The in-universe reason the crew knows whether or not the person they ejected was an imposter is because people tend to get... messy in the vacuum of space. This includes imposters, who can't hold onto a form once out of the airlock. Even watching out the window, it's kind of noticeable that tentacles kind of squish out of the suit.
On a similar note: the imposters are indeed shapeshifters. They can and do take off the suits when need be, and it is not as easy as that to tell them apart. If you already knew they weren't human you might notice there is something weird about how they step, a slight accent you can't place, but nothing that couldn't be human. There is a reason crews resort to execution when they get suspicious.
This whole thing has been going on for a while. Human ships are regularly following a route to a near-ish (uninhabited) planet to try and terraform it. Not every ship has imposters on board, but enough of a minority do that there is a reason the humans have protocols for it.
Imposters aren't hunting or eating humans. Instead, its a more Earth-bound conspiracy. Don't get me wrong, the imposters are definitely still aliens. They've just been hired by humans.
Specifically, a rival company. Everything all boils down to money. Another human company is trying to pave the way to selling their own spaceships and routes, and are trying to break down the current monopoly by making the existing ones seem unsafe. It was supposed to be seen as technological failure, but they weren't expecting one of the early attacked ships to survive and announce they had been attacked by aliens.
The imposters are not really individual mercenaries. It's more that their nation has been hired, so each time an imposter gets on a ship, it is because they have individually been given a mission from their duty.
One day a particular ship will discover that the imposters were hired, and that the company that hired them is intending to double cross the actually-very-small nation of mercenaries and have the imposter planet annihilated by vengeful humans, leaving the company declared as heroes with no-one ever knowing about the thousands of lives thrown away. This ship, imposters and humans alike, will then quietly make an alliance together and start working to warn both sides. But thats a story that won't happen for years.
Imposters actually are given task lists, because it would be very suspicious if they weren't. They cannot physically complete most of them, though, because they are not great at distinguishing colours. And besides, they don't want to help.
Imposters are also given official rosters. They are on board before the ship leaves Earth, and the humans who hired them have faked their identifications.
Generally speaking, imposters are not necessarily that tough. Their transformations always takes a couple of seconds (which is very long if someone is attacking and you are trying to be able to fight back) and although they are pretty strong for the first swipe, their stamina is awful, even in human form. This is why they tend to sneak up behind crewmates - in an actual chance to fight that the crewmate can get over their surprise, the odds start to sway to the human. Its not a guarantee, obviously, and depends on their skills and luck, but there is a reason imposters go for the one sharp attack.
There are other ways to successfully kill an imposter other than throwing them out the airlock. However, the airlock was discovered when an imposter simply got up from being stabbed with their own knife. The human crewmates reacted by going straight to overkill, and it worked. So that became policy.
The vents thing is directly tied into the shapeshifting thing. Specifically, the vents are not big enough for a human to fit. Getting through them involves shifting slightly. They tend to reform as they come out the end, but that still means someone can see you with your legs in a vent that should not fit.
Imposters cannot swim. This would be a very useful way to tell them apart from humans, but nobody actually knows about this weakness. Not many pools on the ship.
You know, as a kid, I used to think Dain was ridiculously lucky with his plan in Return to Del. Like, most of it was pretty well thought through, such as getting their attention or setting traps. But, there was that one pretty important moment that started it, in which the Belt announced the heir was nearby.
Having finished the book, we all know who the Belt was really referring to. But as a kid - and frankly, as a grown adult two days ago - it always seemed like something Dain couldn't possibly have guessed.
I always brushed it aside. Maybe Dain was planning to step forwards and claim he was being called by the Belt. Maybe he just went with what happened, changed his timetable just a little from whatever was originally.
Or maybe...
The reason that the Belt started to burn had nothing to do with the heir at all.
Bat-burger’s vigilante toys has a limited edition Robin run, where all five Robins were given their own dolls. The problem is, as fast food toys tend to be, they lack much distinguishing detail. There are clearly two different Robins wearing the scaly panties, but for the life of them none of the Bats can work out which is meant to be Dick and which is Jason. Both have claimed theirs is the taller one.
(“Come on, I’m the only Robin who was an adult in that costume, it’s clearly me.”
“You didn’t start as an adult; ask anyone and they’d remember the first Robin as a tiny little kid. I was twelve when I started, you were nine.”
“Yeah but you were such a short twelve year old.”)
Bat-burger’s vigilante toys has a limited edition Robin run, where all five Robins were given their own dolls. The problem is, as fast food toys tend to be, they lack much distinguishing detail. There are clearly two different Robins wearing the scaly panties, but for the life of them none of the Bats can work out which is meant to be Dick and which is Jason. Both have claimed theirs is the taller one.
(“Come on, I’m the only Robin who was an adult in that costume, it’s clearly me.”
“You didn’t start as an adult; ask anyone and they’d remember the first Robin as a tiny little kid. I was twelve when I started, you were nine.”
“Yeah but you were such a short twelve year old.”)
So I, like a million others, have wondered who’s going to be on the Iron Throne at the end of the series.
At the moment, there are three contenders.
Scratch that, there are four. And honestly, the Night King winning would be a pretty neat ending just for the sheer unexpectedness. Game of Thrones is famous for plot twists, after all, ASoIaF even more so.
But I don’t think it will end with Westeros lost to the dead.
So there are three /human/ contenders. Danaerys, Cersei, and Jon.
Cersei’s going down. This isn’t just a ‘the bad guy can’t win’ - she’s got no chance. She has one ally with military power left, and somehow I doubt that Euron is going to be loyal to the end. Qyburn might be, and the Mountain and the bank may prove troublesome, but Cersei is going down. The only question is if she drags anyone else with her.
I kinda hope its Danaerys. I have nothing against Dany, really. But the displaced princess who overcame all odds to take back her kingdom? A little dull. It’s just… it’s the sort of tale that didn’t fit Westeros ever since the honourable heroic protagonist lost his head in the first season. So I don’t want Dany to win, and I think it’d be a cop out for her to give up the Iron Throne before her death.
That leaves the dark horse, Jon Snow. The long-lost prince who even he doesn’t know is an option. Less obvious than the queen who spent her entire storyline aiming for power, but still it’s been kinda heavy-handed recently. When one of the last lines of the 2nd last season is explicitly calling him the heir, it seem overt.
Maybe I’m reading into it, but I kinda hope Jon’s a red herring. I doubt he’s going to die (and I am invested in him surviving give this boy his happy ending) if he survived being literally surrounded by white walkers and thrown into an icy lake. But I don’t think the literal stereotype of the North is going to finish the series in the Red Keep. He’s a Stark, not a Targaryen.
So, who do I think should rule?
Someone smart. Someone not considered to be running, but someone who could feasibly be crowned without it coming out of nowhere. Someone with experience, education, intelligence, and perhaps most importantly, a name.
The only character (other than Dany) who not only enjoys power, but wields it properly.
Tyrion Lannister.
Why not? He’s not that strange a thought. If Arya ended up on the throne, that would be a WTF reaction, but Tyrion is a plot-twist that makes sense.
Cersei is the current queen. If this is left legitimate, then her brother could claim it after her death. Jaime would have to renounce his claim (and he has a motive, there’s no indication he wants the throne and would probably hate it) and people would make arguments about how despised Tyrion was by the queen, but he’s her blood. I mean, I admit by this point he’d have been disowned officially in every record, but it’s not unreasonable he’d have some claim on it.
Not to mention, it’s likely Dany might name him as her heir, too. After all, Tyrion already brought up what would happen should she die, and Dany’s smart enough to consider it. There’s no other Targaryen, assuming Jon stands out of the way, and Dany would probably nominate her Hand.
It’s not like Jon would protest. He doesn’t want the Iron Throne; poor guy has been increasingly promoted to Lord Commander and then King without asking his opinion. If he ends up on the Iron Throne it’ll be because he has to, and if there happens to be an alternative that he likes and trusts then he’ll willingly abdicate. He’s not going to fight for a crown he doesn’t want.
