his bed, his hooded eyes raking through your body like a hungry wolf. You took all your damn time watching him unbuttoning the last one and taking it off, exposing his milky skin and toned stomach. He crawled on top of you and rested both elbows on either side of your head, his lips immediately attacking your neck. Your hands went to his back, nails slowly digging through his skin as you desperately held onto him.

Focus, (Y/N). Focus!

You pulled away, both of you trying to catch your breath.

“God, you’re making me lose my control,” he whispered and showered your neck and collarbone with sloppy kisses.

“Would you like to…try something new?” You asked in between breaths, hands now tugging his hair. He was confused with your question, based on his looks, and you smiled.

“Do you have a necktie or something similar?” You continued. He chuckled as he just understood what you want to do with the necktie.

Well, the quickest and easiest plan you could think of right now is to seduce the shit out of Ten, tie both his hands together on the headboard and start your task. It’s basically very simple but contrary to your beliefs, he seemed to be a very easy man.

He smiled before getting up to open the drawer beside the king size bed and pulled out a dark green tie.

“I’m guessing you knew what I want to do,” you started as you took the necktie from him, a small yet mischievous smile present on your face. “Would you like me to proceed?”

He was studying your moves as he crawled back to the bed, his hands reaching for your thighs. “I haven’t done this before but I’m willing to try it with you,” he smirked, “Fuck, you’re making me do things I normally don’t like.”

You quietly pushed him so he was now lying on the bed, tying both his hands to the headboard. You made it extra hard to untie for obvious reasons, but made sure it isn’t too suspicious.

You ran your fingers through his chest down to his stomach, stopping right above the band of his pants. You then stood up and turned your back on him, leaving him cursing at the sudden absence of your touch. Slowly reaching for the strap of your heels made you look so dramatic and erotic but in reality, you were just trying to get the small knife from Doyoung’s collection that you hid in the strap wrapped around your thigh.

This is too easy, you smiled to yourself. You just honestly didn’t expect it to be this easy since you thought Ten would be smart enough to suspect your moves.

When you reached for your knife, you almost panicked when you felt nothing in your strap, your fingers carefully scanning your inner thigh just to make sure. Your eyes then slowly moved to scan the white tiled floor, hoping to find the small knife to get things done. You still had your back on him, in which you could feel his intense gaze on you, but you refused to turn around until you find the very weapon you’ll use.

You remembered feeling it under your dress when Ten’s fingers dug into your waist earlier, slowly making it way south but stopped right before he could slip his long, strangely soft hands under your dress. You remembered feeling the cold, sharp surface of the weapon as you swung your hips back and forth along his about an hour ago so you were confused as to where it might be.

You felt Ten getting impatient behind you as you could felt him moving his body against the sheet, and you bent down to take off your heels, taking all your damn time to scan the whole area without looking suspicious.

What the fuck, (Y/N)? Do you really have to be this clumsy?!

With your bare feet touching the cold ground, your fingers slowly reached for the zipper of your dress, eyes still scanning the floor. But right before you could completely take off your dress, you felt a cold and sharp object poking the skin of your throat in which a small move might cut you open.

The warm hands touched your shoulders for a few seconds, as if to tell you they are there, before quickly pulling you to their body knocking the air off your lungs. Your eyes widen at the sudden realize that the knife threatening to slit your throat was the one you were looking for- which also happened to be one of Doyoung’s favourite item.

He wrapped his left arm around you, with the other one holding the knife still threatening your throat.

“Game over, baby girl,” he whispered, hot breath fanning against your neck for the last time before he flipped you over so you’re on the bed and put on a cuff around your wrists behind you at an amazing speed.

You were too shock to say anything and all you did was roll your body so you were now facing him, and stared whoever the fuck he really was as he repositioned himself above you.

With the knife still against your skin he said, “You were too impatient that you made yourself so predictable,” he shook his head and ruffled his hair, making him look like he’s bored to death. “And you fucking suck at acting, you should consider getting a coach before you come to this field of work.”

