Prank's Writing Blog

Sideblog for stuff relating to my writing (which is basically just fanfic rn)

[prankdoeswriting]

Pinned Post Stuff

My Fic Carrd

NekoPrankster218's Fic Info

A carrd containing news on fanfic projects and progress.

[prankdoeswriting]

going to try and apply extra pressure to myself to finish this Charbilot oneshot (and the later Milfer oneshot) by posting highlights of each day's progress so here we go:

"There's... Something else has arrived. It showed up while we were in the Repository. So far, the Banished are talking as if it's hostile to them, but..." "The enemy of my enemy isn't always my friend," John said, with experience.

-

Looking up, they saw Phantoms, but- "Since when were the Banished a fan of orange?" the Weapon asked. "Not their favorite color," John said as he relaxed at the sight. "But I know whose is."

-

"Wait, you know friendly aliens?" Even as just a voice at the moment, John could hear the gawking in the Weapon's tone. "There are friendly aliens?"

[prankdoeswriting]

almost forgot to do it for last night:

"We're working on it," John said. "I... only just got here the other day." One of Thel's eye ridges raised - almost covered up by his helmet, but John had gotten too used at checking for those little details on his face. "Only the other day? When you left for the ring last year?" "I was the last one to touch ground by... a lot." He shrugged. "Not my best descent time."

-

"A pilot that's been working with me - he's been taken by the Banished into that place your men are headed to, the House of Reckoning. I have to get him back. He's not yet dead, but... They're torturing him. They're broadcasting it." Because of me. Because they want me and know how to get to me.

-

The details weren't truly important - not yet. For now, the story was clear and simple. Chief was anxious. He was desperate. Longing. All of those tough emotions - tough for anyone, but especially a Spartan - needed to be resolved, however slowly and bit-by-bit it took. And Thel would help with that, because that is what he is meant to do for John.

-

It was a bitter pill to swallow that these men were the ones that'd brought a fleet to Cortana's doorstep, while Thel was still stuck in fevered council meetings with his peers about how surrender to Cortana - no matter how sweet the deal - was unacceptable.

-

Truly, Chieftain Lydus was winning the contest of Thel's favorite Jiralhanae, even during the times that he barely heard news of the man.

[prankdoeswriting]

finally decided to drop everything else and just focus on this until it's finished; tonight was meant to just be a re-read of everything written so far, but I ended up writing a significant new amount

the theme of this section of the fic has been "Thel reacting to Halo Infinite" and "Thel being sick of Banished theatrics"

Although Thel knew part of what Escharum hoped to achieve here - a glorious battle to the death with the Master Chief to end his saga - the rest eluded him. Surely he knew that all the waves of soldiers he sent would be slaughtered? Was his ego starting to go rancid as death decayed him? Had he decided that the Banished should die along with him, or did he truly believe the Banished would survive after all the sacrifices he fed the Chief? Because surely he wouldn't risk his legendary ending if he truly thought any of these foot soldiers stood a chance.

-

Having grown accustomed to tuning out the War Chief's loudspeaker taunts during combat, Thel had almost missed that one.

-

The Chief was usually disappointed whenever he admitted failure; deep down, his own ego and pride in himself was there, just like Thel and the Banished leadership.

-

The most frustrating part about the Banished's brutality and psychopathy was how successful they were at it. It didn't matter how wrong Thel thought their philosophy was if they might just win the philosophical war by virtue of dominating the literal.

-

"The end approaches... But first... A last surprise." Rest your voice, you old fool, Thel shouted in his head. Or at least get on with it. Truly, all the showboating was proof enough that the old Jiralhanae was dying.

-

But perhaps he wasn't alone, as a grainy woman's voice sounded from inside the structure - "And can you say, 'I can't wait to see you again'?" - followed shortly by a child's "Hi!" They both shared a glance with each other - the first time these strange tauntings had gotten to them, because just what in hells was this going to be about? - before entering the structure.

-

Red slash marks burned into the ground, making Thel wish he had stuck to a gun just so he could reveal the invisible trickster sooner. Instead, the theatrics continued to play out as thuds sounded all around - somehow, the ceiling included.

[prankdoeswriting]

what I'm discovering is that it's impossible for me to write anything with a Thel POV that doesn't become a Thel Character Study, even about topics that have nothing to do with the main plot of the fic

a better writer than me would probably cut it and rewrite different connective tissue, but given its unlikely I'd write "Thel in Halo Infinite" in any other context, I will allow it to stay as extra calories

The shining example of what Sangheili medical practice could be was attached to an unhinged killer. Atriox had beaten him. Escharum had, too, by proving that Sangheili and Jiralhanae could overcome their bloody feud. Somehow, the Banished were proving more progressive. Except for the one place where it mattered most to Thel. They had abandoned every tradition except the tradition of war. That's where the bitterness truly settled at the back of Thel's throat: that what he envisioned could benefit the Sangheili and improve their lives was instead being propped up to help their potential destroyers.  And a little bit, the irony of it all.

-

He didn't seem to care as much for Thel's presence as he did the Master Chief's. Whether it was because this trap was first and foremost designed for the Chief, that the blademaster wanted to ensure the glory of killed him before setting aside time for the Arbiter, or something personal that Thel didn't know, the blademaster would do his best to avoid damage from Thel and sneak away to harass the Chief.

-

Disgusting. Absolutely depraved. And yet, simultaneously the minds that saw some of Thel's goals realized before he had, and somehow for motivations running completely counter to Thel's own. Gods - he wanted to see the galaxy get better, to realize the potential he saw in its peoples, and yet some days he really hated it. He would not let that rage lead to destruction like Atriox and Escharum had, but neither could he ignore its presence. So for today, he would live like a Spartan would: focus on the mission. Save the pilot. Stop the Banished's plans. Everything else could wait. Thel had to admit the comfort in such a way of thinking. No wonder John might never kill the habit.

[prankdoeswriting]

been a long time, oof. I had a bad April writing-wise. hoping the time apart didn't tank my ability.

"Leave me. Run!" the pilot urged. Foolish. Both of them. The Master Chief has already been set on his path. Only death can stop it now. And Spartans never die.

-

"No... you will try," Escharum continued. Thel looked around, trying to gauge the direction it was coming from, but the Banished warlord was making good use of the acoustics in the room. "Chief? He's here," came the AI, proving just how young and naive she was. Even Escharum clocked how useless of a warning it was in the next moment.

-

With his task in mind, Thel was prepared to lose all attention on Escharum, although he did register a thump as Escharum landed from high above (ah, clever, that's where he was) as well as some classic battle roars in between his incessant yapping.

-

"The Weapon-!" the pilot coughed, and at first Thel was concerned he had overlooked something. But as the pilot continued to squirm in Thel's arms, reaching out towards the destroyed torture device, something clicked. "She will be fine," Thel assured, his grip tightening on the weaker human. "You will be, too, but only if we leave here immediately." "Who are...?" His body started to go limp from a combination of sapped strength and realization of futility. Hauling the human over his shoulder, he answered, "A friend. Friend of a friend, I should say." "His...? The Chief...!" "He will be fine. I suspect Escharum is already aware his own time has come. Now stop struggling and let me help you."

-

"This is so weird..." he heard the pilot mumble. Before Thel could apologize, but insist on the safety measures, the man continued, "I came in dragged by the neck by an alien, now I'm coming out cradled by one..." "Hm. Yes, you must have had quite the day."

-

"A friend of a friend," he interrupted. "I know you said that, but... Really? With the Master Chief?" If he knew the entirety of who I am, he would show even further doubt.

-

Briefly, Thel wondered about that. If the pilot was with the UNSC, then surely he should have at least a little knowledge of the Swords of Sanghelios? Of the Arbiter? What did it imply that he seemed not to? That pilots were considered lower soldiers, not worthy of feel educational training? That this one did not pay attention in his classes? Surely not that the UNSC cared little about informing their forces about allied aliens. No, such a lax policy could not be possible with the Infinity. Besides the trust he had in its prominent crew members, it was almost impossible. Thel had stationed some of his warriors on the ship, to aid the UNSC and foster their alliance. Even if the ship was massive enough that the pilot never laid eyes on them, he must've at least heard of their presence. Unless... there was something about the pilot himself...?

-

Those were the main reasons he chose, but... He had to admit that, just a little bit, he didn't want to stray too far from the Chief's battle. He was so certain it'd be victorious, but neither did he want to be left in anticipation for too long. Chief had already kept him waiting for so many years.

-

"We are and have been a lot of things." His fingers pressed on all the points he knew humans were most delicate at, checking for signs of internal wounds or serious external injury. For the human's sake, he forwent anything that required looking under clothes. "'Friend' is not the best word in either of our languages. But I figured it would be the easiest to get across my point that I am here to help you, because he wanted to help you."

-

But Thel 'Vadam does not kiss and tell, nor spill secrets not his own.

-

Several minutes passed, but some hope came when the elevator was suddenly summoned upwards. The battle was over. In just a bit longer, the victor would reveal himself, and the two would have to go from there. "Do you think...?" the pilot started to ask, but Thel hushed him. "Were it so easy."