I’m not sure. It’s just a thought, but I think it makes sense.
I think the reason people believe Sansa went through less development than her siblings is because she developed into what she always expected herself to be.
Because if you told season one Sansa she was going to turn into a lady, she wouldn't have been surprised. Sansa didn't grow up like she expected, went through mental and physical torture that put more steel into her resolve than she would have thought, but at the end of the day she rules a castle as a lady. She's not her mother, but the woman she grew into is recognisable as Lady Catelyn's daughter.
Meanwhile, Bran turned into a tree. I doubt ten year old him ever saw that as a possibility.
Game of Thrones / A Song of Ice and Fire SUPERHERO AU
Mostly gen, minor Jon/Ygritte, platonic Robb&Theon.
Dotpoint fanfic
(Don’t own anything, title is from the Incredibles)
Okay, so, this is a universe ala The Incredibles, in which ‘having’ powers is hereditary but the powers themselves are not.
Ned and Robb both play really traditional hero roles in canon, so I think they should have typical superpowers.
Ned has superstrength
Robb has flight
Arya with shapeshifting seems obvious, but tbh I think I prefer Arya with invisibility. A little less creepy and it’s easier to slip into the whole ‘no-one’ thing.
Sansa would probably have some form of telepathy. Definitely an empath, and she has a manipulation type power.
· She has to actually have physical contact to convince someone to do something, so she can be pulled back just by wearing too many clothes.
Bran has superpowers in canon, so I think a superhero au would have something very similar.
He can still be able to project and see what happens elsewhere.
Rickon hasn’t gotten his powers yet, because it’s an age thing.
Cat is not looking forward to six children with superpowers.
· She doesn’t have any herself
· Not to say she hasn’t occasionally brained some supervillain with her frypan, but she’s normally preoccupied with the full-time job of keeping a family of superheroes functioning.
She does take over PR whenever anyone’s reputation gets sullied, and is one of the main reason why the ‘Direwolves’ are so beloved by the public.
Jon was adopted after his parents were killed in action.
Aerys was a supervillain who did not take his son running off with a superhero lightly.
· Rhaegar wasn’t even a villain before he eloped with Lyanna. He was a civilian trying to distance himself from the family business, but he fell in love with her secret identity and totally had a crush on the superhero he saw on TV.
I don’t have any real basis for this one, but I love the image of Jon with superspeed.
· When Rickon does get his powers it’s totally superspeed too, and Jon’s saddled with babysitting all the time because he’s literally the only one who can keep up with him
She’s has a second costume that’s even more hidden then the first, and goes around as a sidekick to a superpower-less vigilante that’s willing to teach her more tricks.
The Hound wasn’t planning on taking on a sidekick during his midnight patrols, but a little shadow started following him.
· It takes several weeks before he realises the reason she is so good at disappearing isn’t a coincidence but a literal power.
At first Nymeria was upset that he was in ‘their’ territory, but when she sees him punch someone out using nothing but his own wits she asks him to teach her
· Invisibility in itself is helpful, but she also really wants to learn how to fight back because she’s very vulnerable even at her peak
· Plus if she’s 100% invisible the light travels through her eyes, so she has to either have a fraction of her eyes visible or be blind.
· Sandor teaches her how to fight without sight.
Also, Arya totally pulled an Odysseus (by accident) by saying “No-one!” when asked who she was. The Hound continues to call her that, much to her frustration.
Robb and Theon have been best friends since they were kids
Unfortunately, the Greyjoys happen to be supervillains
· The Starks might not have the same powers, but the Greyjoy family follows a distinct theme of super-intelligence (in the cartoony ‘build-a-death-ray-from-scrap’ way) combined with equally cartoony logic (‘a death ray is the most efficient way to threaten a city, which we must do for reasons’).
Rodrick and Maron are all for supervillainy
Asha isn’t ecstatic, but she has absolutely no objections to being a villain.
· She is pretty much the only one with the common sense to wonder why death rays should be the first choice for a weapon, but she rolls with it.
· An article once commented that if she ever went fully into the business instead of just supporting her family, she’d take over the world in a week. She has the post printed on her wall.
Theon is not really okay with supervillainy, but he desperately wants to be
· He tries to get his father’s approval, he really does, but the fact that he quite clearly has a moral centre holds him back.
· The same article said that he seemed like a good kid, but if he doesn’t get away from his toxic influences he was going to end up doing something major and get a lot of people killed. Theon had almost cried because that was exactly what he felt like was going to happen.
Robb and Theon have both independently worked out the other’s secret identity
· They don’t admit that they know, although they do understand that it’s not a secret that they know
· Theon knows Robb is Grey Wind, Robb knows Theon knows he’s Grey Wind, and Theon knows that Robb knows he knows…
· It’s actually ridiculous at this point.
Jon: “You do realise Theon is a Kraken, right?”
Robb: “What? That’s insane. How could you think that?”
“The shirt he’s wearing now has a kraken on it they do not sell supervillain merchandise in stores that is custom made.”
Somehow the friendship works
· Theon pretends to buy Robb’s obviously bullshit excuses about having forgotten a dentist appointment whenever Grey Wind is needed to fly somewhere.
· Robb makes teasing comments about the ridiculousness of a family that builds giant lasers designed to look like giant sea creatures, and Theon can’t even ‘hypothetically’ argue with that because for a family of geniuses there is a distinct lack of intelligence
“Theon why the fuck would King Kraken build a secret base in the harbour and have gaudy decorations of giant octopi that are basically a sign saying HERE I AM?!”
“…They’re kraken, not octopi. And, um, I wouldn’t know. No, seriously, I don’t know why, I don’t even get the fascination with krakens, at least the Direwolves don’t have anything more wolf-y than a coat of arms on their chests.”
At some point Jon is planning to rip Theon’s mask off mid-confrontation because really, if they’re going to be friends they should at least stop this I know you know I know tangle.
Tywin Lannister is basically Lex Luthor
He doesn’t have the same inherent problem Luthor does with superheroes existing, but occasionally has similar problems with them interfering with his plans
· The Starks are not quite sure if he has in fact been fooled by the Direwolves masks, or if is entirely aware of who they are but so far has not found an opportunity to use it.
· He knows who they are but won’t say anything.
· Superheroes are almost impossible to kill. If he were to blow up their house chances are one or two would die and the rest would be out for blood, which is a lot more inconvenient then them occasionally stopping giant robot acquisitions
Cersei is somewhat unaware that her father knows who they are. She is obsessed with working it out herself.
Tyrion has several theories as to the Direwolves, one of which is correct, but his plans coincidentally are not things that superheroes try to prevent — he goes more into legal business, if borderline shady, but never anything immoral. He also rather admires what they do and wouldn’t expose them should he be proven right.
Jaime just doesn’t care what’s behind the mask. He finds Winter frustrating, but sees him for who he is and doesn’t care if his name is Bob or Ned or Jake or whatever.
· The Lannisters do not in fact have a special preoccupation with the Direwolves, who aren’t even the only superheroes they deal with.
· They have similar stances to pretty much all of the superhero/anti-hero groups of Westeros.
Roose Bolton is ‘officially’ considered a superhero
· People are terrified to commit crimes anywhere near the Dreadfort
· Ned can’t even argue that it doesn’t work, because Roose definitely has less to deal with, but still
Occasionally Ramsay joins in, partly to ingratiate himself with his father and partly because he enjoys being able to wield his power over others
· At least Roose only attacks people for muggings or bank robberies or actual crimes
· Ramsay has been known to flay people for jaywalking
While Roose is registered as an anti-hero, Ramsay is a vigilante and has a warrant for his arrest.
· Roose is smart enough not to publicly admit they’re related
· He does chide Ramsay, but in general he doesn’t mind the fact the people of his city don’t so much as litter any more
Ramsay has superspeed, just like Jon
· His supervillain name is Bolt, which frustrates Roose no end because you don’t use versions of your real name if you want it secret.