Shit, so he knew about my plan?

The smirk on his face made you want to smash his face in with a brick but since you’re in such a painful position, wrists behind you with Ten’s weight stopping you from moving, all you could do is protest with your dirty language.

“Get your fucking body off me!”

“Tsk. You’ve got a nasty mouth for a beautiful face.”

“Fuck off!”

He just laughed at your weak attempt of wriggling your way out and you honestly thought it’s gonna be your last night. “And obviously, you miserably failed the final exam. That was probably the shittiest plan I’ve ever encounter in my whole life.” He stood up from the bed and walked to stand before you, hair disheveled and the shirt unbuttoned.

“Wait what?” You looked at him and sat up with the most baffled look ever. “Examination? Are you….are you talking about-”

“The 43rd Annual Recruitment of TGP, yes, and you miserably failed it.”

You felt absolutely humiliated that your cover was blown off and most importantly because that was supposed to be the most crucial part of being an agent.

Also, you failed the examination for the second fucking time.

“And who the fuck are you?” You asked through gritted teeth.

He studied the small knife for a few seconds before glancing at you with a smug look.

“I’m Ten, the 1st recruit.”

Oh shit.

Chapter 5: I Ya Mogu Byt' Geroyem

(And I Can Be A Hero)

Days after the fight with Sven, I hear my name being whispered amongst people in the city. Every person I pass by ends up giving me a warm smile, wide eyes, looks of utter amazement. I can feel them all looking at me, I hear their voices inside my head, and it does not take long for me to feel out of place yet again. This recognition should not go to me. It should go to Draco, who killed Sven. My sixteen hour fight means nothing in comparison to his feat, and to keep hearing these BLADEs say my name...well, I cannot help but feel on edge.

Eventually it gets to me, and I force myself to leave the city without taking any missions. It might do me good to get some fresh air. Being free of my duties, even for a moment, lifts some stress off of me. I enter my Skell and shift it into vehicular mode, deciding that a drive could help me clear my head. But as I allow my conscience to pick the route, my thoughts consume me.

You failed your team. You failed Draco. You are worthless.

My hands shake a bit, and the sensitive controls of my Lailah Queen pick up on it. The Skell swings back and forth, and I have to steady my grip to get it to stay straight. After a few deep breaths, I keep on driving forward, staying in control of the Skell.

...Control.

Is that what I need? To control my emotions, to stop dragging myself down? The word rings inside my head, a voice that never dies. I take another deep breath. I continue on my way to an unknown destination.

After some time, I find myself in Oblivia. Why did I bring myself here? This place only brings back the memories of the fight with the forfexes, the vigent I supposedly talked to. I still do not understand what happened, but either way, the memory makes me cringe. It is not normal to be able to talk to indigens. Have I always been able to do that? What on Mira gave me this ability?!

Finally giving up, I park my Skell near a cliff, closing my eyes. Though the air around me is cool, sweat rolls down my forehead. I lean back in my seat, glancing outside. The walls around me seem to be closing in on me with every negative thought that fills my brain, so quickly, I hoist myself up and out of the Skell, stepping onto the barren ground with a tiny sigh.

At least the breeze feels good.

I start to walk forward, looking around at the vast wasteland. There is something beautiful I find in the silence, but there is nothing nice to find in the heat. Seriously, why did I come here? I will sweat to death in this gear if I stay out here any longer! Pulling my right sleeve off of my skin, I sigh. Yeah, I should probably go. This was a bad idea, coming here. I only feel more distraught about everything. Maybe the missions will help me, after all.

I turn to head back to my Skell, and as I take a step to the right, something cracks underneath my foot. Startled, I jump up, looking down to see what I had done. The thing next to my foot is...a comm device. I check to make sure I did not drop my own, and noticing it still in my pocket, I raise an eyebrow. Did someone pass by and accidentally drop it? I decide to pick it up, wiping some dirt off of the screen. With the press of a button, the screen lights up. It seems in working order, besides the flicker every now and then. I blame myself for that.