[prankdoeswriting]

forgot to do it for last session, so you get two session's worth

(as for the progress of the WIP in general, I'm in the second half now. the file is almost 16k words, but at most 5k of those words are outlines, archiving scraps, and jotting down fragments for the A/N. idk specific word count as the program I do my first drafts in doesn't measure highlighted sections like Google Docs)

"You referred to this as 'this last mission'," Thel finally said. "Although I believe the Banished would disagree with that phrasing, I insist you take a break once the Harbinger is defeated. You and the UNSC have held out well against the Banished. But now Swords of Sanghelios are here. You can afford some rest while we take advantage of the opportunities you created." While the Chief regarded him, Thel added, "I especially insist you take that time to come back to my ship, so we can discuss matters." The era of bottling feelings up and hoping to just get through them was over. Thel was not in this relationship to stay stuck on the side lines. That wasn't how this worked. After being granted a bit more time to think, John ultimately nodded his head and answered simply, "Deal," before beginning the march back to the outside world. Thel watched his back for a few beats, only to be interrupted by the pilot coming up next to him. "I thought only the UNSC had that kind of power over him," Echo-216 remarked, still recovering from some apparent shock. "He has never listened to a UNSC order to rest in his entire life," Thel snorted. Then he let the pilot's words sink in a bit more and added, "Power over him... I would not say I feel such a thing from my perspective, but I suppose I can understand how it looks from an outside one." I have had much work to do, Thel continued, keeping the rest of his musing private. And if I did not initiate that work, I doubt he ever would feel motivated to do so on his own terms. But I suppose that was half the reason I propositioned him in the first place. So deep in his musing that Thel almost missed one final murmur from Echo-216: "...What's that supposed to mean?"

-

Pretending he didn't hear in the first place, Thel started a slow walk to follow the Chief. He continued that pace even after he heard footsteps from behind, as he had made a deal to watch over this man and ensure no further harm came upon him. Still, he would give Echo-216 enough distance to not make it so obvious that he was being babysat. Not like Thel understood what was so bad about being in the care of an Arbiter and Kaidon, that human men kept shying away towards further strife, but he wasn't going to risk Echo-216 becoming as difficult as a certain other in that department.

-

Esparza dropped them off, then spent some time in hiding near the area. Because, as he pointed out to the Arbiter when pressed, the Chief didn't specify when their role in the mission would be over. A pilot would still be needed to bring the Chief back to the ship. To his credit, the Arbiter accepted that before Esparza could bring out every argument he packaged in his back pocket.

-

Neither was there any sign of the Weapon anywhere - at least, not any sign that an average guy like him could pick up. But surely someone clever like the Weapon would already know that and find some way to make herself obvious, so…

-

Esparza mulled that point over for a moment. "They wouldn't just leave us out to dry like that, right? Not without trying to leave a message?" "You would be surprised." The Arbiter's mandibles clacked quickly, bringing to mind a human clearing their throat with how quickly he pivoted to saying, "Perhaps not on purpose have they ended up elsewhere. Regardless of what is going on, we cannot rely on staying hidden from the Banished forever, and neither can you push yourself further without medical attention. If he continues to be missing by the time your health is cleared, I promise you will be allowed a part in the search."

-

"I thought you told Chief-" "I remember his exact words well. 'And if I can't, and you notice something is happening.' Do you notice anything amiss to suggest the Silent Auditorium and this unseen Harbinger has become a threat?" "No..."

-

The Arbiter didn't say it, but Esparza knew he had also already proven that point - that no matter how much of a passage of time, the Chief could be found in the strangest of places. If anything, that pattern was improving since his worst disappearance at the war's end.

-

A snort came out of the Arbiter before Esparza was even done speaking, but before he could additionally comment on it, the Arbiter replied, "I will accept that deal, too." With how many hours had passed and how tired Esparza was becoming, he had forgotten the Arbiter's meaning - that humans, two in particular, were insistence on continually bartering deals with him.

[prankdoeswriting]

the earliest in the day I've written in a while lol; it seems to take maybe an hour to clear like two or three points in my outline, so idk how many more days the writing is gonna take.

also realized that people might not know the backstory: this is a prompt fic actually. certain things are happening because of those prompts.

and one of the prompts is Only One Bed >:)

The medic was marginally an improvement; but after seeing some of the other patients - or rather, constantly overhearing them - Esparza figured it was more that the medics were glad to have someone fully cooperate with them. In a short time, Esparza had even more alien trivia to file away for storytime: Sangheili were terrible patients. Even the calmest, most compliant ones were still always grumbling and questioning the medics' every statement. And if he didn't know any better, he could've sworn that the foreign expressions some of them made when it came to blood and cutting were... squeamish? "Loyalty to the Arbiter has not fully rid them of old habits," the medic tending to him said, after noticing how much he was staring at one patient in particular, who kept flinching despite trying to remain stone frozen. "They are all still part of the generations raised from birth to fear the spilling of their own blood, especially off the battlefield. We usually let them air our their grievances, however loudly, and that will usually help them calm down enough to proceed." Like tantruming toddlers, Esparza couldn't help but think. My god. The deadly aliens that brought humanity to the brink and nearly tortured me to death act like Iahlee did when it was time for shots.

-

At that thought, Esparza was immediately sobered. That's what thinking about your child in past tense does to a man.

-

"And Cortana..." No! "She is indeed gone," Phew... "But not her Created." Dammit. "Other AI have attempted to keep her tyrannical plans going. That front... that is a tomb of demons that cannot be unopened."

-

"A room has already been prepared that should be adequate enough for that rest." Which was really underselling it, as a quick personal escort by the Arbiter revealed it to be his own state suite. "Wait-" Esparza balked. The fact it was in such a fancy hallway, with a door guarded heavier than most others on the ship, already clued him in that this was an important space. But once the Arbiter translated the label on the door, and opened it to clearly a VIP master bedroom... "Your room? You're just giving it to me?!" "Yes," the Arbiter responded - and although his tone sounded nearly as even as his usual manner of speech, he was clearly holding back amusement this time. "Is there an issue with it?" "How about the fact that it's yours?!"

[prankdoeswriting]

we're coming to the home stretch now

also a lot of this writing session was the meat, the point, of the fic that I didn't want to spoil, so sorry if some excerpts seem bare and like they're missing something

"Therefore, I know it to be the softest bed on the ship, and the best for your recovery." He stretched out an arm, gesturing for Esparza to go inside. "I will be too busy with leading the remainder of the battle to use it, so it is fine for you to have it for the time being."

-

Yet still, in the back of his mind... Why is he being so nice to me specifically?

-

Too long of a beat of silence passed as the Arbiter continued to stare off, then glance back at Esparza. It reminded him of the Chief's quiet stares that'd sometimes pop up in conversation, when either he needed time to think of the verbal response, or that the silent stare was the response in full. The only difference was the lack of visor obscuring the Arbiter's face, his eyes, but it also might as well be there - not like Esparza was skilled enough to read the alien expressions, especially as they veered away from the realm of aggression and cruelty.

-

The silence continued, but a change did occur. The Arbiter stopped standing in place and moved towards the bed, sitting upon it and relaxing his body. There was no gesture for Esparza to sit next to him; which he appreciated, as he wasn't yet there to being comfortable enough with the prospect.

-

"Through him." His tone went wisty as the beginnings of a monologue formed.

-

His shoulders rolled, fighting off the depths of whatever those words could mean.

-

Just saying that could cause any human's brain-gears to churn. What did that mean? What did any of that mean? The Arbiter laid bare so much of his culture and personal life, but even then, Esparza's mind was clinging to what the same situation would mean between two humans. He thought maybe that was the wrong conclusion, based on all the emphasis on "differences", but... What else could he think of but that? "So you're... lovers??" "I would not say that," the Arbiter answered, a bit quickly but not entirely defensively. It was likely he was already prepared for this question.

-

At that mention, things started to finally click for Esparza. Maybe not any specific answers, but at least the feeling of "sometimes cultures have their own unique experiences that get their own unique words that no other language can properly convey". Goodness knows anyone living around an area with a language co-dominate with English knew the feeling.

-

"And because your... Because he wants me taken care of, you're doing that? Even though you don't even know me? Didn't even meet me before pulling me out of that mess? Give a man you don't know the name of your bed?" A snort came out of the Arbiter. "That is more common in Sangheili culture than you think." Then, after a brief reset of tone, he continued, "But yes. And if it would help... You could tell me your name." Esparza could only stare back.