Aerys Targaryen used to be one of the key villains in Westeros, before he was chased out and died in poverty
· ‘Winter’ didn’t take his sister’s death well, and his former super-hero partner and close friend ‘Stag’ had been equally distraught.
Stag has since been nicknamed Stagger for his alcoholic tendencies
Aerys’s son Viserys is determined to reclaim his family’s fame
Viserys’s plans come to a halt when mob boss Drogo ties him up, duct tapes him to the streetlight across from a police precinct, and pins a note to his shirt detailing all his crimes.
His little sister and former second-in-command (in theory at least, although Viserys didn’t actually give her any power) ends up taking over his villainous army.
· Danaerys has the utterly fairytale-princess ability to talk to animals
· When she ends up with three gigantic monsters fawning over her, this ability is considered a lot more dangerous
She makes her way back to a home she doesn’t remember, but constantly stops to deal out her ruthless version of justice.
· And the thing is, most people agree that it counts as justice.
No-one is quite sure when it happens, but by the time she arrives in Westeros she’s considered a hero
Dany loves it far more than she ever liked the idea of being a villain
She keeps her family’s scary reputation alive, but makes sure to not be part of it
· She doesn’t always succeed
Being raised by villains means that Dany occasionally has moments where she doesn’t realise what seems obvious to traditional heroes, and has more than once murdered criminals in her justice crusade
· The people she murders are always the actual worst, though, not petty crooks like the Boltons slaughter
She toes the line between hero and anti-hero pretty regularly, but never touches villain
She does eventually work out what would secure her place as a good guy and is established as one of Westeros’s most powerful heroes.
Ygritte is a criminal
Jon catches her one day breaking and entering. He arrests her, and asks why.
· She answers very well about broken system and how being born on her side of the Wall town means that she hasn’t got any other opportunities and sometimes she’d like to eat.
· He ends up unlocking the handcuffs and telling her to run.
A few weeks later he’s about to stop a kid getting mugged when Ygritte shows up first and beats up the mugger.
The two keep running into each other, and they quickly learn to like each other.
They develop an alliance
· “I’ll give you information about the particularly vile crime rings I’ve heard of if you make sure it gets broken up.”
Then it turns into a real friendship.
Jon tells her his secret identity, and she never tells a soul
“You know nothing, Ghost.”
“…Jon. My name is Jon Snow.”
Without missing a beat: “You know nothing, Jon Snow.”
They start hanging out together properly and eventually start dating
Jon ends up meeting a lot of Ygritte’s friends
He’d always had a kind of simple black-and-white morality, seeing criminals as unambiguously bad, but now he starts to work out the deep seated causes as to why crime happens.
· He becomes one of the biggest advocates for better systems and against police brutality and the like.
· It frustrates the hell out of Ygritte that just because a superhero starts saying it, people are listening when they’ve been saying it for years and no-one’s cared before
· Then again, people are listening and she’s not one to complain if it works
Ygritte ends up getting her own costume
· She doesn’t use it any more than once every two or so months
· But sometimes it’s nice to run around kicking the shit out of people who objectively deserve it
Robb is amused because now Jon has no right to mock Theon’s criminal tendencies when he met his girlfriend robbing a place.
“There’s a difference between Ygritte and a supervillain, Robb, he builds giant robots out of scrap metal and there’s never even a logical reason to build a giant robot, surely there are other ways to do it.”
As it turns out, that something major the article mentioned that Theon was dreading he’d end up doing? He never does it, and instead ends up just straight up quitting supervillainy.
The event that triggered his surrender involved doing villainous activities near the Dreadfort.
· Ramsay was ecstatic to have a supervillain to play with, since normally he only deals with people who litter.
“One of the Krakens, I see. Strange family that all of you are called Kraken. Perhaps I should choose you a new name for you alone? It’s not like you’ll ever use that supervillain one again.”
Theon eventually succeeds in building a phone out of whatever scraps he can find in the cell.
· Super intelligence does come in handy.
· In this situation, the person you need to call is a hero.
· Robb didn’t even bother with an excuse when he got the call; he just found an empty room and threw himself out the window.
· He arrived at the Dreadfort quickly and ended up dragging Theon back to the Direwolf ‘den’, aka their form of Batcave which is basically a large treehouse that only Sansa could be bothered to decorate.
Theon spends over a week at the Den.
Jon asked if they ought to turn Theon in to the police, because he is a supervillain and a jail cell might be nice and safe.
· He had been waiting for Robb and Theon to admit they knew who each other were but not like this.
Theon reacts in terror because the Bolt would totally check prisons first, superhero aus mean that jails are so easy to break out of anyway.
So they let him stay for a while.
· There had been several moments of “really, Robb?” the first time each Direwolf found him, but they let it pass.
· Sansa had screamed bloody murder, which turned out to be because she was picking up on his emotions instead of being scared of him. She’d been the most vehement that he stayed there after that.
Theon spent the week building them a BatCave level security system, out of a mix of wanting to thank them, wanting some kind of safety, and wanting to build something.
· While he was at the Dreadfort Ramsay hadn’t let him build anything, and the unused superpower was itching beneath his skin.
· A phone out of loose screws and scrap metal had taken some effort, especially with three broken fingers and the constant terror that it would be found, but it wasn’t the buzz of properly building.
Jon had to train himself out of running everywhere, because Theon downright had a panic attack every time a blur darted into a room with him.
Robb offered to only walk as well, as a show of solidarity, but Jon told him not to worry, go ahead and fly.
“I’ve got a secret identity, I can handle not showing my powers inside for a few days, I’ll just go for a run after school.”
Eventually they call Asha to come and get him.
· Theon’s security system came in handy, because she was close to fighting her way into the Den.
· She got herself caught in a solid cage which took the Direwolves some time to work out how to open.
Both Theon and Asha leave the Kraken family business together.
· Theon because he couldn’t take any more
· Asha because her level of paternal respect had dropped to non-existent after she found out where and why Theon had gone.
“Dad why would you send him to rob a bank in the Dreadfort you had to know this would happen! Was a mystic jewel of Qarth really worth that much when you couldn’t be bothered to get it yourself?!”
Since Theon keeps his super-tech-abilities, and has the itch to keep building, he starts to design gadgets that could help out Robb.
· Compasses, tracking handcuffs, protective gear.
· He quickly learns to branch into tech for the rest of the Starks, and basically redoes the whole Den to be high-tech.
· He may or may not end up the Edna Mode of this universe and help superheroes get costumes that actually work really well
· Sansa does the sewing and the actual clothing parts. She loves the opportunity.
“Robb I take back anything bad I ever said about your best friend this is incredible”.
· Cat also occasionally helps out with the sewing and is a bit more muted in her reaction, but is pleased because she and Sansa have been making the costumes forever. She is uncomfortably aware that all they protect is privacy. Armour is good.
Arya goes straight to Theon and asks him not to tell anyone about her secondary ‘No-One’ disguise as he makes her a costume for it. Theon already knew she was No-One and hadn’t even realised it was a secret.
Asha meanwhile decides she can’t be bothered going the long way round for respect anymore, since super-powered genius intellect, common sense, and ruthlessness can be a pretty lethal combo in basically any career she wants.
Jon’s secret identity works well normally, but he does a slight miscalculation.
As a kid he was never allowed to play sports because of his speed (plot points straight from the Incredibles) and he felt left out.
So one day when Pyp asks if he wants to join in their friendly soccer game he’s delighted at the opportunity
But since he’s never had to run while pretending that he doesn’t have super-speed, he doesn’t manage to reign himself in.
He doesn’t realise that he now has a significant number of friends who are well aware that Jon Snow is the Ghost.
After Robb eventually convinces him that yes, he can trust the new outfit that Kraken designed, no it’s not going to turn supervillain-y on him, Pyp absently tells Jon that the new Ghost costume looks better.
Jon is shocked.
“How long have you known?”
“Well, since we saw it on the TV. Honestly making the sigil smaller is much better, with it splayed over your chest it just looked like you were presenting a target for bullets.”