I find the name of the BLADE in the top corner of the screen. Orion. What a beautiful name...NO, STOP. I flash a look upwards towards my Skell, wondering if I should bring it back to the city. But then, something catches my eye, a bright contrast to the colors of the wasteland. As I step towards it, I understand just what I am looking at. I can never mistake the color of mim blood…

I bend down, reaching one of my ungloved fingers to touch it. Great idea Pongo, touch the disgusting blood, nothing bad will happen! But as my fingers touch down, I realize that the blood is still fresh. Whoever this blood belongs to, they cannot be far. I look into my other hand, down into the comm device. Orion. Orion.

They might be in trouble. No, they are in trouble.

Standing back up, I place the comm device in the opposite pocket to my own, observing the land around me for any trace of their whereabouts. There seems to be more blood, but not much, leading outwards into the plains. Clenching my fist, I start to follow the trail on foot. I could always take my Skell, but I fear that my scanners will be unable to pick up on such a faint trail. The naked eye is a powerful tool, and I intend to trust it.

And it is with my naked eye that I spot something. No, someone. Someone is standing out in the distance, looking around. It is impossible to miss this figure; clad in dark clothes, he is a great contrast against the light sandy brown of Oblivia. I stand perfectly still, wondering if it is worth it to try and talk to him. Perhaps he knows something about Orion, what happened to them. Maybe he is Orion.

He takes another step forward before his head spins towards me. Eyes wide, I await something. I await anything to happen. But there is only silence between us, and the growing feeling of dread. I will become an embarrassment again if I talk to him, and yet I feel I have to try.

I give him a weak wave, my heart sinking down to my stomach. What am I thinking?! This guy probably thinks I am some weirdo - or even worse, a stalker. Gods, what do I do what do I do what do I do

“Hey.”

...He spoke. The guy spoke to me. Oh my gods. He is walking towards me and I am just standing here like an idiot and I -

“Have you seen anyone else around here?”

I swallow hard. I have to respond. “N-No...just you and me…”

He stops in front of me, and I am finally able to grasp just how tall this handsome stranger is. I have to crane my neck upwards just to be able to look into his gaze. His hair is long and spiked, covering his right eye but not his left. It shines a dark blue in the Oblivian sun, complementing the dark blues in his outfit. He dons a veyes to cover his mouth, for some reason. I never understood the appeal of those. However, the veyes designed for the female gender are quite nice.

“Damn it,” The man curses, quickly glancing to each side of him. “Damn it.”

The silence returns for a while. I bite my lip, anxious to say something. This guy obviously needs help looking for someone, and yet I have my own little mission to try and find this Orion -

...wait a minute.

“By any chance...the person you are looking for...is their name ‘Orion’?” I ask quietly.

The man blinks once. “Yeah.”

Sheepishly, I take out the comm device I found and offer it out for him to see. As he takes it within his gloved hand, I explain, “I just found this...and I was following a trail of blood...until I saw you, that is. Not that you distracted me or anything, because I was doing pretty good I think, but even if you did distract me, which, how can one not be distracted by such a handsome face -”

I stop myself. Must I always humiliate myself in this way?! Chuckling nervously, I watch as the man turns away to face the horizon. I do not need to see his mouth to understand that he seems concerned. He is doing his best to hide it, I can tell by the way he moves as I try to face him, but his stiff shoulders and constant repositioning are clear indicators. Whoever Orion is, they clearly mean something to this man.

And so I summon up as much courage as I can, and ask:

“D-Do you want me to help you find them? Orion, I mean.”

“No.” His response is sharp. “I can find her on my own.”

Alright, so Orion is a she. Good to know. I open my mouth to speak, but somehow he has slipped out of my field of vision. Spinning around, I notice that he is walking off towards the plains behind me - in the totally wrong direction of the blood trail. What does he think he is doing? I shake my head, more determined than ever to help him. I jog up to his side, calling out to him. “If you really want to find her then you are going the wrong way!”

