Multishots, twin-shots, volley shots. Whatever you want to call them, they’re super common in fiction, to the extent that some characters never seem to actually shoot one arrow at a time! So here are some insights into how practical (or not) they are in real life…
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Viviana Loredan (78). She was born the daughter of a patrician family in medieval Venice. From an early age, she showed a marked fondness for tales and legends, listening raptly to the stories told by her nurses and learning to read unusually young. Married off early, her union proved largely devoid of affection and heirs (apart from a single daughter), a quiet and hollow arrangement befitting her station. After her Embrace into the Malkavian clan, Viviana’s fascination with myth deepened into obsession—most notably with the legends of Arthur and his court. Now calling herself the Lady of the Canals, she offers ample fodder for mockery among the cynical, yet her visions are quietly sought after by those who hunger for power.
Starring in Und das Herz stirbt ewig
Art by Rekaee
In the Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, there are different bonuses that can be added to regular bows. One of those is the multishot capability, which allows one arrow to be used up from Link's inventory, but multiple to be shot at the same time.
This is especially useful in combat against higher level enemies, such as minibosses or lynels. One downside is that once the arrow is shot, it cannot be recollected (even if it hits a tree or the ground). There are a few types of bows that always have a multishot capability:
Duplex Bow (shoots 2 arrows at once)
Great Falcon Bow (shoots 3 arrows at once)
Forest Dweller's Bow (shoots 3 arrows at once)
Lynel Bows (3-5 arrows at once, depending on the lynel defeated)
There is a fun arrow duplication glitch that makes use of this multishot capability.
If Link goes to a source of fire with a multishot bow equipped, he can light his arrow with the flame and shoot it onto a surface such as a tree or the ground. The one arrow from his inventory gets shot into multiple arrows, and these individual arrows will catch fire as well. Since they are lit, they do not despawn and can be collected if Link is fast enough. Please note this only works for regular arrows (not bomb, ice, fire, shock or ancient).
An easy place to do this is in Kakariko Village on the fire near the Goddess Statue (shoot the arrows onto the tree in front of it), or the cooking pot in Kara Kara Bazaar. Watch the short clip below to see more details!
Here's part one to a multi-shot I'm putting together. I hope you enjoy! <3
I groaned as I entered my 3rd period classroom, my feet dragging as if I had a 50 pound ball and chain attached to both of my ankles. Technically, I could classify the room as a jail cell. It had zero windows, poor air circulation, bland beige walls and was located at the far end of the college campus, isolated from the rest of the classes. It sucked. This was everyone’s least favorite class. Plus, it was next to our indoor pool, making the classroom an uncomfortable cesspool of warm bodies with questionable odors with a hint of chlorine. In other words, it reeked like shit and everyone had swamp ass.
Like most days, I was not feeling it. Especially today. I might as well have been casted in the walking dead with how lifeless I felt. And looked. I had dark circles under my eyes. My hair was a mess. The humidity of the class room was frizzing my hair no matter how much product I would apply. My fit today was super bummy. I got up late leaving me no choice but to sport my gray sweatpants with a bleach stain on my ass cheek that kind of looked like Abe Lincoln and my oversized black tee shirt with a slight rip on the seam of my breast pocket. It wasn’t like me to dress like a hobo, but thanks to professor Heimerdinger and his bullshit assignment, I didn’t have time to dress to impress. The worst part of it all? I forgot to shower.
I was up until three last night trying to tackle it, last second I might add. He was infamous for this. He loved to bombard us with challenging topics, especially at the last second. I didn’t understand a single question on any of the four pages he gave us. Four pages. For a single assignment. It was overkill. It was selfish for him to do this to us on a weekday, overly aware that we had other classes to tend to as well. He didn’t care. We’ve tried multiple times to tell him that it was too much for us as we were suffering mentally along with our grades, but he didn’t care. He made it known too. He would just laugh it off, his nasally voice piercing our ears with his go to response for everything, ‘You must always be prepared for the unprepared!’. Eventually, we stopped trying to reason with him. It was hopeless.
He sent the mass email around six last night, the foreboding assignment attached. I wanted to rip my hair out as I read his stupid catchphrase in the body of his email. Not only was I caught up in my other subjects, but it was already late and I certainly didn’t plan to work Natural Science into my schedule. Upon first glance of the assignment, I thought I was reading Latin. You really needed a dictionary to decipher his vocabulary, on paper and in class. Humperdick was old school. He was ninety something after all. He was too stuck in the past to get with the times. At least he was able to send us emails and not homing pigeons. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely loved science. The only issue here was him. His teaching methods clashed with my learning methods ten fold. I was teetering between a C minus and a solid D. Also very unlike me. I was a straight A student. When it came to facts, I knew I wasn’t the problem. A handful of people in my class were also struggling. It was him. He made me want to gouge my eyes and ear drums out so I didn’t have to see or hear him ever again.
I settled into my seat, pulling my messy hair into a half assed bun before opening my laptop, searching for my poor excuse for a completed assignment. My eyes scanned my answers, puffing my cheeks up slightly. A lot of my answers were pulled out of my ass. I gave up near the end of it and put down random key words just to get it done. I already knew that there was going to be a big fat F, a condescending email was coming my way for sure. I sighed and closed my laptop halfway so I didn’t have to look my failure in the face.