Ygritte is similarly impressed with the new look.
Sam end up cultivating a social network to keep up-to-date with what superheroes are needed where, though, so it all works out.
I’m sorry, there isn’t even a plot to this. A timeline, sure, but not a plot.
Still, I’m pleased with it. Likes are great, reblogs are better, and comments/tags are incredible.
Contrary to what her father thought, Azula mused as she sat on the porch, she didn’t particularly want to kill Zuko to become Fire Lord. That was Plan D.
Oh, she wanted to be Fire Lord as much as ever, and she was confident her father agreed with her ambitions. Ozai acknowledged Zuko as a war hero, but his feelings seemed to be more as if Zuko was an honoured general than his son. No, Azula was the prodigy, the strategist, the natural ruler. For all his skills, Zuzu wasn’t set to rule the Fire Nation.
That didn’t necessarily mean he had to die.
The succession hierarchy was a problem. Due to an irritating quirk of nature, Zuko was firstborn and thus the natural heir. Still, Iroh had been the firstborn, and yet he was disowned.
Plan A was to have Zuko follow in his uncle’s footsteps. He certainly seemed naturally inclined to it, more likely to copy the tea-loving fool than their father. It was entirely possible that he would have a similar embarrassment to the Dragon of the West losing Ba Sing Se: not harsh enough to warrant another banishment, but enough to lose being heir. A disgraced prince, but still a prince. He might even do it without her influence.
On the beach, Zuko and Mai spoke softly, sickeningly close. Mai ran her fingers through Zuko’s hair, which had gotten awfully long. Ty Lee had mentioned that he should have it cut after they got back from Ember Island.
Azula wondered if Zuko might marry Mai someday. Her father would be displeased to have a nonbender brought into the family, but Azula would welcome it. Mai was tolerable to the point that she enjoyed being in her company, and Azula would be happy to call her a sister.
Regardless of who it was, Azula was confident that Zuko would marry. He’d find a wife, and have his own children who would almost certainly inherit the bending gene – they’d be related to royalty, after all.
That fitted into Azula’s vision of the future perfectly. A Fire Lord would be expected to marry and produce heirs, but the thought wasn’t appealing. Azula was willing to marry if the situation required it – she would do her duty – but ideally she’d like to rule alone. Her brother’s children could be named heirs instead, and carry on the bloodline just as surely if she’d had her own.
Plan B was to see him banished again.
The easiest way would be to allow the Avatar to reach the Capitol. Azula knew he was coming, but she thought she’d try Plan A first. That was why when Mai had come to her, asking if she knew any assassins, Azula had happily provided a list of recommendations with the full knowledge of why Zuko wanted one.
After all, her father was a picture of health; Azula had plenty of time to usurp her brother’s birthright. She might as well prevent the Avatar’s arrival.
Azula wasn’t quite sure what it would take to have Zuko banished again. No matter how she teased him, he wasn’t dumb. She doubted he’d make an obvious mistake like he had last time.
But then, she didn’t need to have all the details figured out. She hadn’t even begun to put things in place for her first plan, let alone the second. The comet was only a few weeks away, and she felt that she needed to focus on the upcoming invasion led by the presumed-dead Avatar.
Plan C was to have Zuko flee.
Azula knew exactly how she could accomplish that. All it would take is a few strategic words, a scroll or two that was ‘discovered’ in his quarters, and her brother would be accused of treason.
She thought she might wait until Ozai began to grow frail. Then she could anonymously accuse the prince of poisoning his father in order to take the crown. It wasn’t a realistic lie, but Azula had found that it only needed to be a good story to be believable. Besides, she had plenty of time to work out the details.
Once the rumours started, she could warn him. Tell Zuko to run, like she had the last time Ozai had planned his death. This time she would have evidence, potentially fake, to convince him he needed to go.
He would escape the Fire Nation and disappear into hiding. Knowing Zuzu, he’d go on a dramatic quest to prove his innocence.
Azula thought that if she went with Plan C, after her coronation she’d send for him to come back. Claim to have found evidence of his innocence, possibly pin the blame on whichever enemy at the time she needed to have disposed. If she was already in power, he wouldn’t be able to unseat her, and so Plan A would work. He could live in the palace again and be happy.
And then there was Plan D. Which was, frankly, painless. Azula didn’t have any further details worked out, but she already knew it wasn’t going to hurt. In fact, she seriously considered doing it herself, as the crown prince deserved that dignity.
Unless, of course, it was inconvenient for her to do it personally.
Azula wished to avoid killing her brother for a very simple reason: it was a debt. She remembered being a young child and crawling into her brother’s bed to escape the nightmares; she remembered him quietly lighting her candles when she was unable to manage it in order to spare her the shame; she remembered him getting into a fight with the first boy to ever call her creepy; she remembered long hours when the palace was empty and the only one who was always willing to play was Zuzu.
It was dishonourable to let that debt go unpaid.
Azula understood the laws of honour, but she was less concerned with them then her brother was. Zuzu had been banished during the lessons Azula had learned at her father’s side, that honour was important but not nearly so much as victory. One should only play fair if they were certain to win.
And in the game of becoming Fire Lord, she was certain to win.
Summary: Wolf was in his pack for over ten years before he joined the Rampion. A fic exploring what that might have entailed, the characters of Ze'ev's pack mates, and the relationships bordering on friendships between fifteen highly trained weapons.
Chapter Summary: Ze'ev's second day in the pack involves training, a brawl, and a prayer.
Chapter Two: High Blood Drumming
Beta Eclipse Garson woke Ze’ev out of a night of bad dreams and constant stirrings.
“Come on. You have to be presentable for Master Jael.”
Ze’ev yawned, sitting up. “What time is it?” he asked sleepily.
“Oh-five-twenty.” Eclipse moved back, heading to the bathroom.
Ze’ev got up, shaking out his limbs. They were still stinging from the operation. He hoped breakfast would be soon – the small meat he’d scavenged at lunch and dinner yesterday wasn’t enough.
He joined the steady trickle of people heading to the bathroom. There were five showers available, and despite a minor altercation between Betas Troya and Liu (it was a resounding victory for Gibbous Troya) most of the pack seemed content to wait in line without physical violence. Alpha Brock, of course, was in first. Ze’ev was one of the last. The water was icy and shut off fairly quickly; the familiarity made him ache with homesickness.
Beta Vanya Volkov told Ze’ev which of the boxes in the closet was his, and he tugged on one of the uniforms. Then the pack swarmed out of the barracks, Alpha Brock in the lead.
They took their place in the same area everyone had been standing when Ze’ev arrived. There didn’t seem to be any order to the line, with Alpha Brock and Omega Katona both standing somewhat in the middle. Ze’ev found himself between Betas Garson and Becke.
The pack stood for another few minutes. Ze’ev watched his companions with interest. No-one spoke, but the operatives were at ease.
Then the familiar scent of Jael approached. Everyone stood up straighter, hands neatly behind their backs. Ze’ev mimicked them.
Jael came into view across the training hall. Several other thaumaturges were walking with him. They were all unfamiliar, but their scents surrounded the facility.
After a moment, Jael reached the pack, stopping in front of them. As one, the other thirteen operatives pressed their hand to the chest and chanted out “Master Jael,” with Ze’ev just a second behind.
Jael observed each of the pack, before he smiled. “Good morning,” he said. “I trust you all had an enjoyable sleep?”
There was no answer. Jael didn’t seem to expect one.
“We will start with a run of the obstacle course. A little physical exercise to warm up.”
“Yes, Master Jael,” everyone barked. Ze’ev had instinctively known that was the reply. In a synchronised jog, they all turned and headed to the course.
Beta Rille Baines was sent to the course first. He didn’t hesitate, but ran in at full speed. The first part of the obstacle course was to run a hundred meters on a series of stumps, all of varying sizes, in order to practise difficult terrain. Next, Beta Baines scaled a high pole with only his limbs to pull him up, in order to race across a thin tightrope. Next was a long row of monkey bars, which he then jumped down from onto the ground without a net. Finally, Baines finished with a kilometre-long sprint around the perimeter, going faster than Ze’ev had ever thought possible.