[prankdoeswriting]

so I'm still working on the Charbilot thing and it's looking to be a long oneshot; I just put the current WIP in Word Counter and got 12k words, and I'm thinking another few thousand are gonna be added as I finish the last two sections of the outline

with that in mind, I wanted some opinions on how I should post this when its done. I am definitely getting it done this month because its the perfect timing (June), but I don't think I'll be getting it done before my weekend con, which I hoped to do previously. I am also questioning if I should even post this as a oneshot with how long it is, but if I break it up in multiple chapters then I don't wanna post it all at once, because in the past I've noticed when I did that (posted a lengthy multi-chapter all at once) it mucked up a fic's stats (I know I shouldn't be bothered by it but I am a little when it comes to something that took a long time to make)

if I break it up, I can do in two chapters; they'll still be several thousand words each, but they'll be neatly broken up into "May 30th, 2560" and "May 31st, 2560 & June 3rd, 2560". or ig I could do three chapters based on the three dates, but the distribution of word count would be fucky.

anyway, making a poll with some options. unfortunately can't do a full week or even 3 days because not enough time, so hopefully enough people that are invested in this will see it before 24 hours is up

How should I post the Charbilot?

behemoth oneshot later in June (less than 20k but more than 12k)

2 parts, 1st one (9k-10k) posted before this weekend, 2nd (little less than 9k)

3 uneven parts, 1st one (same) posted before this weekend, other 2 posted later

Voting ended onJun 4

regardless of whether you prefer the oneshot chopped in half or 3 chapters based on in-story date, the first chapter will be the same. best estimate I can give for what the other two chapters' size would be like if 3 chapters is chosen is maybe a distribution like 7k:2k assuming the second half of the overall story is roughly the same as the first.

[prankdoeswriting]

EDIT BECAUSE I CAN'T EDIT WHILE POLL IS ACTIVE:

After making this post, I ended up finishing the May 31st, 2560 section of the fic and can give a rough estimate of the final word count for what the 2nd chapter would look like in a 3-chapter scenario:

3k-4k range. it genuinely feels longer than that, but wow, I don't know if 3 chapters is a good idea word-count wise.

now with that data, I'm starting to think the June 3rd, 2560 section will be 1k. I don't see it hitting 2k.

I still think if I post it as a oneshot, it'll be after the weekend. Even if I finish writing tomorrow (or decide to fuck up my sleep schedule cramming the rest of the writing tonight), I still have to proofread like 15k words while juggling final con-prep. it's just less stressful for me not to push it.

[prankdoeswriting]

so I'm still working on the Charbilot thing and it's looking to be a long oneshot; I just put the current WIP in Word Counter and got 12k words, and I'm thinking another few thousand are gonna be added as I finish the last two sections of the outline

with that in mind, I wanted some opinions on how I should post this when its done. I am definitely getting it done this month because its the perfect timing (June), but I don't think I'll be getting it done before my weekend con, which I hoped to do previously. I am also questioning if I should even post this as a oneshot with how long it is, but if I break it up in multiple chapters then I don't wanna post it all at once, because in the past I've noticed when I did that (posted a lengthy multi-chapter all at once) it mucked up a fic's stats (I know I shouldn't be bothered by it but I am a little when it comes to something that took a long time to make)

if I break it up, I can do in two chapters; they'll still be several thousand words each, but they'll be neatly broken up into "May 30th, 2560" and "May 31st, 2560 & June 3rd, 2560". or ig I could do three chapters based on the three dates, but the distribution of word count would be fucky.

anyway, making a poll with some options. unfortunately can't do a full week or even 3 days because not enough time, so hopefully enough people that are invested in this will see it before 24 hours is up

How should I post the Charbilot?

behemoth oneshot later in June (less than 20k but more than 12k)

2 parts, 1st one (9k-10k) posted before this weekend, 2nd (little less than 9k)

3 uneven parts, 1st one (same) posted before this weekend, other 2 posted later

Voting ended onJun 4

regardless of whether you prefer the oneshot chopped in half or 3 chapters based on in-story date, the first chapter will be the same. best estimate I can give for what the other two chapters' size would be like if 3 chapters is chosen is maybe a distribution like 7k:2k assuming the second half of the overall story is roughly the same as the first.

[prankdoeswriting]

going to try and apply extra pressure to myself to finish this Charbilot oneshot (and the later Milfer oneshot) by posting highlights of each day's progress so here we go:

"There's... Something else has arrived. It showed up while we were in the Repository. So far, the Banished are talking as if it's hostile to them, but..." "The enemy of my enemy isn't always my friend," John said, with experience.

-

Looking up, they saw Phantoms, but- "Since when were the Banished a fan of orange?" the Weapon asked. "Not their favorite color," John said as he relaxed at the sight. "But I know whose is."

-

"Wait, you know friendly aliens?" Even as just a voice at the moment, John could hear the gawking in the Weapon's tone. "There are friendly aliens?"

[prankdoeswriting]

almost forgot to do it for last night:

"We're working on it," John said. "I... only just got here the other day." One of Thel's eye ridges raised - almost covered up by his helmet, but John had gotten too used at checking for those little details on his face. "Only the other day? When you left for the ring last year?" "I was the last one to touch ground by... a lot." He shrugged. "Not my best descent time."

-

"A pilot that's been working with me - he's been taken by the Banished into that place your men are headed to, the House of Reckoning. I have to get him back. He's not yet dead, but... They're torturing him. They're broadcasting it." Because of me. Because they want me and know how to get to me.

-

The details weren't truly important - not yet. For now, the story was clear and simple. Chief was anxious. He was desperate. Longing. All of those tough emotions - tough for anyone, but especially a Spartan - needed to be resolved, however slowly and bit-by-bit it took. And Thel would help with that, because that is what he is meant to do for John.

-

It was a bitter pill to swallow that these men were the ones that'd brought a fleet to Cortana's doorstep, while Thel was still stuck in fevered council meetings with his peers about how surrender to Cortana - no matter how sweet the deal - was unacceptable.

-

Truly, Chieftain Lydus was winning the contest of Thel's favorite Jiralhanae, even during the times that he barely heard news of the man.

[prankdoeswriting]

finally decided to drop everything else and just focus on this until it's finished; tonight was meant to just be a re-read of everything written so far, but I ended up writing a significant new amount

the theme of this section of the fic has been "Thel reacting to Halo Infinite" and "Thel being sick of Banished theatrics"

Although Thel knew part of what Escharum hoped to achieve here - a glorious battle to the death with the Master Chief to end his saga - the rest eluded him. Surely he knew that all the waves of soldiers he sent would be slaughtered? Was his ego starting to go rancid as death decayed him? Had he decided that the Banished should die along with him, or did he truly believe the Banished would survive after all the sacrifices he fed the Chief? Because surely he wouldn't risk his legendary ending if he truly thought any of these foot soldiers stood a chance.

-

Having grown accustomed to tuning out the War Chief's loudspeaker taunts during combat, Thel had almost missed that one.

-

The Chief was usually disappointed whenever he admitted failure; deep down, his own ego and pride in himself was there, just like Thel and the Banished leadership.

-

The most frustrating part about the Banished's brutality and psychopathy was how successful they were at it. It didn't matter how wrong Thel thought their philosophy was if they might just win the philosophical war by virtue of dominating the literal.

-

"The end approaches... But first... A last surprise." Rest your voice, you old fool, Thel shouted in his head. Or at least get on with it. Truly, all the showboating was proof enough that the old Jiralhanae was dying.

-

But perhaps he wasn't alone, as a grainy woman's voice sounded from inside the structure - "And can you say, 'I can't wait to see you again'?" - followed shortly by a child's "Hi!" They both shared a glance with each other - the first time these strange tauntings had gotten to them, because just what in hells was this going to be about? - before entering the structure.

-

Red slash marks burned into the ground, making Thel wish he had stuck to a gun just so he could reveal the invisible trickster sooner. Instead, the theatrics continued to play out as thuds sounded all around - somehow, the ceiling included.

[prankdoeswriting]

what I'm discovering is that it's impossible for me to write anything with a Thel POV that doesn't become a Thel Character Study, even about topics that have nothing to do with the main plot of the fic

a better writer than me would probably cut it and rewrite different connective tissue, but given its unlikely I'd write "Thel in Halo Infinite" in any other context, I will allow it to stay as extra calories

The shining example of what Sangheili medical practice could be was attached to an unhinged killer. Atriox had beaten him. Escharum had, too, by proving that Sangheili and Jiralhanae could overcome their bloody feud. Somehow, the Banished were proving more progressive. Except for the one place where it mattered most to Thel. They had abandoned every tradition except the tradition of war. That's where the bitterness truly settled at the back of Thel's throat: that what he envisioned could benefit the Sangheili and improve their lives was instead being propped up to help their potential destroyers.  And a little bit, the irony of it all.

-

He didn't seem to care as much for Thel's presence as he did the Master Chief's. Whether it was because this trap was first and foremost designed for the Chief, that the blademaster wanted to ensure the glory of killed him before setting aside time for the Arbiter, or something personal that Thel didn't know, the blademaster would do his best to avoid damage from Thel and sneak away to harass the Chief.

-

Disgusting. Absolutely depraved. And yet, simultaneously the minds that saw some of Thel's goals realized before he had, and somehow for motivations running completely counter to Thel's own. Gods - he wanted to see the galaxy get better, to realize the potential he saw in its peoples, and yet some days he really hated it. He would not let that rage lead to destruction like Atriox and Escharum had, but neither could he ignore its presence. So for today, he would live like a Spartan would: focus on the mission. Save the pilot. Stop the Banished's plans. Everything else could wait. Thel had to admit the comfort in such a way of thinking. No wonder John might never kill the habit.