“You’re looking lively.” Caitlyn said sarcastically before sitting down next to me.
I peeked an eye open to give her a scowl before closing them again.
“You’re too kind. I bombed this assignment. Again.” I huffed, jabbing my laptop touchpad a few times with my finger.
Caitlyn pulled my computer towards her, gently pushing the screen up to get a full view and quietly read my answers out loud. As she did, I watched her expressions go from neutral to confused. Exactly how I looked last night when doing the damn thing.
“Oh you…” She gave an empathetic smile before closing my computer halfway, sliding it back to me. “You certainly…um…tried!”
She was such a great best friend. Really knew how to comfort me with her hesitation and forced encouraging words. It really warmed my heart. Not.
“Ugh. I should just drop out. I’m going to fail anyway.” I groaned, sitting up straight in my chair, staring off into the distance. Caitlyn flicked my shoulder and shot me a concerned look.
“You can’t. Your scholarship would go down the drain.” She said sternly, placing her hand on mine. “I think it’s time we talked about tutoring.” I quickly retracted my hand and felt my face morph into a look of disgust.
“Yeah, no thank you. I’m perfectly capable. I’ll just study harder. I don’t need a tutor.” I scoffed, crossing my arms. If there was anything more I hated than Humpdunk, it was receiving help. It made me feel like I was incapable or incompetent. Mostly sick to my stomach. If I couldn’t do it myself, my clinically diagnosed OCD of perfectionism was going to give me a week long stomach ache with a side of intense nausea. Even with Zofran, it wasn’t enough to counter my psychological tummy ache. I get the gist of why she suggested one, but my pride was definitely the one pushing back on her proposal. Caitlyn looked annoyed at my response. She scoffed, shoving my laptop in my face.
“These answers clearly show you’re capable, right?” She pulled the laptop back and softly slammed it on the desk. “You need to take this seriously. Remember the whole reason behind why you’re here, Y/N.”
Her British accent always got thicker the more she was annoyed. It was cute. I didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. If I was going to become a nurse, I had to pass this class, all of them, with flying colors. Nursing was very competitive. If I was going to be considered, I had to be a top student. I was acing every other class I had, this was the only problem child I had. I exhaled with defeat and shrugged.
“Okay. Fine. Tutor it is. When can we start?” I whined, sinking into my chair. Big mistake. My ass was so sweaty, it squeaked against the plastic chair, sounding like a small fart. I quickly sat up, my cheeks glowing bright red.
Caitlyn blinked at me a couple times before chuckling, ignoring my unholy sound.
“Me? No, not me. I mean, I would, I-I just don’t have the time.” She stumbled over her words.
She was being truthful, sort of. I knew that she was taking a handful of difficult courses herself, but a big chunk of her time was definitely dedicated to her girlfriend Vi. Vi, a pink haired muscley butch girl, recently graduated from the police academy, meaning her and Caitlyn’s schedules were vastly different. Vi worked the night shift while Caitlyn went to school during the day. They would always try to fit each other in when they could. I couldn’t be upset at her for putting her first. I would too if I had a girlfriend. I’ve been single for so long I’m pretty sure bats would fly out of my crotch if I engaged in any sort of intimacy.
“Then who? Where am I going to find a tutor? I don’t know anyone else in class but you.” I grumbled. My social skills weren’t great for me to ask around either. I felt like a sitting duck.
Caitlyn stayed quiet for a moment before her eyes lit up with excitement. “I think I know who!”
Ďalší návrat k zbraniam z Báthoryovského cyklu. Tentokrát strelným.
(Diablova pevnosť, kapitola 11, strana 275-6)
Ó áno, v dobách, kedy streľba spočívala v zdĺhavom nabíjaní po každom jednom výstrele, je zbraň s ktorou možno páliť dva razy za sebou, či už na ten istý cieľ, alebo úplne iný v opačnom smere, naozaj darom z nebies. Hlavne keď protivník čosi také vôbec nečaká.
Nejde o prvý kus na svete. Tie spadajú ešte do storočia predošlého a azda najslávnejšia je krásna slonovinou a zlatom zdobená 0,5 metrová a cez 2 kg vážiaca dvojhlavňová pištoľ s dvomi kolieskovými zámkami venovaná Petrom Peckom cisárovi Karlovi V v 1540.
Šlo o naozaj náročnú konštrukciu a ozajstný dar pre najvyššie postaveného muža Európy.
Kým kresadlová zámka sa vďaka lacnejšej výrobe, nižšej poruchovosti a menej náročnej údržbe počas 17. storočia stala široko dostupnou a kolieskové zámky vytlačila, dvojhlavňové zbrane sa začali hromadne vyrábať až v storočí 18. a 19.
Slávu si vydobyli takéto brokovnice počas Sedem ročnej vojny v kolóniách na východe Nového sveta, bitke o Alamo počas Texaskej revolúcie, či v rukách moreplavca Jamesa Cooka. Ich sestry so spílenými hlavňami bolo počuť po celom Divokom západe. A predchodkyne perkusných howdah pištolí so sebou nosili lovci v Indii a Afrike.