Jael tutted when Beta Baines stopped in front of him, breathing heavily.
“Almost nineteen seconds slower than last time,” Jael said. Baines seemed to wilt under the mild disappointment. “You’ll do better next time, won’t you?”
“Of course, Master Jael.”
“Stand with the others.”
Baines saluted, fist to heart, and then jogged into line.
Omega Katona was next. He was somewhat slower than Beta Baines, almost slipping on the monkey bars. However, he still managed to beat Beta Sherazi’s time a few minutes later, despite the fact that Aziz Sherazi was almost frothing at the mouth to have a go.
Beta Gibbous Troya went next. He obliterated Baines’ time, taking the stumps and monkey bars two at a time. The moment he was done, he winked at Baines teasingly. Baines didn’t react.
“Beta Kesley?” Jael said. Ze’ev straightened. “Care to step up?”
Quite honestly, Ze’ev didn’t care to. However, he had no doubt it wasn’t actually a question.
Ze’ev walked up to the start, crouching down in the same position Beta Baines had used. When Jael clicked, he started off.
The stumps seemed a lot taller and a lot thinner up close. Ze’ev forced himself to sprint at them, clumsily leaping into the air. He landed on the first one awkwardly, but it was a landing.
There was no way he was going to be able to run across the stumps like the others had. Ze’ev moved as quickly as he could, but still had to balance on each one before moving to the next.
After almost two minutes, Ze’ev dropped off the stumps. He darted forwards without trying to catch his breath, and then jumped for the giant pole.
Despite the fact he’d done the course on the day before, Ze’ev was still startled by how easy it was to scale the pole. His arms burned before he finished, but he was stronger than he should have been. The genetic modifications had some more practical advantages than the senses that still left him disorientated.
Within moments Ze’ev stood at the tightrope. He looked at the thin wire spread between the towers, and wondered if he would be allowed to crawl instead of walk.
Part of him wanted to try using his initiative to see if Master Jael would appreciate that, but his ribs still stung from the vicious blow Alpha Brock had given him the last time he disobeyed.
Slowly, Ze’ev stepped out onto the wire. Inch by inch, he crept across.
He was grateful to reach the monkey bars. They were fairly similar to the ones used in Physical Education at his school; in fact, the operatives had better quality ones that weren’t simply loops strung from the rafters. Ze’ev scurried past them, not quite with the grace of Beta Troya, but at least somewhat better than Omega Katona.
Ze’ev faltered when he reached the end. He’d done it before and had watched the others, but he’d forgotten that there was no platform to step onto. It took a few seconds of hanging from the last bar before he could convince himself to drop.
He tried to land on his feet, like the others, but stumbled on landing and fell to his knees. The impact made him shudder, but there didn’t seem to be any damage to his strengthened bones.
Getting up, Ze’ev started forward on the sprint element of the course. It took a while before he was able to regain his balance, but running with the new modifications was more exhilarating than anything else.
Finally, Ze’ev stood in front of Jael, nervously at attention.
Jael wrinkled his nose. “I would hope that you tried this course yesterday. What was your time?”
Ze’ev had no idea. He licked his lips, and slightly shook his head.
“Pitiful,” Jael said. “I expect that you will be able to report on this in future.”
“Yes, Master Jael,” Ze’ev said quietly.
“Well, you’ll be pleased to know that it was a rather average performance for an operative before the modifications have fully settled.” Jael tilted his head to the side, observing Ze’ev. “However, I do not accept ‘average’ from my operatives.”
“Yes, Master Jael. Sorry, Master Jael.” Ze’ev hated the sycophancy in his voice, but he had no other response.
“Do better. Dismissed.”
Ze’ev gratefully re-joined the pack formation. He saw Beta Eclipse Garson give him a smile, and Beta Gibbous Troya nodded approvingly at him.
Jael called Beta Huang Liu up to the course, and Ze’ev turned his attention back to the training.
~
“Enjoying the pack, Beta Kesley?”
Ze’ev turned apprehensively to face the operative who spoke. It was Beta Aziz Sherazi, the small fighter who Eclipse said would often switch between being omega and beta.
“It’s an honour to be in the Queen’s army,” Ze’ev said hesitantly.
Aziz’s lip twitched, clearly knowing the meaning behind the neutral description. Still, he didn’t challenge it.
A couple of the other pack members were looking at the two of them, interested. Beta Troya was heading closer. To Ze’ev’s alarm, Betas Wynn, Rafe, and Lobo weren’t far behind.
“Do you enjoy it?” Ze’ev asked Aziz unsurely, more out of a desire to say something than actual curiosity.
“Like you said. It’s an ‘honour’ to serve the Queen.”
More pack members were heading over, spreading out in a loose circle as if Aziz and Ze’ev were an interesting show. Their expressions creeped Ze’ev out – ranging from Eclipse Garson’s worry, to Alex Rafe’s resignation, to an eager grin by Gibbous Troya.
That was not a good sign.
“Are you getting the hang of how this works?” Aziz asked. The older boy took a step closer.
“A little,” Ze’ev said, moving a step back. He was the same height as Aziz, but less muscular and far less trained.
“And you know about the pack hierarchy?”
“Strongest is alpha, weakest is omega,” Ze’ev recited.
“Good job,” Aziz said, taking another step. Ze’ev glanced behind him to see the edge of the pack circle. There was no more room to retreat. “Do you know how we work out who’s strongest and weakest?”
Ze’ev did, but he really wanted to be wrong. “No?”
There was a chuckle from the pack members around him.
Aziz’s eyes glinted as he took another step closer. He raised a fist. “Allow me to teach-”
Ze’ev struck first. His punch was sloppy and untrained, but it was fast. He hit Aziz hard in the stomach.
Aziz gasped, taking a step backwards, one arm wrapping around his stomach.
It took less than a second for him to begin to recover, but Ze’ev kept moving. He was driven by pure instinct, a brand-new artificially added desire to cause pain. He kicked as hard as he could, hitting Aziz’s knee.
Aziz gave ground again, stumbling. Ze’ev kept moving, and threw another wild punch.
This time, Aziz’s significant experience came in to play. Aziz deftly moved the fist away from him, then brought his other arm around for his own attack.
Ze’ev jumped backwards, dodging the blow by only centimetres. Aziz pressed his advantage, raining down attacks on the new recruit who desperately ducked around every hit.
Somewhat to Ze’ev’s surprise, he was able to keep up. Aziz constantly scored blows, but all of them were glancing. Despite running solely on guesswork and almost no fighting ability, Ze’ev wasn’t badly losing.
There was a reason why Aziz was often omega, Ze’ev realised, and it wasn’t because he was short.
Taking a chance, Ze’ev stepped closer to Aziz around a punch, and jabbed his fingers into his opponent’s side. Aziz gasped in pain, instinctively shying away from Ze’ev’s hand. The moment of poor balance was all Ze’ev needed, and he shoved Aziz as hard as he could in the chest.
Aziz fell backwards, collapsed onto the dirt. He snarled, a guttural, animal sound.
Without thinking about it, Ze’ev growled back.
“Waahoo! Yeah!”
Both looked up abruptly to see Vanya Volkov applauding. “Bravo, newbie!”
Aziz growled at Vanya too, still on the ground.
“Not bad for a first fight,” Gibbous Troya agreed. He started to clap too, less enthusiastically than the exaggerated cheering from Vanya Volkov.
Ze’ev smiled broadly.
Aziz got up, glaring at him. However, the battle seemed to be over, and he didn’t make another move against Ze’ev.
The pack started to move off again, spreading off.
“You did good,” José Lobo said, pausing in front of Ze’ev.
“Thanks.”
“Maybe you won’t go down from the first punch when I fight you,” he added. Seeing Ze’ev’s expression, José grinned. “Don’t worry. I’m not intending on fighting you today. But I promise you, by the end of the month you’ll have fought every single member of the pack.”