He stops suddenly, and I almost crash into his back. As he turns to face me, his arms cross over his chest, and he gives me a dark scowl.

“Which way.”

I point feebly in the right direction. “Well, that way, but -”

And he walks past me again. Wow, rude. Groaning, I jog back up to him again and position myself in front of him so that he has to stop. That dark scowl of his is really intimidating, but I cannot let it faze me. I want to help him, and I will help him no matter what.

“Look, I know you really want to get to her,” I say slowly, “And trust me, I understand the feeling. But you cannot scour the entire continent and hope that you get to her in time.”

“Watch me.” He snarls, moving to shove me aside. But I push his arm away before he can grab my shoulder, determined to help.

“Please, just listen for a moment, I beg you!” I plead, “I am following a trail of blood at the moment and it might lead us to her! But if you go off on your own and ignore all the clues, then you will never be able to find her! Please, at least can we work together on this? Two or more heads always triumphs over one!”

I patiently wait for an answer, half expecting him to shove me aside again. But as his shoulders release some tension, he nods. “Fine.”

I give him a tired smile. “Alright then! Follow me, Mister - ah, I never got your name…”

As I lead the way back in the direction of the blood trail, he answers, “I go by many names. But you can call me Shun.”

“And I am GoPon - I MEAN - Pongo.”

I really thought I could nail that introduction, but nope, social interaction is a jerk. But now, I at least know his name.

And so we walk together in silence as I lead the way, my head tilted downwards. There is more blood than I thought initially, and I cannot help but fear for Orion. Losing this much blood is never a good sign. Almost without thinking, my right hand presses down against my left arm. At this point I know when the ticks come; it is no surprise that they have become more frequent, given the uncertainty of the situation. I only hope that they do not limit my abilities in the near future, as they have done so often in the past.

The silence feels strange. I long to ask Shun something, anything. Maybe I could ask about his relationship with Orion? It is clear that he cares for her deeply, but is this in a romantic sense? Or are they siblings?

“Pongo.”

I quickly stop in my tracks to turn around. Shun is looking off towards a large structure in the distance, barely hidden by one of the many towering peaks that scatter the landscape. Its gray metallic coating is easily identifiable as a Ganglion creation, and though I have not looked to see where the rest of the trail leads, I can only assume that this would be the likely location of Orion.

And, thankfully, I have been here before. Well, not thankfully, why would I be thankful for being in a Ganglion base? No no, I meant it as in I know the layout. Yes, that sounds a thousand times better.

“The Milligan supply base,” I confirm. “Not a terribly large Ganglion base, but it has its fair share of enemies.”

“She’s in there. I know she is.”

Shun starts to walk towards it, yet again attempting to leave me behind. At this point I wonder if he hates me, and that is why he keeps trying to leave. But I will not let him. I jog to keep pace with him as we head around the peak and towards the entrance to the base, making sure to keep a safe distance. It seems rather quiet outside, but I am not fooled. There are zigs up ahead. They have really really good sight, but I pray that we are too far down to be noticed. And if we are? Well, we are screwed.

“So, ah, what now?” I ask Shun as we stand outside the entrance. Now that I think about it, it seems too quiet here. Even the zigs whir about, silently watching, waiting. Where are the other Ganglion? Are they on a holiday or something? No, they have to be somewhere.

“We go in, and we blast those sons of bitches.” Shun says blatantly.

My eyes widen. “Um, okay, that is...a plan. But I do not think that is the best plan.”

“Then what are you going to suggest?”

I open my mouth, but at first I say nothing. He has a fair point. What exactly would my plan entail? Stealth, speed, charm? All three? Maybe I could use Ghost Factory to - wait, no, that is only a decoy. If I wanted to disable complete enemy detection I would need Shadowrunner, the aura associated with the dual swords...they sound really cool; maybe one day I can learn how to use them. For now, my primary melee weapon is the photon saber, and that is for support more so than offense.