V Kornelovej dobe by ešte stále šlo o vzácnosť a majster, ktorého pracovnou náplňou bolo vyrábať takéto kusy, patril medzi ozajstnú špičku.
Na oficiálnom fb profile sa svojho času vynorila aj obrazová dokumentácia.
Ďuro čerpal z tejto publikácie.
Zbraně nejrůznějšího druhu - od asyrských oštěpů po AK47 - hrály významnou roli během celých lidských dějin. O osudu mocných říší i průběhu
Ja by som pridala ešte zopár slov z iných zdrojov.
Ako autor priznáva, je to jeden z prípadov, kedy si históriu trochu prispôsobil, keďže nizozemský vynálezca Ondro sa narodil roku 1648, takže v čase Diablovej pevnosti sa ešte len učil na nočník.
O jeho mladosti sa mi nepodarilo nájsť nič, ale k jeho kariére sa viaže nejaký ten míľnik.
Celým menom Andreas Rheinhold Dolep, prezývaný aj "Holanďan", sa podľa viacerých zdrojov uchytil na dánskom kráľovskom dvore, kde slúžil princovi Jurajovi (Jørgenovi).
Dánsky trón zdedil jeho starší brat Kristián. Jurajovi bola pridelená úloha v upevňovaní anglicko-dánskej aliancie voči Nizozemsku. A tak sa v 1680 oženil s anglickou princeznou a neskôr kráľovnou Annou (k veľkej nechuti Viliama Oranžského, manžela jej staršej sestry Márie a rodeného Nizozemca).
Nie je preto s podivom, že kráľovský choť zavítal aj na britskú pôdu, kde mu bol udelený titul vojvodu a neskôr aj veliteľa námorných síl. A z domoviny si so sebou priviedol aj početný sprievod, ktorého bol Dolep zjavne súčasťou.
Kým Juraj bol Viliamom vytlačený na okraj diania (čomu sa nijak dôrazne nebránil, uprednostňujúc jednoduchý domácky život), zrelý puškár čulo nadväzoval nové obchodné styky.
Medzi jeho klientov patrili Phillip Howard z Charing Crossu v Londýne - veliteľ kráľovninho jazdeckého oddielu (Troops of Horse Guards), Browni z Blackburnu, William Legge - gróf z Dartmouthu, Kosimo III - veľkovojvoda Toskánska aj samotný anglický kráľ Karol II.
Vysokopostavení priatelia sa mu naozaj zišli, pretože sa dostal do maléru s predajom neodskúšaných zbraní.
Na ich distribúciu totiž dozerala Puškárska spoločnosť (Worshipful Company of Gunmakers), jeden zo 111 livrejových korunou posvätených londýnskych cechovných spolkov, autorita s právomocou zhabať všetko, čo neprešlo ich schvaľovacou procedúrou. Voči Dolepovi sa stavali odmietavo, podľa jedného zdroja spor tkvel v zamestnávaní cudzincov. V 1686 si naň za faktické pristihnutie pri porušení zákona tvrdo došliapli.
Trvalo dvanásť mesiacov, než ho z mastnej pokuty a sprievodných trampôt jeho konexie vysekali (pomohlo patriť na výplatnú pásku šéfa zbrojného predstavenstva koruny (Board of Ordnance)). No s obchádzaním kontroly neskončil a viaceré z jeho kúskov datovaných do neskorších rokov taktiež nenesú značku Puškárskej spoločnosti. Údajne si tak strážil výrobné tajomstvo.
Šťastie mu prialo a v 1691 podarilo obdržať titul trvalého čestného rezidenta (denization). V Anglicku sa aj oženil (Kostol sv Martina v Londýne) a zomrel (mestečko Barrow nad Soar), dosiahnuc vek 65 rokov. Jeho syn George Edward Dolep v remesle pokračoval.
(Princ Juraj, erb Puškárskej spoločnosti, miesto Dolepovej smrti)
Dolep rozvíjal zrýchlenú a viacnásobnú streľbu hneď v niekoľkých smeroch.
Medzi jeho chuťovky patrila mušketa s krátkou hlavňou, známa ako "blunderbass", masívna to ručnica s neveľkým dostrelom, zato rozšíreným otvorom, ktorý sa poľahky nabíja (užitočné za jazdy na koni, či v koči). V 17. storočí zažila rozmach (od civilistov, po námorníctvo, najväčšia priazeň u kočišov) a ustúpiť ju donútilo až storočie 19. a masová produkcia zbraní s vývrtmi (spresnenie mušky).
Anglické pomenovanie je odvodené z holandčiny - "donderbus", alebo hromová nálož (bus - buxus - škatuľa). Na ostrovoch zaužívané "blunder" miesto správneho prekladu "thunder" sa zvykne vysvetľovať ako popis zmätku, ktorý takýto výstrel zvykol vyvolať.
Mňa osobne by neprekvapilo ani to, keby takýmto pomenovaním Briti naznačovali, že je to zbraň pre tých, ktorí nevedia poriadne mieriť a zakopávajú aj o vlastné nohy. Mimoriadne široký rozptyl viacerých projektilov totiž v takých prípadoch padne vhod.
Existovala aj menšia, pištoľová verzia, ktorou boli často vybavované jazdecké oddiely. Označovala sa ako "dragon" (jeden z predpokladaných pôvodov výrazu dragún) a dokonca aj bývala zdobená dračími motívmi. Ústie chrliace plamene a olovo dojmu napomáhalo.