[prankdoeswriting]

been a long time, oof. I had a bad April writing-wise. hoping the time apart didn't tank my ability.

"Leave me. Run!" the pilot urged. Foolish. Both of them. The Master Chief has already been set on his path. Only death can stop it now. And Spartans never die.

-

"No... you will try," Escharum continued. Thel looked around, trying to gauge the direction it was coming from, but the Banished warlord was making good use of the acoustics in the room. "Chief? He's here," came the AI, proving just how young and naive she was. Even Escharum clocked how useless of a warning it was in the next moment.

-

With his task in mind, Thel was prepared to lose all attention on Escharum, although he did register a thump as Escharum landed from high above (ah, clever, that's where he was) as well as some classic battle roars in between his incessant yapping.

-

"The Weapon-!" the pilot coughed, and at first Thel was concerned he had overlooked something. But as the pilot continued to squirm in Thel's arms, reaching out towards the destroyed torture device, something clicked. "She will be fine," Thel assured, his grip tightening on the weaker human. "You will be, too, but only if we leave here immediately." "Who are...?" His body started to go limp from a combination of sapped strength and realization of futility. Hauling the human over his shoulder, he answered, "A friend. Friend of a friend, I should say." "His...? The Chief...!" "He will be fine. I suspect Escharum is already aware his own time has come. Now stop struggling and let me help you."

-

"This is so weird..." he heard the pilot mumble. Before Thel could apologize, but insist on the safety measures, the man continued, "I came in dragged by the neck by an alien, now I'm coming out cradled by one..." "Hm. Yes, you must have had quite the day."

-

"A friend of a friend," he interrupted. "I know you said that, but... Really? With the Master Chief?" If he knew the entirety of who I am, he would show even further doubt.

-

Briefly, Thel wondered about that. If the pilot was with the UNSC, then surely he should have at least a little knowledge of the Swords of Sanghelios? Of the Arbiter? What did it imply that he seemed not to? That pilots were considered lower soldiers, not worthy of feel educational training? That this one did not pay attention in his classes? Surely not that the UNSC cared little about informing their forces about allied aliens. No, such a lax policy could not be possible with the Infinity. Besides the trust he had in its prominent crew members, it was almost impossible. Thel had stationed some of his warriors on the ship, to aid the UNSC and foster their alliance. Even if the ship was massive enough that the pilot never laid eyes on them, he must've at least heard of their presence. Unless... there was something about the pilot himself...?

-

Those were the main reasons he chose, but... He had to admit that, just a little bit, he didn't want to stray too far from the Chief's battle. He was so certain it'd be victorious, but neither did he want to be left in anticipation for too long. Chief had already kept him waiting for so many years.

-

"We are and have been a lot of things." His fingers pressed on all the points he knew humans were most delicate at, checking for signs of internal wounds or serious external injury. For the human's sake, he forwent anything that required looking under clothes. "'Friend' is not the best word in either of our languages. But I figured it would be the easiest to get across my point that I am here to help you, because he wanted to help you."

-

But Thel 'Vadam does not kiss and tell, nor spill secrets not his own.

-

Several minutes passed, but some hope came when the elevator was suddenly summoned upwards. The battle was over. In just a bit longer, the victor would reveal himself, and the two would have to go from there. "Do you think...?" the pilot started to ask, but Thel hushed him. "Were it so easy."

[prankdoeswriting]

forgot to do it for last session, so you get two session's worth

(as for the progress of the WIP in general, I'm in the second half now. the file is almost 16k words, but at most 5k of those words are outlines, archiving scraps, and jotting down fragments for the A/N. idk specific word count as the program I do my first drafts in doesn't measure highlighted sections like Google Docs)

"You referred to this as 'this last mission'," Thel finally said. "Although I believe the Banished would disagree with that phrasing, I insist you take a break once the Harbinger is defeated. You and the UNSC have held out well against the Banished. But now Swords of Sanghelios are here. You can afford some rest while we take advantage of the opportunities you created." While the Chief regarded him, Thel added, "I especially insist you take that time to come back to my ship, so we can discuss matters." The era of bottling feelings up and hoping to just get through them was over. Thel was not in this relationship to stay stuck on the side lines. That wasn't how this worked. After being granted a bit more time to think, John ultimately nodded his head and answered simply, "Deal," before beginning the march back to the outside world. Thel watched his back for a few beats, only to be interrupted by the pilot coming up next to him. "I thought only the UNSC had that kind of power over him," Echo-216 remarked, still recovering from some apparent shock. "He has never listened to a UNSC order to rest in his entire life," Thel snorted. Then he let the pilot's words sink in a bit more and added, "Power over him... I would not say I feel such a thing from my perspective, but I suppose I can understand how it looks from an outside one." I have had much work to do, Thel continued, keeping the rest of his musing private. And if I did not initiate that work, I doubt he ever would feel motivated to do so on his own terms. But I suppose that was half the reason I propositioned him in the first place. So deep in his musing that Thel almost missed one final murmur from Echo-216: "...What's that supposed to mean?"

-

Pretending he didn't hear in the first place, Thel started a slow walk to follow the Chief. He continued that pace even after he heard footsteps from behind, as he had made a deal to watch over this man and ensure no further harm came upon him. Still, he would give Echo-216 enough distance to not make it so obvious that he was being babysat. Not like Thel understood what was so bad about being in the care of an Arbiter and Kaidon, that human men kept shying away towards further strife, but he wasn't going to risk Echo-216 becoming as difficult as a certain other in that department.

-

Esparza dropped them off, then spent some time in hiding near the area. Because, as he pointed out to the Arbiter when pressed, the Chief didn't specify when their role in the mission would be over. A pilot would still be needed to bring the Chief back to the ship. To his credit, the Arbiter accepted that before Esparza could bring out every argument he packaged in his back pocket.

-

Neither was there any sign of the Weapon anywhere - at least, not any sign that an average guy like him could pick up. But surely someone clever like the Weapon would already know that and find some way to make herself obvious, so…

-

Esparza mulled that point over for a moment. "They wouldn't just leave us out to dry like that, right? Not without trying to leave a message?" "You would be surprised." The Arbiter's mandibles clacked quickly, bringing to mind a human clearing their throat with how quickly he pivoted to saying, "Perhaps not on purpose have they ended up elsewhere. Regardless of what is going on, we cannot rely on staying hidden from the Banished forever, and neither can you push yourself further without medical attention. If he continues to be missing by the time your health is cleared, I promise you will be allowed a part in the search."

-

"I thought you told Chief-" "I remember his exact words well. 'And if I can't, and you notice something is happening.' Do you notice anything amiss to suggest the Silent Auditorium and this unseen Harbinger has become a threat?" "No..."

-

The Arbiter didn't say it, but Esparza knew he had also already proven that point - that no matter how much of a passage of time, the Chief could be found in the strangest of places. If anything, that pattern was improving since his worst disappearance at the war's end.

-

A snort came out of the Arbiter before Esparza was even done speaking, but before he could additionally comment on it, the Arbiter replied, "I will accept that deal, too." With how many hours had passed and how tired Esparza was becoming, he had forgotten the Arbiter's meaning - that humans, two in particular, were insistence on continually bartering deals with him.

[prankdoeswriting]

the earliest in the day I've written in a while lol; it seems to take maybe an hour to clear like two or three points in my outline, so idk how many more days the writing is gonna take.

also realized that people might not know the backstory: this is a prompt fic actually. certain things are happening because of those prompts.

and one of the prompts is Only One Bed >:)

The medic was marginally an improvement; but after seeing some of the other patients - or rather, constantly overhearing them - Esparza figured it was more that the medics were glad to have someone fully cooperate with them. In a short time, Esparza had even more alien trivia to file away for storytime: Sangheili were terrible patients. Even the calmest, most compliant ones were still always grumbling and questioning the medics' every statement. And if he didn't know any better, he could've sworn that the foreign expressions some of them made when it came to blood and cutting were... squeamish? "Loyalty to the Arbiter has not fully rid them of old habits," the medic tending to him said, after noticing how much he was staring at one patient in particular, who kept flinching despite trying to remain stone frozen. "They are all still part of the generations raised from birth to fear the spilling of their own blood, especially off the battlefield. We usually let them air our their grievances, however loudly, and that will usually help them calm down enough to proceed." Like tantruming toddlers, Esparza couldn't help but think. My god. The deadly aliens that brought humanity to the brink and nearly tortured me to death act like Iahlee did when it was time for shots.

-

At that thought, Esparza was immediately sobered. That's what thinking about your child in past tense does to a man.

-

"And Cortana..." No! "She is indeed gone," Phew... "But not her Created." Dammit. "Other AI have attempted to keep her tyrannical plans going. That front... that is a tomb of demons that cannot be unopened."

-

"A room has already been prepared that should be adequate enough for that rest." Which was really underselling it, as a quick personal escort by the Arbiter revealed it to be his own state suite. "Wait-" Esparza balked. The fact it was in such a fancy hallway, with a door guarded heavier than most others on the ship, already clued him in that this was an important space. But once the Arbiter translated the label on the door, and opened it to clearly a VIP master bedroom... "Your room? You're just giving it to me?!" "Yes," the Arbiter responded - and although his tone sounded nearly as even as his usual manner of speech, he was clearly holding back amusement this time. "Is there an issue with it?" "How about the fact that it's yours?!"