“I think we should try and sneak our way inside,” I start, “Since there are two of us it would be easier to try and -”

...Shun is gone.

How in the blazes is he able to escape so quickly?! He must be a ninja or something!

But after I glance around, I spot him heading inside, taking no measure whatsoever to be stealthy. He must be pretty confident and strong if he thinks he can barge in like this - or, he is an idiot. I settle with the former, quickly moving to follow him inside.

Strangely enough, everything is as quiet on the inside as it was outside. I spy a few Marnucks patrolling the area, but they make terrible guards, honestly. One time I stood right in front of a Marnuck and he did not see me. I wonder what happened to him. He seemed like a pretty nice Marnuck - well, as nice as Marnuck can get.

Shun makes it to one of the towers, pressing his back against the wall and peeking over at the two Marnucks guarding the entrance. I have hidden myself behind a few large crates nearby, deciding, if he keeps this behavior up, that I will act as a lookout for him. He has made it this far without attracting attention, and I would feel really guilty if someone stabbed him in the back just as he found Orion. As I watch him sneak past the guards and slip inside, I heave a sigh of relief, but I do not let my guard down. Any noise he makes will surely get picked up. And if Orion is in one of these towers, her disappearance will surely attract attention. We will have to make a quick escape if this is the case.

Hmm. I know I made this observation already, but it is too quiet here. Not even the breeze dares to make a sound. The silence only makes me feel worse. I start to regret not following Shun inside. Maybe some Ganglion were inside waiting for him and he was unable to handle himself against them. But would I not have heard it? There would have been a struggle, most likely. No, Shun is fine. Shun will be okay. I repeat this in my head in an effort to calm down.

But my body decides to betray my conscience. I peek over the first crate and make my way over to the tower. The Marnucks are still looking around warily, as if they can sense my presence. But I slide behind them with relative ease and head into the tower. Conveniently, there is no door. I wonder who decided that was a good idea. My hand floats to my saber, tucked into the loop of my belt. I have a feeling I will need it.

Inside, the room is wider than I expect. There are crates and strange containers scattered about, and a ramp to the right side of the room connects the ground floor to the next level. I glance around once before my eyes land on Shun, kneeling next to a tiny, bruised form. Beneath her blue and purple locks, her cheeks are red and damp from crying. Her clothes are torn and there are bruises and scrapes running up her legs and arms, but the most significant wound is a deep gash in her lower abdomen. Her blood stains her pink top a delicate shade of blue. It is a miracle she has not bled to death.

Neither of them have noticed my presence. Shun has his saber drawn, waving the blade over her wound as he mumbles the name of the healing art: Astral Heal. I cannot tell if it has an immediate effect, but Shun seems much more relieved after using it.

“You idiot,” He scoffs quietly, “Why did you go out alone?”

“I...I had a gathering mission. And I didn’t want to bother you to come with me…” She whispers, her breath ragged with every sob she makes. “I thought…”

Shun releases his breath. “Let’s just get you home. Don’t want you dying, do we?”

She attempts a futile laugh. Shun scoops his hands under her body, lifting her up bridal style, and as he turns towards me he scowls. “We need to get her to the MMC.”

I nod. “Yeah...I can call my Skell to transport her out of here. That should be the fastest way.”

“Do it.”

I let go of my saber and whip out my comm, dialing a code into it. A while back I was able to install a return program into Eros, allowing it to use its tracking device to hone in on my location and fly to me. As soon as I get the confirmation, Shun steps back, staring at something behind me.

“Damn it, we’ve got company.”

And sure enough, as I turn around, the two Marnuck guards are blocking our exit, guns raised and ready to shoot. That is one thing I know for certain: there is no negotiating with simple guards such as these. We - no, I - will have to fight my way out of this. Shun has Orion to worry about, so now it is my duty to protect them both!

“Stand down, humans,” The first guard growls, his gun aimed directly at my head. “Or death will be imminent.”