Exemplár - https://www.rockislandauction.com/detail/85/1257/andrew-dolep-brass-barreled-flintlock-blunderbuss
Okrem toho experimentoval so vzduchovkami.
Síce náročnejšie na konštrukciu, no oproti vtedajším palným zbraniam mali niekoľko výhod. Vďaka využívaniu tlaku vzduchu miesto pušného prachu fungovali aj vo vlhkom počasí. Streľba a pomerne často i nabíjanie boli rýchlejšie než pri klasických palných spredu nabíjaných zbraniach. Hlaveň nebolo potrebné čistiť od zvyškov pušného prachu. Zároveň boli o trochu tichšie a výstrel nesprevádzal ohnivý záblesk, ani kúdol dymu, takže strelcovi ostal čistý výhľad a aj on sám zotrval menej nápadný.
Najstarší dochovaný kus máme z 1580, v 17. a 18. storočí už šlo o pomerne rozšírenú hračku, populárnu hlavne na poľovačkách. Postupne sa stala aj výbavou špecializovaných vojenských oddielov.
Dolep sa zrejme rozhodol, že to nie je dostatočná výzva, pretože skonštruoval rovno pušku s kombinovaným strelným mechanizmom.
Doložený kus má panvičku s vývodom ústiacim do hlavne netypickým pre zbrane vzdušné, zato typickým pre palné.
K skrutkovateľnému guľatému mosadznému rezervoáru na stlačený vzduch patrí aj mosadzno-drevená pumpička. Cieľom týchto a pažbových rezervoárov bolo uskladniť dostatok vzduchu na hneď niekoľko výstrelov.
Pri panvičke je ešte jedna súčiastka, ktorej účel nie je známy. Nie je vylúčené, že k nej patril ešte nejaký odnímateľný komponent, ktorý sa stratil.
Ďalšou z vychytávok v jeho repertoári boli zadovky.
Zbrane pýšiace sa mechanizmom známym ako "breech loading", spočívajúcim v tom, že hlaveň je odklápacia a istená záverom. Zbraň teda možno nabíjať zozadu miesto spredu a nestrácať čas s nejakým zasúvaním projektilov za pomoci nabijaku.
Najstaršie exempláre zadoviek sú niektoré experimentálne delá zo 14. a 15. storočia. V 16. storočí máme doloženú už aj ručnú zbraň, u anglického kráľa Henricha VIII, ktorý ju nosieval na poľovačky. Ale dobou plošného rozšírenia je až storočia 19. s nábojmi, ktoré majú vlastnú prachovú nálož.
V storočí 17. by ešte stále šlo o luxusný artikel a ich konštruovanie, účinné uzatváranie proti zadnému úniku spalín (či iným trampotám) a dosiaľ vysoká zachovalosť svedčia o Dolepovej nadpriemernej zručnosti.
Táto konkrétna má navyše zásobník pušného prachu na tri až štyri výstrely, takže za vyššie uvedeného zrýchleného nabíjania umožňuje čosi blížiace sa súvislej paľbe.
A napokon kúsok, ktorý je tak trocha na polceste k revolveru.
To, čo si zvykneme predstaviť pod pojmom revolver, je výtvor Samuela Colta, ktorého prvý patentovaný model (colt paterson, 1836) mal hlaveň s vývrtmi a päťkomorový samotočivý bubnový zásobník na západku (proti točeniu v nesprávnom smere).
Predchádzali mu rôzne ručne otáčané niekoľkohlavňové "koreničky" s pôvodom v luntových (zapaľovanie na tlejúci knôt) viachlavňových ojedinelých experimentoch z 15. a 16. storočia a už trochu hromadnejšie vyrábaných kresadlovkách prevažne podľa vzoru Nock, prípadne Segallas zo storočia 18.
Dolep to ešte v tom 17. skúsil s takouto zadovkou vybavenou trojkomorovým zásobníkom. Keďže zásobník je spojený a hlavňou a otáčajú sa spoločne, ústie hlavne je zdobené troma listami, každým presne v línii pohľadu. Otáčanie je tak ako pri neskorších koreničkách manuálne.
Exemplár - https://www.bonhams.com/auctions/13738/lot/93/
Najčastejšie spomínaná publikácia Great British Gunmakers 1540-1740 od W. Keith Neala a D.H.L. Backa vraj obsahuje hneď deväť príkladov Dolepových výtvorov a internet s aukčnými webmi a nadšeneckými blogmi za ňou nezaostáva, takže komu sa máli, môže vyraziť pátrať po ďalších.
Ja som už ale svoj zásobník vystrieľala a túto sondu do nizozemského puškárskeho umenia uzatváram.
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"I wasn't joking." I say pulling up to the crummy looking liquor store. We had driven near an hour out of town to not get caught. I opened the door before closing it again as he was too in shock. "Gimme your card." I say holding my hand out.
"My What?" Jasper says snapping out of shock.
"Your card, so I can buy the good stuff." I say making grabby hands.
Soon a card is placed in my hand and I examine it with a smile. "I'll give it back. Hunters promise." I say cheekily. I open the door and step to the door. "You'd better stay out here. Your not exactly old enough kiddo." I joke and he makes a face at me.