“Oh.” The pleasure Ze’ev had gotten from his triumph quickly diminished.
“Just do your best never to be omega, and you’ll be fine,” José advised him, heading off.
Eclipse took his place, a slightly kinder smile on his face. “Even if you do get Omega, it’s not the end of the world. Just bare it and challenge the weaker members as much as possible until you move up again.”
Ze’ev licked his lips. He was starting to get used to navigating his new teeth. “Thanks,” he said. He knew (or at least strongly suspected) that Eclipse was trying to cheer him up, but it didn’t work.
The rush from beating Aziz, at least to the point where the other pack members had considered him the winner, was starting to fade. Ze’ev was starting to feel sick, remembering that savage desire to beat him.
What had those operations turned him into?
~
The second day went much the same as the first.
After his fight with Beta Sherazi, Ze’ev did his best to stay out of everyone’s way. He thought the others knew what he was doing, but other than a derisive snort from Alpha Brock no-one seemed to care.
Instead, he tried to get a better understanding of the fights, but it seemed useless. Battles broke out over the smallest of things: Vanya Volkov and José Lobo got into a fight after lunch for retaliation for one or the other punching the other for a piece of steak; Gibbous Troya challenged Alpha Crater Brock for the title of alpha (Gibbous put up a reasonable fight, but Brock won decisively); Huang Liu and Aziz Sherazi fought for no discernible reason.
At the end of the day, Ze’ev returned to the barracks, grateful to be able to stop thinking for a few hours. The howling and bragging of the pack seemed quieter, everyone ready for bed.
He pulled on his pyjamas, finding that his dirty clothes from the day before had already been washed. He climbed into bed a few moments before Alpha Brock hit the light switch.
The voices quietened, conversations petering out.
It took a moment for Ze’ev to realise that Eclipse Garson was still talking. His hearing pricked up before he was conscious of doing it.
“—By Kingdom come Your will be done, on Earth and Luna as it is in Heaven. Give us today our daily bread, and forgive us our sins now, as we forgive those who sin against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Glory be Your name, forever and ever. Amen.”
Ze’ev sat up curiously. His own family had never been particularly religious, and all he really knew about religion mostly came from holos. He tried to focus on the older boy kneeling in front of his bed.
“Thank You for this time, and thank You that we all survived this day. I’m sorry that I sinned today. Please help me learn to love others as You loved us. Please help me to forgive everyone, even the thaumaturges and the Queen. I know that this is all part of Your will. Please help me to have the faith to follow You, no matter what. In the name of the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit, Amen.”
Eclipse climbed into bed.
Ze’ev looked around. No-one else had even reacted to the prayer. It must have been a pretty common event.
Ze’ev wasn’t quite sure about the details of the religion; he wasn’t entirely sure which religion it was (he thought maybe Christianity, not that he’d know the difference between the types). Still, the idea that Someone other than the Queen held his fate was comforting: especially if that Someone had another plan than Ze’ev becoming a monster.
Tucking himself back under the covers, Ze’ev drifted into sleep.
Hungry Like The Wolf (A Lunar Chronicles Fanfiction)
Summary: Wolf was in his pack for over ten years before he joined the rampion. A fic exploring what that might have entailed, the characters of Ze’ev’s pack mates, and the relationships bordering on friendships between fifteen highly trained weapons.
(Will be 15-20 chapters, hopefully will be finished before Wires and Nerves comes out, and any kind of comment/review/critique (tags, body, PM, you name it I will love it) will be very much appreciated).
AO3 - Hungry Like The Wolf
Fanfiction.Net - Hungry Like The Wolf
Chapter One: Lost In A Crowd
Still woozy from the vicious kick Alpha Brock had delivered to his ribs, Ze’ev stumbled into line. The lunar soldiers, other than Brock, didn’t glance at him. They stared rigidly ahead, fists clenched to their hearts.
“You will soon learn that your placement in this pack is determined by strength, courage, and the ability to defend yourself,” Master Jael said, his eyes on Ze’ev. “You will not see such mercy again.”
Ze’ev averted his gaze, hoping that was what the thaumaturge wanted. Focused on a spot over Jael’s shoulder, he nodded once. He felt that he needed to do more and copied the gesture the other pack members used, placing a hand over his heart. Judging from the half smile Jael wore, it was an acceptable reaction.
“I trust you will teach your new brother how we train here,” Jael said lightly.
“Yes, sir.” The cry was unanimous throughout the pack.
“Good. I will leave you to become acquainted. Training commences at oh-six-hundred tomorrow.” Without another word Jael turned on his heel and walked off.
Ze’ev stayed at attention, his eyes flicking to the side to see if any of the others were moving. He noticed that no-one broke from their position until Brock did – who didn’t shift until the scent (and Ze’ev was still shocked that he was able to smell distance) of Jael disappeared.
Then, continuing to follow the alpha’s lead, everyone started crowding around Ze’ev.
“So. Teach you,” Brock growled. He bent over slightly to look closer at Ze’ev, his face inches away from Z’s. “Lesson number one is to always obey Master Jael. If Jael’s not here, then you listen to me, got it?”
Ze’ev swallowed, and then nodded. The stinging in his ribs seemed to intensify. “Got it.”
“Good,” Brock stepped back.
“Welcome to the pack, Beta Kesley,” one of the other pack members said cheerfully. He grinned. Ze’ev hoped it was just the tooth implants that made it look menacing. “Being here doesn’t get any better.”
“Lobo, hush,” another operative said dismissively. “It won’t take long for him to know the basic rules.”
“Maybe we should start with the names, Beta Tsukino?” said a third operative. He folded his arms. “I’m Beta Gibbous Troya. This is Beta Masaru Tsukino, Beta Vanya Volkov, Beta Alex Rafe, Beta José Lobo, Beta Tristan Wynn, Beta Eclipse Garson, Beta Wane Becke, Beta Huang Liu, Beta Rille Baines, Beta Emil Katona, and Omega Aziz Sherazi. And you’ve already met Alpha Crater Brock.”
The names blurred together. Ze’ev blinked, trying to remember any of them, let alone to whom each name belonged.
“Beta Aziz Sherazi,” the smallest boy in the pack snapped furiously. He was at least an inch shorter than Ze’ev although he looked to be at least fourteen. “It’s Omega Katona.”
“Oh?” Gibbous Troya asked, almost bored. “When did that happen?”
“About two hours ago,” one of the other members said. Ze’ev tried to remember his name but couldn’t. “It wasn’t one of their more interesting fights.”
“Still, two weeks as a beta is probably Emil’s record, isn’t it?” Someone (Vanya something, Ze’ev thought) asked. He clapped another pack member (Katona?) on the shoulder. “Congratulations.”
The operative growled, shifting slightly to free his shoulder. Vanya shrugged.
“Katona and Sherazi are always switching who’s Omega,” another operative quietly informed Ze’ev.
“What’s Omega?” Ze’ev asked him, dropping his voice to a whisper.
Apparently he wasn’t quiet enough. Everyone glanced at him, and there were a couple of derisive snorts from the pack.
The operative Ze’ev was talking to didn’t change expression, but kept smiling kindly. “Omega is the opposite of Alpha. Bottom status.”
“You have to fight for your place around here,” the Beta that Ze’ev thought was José Lobo said. “Lesson number three is avoid being Omega. They’re the weakest.” Lobo smirked at Omega Katona, who bristled but held back.
Alpha Brock grunted. “Whatever. We should start training.” He glanced at Ze’ev. “After all, we need our newest member to be up to scratch before Jael comes back.”
Ze’ev hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he would be safest to obediently follow or not. Defiance seemed foolish, but there was a new instinct twisting his stomach, refusing to let him grovel.
After a moment Ze’ev lifted his head higher, meeting Brock’s gaze. “Okay,” he said, straight backed and trying not to let his voice waver. “Where do I start?”
He was delighted to notice Brock’s smirk turned into a slight smile.