I cannot help but smirk. “Everyone says that.”

I would grab my guns, but seeing as I am being held at gunpoint, reaching for any other weapon besides my saber would be suicide. They would shoot me on the spot. So unless I had a distraction -

A distraction. PERFECT.

My jaw drops and I point towards something behind the Marnucks. “Oh my goodness, is that GOETIA?!”

They both spin around wildly, looking for their precious leader. I quickly unholster my guns off of my back and double check to make sure I have TP to spend. 8000. Filled up. I press down on my first buff, allowing the shadows to lick at my feet. The decoy spreads to Orion and Shun, and I yell at them, “GO! UP THE RAMP!”

Shun does not need to be told twice. He bolts up the ramp with Orion safely in his arms, and I am quick to follow. The Marnucks turn back around to face us, but all three of us are on the second floor already, and soon we proceed up to the third, the fourth. The last ramp up brings us outside and onto the roof. The sun shines down on us as I cast a glance behind us, realizing that the roof is a dead end unless we decide to jump. We could handle the fall; the gravity here allows for us to survive even the most dangerous drops. But with Orion in this state, I agree with Shun silently that it is not our best option. Hopefully Eros will be here soon, we just have to wait.

“HUMANS.”

They are upon us. As I face the ramp we came from, the two Marnuck guards have arrived with reinforcements. They quickly surround us, ten against three. No doubt they have called for more support, but for now these odds are...optimal? But with Shun holding Orion, it might be one against ten. What a weight to carry. I do not think I am sweating because of the heat anymore.

Thanks to the decoy, the Marnucks all stare in different directions, trying to pick out which one of us are the real ones. They all have their guns poised and ready to fire, but their uncertainty blinds them. However, this does not come across in the voice of who I presume to be the higher in command. “You will stand down or die.”

“You would not, perhaps, enjoy a third option? Where we just, you know, walk away?” I ask.

Judging by their silence I assume that they do not enjoy this option. Well, it was worth a shot.

“Where’s your Skell.” Shun hisses, looking down at Orion. She is shuddering now, and sweat rolls down her forehead as she closes her eyes. Frantically searching the skies for the familiar red Skell, my breaths become panicked and shallow. Damn it, I am supposed to be protecting them both! And now we are surrounded and we will all die and I will let all of my friends down and my name will go down in history as the one belonging to the complete and utter failure -

Calm down.

My eyes widen in surprise. That does NOT sound like my normal monologuing voice. It sounds foreign and weird, but at the same time...it feels very welcoming. So I listen to it. My breathing grows slow and controlled, and I look towards the sky in the hopes that Eros will appear in the nick of time.

And what do you know? It does!

The flash of red breaks through the sky with a hot pink trail, heading straight for us. The Marnucks have not seen it yet, but as I grin, Shun takes notice. Eros descends loudly, and the Marnucks yell a moment too late. It lands square on top of two guards, crushing them under its feet. Without any orders being issued the remaining Marnucks start to fire at Eros and us, but our decoy is still up, so for the time being I ignore the shots.

“GO!” I order Shun. We both sprint to Eros, whose cockpit has already opened upon sensing my presence. Shun lifts Orion inside, hopping in after her. As I climb inside after them, I turn back to the Marnucks with a sly grin.

“Better luck next time.”

I could swear that my voice sounded different just then, but as the cockpit door closes up, I do not allow myself time to think about it. Instead, I take the controls and lift Eros back up into the air, dodging as many of the shots as I can. The bullets only just puncture the armor Eros wears, hardly enough to damage anything important.

As Eros flies over the sandy terrain, I turn back towards Shun and Orion. He is huddled over her, his hands over her stomach, where the worst of her wounds are. Her eyes are glazed over, unfocused and uncertain. I offer a tiny smile of reassurance.

“We will be home soon. The MMC can fix you up.”

She returns the smile. “T-Thank you…I’m...I’m Orion, by the way!...”

I nod. “Interpongo. With the Ceptors.”

...damn it.