I laugh while walking into the store and buying a bottle of expensive liquor and an a bottle of my favorite. The whole trip went off without a hitch.
Jasper continued to eye the bottles as I drove. "Looking at em won't make em disappear doll face. It's just part of the hunter lifestyle to be an alcoholic. Unless your Sam. Then your a health nut." I crack.
I pull up to the motel and turn off my car. "Now you know where I sleep. If you try to kill me I will decapitate you with my bare hands." I say tilting my head with a sweet smile. My tone sounds flirtatious but my threat is very real.
He nods and exits the car as I do. Again opening my door. I tilt an invisible hat toward him as I open my motel door. "Night night cowboy. Don't stay up too late." I tease.
Before I close the door his foot stops it and he speaks in a rushed voice. "Do you think, could I join you tomorrow?"
"Mr Hale, whatever crush you think you might have on me, ain't gonna happen." I clench the brown paper bag. "I'm going home soon, I'm going to see my brothers and my friends. I'm gonna shoot Chuck and all this," I wave my free hand, "will be some distant nightmare." I drop my head at his hurt expression. "I have to get home, I have to know they're okay. I have to know or I can't—" I choke on a lump in my throat as it rises higher. "Most hunters don't get to have families. When we do, we hold onto it with claws and teeth, your argue and fight but you don't let go for a damn second because the second you do they're gone for good. I bided my time in this place thinking it was in my head. I wasted enough time playing nice with teenagers. I wasted even more time waiting for some villain to show up. I'm going to bed and then I'm hightailing the fuck outta here even if I have to rip a rift myself." I looked back at him with angry glassy eyes. "Your the empath, tell me if anything I said was a lie." I bite.
He turns away unable to make eye contact as he feels my emotional pain. He then tries to manipulate it to at least ease the pain in my heart but I hold my hand up.
"Don't. Let me feel for myself." I close the door more. "Goodnight Hale." The lock clicks into place and I drift to the bed before putting the expensive bottle to my lips. I swirl it in my mouth before swallowing.
The next morning I wake at the asscrack of dawn and begin packing my few clothes and strapping myself with weapons. I open the door and am met with a broad chest that I follow upward to see jaspers nervous expression.
"If you stayed out here all night I'm officially calling you stalker till the day I die." I say grouching as I tug my duffle over my shoulder. "Cmon Bronco. Burning daylight." I say opening my passenger side door and throwing my duffle in the back. At the same time another door opened but not to my car. I turn and am greeted with Carlisle stepping out of his pristine car.
"I hope you don't mind but my academic curiosity was peaked and I'd like to come with." Carlisle says.
"Fucking Victorians." I mumble under my breath. "Yeah yeah, follow me." I slid into my car and Jasper sits himself in my passenger seat as I pull out the motel parking lot.
I'm sure I sped the whole way there but no cops stopped me so I didn't care. I wasn't going nearly as fast as the Cullens drive. As I drive old tapes of bands play through the speakers. Highway to hell and fly by the night to name a few. They were mixtapes dean had made me for my own car. They were in my hunter duffle and that's how they came to here.
I pulled off the road and grabbed both the tape and the duffle as I stepped out the car.
"You walked from here, all the way into town?" Carlisle asks in surprise.
"Little further doc." I say before walking further up the road until I reach past the sign that says forks. I walk another 20 feet before stopping. "Here." I set my duffle and things by the side of the road as I start to examine what was my entry to this world. I begin to mutter under my breath as I walk around.
"No sulfur, not a demon. No hangin bodies, not a djin. Leaves one more option." I kneel on the ground and put my hand flat on the asphalt as I try to channel energy. After a few minutes I shake my hand from the hot asphalt and snarl in anger. "Where the fuck are you?" I whisper under my breath.
"Whats wrong?" Carlisle asks coming closer to my side. Both vampires had been silent as they too took their own examinations of the site.
"No sulfur, no grace. Nothing." I say growling as I glare at the ground.
"Isn't that good?" Carlisle asks.
"No captain obvious. It means I can't track what brought me here! It means I don't know what brought me here. It means I have to rip the rift myself and with no angels on your side!!" I say with growing anger as I begin to breathe heavily. My chest begins to hurt but I ignore it in favor of getting chalk from my duffle and then writing various runes and symbols.
"And these are?" Carlisle asks in curiosity. He knows I'm angry but he asks in hopes that talking will calm me down.
It does some but I still have an angry disposition. "Symbols. This is for travel and that is time, this one is for sacrifice." I say explaining a few.
"Sacrifice?" Carlisle asks in worry.
"The virgins are safe doc, not that kind of sacrifice." I joke. I tip my head back down to the sacrifice symbol. "Needs blood. No, I won't be needing a donor or anything. Not human. And not neither you. Needs grace, or angel blood if you wanna get technical." Before they can ask how I would get angel blood I slice my wrist open and blood begins to steadily drip over the chalk sigil. The blood begins turning white and glowing faintly. Not nearly as bright as a pure angle would be, but it's something.
I hear a scuffle behind me as Carlisle is holding Jasper back. Probably expecting him to go rabid with bloodlust but Jasper starts pushing Carlisle away.