[prankdoeswriting]

going to try and apply extra pressure to myself to finish this Charbilot oneshot (and the later Milfer oneshot) by posting highlights of each day's progress so here we go:

"There's... Something else has arrived. It showed up while we were in the Repository. So far, the Banished are talking as if it's hostile to them, but..." "The enemy of my enemy isn't always my friend," John said, with experience.

-

Looking up, they saw Phantoms, but- "Since when were the Banished a fan of orange?" the Weapon asked. "Not their favorite color," John said as he relaxed at the sight. "But I know whose is."

-

"Wait, you know friendly aliens?" Even as just a voice at the moment, John could hear the gawking in the Weapon's tone. "There are friendly aliens?"

[prankdoeswriting]

almost forgot to do it for last night:

"We're working on it," John said. "I... only just got here the other day." One of Thel's eye ridges raised - almost covered up by his helmet, but John had gotten too used at checking for those little details on his face. "Only the other day? When you left for the ring last year?" "I was the last one to touch ground by... a lot." He shrugged. "Not my best descent time."

-

"A pilot that's been working with me - he's been taken by the Banished into that place your men are headed to, the House of Reckoning. I have to get him back. He's not yet dead, but... They're torturing him. They're broadcasting it." Because of me. Because they want me and know how to get to me.

-

The details weren't truly important - not yet. For now, the story was clear and simple. Chief was anxious. He was desperate. Longing. All of those tough emotions - tough for anyone, but especially a Spartan - needed to be resolved, however slowly and bit-by-bit it took. And Thel would help with that, because that is what he is meant to do for John.

-

It was a bitter pill to swallow that these men were the ones that'd brought a fleet to Cortana's doorstep, while Thel was still stuck in fevered council meetings with his peers about how surrender to Cortana - no matter how sweet the deal - was unacceptable.

-

Truly, Chieftain Lydus was winning the contest of Thel's favorite Jiralhanae, even during the times that he barely heard news of the man.

[prankdoeswriting]

finally decided to drop everything else and just focus on this until it's finished; tonight was meant to just be a re-read of everything written so far, but I ended up writing a significant new amount

the theme of this section of the fic has been "Thel reacting to Halo Infinite" and "Thel being sick of Banished theatrics"

Although Thel knew part of what Escharum hoped to achieve here - a glorious battle to the death with the Master Chief to end his saga - the rest eluded him. Surely he knew that all the waves of soldiers he sent would be slaughtered? Was his ego starting to go rancid as death decayed him? Had he decided that the Banished should die along with him, or did he truly believe the Banished would survive after all the sacrifices he fed the Chief? Because surely he wouldn't risk his legendary ending if he truly thought any of these foot soldiers stood a chance.

-

Having grown accustomed to tuning out the War Chief's loudspeaker taunts during combat, Thel had almost missed that one.

-

The Chief was usually disappointed whenever he admitted failure; deep down, his own ego and pride in himself was there, just like Thel and the Banished leadership.

-

The most frustrating part about the Banished's brutality and psychopathy was how successful they were at it. It didn't matter how wrong Thel thought their philosophy was if they might just win the philosophical war by virtue of dominating the literal.

-

"The end approaches... But first... A last surprise." Rest your voice, you old fool, Thel shouted in his head. Or at least get on with it. Truly, all the showboating was proof enough that the old Jiralhanae was dying.

-

But perhaps he wasn't alone, as a grainy woman's voice sounded from inside the structure - "And can you say, 'I can't wait to see you again'?" - followed shortly by a child's "Hi!" They both shared a glance with each other - the first time these strange tauntings had gotten to them, because just what in hells was this going to be about? - before entering the structure.

-

Red slash marks burned into the ground, making Thel wish he had stuck to a gun just so he could reveal the invisible trickster sooner. Instead, the theatrics continued to play out as thuds sounded all around - somehow, the ceiling included.

[prankdoeswriting]

what I'm discovering is that it's impossible for me to write anything with a Thel POV that doesn't become a Thel Character Study, even about topics that have nothing to do with the main plot of the fic

a better writer than me would probably cut it and rewrite different connective tissue, but given its unlikely I'd write "Thel in Halo Infinite" in any other context, I will allow it to stay as extra calories

The shining example of what Sangheili medical practice could be was attached to an unhinged killer. Atriox had beaten him. Escharum had, too, by proving that Sangheili and Jiralhanae could overcome their bloody feud. Somehow, the Banished were proving more progressive. Except for the one place where it mattered most to Thel. They had abandoned every tradition except the tradition of war. That's where the bitterness truly settled at the back of Thel's throat: that what he envisioned could benefit the Sangheili and improve their lives was instead being propped up to help their potential destroyers.  And a little bit, the irony of it all.

-

He didn't seem to care as much for Thel's presence as he did the Master Chief's. Whether it was because this trap was first and foremost designed for the Chief, that the blademaster wanted to ensure the glory of killed him before setting aside time for the Arbiter, or something personal that Thel didn't know, the blademaster would do his best to avoid damage from Thel and sneak away to harass the Chief.

-

Disgusting. Absolutely depraved. And yet, simultaneously the minds that saw some of Thel's goals realized before he had, and somehow for motivations running completely counter to Thel's own. Gods - he wanted to see the galaxy get better, to realize the potential he saw in its peoples, and yet some days he really hated it. He would not let that rage lead to destruction like Atriox and Escharum had, but neither could he ignore its presence. So for today, he would live like a Spartan would: focus on the mission. Save the pilot. Stop the Banished's plans. Everything else could wait. Thel had to admit the comfort in such a way of thinking. No wonder John might never kill the habit.

[prankdoeswriting]

been a long time, oof. I had a bad April writing-wise. hoping the time apart didn't tank my ability.

"Leave me. Run!" the pilot urged. Foolish. Both of them. The Master Chief has already been set on his path. Only death can stop it now. And Spartans never die.

-

"No... you will try," Escharum continued. Thel looked around, trying to gauge the direction it was coming from, but the Banished warlord was making good use of the acoustics in the room. "Chief? He's here," came the AI, proving just how young and naive she was. Even Escharum clocked how useless of a warning it was in the next moment.

-

With his task in mind, Thel was prepared to lose all attention on Escharum, although he did register a thump as Escharum landed from high above (ah, clever, that's where he was) as well as some classic battle roars in between his incessant yapping.

-

"The Weapon-!" the pilot coughed, and at first Thel was concerned he had overlooked something. But as the pilot continued to squirm in Thel's arms, reaching out towards the destroyed torture device, something clicked. "She will be fine," Thel assured, his grip tightening on the weaker human. "You will be, too, but only if we leave here immediately." "Who are...?" His body started to go limp from a combination of sapped strength and realization of futility. Hauling the human over his shoulder, he answered, "A friend. Friend of a friend, I should say." "His...? The Chief...!" "He will be fine. I suspect Escharum is already aware his own time has come. Now stop struggling and let me help you."

-

"This is so weird..." he heard the pilot mumble. Before Thel could apologize, but insist on the safety measures, the man continued, "I came in dragged by the neck by an alien, now I'm coming out cradled by one..." "Hm. Yes, you must have had quite the day."

-

"A friend of a friend," he interrupted. "I know you said that, but... Really? With the Master Chief?" If he knew the entirety of who I am, he would show even further doubt.

-

Briefly, Thel wondered about that. If the pilot was with the UNSC, then surely he should have at least a little knowledge of the Swords of Sanghelios? Of the Arbiter? What did it imply that he seemed not to? That pilots were considered lower soldiers, not worthy of feel educational training? That this one did not pay attention in his classes? Surely not that the UNSC cared little about informing their forces about allied aliens. No, such a lax policy could not be possible with the Infinity. Besides the trust he had in its prominent crew members, it was almost impossible. Thel had stationed some of his warriors on the ship, to aid the UNSC and foster their alliance. Even if the ship was massive enough that the pilot never laid eyes on them, he must've at least heard of their presence. Unless... there was something about the pilot himself...?

-

Those were the main reasons he chose, but... He had to admit that, just a little bit, he didn't want to stray too far from the Chief's battle. He was so certain it'd be victorious, but neither did he want to be left in anticipation for too long. Chief had already kept him waiting for so many years.

-

"We are and have been a lot of things." His fingers pressed on all the points he knew humans were most delicate at, checking for signs of internal wounds or serious external injury. For the human's sake, he forwent anything that required looking under clothes. "'Friend' is not the best word in either of our languages. But I figured it would be the easiest to get across my point that I am here to help you, because he wanted to help you."

-

But Thel 'Vadam does not kiss and tell, nor spill secrets not his own.

-

Several minutes passed, but some hope came when the elevator was suddenly summoned upwards. The battle was over. In just a bit longer, the victor would reveal himself, and the two would have to go from there. "Do you think...?" the pilot started to ask, but Thel hushed him. "Were it so easy."