~
He was cold, he was hungry, he was exhausted, and he was almost certain Brock had broken one of his ribs. Still, Ze’ev refused to complain as Brock led the pack through the training course.
They climbed monkey bars, sprinted along tracks, and mutilated punching bags. Despite his best efforts, Ze’ev constantly fell behind. Everyone else was stronger, faster, and quite simply knew what they were doing. Nevertheless, Ze’ev kept going.
Finally, finally, Brock called a halt. Ze’ev sunk to the ground, gasping for air.
He was discouraged to notice that everyone else seemed fine. Several of the pack were breathing heavily, but most were simply relaxing. Alpha Brock didn’t seem to have even broken a sweat.
“Doing okay?” The relatively-kind operative that had explained about omegas asked, crouching next to him. Ze’ev guessed him to be about thirteen or fourteen years old, not too much older than him.
“I’m… I’m fine,” Ze’ev panted, despite his genuine fear he might cough out a lung.
“You did pretty well for your first time,” the beta said. “Don’t worry. It’ll get easier by the time we start doing the hard stuff.”
“The what stuff?”
“Half of the modifications won’t be noticeable for another few weeks,” the operative continued. “Once your body catches up to the science you’ll be better at this.”
Ze’ev was dreading more of the wolfish abilities to come up, turning him into more of a soldier and less of a boy. Still, he wouldn’t have mentioned it even if he had enough breath to do so.
It was encouraging that the other operatives looked mostly human. Other than deadly sharp teeth, Ze’ev couldn’t pick out anything that was too close to the monsters he’d seen on the hologram. He had noticed changes to his own body, but changes didn’t mean inhuman.
“I’m Eclipse.” The operative held out a hand. “Beta Eclipse Garson.”
“Ze’ev Kesley.” Ze’ev took the hand and allowed himself to be helped up.
“Nice to meet you, Beta Kesley.” Eclipse shook the hand he was still holding, and then dropped it abruptly. His nose twitched.
The other pack members were all getting up, looking around eagerly. Betas Sherazi and Troya were both sniffing the air. Ze’ev copied them, trying to tell what they were all sensing.
Meat. Blood. Something that made his stomach claw.
There was a gentle ding noise as a bell rang. And suddenly the training area was a stampede as five hundred lupine operatives raced for the dining hall.
Ze’ev stumbled backwards. His hunger forgotten, the new soldier desperately prioritised not getting crushed in the rush to get food.
An arm reached out and wrapped around his shoulder, tugging him against someone’s body. Ze’ev didn’t resist, pressing himself away from the crowd.
Within moments the training grounds were clear. Ze’ev pulled himself away from Beta Vanya Volkov.
“Thanks,” Ze’ev muttered.
“Don’t mention it,” Vanya said flippantly. “The surgeries are expensive – Jael would be furious if we got you trampled on the first day.”
“Is it always like this?” Ze’ev asked him.
“Well, everyone’s always hungry around here.” Vanya grinned at him. “Come on, let’s go before all the good food is taken.”
Vanya started off at a light jog. Ze’ev followed him.
He was just beginning to think that being a part of the Queen’s special army might not be a complete tragedy when he walked into the dining hall.
The noise was deafening. The hall itself must have been soundproofed, as the voices he’d heard did not prepare him for the cacophony of boasts, threats, and howls that assaulted him the moment he walked in. Tables upon tables were filled with operatives, each snatching for the choicest pieces of meat available. Ze’ev could see no less than a dozen physical brawls throughout the building. The taste of blood and sweat filled the air, and Ze’ev didn’t understand his new senses well enough to recognise how much of the blood was from the meal.
Beta Vanya Volkov was unfazed, heading through the mayhem easily. Ze’ev hurried to follow him, sidestepping a fistfight of two operatives from another pack.
The two found the table headed by Alpha Brock easily. Ze’ev watched in terror as Beta Gibbous Troya lunged for the meat in front of Alpha Brock. Brock threw his challenger onto the ground, a solid left hook thudding into the beta’s stomach. With a growl that was almost inaudible amongst the rest of the chaos, Troya leapt back against the alpha.
Ze’ev glanced around desperately, and saw Vanya had gone straight for a piece of meat in the middle of the table. Beta Becke had been reaching for the same piece, but when he saw Vanya reaching Beta Becke chose another steak.
Beta Aziz Sherazi had climbed entirely onto the table. His nose was bleeding heavily, but he still kept moving for a good quality piece of meat. Meanwhile, Beta Wynn had already thrown Beta Baines over the table entirely. Baines got up off the floor with a wince, holding his arm tight to his body.
Ze’ev quietly took a seat at the end of the table. He was relieved to note that not everyone had gotten involved in the free-for-all: Eclipse Garson was scavenging whatever he could get without resorting to violence, Beta Becke was calmly and methodically picking at anything left behind, and Omega Katona had seated himself as far away from the bloodbath as he could.
Snatching a small piece of meat that was passed over by Beta Huang Liu (or at least, Ze’ev was fairly sure that was his name), Ze’ev gnawed on his tiny meal and tried not to think about what the rest of his future would hold.
~
The barracks were hardly luxurious, and the moment the pack stepped inside Ze’ev picked up on the metallic scent of blood that he was alarmingly familiar with. However, the rooms were at least somewhat soundproofed, and the reduction from five hundred to thirteen voices gave his overstimulated hearing a rest.
There were fifteen beds across the room in two rows, seven beds above and eight below. A small series of closets were against the back wall, and a door led off to a communal bathroom.
Beta Gibbous Troya headed over to Ze’ev as soon as the new member walked inside.
“We’ve got two beds spare,” Gibbous said calmly, pointing out one top bunk and another bottom bunk across the room. “If you don’t want either of those, you’re welcome to fight someone for theirs.”
“Seriously?” The question came out a little higher than Ze’ev had intended.
“Well, yeah.”
“I wouldn’t bother,” Beta José Lobo advised him. José was lying on his bed, rolled over to watch the recruit. “They’re all the same. Top bunks are just a pain to climb onto after a bad day, and bottom bunks mean you can get stepped on. The only one whose got a better bed is Alpha Brock.”
José pointed at the bed nearest the door. It was the eighth bed across the bottom row, without one directly above. Brock was sitting on it, watching the conversation with a cocky smirk.
“And no offense newbie,” Lobo added, “but he’s alpha for a reason. You’re not going to beat him, and definitely not on your first night.”
Ze’ev nodded weakly. He chose the empty bottom bunk that Gibbous had suggested. It was underneath Beta Baines, who barely glanced over as Ze’ev sat.
“I think they might have got you some clothes,” Beta Eclipse Garson said, heading over to the closets. There were fifteen boxes set in the walls, along with a space for formal uniforms to hang and a shoe closet.
Eclipse tugged out one of the boxes and checked the label. “Yep, they did. Here.” He tossed over the sleepwear included. Ze’ev caught them with a mumbled thanks.
All around him, the other pack members were stripping off their dirty clothes, stained from the day. Beta Gibbous Troya was somewhat reluctant, ducking into the bathroom to get changed. No-one else seemed modest.
Ze’ev tried not to stare at the scars that spread across each of them. Some wounds were new, bright purple bruises that had swelled up in the past few hours, and others were year old scars that had faded as much as they ever would.
The filthy clothes were all tossed into a small basket. Ze’ev copied them, changing into the unfamiliar pyjamas, and then crawled into his new bed.
Alpha Brock turned the light off. The noise drastically reduced, but Ze’ev could still hear everything.
Someone that he thought might be Beta Wynn was already asleep. Ze’ev knew that the heavy breathing came from the top bunk, third on the right, and from the smell alone he could tell that it was the operative with red hair: he wasn’t sure that his name was Wynn.
Likewise, Ze’ev wasn’t entirely sure if the person who let out a soft whimper with every breath was Beta Becke or Beta Rafe, but he knew it was the boy not too much older than him who had gotten into a fight with the big Beta Tsukino.
Eclipse Garson was talking quietly. Ze’ev could see the other boy kneeling before his bed as he murmured something that Z couldn’t quite pick out amongst all the sounds.