"I'm fine! Im fine! Look at my eyes." Jasper says referencing how his eyes haven't darkened a shade.
"I'd be poisonous anyway, doc." I shout to them before turning back around to continue. When I feel like enough blood has left and I feel lightheaded I hold my hand over the wound to stop it. I dip the hand not holding the wound in the puddle and drag it with my fingers toward time, grace and travel until I've made a bloody triangle. I stand up and say some Latin mixed with the first language and a small rift grows into existence with a screech. When the sound of ripping dulls I can hear talking then yelling.
"Sammy get the hell away from that thing!!" Dean screams in a distorted voice.
"It appears to be a rift?" Shadows move through the rift and then a light flashes inside the blurry window. "It leads to a world called twilight. Created by a..."
"Cas?" I say nervously.
"Marcella?" Cas responds immediately to the sound of my voice.
I can't hold myself up any longer and fall to my knees before the rift. "Sam? Dean?" I call out to them.
"Marcella! It's good to hear from you kid." Dean says as his shadow moves forward toward the rift.
I choke on a sob as I clench my arm tighter.
"You okay where your at?" Sam asks in a worried tone.
"Yeah," I sniffle as my eyes fill with tears. "I'm safe now, no ghouls or anything on this side. Been laying low at forks high. Waiting for rescue."
"I know kid, but we'd been looking everywhere for you. Heaven, hell, purgatory. We never considered..." Dean says. "We miss you."
"Do you know who did this? And why twilight? Why not mash or the matrix. Did you know they don't even have fangs!" I said with a sad kind of laugh.
Dean laughs too but it's guttural and starts too high pitched to be his normal laugh. "Yeah, you seen the werewolves yet, they don't eat hearts or anything." Dean jokes further. "Big ass puppy dogs!" He laughs again.
"Marcella, how long have you been there?" Sam asks with his usual worry.
"Month, month and a week?" I bit my lip.
"Marcel, it's been a week." Sam says in a sad tone that carries his shock and fear.
"Can't—can't be." I shake my head. Best not to dwell. "Is there a rescue plan, a escape plan, anything?"
"Yeah, find you and get your ass home, where you'll be grounded for the forceable future." Dean orders jokingly.
"Hey I didn't ask to get kidnapped, old man!" I yell back at him but I can't help the smile.
"Well you still can't leave the bunker. And no boyfriends and no joyrides in the impala. Until we gank the sonof bitch that took ya." Dean adds.
His humor and teasing makes me laugh and start crying again. "Can we watch scooby doo and westerns?" I ask in a small voice.
"Always. We can even eat popcorn and complain bout Sammy being a—" before Dean could finish there is the sound of him being hit while Sam whined his name.
"Marcella?"
"Yeah Cas?"
"When you get back do you wanna help me plant flowers for my bees? Recently I found a very beautiful flower and it grows best in late may but you'll be back by then so we can plant a lot of them." Cas says in his monotone voice.
"Hell yeah!" I agree immediately. Before realizing his words. 'But you'll be back by then.'
Will I? A pit in my stomach forms but I smile.
Then the light from the rift begins dulling. Panic swells in my chest. "Cas, Dean, Sam! Guys?!"
"Marcel!" "Marcella."
"Dean! Sam!" I reach for the rift as if I could hold it open. "Cas!"
"Marcellla!" A fearful scream distorts its way though the rift and I stretch my fingers over the rift but it closes and my hands fall through open air and I fall on them.
"No, no nonono." I begin to shake as I take gulps of air though my collapsing airways. Everything is constricting the longer the silence stretches. "Sammy?" I ask in a broken whisper. "Dean? Cas?" My head begins to spilt as I cry harder. I bang my fist against the middle of the triangle where sacrifice is written. My hands splash in the already sludgy puddle of my own blood. I beat my fists harder as I cry. "Open, aperta, Άνοιξε, отворен, otevřít se, offen, opna." With each word I bang my fist again until they begin to bleed with the force. Strong hands grab mine as they stop me from my continued abuse.
I twist in their grip as they pick me up and pull me from the area. "No, Jasper put me down. Put me down! Jasper!" I struggle harder as I begin to hyperventilate. "Let me Go! They were right there!" I feel myself growing lightheaded as I scream what little oxygen I have. Soon passing out.
~~
When I wake again I feel the bandages on my hands and a splitting headache that I recognize from crying and not a hangover. I blink at the ceiling before cracking again. My ribs feel like they are splitting from the sadness and longing that force their way down my throat. I choke on my tears and feel the overwhelming urge to scream but I bite my lip and pull myself up. I unwrap my hands to see the healing wounds and the slit in my wrist gone.
I set my feet on the floor and stand up. Quickly someone blurs into the room to my side. My hand catches the person by the throat as I hold them there. Their hand moves to my waist to keep me from falling and I blink again to realize it's Jasper. His hand is the only thing keeping me from falling and mine keeps him at an arms length.
I push any feelings of sadness and anxiety to the side until it's easily ignored. Compartmentalizing. Something Dean unintentionally taught me in the years I spent with the brothers. You don't need emotions when your a hunter.
I tilt my head and squeeze his neck and feel him flex his arm as he swallows his venom down. Teasingly I say under my breath, "too kinky for you, cowboy?"