[prankdoeswriting]

forgot to do it for last session, so you get two session's worth

(as for the progress of the WIP in general, I'm in the second half now. the file is almost 16k words, but at most 5k of those words are outlines, archiving scraps, and jotting down fragments for the A/N. idk specific word count as the program I do my first drafts in doesn't measure highlighted sections like Google Docs)

"You referred to this as 'this last mission'," Thel finally said. "Although I believe the Banished would disagree with that phrasing, I insist you take a break once the Harbinger is defeated. You and the UNSC have held out well against the Banished. But now Swords of Sanghelios are here. You can afford some rest while we take advantage of the opportunities you created." While the Chief regarded him, Thel added, "I especially insist you take that time to come back to my ship, so we can discuss matters." The era of bottling feelings up and hoping to just get through them was over. Thel was not in this relationship to stay stuck on the side lines. That wasn't how this worked. After being granted a bit more time to think, John ultimately nodded his head and answered simply, "Deal," before beginning the march back to the outside world. Thel watched his back for a few beats, only to be interrupted by the pilot coming up next to him. "I thought only the UNSC had that kind of power over him," Echo-216 remarked, still recovering from some apparent shock. "He has never listened to a UNSC order to rest in his entire life," Thel snorted. Then he let the pilot's words sink in a bit more and added, "Power over him... I would not say I feel such a thing from my perspective, but I suppose I can understand how it looks from an outside one." I have had much work to do, Thel continued, keeping the rest of his musing private. And if I did not initiate that work, I doubt he ever would feel motivated to do so on his own terms. But I suppose that was half the reason I propositioned him in the first place. So deep in his musing that Thel almost missed one final murmur from Echo-216: "...What's that supposed to mean?"

-

Pretending he didn't hear in the first place, Thel started a slow walk to follow the Chief. He continued that pace even after he heard footsteps from behind, as he had made a deal to watch over this man and ensure no further harm came upon him. Still, he would give Echo-216 enough distance to not make it so obvious that he was being babysat. Not like Thel understood what was so bad about being in the care of an Arbiter and Kaidon, that human men kept shying away towards further strife, but he wasn't going to risk Echo-216 becoming as difficult as a certain other in that department.

-

Esparza dropped them off, then spent some time in hiding near the area. Because, as he pointed out to the Arbiter when pressed, the Chief didn't specify when their role in the mission would be over. A pilot would still be needed to bring the Chief back to the ship. To his credit, the Arbiter accepted that before Esparza could bring out every argument he packaged in his back pocket.

-

Neither was there any sign of the Weapon anywhere - at least, not any sign that an average guy like him could pick up. But surely someone clever like the Weapon would already know that and find some way to make herself obvious, so…

-

Esparza mulled that point over for a moment. "They wouldn't just leave us out to dry like that, right? Not without trying to leave a message?" "You would be surprised." The Arbiter's mandibles clacked quickly, bringing to mind a human clearing their throat with how quickly he pivoted to saying, "Perhaps not on purpose have they ended up elsewhere. Regardless of what is going on, we cannot rely on staying hidden from the Banished forever, and neither can you push yourself further without medical attention. If he continues to be missing by the time your health is cleared, I promise you will be allowed a part in the search."

-

"I thought you told Chief-" "I remember his exact words well. 'And if I can't, and you notice something is happening.' Do you notice anything amiss to suggest the Silent Auditorium and this unseen Harbinger has become a threat?" "No..."

-

The Arbiter didn't say it, but Esparza knew he had also already proven that point - that no matter how much of a passage of time, the Chief could be found in the strangest of places. If anything, that pattern was improving since his worst disappearance at the war's end.

-

A snort came out of the Arbiter before Esparza was even done speaking, but before he could additionally comment on it, the Arbiter replied, "I will accept that deal, too." With how many hours had passed and how tired Esparza was becoming, he had forgotten the Arbiter's meaning - that humans, two in particular, were insistence on continually bartering deals with him.

[prankdoeswriting]

going to try and apply extra pressure to myself to finish this Charbilot oneshot (and the later Milfer oneshot) by posting highlights of each day's progress so here we go:

"There's... Something else has arrived. It showed up while we were in the Repository. So far, the Banished are talking as if it's hostile to them, but..." "The enemy of my enemy isn't always my friend," John said, with experience.

-

Looking up, they saw Phantoms, but- "Since when were the Banished a fan of orange?" the Weapon asked. "Not their favorite color," John said as he relaxed at the sight. "But I know whose is."

-

"Wait, you know friendly aliens?" Even as just a voice at the moment, John could hear the gawking in the Weapon's tone. "There are friendly aliens?"

[prankdoeswriting]

almost forgot to do it for last night:

"We're working on it," John said. "I... only just got here the other day." One of Thel's eye ridges raised - almost covered up by his helmet, but John had gotten too used at checking for those little details on his face. "Only the other day? When you left for the ring last year?" "I was the last one to touch ground by... a lot." He shrugged. "Not my best descent time."

-

"A pilot that's been working with me - he's been taken by the Banished into that place your men are headed to, the House of Reckoning. I have to get him back. He's not yet dead, but... They're torturing him. They're broadcasting it." Because of me. Because they want me and know how to get to me.

-

The details weren't truly important - not yet. For now, the story was clear and simple. Chief was anxious. He was desperate. Longing. All of those tough emotions - tough for anyone, but especially a Spartan - needed to be resolved, however slowly and bit-by-bit it took. And Thel would help with that, because that is what he is meant to do for John.

-

It was a bitter pill to swallow that these men were the ones that'd brought a fleet to Cortana's doorstep, while Thel was still stuck in fevered council meetings with his peers about how surrender to Cortana - no matter how sweet the deal - was unacceptable.

-

Truly, Chieftain Lydus was winning the contest of Thel's favorite Jiralhanae, even during the times that he barely heard news of the man.

[prankdoeswriting]

finally decided to drop everything else and just focus on this until it's finished; tonight was meant to just be a re-read of everything written so far, but I ended up writing a significant new amount

the theme of this section of the fic has been "Thel reacting to Halo Infinite" and "Thel being sick of Banished theatrics"

Although Thel knew part of what Escharum hoped to achieve here - a glorious battle to the death with the Master Chief to end his saga - the rest eluded him. Surely he knew that all the waves of soldiers he sent would be slaughtered? Was his ego starting to go rancid as death decayed him? Had he decided that the Banished should die along with him, or did he truly believe the Banished would survive after all the sacrifices he fed the Chief? Because surely he wouldn't risk his legendary ending if he truly thought any of these foot soldiers stood a chance.

-

Having grown accustomed to tuning out the War Chief's loudspeaker taunts during combat, Thel had almost missed that one.

-

The Chief was usually disappointed whenever he admitted failure; deep down, his own ego and pride in himself was there, just like Thel and the Banished leadership.

-

The most frustrating part about the Banished's brutality and psychopathy was how successful they were at it. It didn't matter how wrong Thel thought their philosophy was if they might just win the philosophical war by virtue of dominating the literal.

-

"The end approaches... But first... A last surprise." Rest your voice, you old fool, Thel shouted in his head. Or at least get on with it. Truly, all the showboating was proof enough that the old Jiralhanae was dying.

-

But perhaps he wasn't alone, as a grainy woman's voice sounded from inside the structure - "And can you say, 'I can't wait to see you again'?" - followed shortly by a child's "Hi!" They both shared a glance with each other - the first time these strange tauntings had gotten to them, because just what in hells was this going to be about? - before entering the structure.

-

Red slash marks burned into the ground, making Thel wish he had stuck to a gun just so he could reveal the invisible trickster sooner. Instead, the theatrics continued to play out as thuds sounded all around - somehow, the ceiling included.

[prankdoeswriting]

what I'm discovering is that it's impossible for me to write anything with a Thel POV that doesn't become a Thel Character Study, even about topics that have nothing to do with the main plot of the fic

a better writer than me would probably cut it and rewrite different connective tissue, but given its unlikely I'd write "Thel in Halo Infinite" in any other context, I will allow it to stay as extra calories

The shining example of what Sangheili medical practice could be was attached to an unhinged killer. Atriox had beaten him. Escharum had, too, by proving that Sangheili and Jiralhanae could overcome their bloody feud. Somehow, the Banished were proving more progressive. Except for the one place where it mattered most to Thel. They had abandoned every tradition except the tradition of war. That's where the bitterness truly settled at the back of Thel's throat: that what he envisioned could benefit the Sangheili and improve their lives was instead being propped up to help their potential destroyers.  And a little bit, the irony of it all.

-

He didn't seem to care as much for Thel's presence as he did the Master Chief's. Whether it was because this trap was first and foremost designed for the Chief, that the blademaster wanted to ensure the glory of killed him before setting aside time for the Arbiter, or something personal that Thel didn't know, the blademaster would do his best to avoid damage from Thel and sneak away to harass the Chief.