Ze’ev rolled over, not enjoying the noise. Ran probably wasn’t any quieter than the new roommates, but even without the bigger numbers, back then Ze’ev couldn’t hear every breath in the room.
He’d also been able to sense his brother’s bioelectricity. Sometimes he could even pick up on where in the house his parents were. Every other sense had moved from telling him there were roommates to screaming it at him, but his Lunar gift was a blank slate. It felt almost like the other operatives weren’t real. Ze’ev wondered if this was what it was like to meet a shell.
It had been over a month since he’d shared his room with Ran; Ze’ev had been unconscious for most of that time and it felt like only a few nights. He’d been gone for minutes and it had been an eternity.
Every part of his body stung, from the rigorous exercise to Brock’s beating to the surgeries he’d woken up from hours ago.
So I have a Lunar Chronicles fanfiction I’d like to write. It’s basically about Wolf, and what the pack was like.
I really love the concept of the wolf packs, and I want to delve more into the characters. It’d involve a couple of OCs, what with there being fifteen members of Ze’ev’s pack and only six named (and Brock, Troya, Rafe, and Wynn didn’t have first names). I also wanted to explore the idea that Ze’ev wasn’t unique in that his sole purpose in life wasn’t to maim, that maybe one or two of his packmates hated the taste of blood too.
I want Ze’ev to have, not friends exactly, but a relationship with the pack that isn’t a continual cycle of beating up each other for status. Both wolves and humans are social creatures, after all, and although the pack might not have been close, they were together. Surely some kind of bond was formed. Maybe even ‘okay we beat you up regularly but you’re in our pack and no-one else gets to hit you’. Which I acknowledge is not healthy, but the packs were never meant to be healthy.
I don’t know. I’m just really interested in the wolf packs, and the relationships between members.
(Although writing a male-only cast is a little out of my comfort zone, but that’s an easy enough fix so one of them is going to be a trans girl).
It’d be about twenty chapters, which is what I’ve got the ideas for. I’d have to get it done before Wires and Nerve comes out, because as much as I’m looking forward to it, I think more canon information on the packs will derail quite a few ideas of what I have.
In The Lunar Chronicles, how the wolf pack needed an alpha was interesting. Because actual wolves don’t – the ‘alpha male’ is basically the father. It’s a family, and the family might have a head but there’s rarely a violent fight for the title. Generally when the wolf pups grow up they simply go out and make their own packs rather than take over the one they’re in. I think; I’m not an expert.
This never really bothered me when reading the books, because I always thought that it was a more interesting story to have the super-soldiers fight for dominance. I took it as a mixture of creative license and the fact that real wolves can’t talk so the operatives clearly had their own rules.
But the thing is — the reason people thought wolves have alphas? That’s what happens to them in captivity. You take ten wolves, lock them in a room together, and they will group together for survival but will establish their own hierarchy.
The Lunar Chronicles wolf packs are not there of their own free will. They’re a group of ‘wolves’ who are forced together and that’s why they established their hierarchy.
Due to a combination of the radio turning on unexpected loud and Officer Murray’s awkward guilt of the previous Halloween’s events, Jackson Jekyll is the only person in New Salem to have gotten out of a driving fine with the excuse “My alter-ego did it”.
Okay, so in tribute to my recent delve into Monster High territory, I would like to suggest a headcannon regarding Jackson, Holt, and holidays.
After all, they share their birthday, and things like Christmas are a certain date.
Now, I imagine the two probably did agree to share the holidays. Maybe they deliberately split them up like when they were children – Jackson is awake during the day, which involves every holiday tradition, and then turning on the music when the sun goes down. At that point, Holt gets to have some turkey and open his presents.
The thing that interests me is that their mother is every bit a Jekyll/Hyde as they are. And presumably both sides of her want to spend time with each son. So Jekyll!Mum wants to have Christmas with Jackson and Holt – and then Hyde!Mum would want to bond with both of her sons too, who can’t be in the same place at the same time. They’d probably have to have a roster so that each possible combination of Jekyll and Hyde get to celebrate together.
I guess my point is that their fire elemental father has to do Christmas four times in a day.
Headcannon that in Disney’s Descendants, Evie’s father is Gaston. Her mother is the (second) fairest of them all. To quote the hunter, “After all it’s only she, who’s as beautiful as me!” Not only is Gaston likely to be interested, the Evil Queen would probably reciprocate – she’s a sucker for flattery. Without her previous power, I can imagine that she’d be somewhat open to someone like Gaston. Additionally, it’s implied on the Isle of the Lost the worse the villain, the more they’re respected. The Evil Queen was a queen, and is still powerful. Gaston might be a peasant, but he also nearly killed the Beast, which I’d say gains quite a few points considering who set up the Isle.
On a less substantiated note, I’d like to believe that Jay and Mal are actually half-siblings. I’m not sure who Jay’s mother would be, but I feel like Mal’s father is Jafar. He’s technically a genie, she’s a fairy, and they’re both pretty powerful villains.
You know, one thing about Deltora Quest that I realised as a kid, and after rereading the series came to the conclusion again, is that Marilen is not Lief’s heir.
After all, the line that Lief traced back went to Adin’s second son, and then to their Toran descendants.
But in The Sister of the South (and Tales of Deltora) it’s revealed that at least one of the kings had a younger sibling. That would have meant another child descended from Adin’s first son.
Assuming that Prince Ballum and King Elstred were the only generation of royalty that were siblings, that means that Ballum’s descendants were closer to the throne than Marilen. And we know for a fact that Ballum had children. So technically, Bede of the Masked Ones is the heir to Deltora, after Lief.
And the scary thing is that it makes total sense in-story for this to be overlooked. King Elstred’s chief advisor Agra probably removed any historical reference to Prince Ballum. (I’d like to further point out that Jarred and Endon are explicitly stated to not be aware of this trick until after they fall for it themselves).
The record might not have been totally erased, explaining why Steven was aware of Ballum’s origins (for all we know Steven found out from the bees), but the palace records would have been.
And there is a very good reason why references to Ballum of the Masked Ones was hidden. The Shadow Lord would have found it very convenient if, should the primary line be destroyed, someone went looking for the heir of Adin in Tora. The Shadow Lord would have been pleased if someone like Marilen was found - for all that she would have been a decent queen, the belt would not have shone.
Not to mention, we have no proof that Ballum was the only royal sibling, other than what Lief said (which was proven to be mistaken). This could have happened a dozen times over, with heirs and cousins throughout the country or even further.
All I can say it’s a good thing the land never resorted to coronating Marilen.
You know, one thing about The Lunar Chronicles that isn’t mentioned enough is that Sybil must have been at least a little scared of Cress.
After all, the reason for Cress’s hair resembling Rapunzle’s was that Sybil didn’t bring sharp objects on board.
It’s not likely this was to prevent Cress from committing suicide. If you want to keep your prized pet hacker from killing herself, don’t make execution a viable option. Even if Sybil never considered that Cress would sympathise/romanticise Earthens, Cress could have committed treason as a morbid way of escaping her satellite.
So that suggests the lack of sharp objects was self-preservation. Which makes perfect sense.
Sybil was a thaumaturge. She was incredibly powerful and would be able to defend herself from anyone but a shell. So when there was actual risk of a shell attacking her, Sybil wouldn’t be able to do anything.
Of course, Cress was tiny and has no fighting experience. But Sybil likely has no combat experience either, and if Cress had gotten her hands on a pair of scissors or something, the fight would have swung in her favour. With a little bit of luck, Cress might have managed to stab Sybil before she could call Jacin in for back up.
It obviously wasn’t very likely, and Sybil didn’t think Cress was a significant threat. After all, all she did was prevent her from getting a weapon. She didn’t have a platoon of guards accompany her on every trip, and didn’t even require Jacin to follow her in.
But at least a tiny little part of Sybil was scared of her captive hacker, enough for her to prevent her from getting anything that might let her win in a fight.