His eyes flash a dark amber. And he grins. Jasper leans forward and I let him by bending my arm, hand still on his throat. I expected him to stop sooner but he moves even closer until my arm is bent completely as I keep it on his neck. I can feel his chest through where my forearm is pressed against him. His hand that was on my waist wraps around my whole back until it's on the opposite hip. "I don't know, Darling." He whispers huskily and my cheeks flame up but I tamper that down as I flirt back, challengingly.
"You play dirty." I nose his cheek as my free hand moves to his hip and slips under his shirt to rub my thumb against his hip bone. He gasps for unneeded air as his grip on me becomes tighter. "But One thing about hunters is we play dirtier." I tease as my lips brush against the shell of his ear with my parting words. Then I'm slipping out of his grip and twirled around him to walk to the door. My hand is on the door knob and I turn to him. In a completely normal voice that doesn't give anything away I say, "well your house, ain'tcha gonna show me around?"
"Yes ma'am." He says drawling the words purposely. I roll my eyes and open the door. Im blinded by the countless windows that let the surrounding forest be visible and let light in. We pass a wall of graduation caps and I chuff the air our my nose in a short laugh.
"Think it's funny." He teases me.
"I'm twenty two. You couldn't catch me dead with a cap an gown." I shivered. I leaned against the banister of the stairwell. I could hear the other Cullens in the house, moving and trying to be quiet. I turn to Jasper with a mischievous smile before jumping over the railing and landing the two floors below with precision. I turn around with a beaming smile to see Jasper.
"Took you long enough, trouble on the stairs?" I say with amusement.
"Did you really have to do that?" He asks.
"Yes." I say seriously before walking to the living room where I sit not on the couch but on the floor leaning against it.
"Why is she on the floor?" Emmet asks in a loud whisper.
"Wouldn't you like to eat, honey?" Esme asks in a mothering tone but instead of comfort the hair on my neck stands on end.
"Not hungry." I dismiss regardless of being hungry. "You have questions...again." I say addressing the elephant in the room.
"The—" Carlisle stalls unable to find a right word to fit what occurred yesterday.
"Ritual, or spell if you prefer." I offer.
"The spell you did yesterday, you said it required sacrifice. Not human blood, not vampire either. It required angel blood—grace. If so why did you slit your wrist?"
I sigh dramatically while rolling my eyes. "Geez gramps couldn't take you any longer to get to the question." I tease. I suck my teeth in agitation. "When I met the Winchester it was just after the apocalypse started. Before sealing Lucifer away, dear ol Lucy took interest in me. Kidnapped me away and tortured me for a month straight." I grin darkly at the ground. An odd amusement grows in my chest making my words come out chirpy and sarcastic. "You'd think you know torture until your in the hands of an Archangel. He would remove limbs before restarting. Skinned my whole arm." I chuckle and meet the doctors horrified eyes. "Anything he thought would be fun to try, he did. Then he got this sick idea. Angels can have children with humans, the term nephilihim comes to mind. But he wondered what would happen if he was to forcefully and manually imbue his grace into my blood and body. Archangels have so much juice that just a fraction can be lost without making a dent to them." I calm my excited jitter with my other hand. "I'm not a full angel by any means. Angels are their grace, without it they are human. But you can imagine how your venom reacts differently than your wife's. Some grace is soft." I think of cas and the time he healed my broken arm. "Some so savage and full of fire that it burns from the outside in."
I take a deep breath as I try to calm my erratic excited heartbeat. "To imbue me with grace was give me some of him. His pain, anger, bloodlust and hate for humans. Like two souls arguing over a body." I wave my words away dismissively and bend my knee to my chest. "I never told Dean any of this. Cas knows I go dark. Sam might suspect because we've both been so close to Lucifer. But how would you tell your big brother you've been grace-raped by the devil?"
"So your an Angel but like part devil?" Emmet asked after the potent silence.
"Part Angel, and I don't have devil in me. It's a fraction of the mark of Cain. Least that's what Gabriel theorized." I sigh and let my head fall back on the cushion as I expose my neck. "Being part Angel means I heal faster, got better reflexes and am stronger. Basically it's a power up."
"But who's stronger?" Emmet asked and my head snapped to him.
"Nephilihim, god, archangel, then pagans, then monsters, lastly humans. I'm between archangel and pagan." I says in a contemplative voice.
This time Alice was the one to speak. "You said there was a war Coming, I haven't seen a war."
"Something about new bloods or— led by some red head. Something something something baseball!" I look away from the ceiling to meet the Cullens exasperated looks. "What? Oh so now it's my fault for not paying attention. You try listening to dean talk about sex every other sentence. I lost interest." I shrug.
~~~ months passed and I tried to have weekly rift calls with my brothers. Sitting on the pavement in front of the rift as I talked to them like everything was normal. When all I wanted was to be home in the bunker.
"You shouldn't call so frequently. Sam he uh... he told me how you can do this. Cas filled in the rest." Deans voice cracked even under the distortion. "Cas said it's dangerous for you. Doing this, using his grace. He said you go—" deans voice cuts out. "It's like Sam with the wall, you can't keep doing this or your gonna break. Whether that makes you a vegetable or you go full blown ripper. These personality changes can't be healthy." Even though the rift I could hear the pain and guilt in his voice.