-

Disgusting. Absolutely depraved. And yet, simultaneously the minds that saw some of Thel's goals realized before he had, and somehow for motivations running completely counter to Thel's own. Gods - he wanted to see the galaxy get better, to realize the potential he saw in its peoples, and yet some days he really hated it. He would not let that rage lead to destruction like Atriox and Escharum had, but neither could he ignore its presence. So for today, he would live like a Spartan would: focus on the mission. Save the pilot. Stop the Banished's plans. Everything else could wait. Thel had to admit the comfort in such a way of thinking. No wonder John might never kill the habit.

[prankdoeswriting]

been a long time, oof. I had a bad April writing-wise. hoping the time apart didn't tank my ability.

"Leave me. Run!" the pilot urged. Foolish. Both of them. The Master Chief has already been set on his path. Only death can stop it now. And Spartans never die.

-

"No... you will try," Escharum continued. Thel looked around, trying to gauge the direction it was coming from, but the Banished warlord was making good use of the acoustics in the room. "Chief? He's here," came the AI, proving just how young and naive she was. Even Escharum clocked how useless of a warning it was in the next moment.

-

With his task in mind, Thel was prepared to lose all attention on Escharum, although he did register a thump as Escharum landed from high above (ah, clever, that's where he was) as well as some classic battle roars in between his incessant yapping.

-

"The Weapon-!" the pilot coughed, and at first Thel was concerned he had overlooked something. But as the pilot continued to squirm in Thel's arms, reaching out towards the destroyed torture device, something clicked. "She will be fine," Thel assured, his grip tightening on the weaker human. "You will be, too, but only if we leave here immediately." "Who are...?" His body started to go limp from a combination of sapped strength and realization of futility. Hauling the human over his shoulder, he answered, "A friend. Friend of a friend, I should say." "His...? The Chief...!" "He will be fine. I suspect Escharum is already aware his own time has come. Now stop struggling and let me help you."

-

"This is so weird..." he heard the pilot mumble. Before Thel could apologize, but insist on the safety measures, the man continued, "I came in dragged by the neck by an alien, now I'm coming out cradled by one..." "Hm. Yes, you must have had quite the day."

-

"A friend of a friend," he interrupted. "I know you said that, but... Really? With the Master Chief?" If he knew the entirety of who I am, he would show even further doubt.

-

Briefly, Thel wondered about that. If the pilot was with the UNSC, then surely he should have at least a little knowledge of the Swords of Sanghelios? Of the Arbiter? What did it imply that he seemed not to? That pilots were considered lower soldiers, not worthy of feel educational training? That this one did not pay attention in his classes? Surely not that the UNSC cared little about informing their forces about allied aliens. No, such a lax policy could not be possible with the Infinity. Besides the trust he had in its prominent crew members, it was almost impossible. Thel had stationed some of his warriors on the ship, to aid the UNSC and foster their alliance. Even if the ship was massive enough that the pilot never laid eyes on them, he must've at least heard of their presence. Unless... there was something about the pilot himself...?

-

Those were the main reasons he chose, but... He had to admit that, just a little bit, he didn't want to stray too far from the Chief's battle. He was so certain it'd be victorious, but neither did he want to be left in anticipation for too long. Chief had already kept him waiting for so many years.

-

"We are and have been a lot of things." His fingers pressed on all the points he knew humans were most delicate at, checking for signs of internal wounds or serious external injury. For the human's sake, he forwent anything that required looking under clothes. "'Friend' is not the best word in either of our languages. But I figured it would be the easiest to get across my point that I am here to help you, because he wanted to help you."

-

But Thel 'Vadam does not kiss and tell, nor spill secrets not his own.

-

Several minutes passed, but some hope came when the elevator was suddenly summoned upwards. The battle was over. In just a bit longer, the victor would reveal himself, and the two would have to go from there. "Do you think...?" the pilot started to ask, but Thel hushed him. "Were it so easy."

[prankdoeswriting]

going to try and apply extra pressure to myself to finish this Charbilot oneshot (and the later Milfer oneshot) by posting highlights of each day's progress so here we go:

"There's... Something else has arrived. It showed up while we were in the Repository. So far, the Banished are talking as if it's hostile to them, but..." "The enemy of my enemy isn't always my friend," John said, with experience.

-

Looking up, they saw Phantoms, but- "Since when were the Banished a fan of orange?" the Weapon asked. "Not their favorite color," John said as he relaxed at the sight. "But I know whose is."

-

"Wait, you know friendly aliens?" Even as just a voice at the moment, John could hear the gawking in the Weapon's tone. "There are friendly aliens?"

[prankdoeswriting]

almost forgot to do it for last night:

"We're working on it," John said. "I... only just got here the other day." One of Thel's eye ridges raised - almost covered up by his helmet, but John had gotten too used at checking for those little details on his face. "Only the other day? When you left for the ring last year?" "I was the last one to touch ground by... a lot." He shrugged. "Not my best descent time."

-

"A pilot that's been working with me - he's been taken by the Banished into that place your men are headed to, the House of Reckoning. I have to get him back. He's not yet dead, but... They're torturing him. They're broadcasting it." Because of me. Because they want me and know how to get to me.

-

The details weren't truly important - not yet. For now, the story was clear and simple. Chief was anxious. He was desperate. Longing. All of those tough emotions - tough for anyone, but especially a Spartan - needed to be resolved, however slowly and bit-by-bit it took. And Thel would help with that, because that is what he is meant to do for John.

-

It was a bitter pill to swallow that these men were the ones that'd brought a fleet to Cortana's doorstep, while Thel was still stuck in fevered council meetings with his peers about how surrender to Cortana - no matter how sweet the deal - was unacceptable.

-

Truly, Chieftain Lydus was winning the contest of Thel's favorite Jiralhanae, even during the times that he barely heard news of the man.

[prankdoeswriting]

finally decided to drop everything else and just focus on this until it's finished; tonight was meant to just be a re-read of everything written so far, but I ended up writing a significant new amount

the theme of this section of the fic has been "Thel reacting to Halo Infinite" and "Thel being sick of Banished theatrics"

Although Thel knew part of what Escharum hoped to achieve here - a glorious battle to the death with the Master Chief to end his saga - the rest eluded him. Surely he knew that all the waves of soldiers he sent would be slaughtered? Was his ego starting to go rancid as death decayed him? Had he decided that the Banished should die along with him, or did he truly believe the Banished would survive after all the sacrifices he fed the Chief? Because surely he wouldn't risk his legendary ending if he truly thought any of these foot soldiers stood a chance.

-

Having grown accustomed to tuning out the War Chief's loudspeaker taunts during combat, Thel had almost missed that one.

-

The Chief was usually disappointed whenever he admitted failure; deep down, his own ego and pride in himself was there, just like Thel and the Banished leadership.

-

The most frustrating part about the Banished's brutality and psychopathy was how successful they were at it. It didn't matter how wrong Thel thought their philosophy was if they might just win the philosophical war by virtue of dominating the literal.

-

"The end approaches... But first... A last surprise." Rest your voice, you old fool, Thel shouted in his head. Or at least get on with it. Truly, all the showboating was proof enough that the old Jiralhanae was dying.

-

But perhaps he wasn't alone, as a grainy woman's voice sounded from inside the structure - "And can you say, 'I can't wait to see you again'?" - followed shortly by a child's "Hi!" They both shared a glance with each other - the first time these strange tauntings had gotten to them, because just what in hells was this going to be about? - before entering the structure.

-

Red slash marks burned into the ground, making Thel wish he had stuck to a gun just so he could reveal the invisible trickster sooner. Instead, the theatrics continued to play out as thuds sounded all around - somehow, the ceiling included.

[prankdoeswriting]

what I'm discovering is that it's impossible for me to write anything with a Thel POV that doesn't become a Thel Character Study, even about topics that have nothing to do with the main plot of the fic

a better writer than me would probably cut it and rewrite different connective tissue, but given its unlikely I'd write "Thel in Halo Infinite" in any other context, I will allow it to stay as extra calories

The shining example of what Sangheili medical practice could be was attached to an unhinged killer. Atriox had beaten him. Escharum had, too, by proving that Sangheili and Jiralhanae could overcome their bloody feud. Somehow, the Banished were proving more progressive. Except for the one place where it mattered most to Thel. They had abandoned every tradition except the tradition of war. That's where the bitterness truly settled at the back of Thel's throat: that what he envisioned could benefit the Sangheili and improve their lives was instead being propped up to help their potential destroyers.  And a little bit, the irony of it all.

-

He didn't seem to care as much for Thel's presence as he did the Master Chief's. Whether it was because this trap was first and foremost designed for the Chief, that the blademaster wanted to ensure the glory of killed him before setting aside time for the Arbiter, or something personal that Thel didn't know, the blademaster would do his best to avoid damage from Thel and sneak away to harass the Chief.

-

Disgusting. Absolutely depraved. And yet, simultaneously the minds that saw some of Thel's goals realized before he had, and somehow for motivations running completely counter to Thel's own. Gods - he wanted to see the galaxy get better, to realize the potential he saw in its peoples, and yet some days he really hated it. He would not let that rage lead to destruction like Atriox and Escharum had, but neither could he ignore its presence. So for today, he would live like a Spartan would: focus on the mission. Save the pilot. Stop the Banished's plans. Everything else could wait. Thel had to admit the comfort in such a way of thinking. No wonder John might never kill the habit.