"I never blamed you. Not even when he told me what you were doing at the time. He could hurt me and tell me you were eating a sandwich and I not once blamed you. The hunt before I was kidnapped you saved my life and I could never imagine what happened after. You are my brother in all but blood. I would never blame you or Sam for the pain I went through. To you it was a month to me it felt like a lifetime. You said the same thing about hell once and did you ever blame Sam for being in hell?"
"Well no because—"
"That's kinda what makes a Winchester, the ability to live and die for family and still love unconditionally. Do you remember anymore about the newborn army?"
"You aren't actually planning to fight with them?" Dean asked in exasperation.
"Time moves quicker here. What may be a month to you will be many to me. The army will still come. And I'll keep calling every week. If I contain it until the army comes then I can let lose and not harm anybody. Nobody human." I say the last part sarcastically.
"No! No!" I hear shouting and the silhouette of dean turns over his should. "Sammy come in here!"
Sam enters and the two begin to talk fast under there breath. "She's gonna pull another —?"
"What do you mean another? She's done this befo— you've done this before?!" He shouts while turning back to me. "No! End of discussion, your not doing it."
"Dean!" Sam admonishes dean. "Marcella if this is what you need to do, I know this is hard for you. I support whatever decision you take."
"No no no this isn't Winchester approved until I approve it!" Dean argues loudly making me smile at his behavior.
"You guys are the best brothers a hunter could ask for." I say softly. Both sam and Dean stop talking and sam is the first to respond.
"We love you too Marcella. If you do fight be safe and kick some ass." Sam waves as the rift begins closing on its own. This parting is not full of regret or anger. It's just an until next time. Hopefully when deans calmed down and came around to the idea of me fighting against newborns. Or after. I add cheekily.
~~~
The drive back to the Cullen residence is hopeful for me. Sam's okay was all I needed. Deans would've been better but...can't always get what I want.
Jasper opens the door for me and helps me out of the car. The first month after the Cullens found out, I felt edgy around jasper. He obviously shows interest in me but I would shoot it down with reasons why not. He was undeterred and continued his polite gentleman behavior. Like a suitor courting a lady. Eventually I stopped correcting him and just let him do as he pleases.
His fingers moved down my hand as he held it gently in his icy grasp. The cold wasn't unwelcome, temperatures stopped affecting me some time ago.
"Will you tell my family about—"
I cut him off with a small yeah. I smile and walk faster and when I approach the door I swing it open widely and chant "the fun has arrived!" Like in Tarzan. Emmet zooms to my side and tries to tackle me and I sidestep him. "Too slow." I mock. Jasper holds my hand tighter and pulls me to the living room. "Ya know I spend so much time here I'm only at the motel to sleep."
"Your still paying for it?" Carlisle asks in surprise like he only just realized I'm homeless.
"Well duh. I mean it's under Burt Afrihamian but whoop de do."
"Credit card scams, great." Edward says under his breath.
"Cork it angel, Not like saving lives pays good money." I say spitefully. (Because Edward totally looks like angel from Buffy)
"How do you make money then?" Esme asks in curiosity.
"Poker, pool, gambling, sometimes taking a job in the area like day worker or something. Never make enough to sustain ourselves but if we save it then we can buy things like new guns and ammo. Under the counter shit."
"Full blown criminal." Edward says again.
"Say it to my face you limp noodle." I hiss. "Point is. Im fighting with you, not against you."
~~~
Jasper began training me outside of school to see if I was fit for battle as he put it. So far I had taken him down more times then he had taken me down. So I was deemed battle ready but we still spared for fun. The first time I had him pinned his eyes went dark and I met his other personality, the major.
"Hello Darlin'" the accent he used was much thicker than normal. My first clue. "I've been itching to meet you for a time now. You made him flustered enough for me to slip through." His words dripped like honey and venom as he held my waist and lifted the both of us.
This person who isn't Jasper, had a military presence that made him respectable. Second clue.
"And what should I call you?" I say tracing my finger around his eyes.
"Major, that's what everyone calls me." His eyes drifted. "He's worried I'll hurt you?"
I snorted and leaned heavier against him, my hand slipping to his shoulder as I laughed. "Cute. If you've seen it then you know I'll put you on your ass and smile doing it." I grinned sharply and the man practically purred. "So your his dark side? Maybe our two sides will meet, hit it off and slaughter a city." I say sarcastically. He chuffs and noses his head into my neck.
"You smell like pine trees and lightning. Bitter." He purrs pulling me closer. He just barely brushes his lips against my pulse when I wrap my hand around his throat.
"Ah ah ah," I admonish while moving him back. "Keep your nonexistent fangs to yourself, Major. Poisonous, remember." I tease.
He huffs before grinning. "You refuse his/our advancements? Do you not find me attractive?" He teases back.
"Very 'tractive. But I haven't got time to be foolin with a vampire. I'm not really into necrophilia, ya know." I say sarcastically. "And my brother would kill me twice over for it." I joke. He wouldn't really, he'd probably make a bunch of vampire jokes.
(Stay tuned for part four when I finally write the newborn army fight. I’m moving fast cause the fight was the whole reason I wanna write this.)