[prankdoeswriting]

going to try and apply extra pressure to myself to finish this Charbilot oneshot (and the later Milfer oneshot) by posting highlights of each day's progress so here we go:

"There's... Something else has arrived. It showed up while we were in the Repository. So far, the Banished are talking as if it's hostile to them, but..." "The enemy of my enemy isn't always my friend," John said, with experience.

-

Looking up, they saw Phantoms, but- "Since when were the Banished a fan of orange?" the Weapon asked. "Not their favorite color," John said as he relaxed at the sight. "But I know whose is."

-

"Wait, you know friendly aliens?" Even as just a voice at the moment, John could hear the gawking in the Weapon's tone. "There are friendly aliens?"

[prankdoeswriting]

almost forgot to do it for last night:

"We're working on it," John said. "I... only just got here the other day." One of Thel's eye ridges raised - almost covered up by his helmet, but John had gotten too used at checking for those little details on his face. "Only the other day? When you left for the ring last year?" "I was the last one to touch ground by... a lot." He shrugged. "Not my best descent time."

-

"A pilot that's been working with me - he's been taken by the Banished into that place your men are headed to, the House of Reckoning. I have to get him back. He's not yet dead, but... They're torturing him. They're broadcasting it." Because of me. Because they want me and know how to get to me.

-

The details weren't truly important - not yet. For now, the story was clear and simple. Chief was anxious. He was desperate. Longing. All of those tough emotions - tough for anyone, but especially a Spartan - needed to be resolved, however slowly and bit-by-bit it took. And Thel would help with that, because that is what he is meant to do for John.

-

It was a bitter pill to swallow that these men were the ones that'd brought a fleet to Cortana's doorstep, while Thel was still stuck in fevered council meetings with his peers about how surrender to Cortana - no matter how sweet the deal - was unacceptable.

-

Truly, Chieftain Lydus was winning the contest of Thel's favorite Jiralhanae, even during the times that he barely heard news of the man.

[prankdoeswriting]

finally decided to drop everything else and just focus on this until it's finished; tonight was meant to just be a re-read of everything written so far, but I ended up writing a significant new amount

the theme of this section of the fic has been "Thel reacting to Halo Infinite" and "Thel being sick of Banished theatrics"

Although Thel knew part of what Escharum hoped to achieve here - a glorious battle to the death with the Master Chief to end his saga - the rest eluded him. Surely he knew that all the waves of soldiers he sent would be slaughtered? Was his ego starting to go rancid as death decayed him? Had he decided that the Banished should die along with him, or did he truly believe the Banished would survive after all the sacrifices he fed the Chief? Because surely he wouldn't risk his legendary ending if he truly thought any of these foot soldiers stood a chance.

-

Having grown accustomed to tuning out the War Chief's loudspeaker taunts during combat, Thel had almost missed that one.

-

The Chief was usually disappointed whenever he admitted failure; deep down, his own ego and pride in himself was there, just like Thel and the Banished leadership.

-

The most frustrating part about the Banished's brutality and psychopathy was how successful they were at it. It didn't matter how wrong Thel thought their philosophy was if they might just win the philosophical war by virtue of dominating the literal.

-

"The end approaches... But first... A last surprise." Rest your voice, you old fool, Thel shouted in his head. Or at least get on with it. Truly, all the showboating was proof enough that the old Jiralhanae was dying.

-

But perhaps he wasn't alone, as a grainy woman's voice sounded from inside the structure - "And can you say, 'I can't wait to see you again'?" - followed shortly by a child's "Hi!" They both shared a glance with each other - the first time these strange tauntings had gotten to them, because just what in hells was this going to be about? - before entering the structure.

-

Red slash marks burned into the ground, making Thel wish he had stuck to a gun just so he could reveal the invisible trickster sooner. Instead, the theatrics continued to play out as thuds sounded all around - somehow, the ceiling included.

[prankdoeswriting]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Touhou Project Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fujiwara no Mokou/Houraisan Kaguya, Houraisan Kaguya & Yagokoro Eirin, Fujiwara no Mokou & Yagokoro Eirin Characters: Yagokoro Eirin, Houraisan Kaguya, Fujiwara no Mokou Additional Tags: Not Beta Read, Short One Shot, Yuri, Enemies to Lovers, Marriage Proposal, (particularly the planning of them), References to Canon, Relationship Advice, Immortality, Immortals Series: Part 70 of 365 Days of Writing (2026 Personal Challenge), Part 176 of Works by "Prank" (Pseud Series) Summary:

But to be asking for the same type of advice as Kaguya... No, even more ironic: that they both had, independently of each other, decided to propose at the same time.

Eirin is a long-time important and wise friend of Kaguya's, which means that Kaguya asks her for advice on how to propose to Mokou - and that Mokou also asks her for advice on how to propose to Kaguya.

(Based on Flufftober 2025 Alt Prompt 9.)

[prankdoeswriting]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: プロジェクトセカイ カラフルステージ！| Project SEKAI COLORFUL STAGE! (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hatsune Miku/Megurine Luka, Hatsune Miku & Megurine Luka Characters: Hatsune Miku, Megurine Luka Additional Tags: Not Beta Read, Ficlet, platonic or romantic, Empty Sekai (Project SEKAI), Fluff, N25 Hatsune Miku, WxS Megurine Luka, mentioned N25 Megurine Luka Series: Part 69 of 365 Days of Writing (2026 Personal Challenge), Part 175 of Works by "Prank" (Pseud Series) Summary:

The Miku of the Empty Sekai invites the Luka of the Wonderland Sekai to hang out, even if its inevitable that all that'll happen is Luka sleeping in her lap.

(Based on Flufftober 2025 Alt Prompt 20.)

[prankdoeswriting]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Vocaloid, Sanrio - Fandom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cinnamoroll (Fluffy Fluffy Cinnamoroll) & Hatsune Miku Characters: Hatsune Miku, Cinnamoroll (Fluffy Fluffy Cinnamoroll) Additional Tags: Not Beta Read, Drabble, Wordcount: 100, Fluff, Alternate Timelines, Plushies, Beds, Merchandise Series: Part 68 of 365 Days of Writing (2026 Personal Challenge), Part 174 of Works by "Prank" (Pseud Series) Summary:

In one universe, Hatsune Miku collects Cinnamoroll plushies. In another, Cinnamon collects Hatsune Miku posters.

(Based on Fluffuary 2026 Day 31.)

[prankdoeswriting]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Leona Kingscholar/Idia Shroud Characters: Idia Shroud, Leona Kingscholar Additional Tags: Not Beta Read, Ficlet, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Mentioned Ruggie Bucchi, Mentioned Azul Ashengrotto - Freeform, Soft Leona Kingscholar, Literal Sleeping Together Series: Part 67 of 365 Days of Writing (2026 Personal Challenge), Part 173 of Works by "Prank" (Pseud Series) Summary:

When Idia is given the job of retrieving a missing Leona, he's unaware of the trap sleepy Leona goads him into.

(Based on Flufftober 2025 Alt Prompt 4.)

[prankdoeswriting]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sarah Palmer & Thel 'Vadam | The Arbiter Characters: Thel 'Vadam | The Arbiter, Sarah Palmer (Halo) Additional Tags: Not Beta Read, Ficlet, Fluff, Character Study, References to Canon, Alien Cultural Differences Series: Part 66 of 365 Days of Writing (2026 Personal Challenge), Part 172 of Works by "Prank" (Pseud Series) Summary:

Therefore, his opportunities to repay her for saving his life on Ealen-IV during those sabotaged peace talks were limited. She refused any other method of gratitude - feasts, gifts, favors - out of classic Spartan professionalism, so repayment on the battlefield would have to do.

(Based on Flufftober 2025 Prompt 19.)

[prankdoeswriting]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: プロジェクトセカイ カラフルステージ！| Project SEKAI COLORFUL STAGE! (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mochizuki Honami/Yoisaki Kanade Characters: Yoisaki Kanade, Mochizuki Honami Additional Tags: Not Beta Read, Ficlet, Pre-Relationship, Love at First Sight, Vampires, Maids, Boss/Employee Relationship, Strangers to Lovers, References to Canon, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Immortality, Canonical Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Short & Sweet Series: Part 65 of 365 Days of Writing (2026 Personal Challenge), Part 171 of Works by "Prank" (Pseud Series) Summary:

What it says on the tin.

Kanade is a secret vampire countess in Victorian times and Honami is the oblivious new maid set to help her out while a majority of the staff are dedicated to healing her father.

(Based on Flufftober 2025 Prompt 4.)

[prankdoeswriting]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: ウマ娘 プリティーダービー | Uma Musume: Pretty Derby (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Rice Shower (Uma Musume), Haru Urara (Uma Musume) Additional Tags: Not Beta Read, Ficlet, Fluff and Angst, minor Rice Shower & Haru Urara, References to Canon, Tags Are Hard, Short & Sweet, failed drabble, Wordcount: 100-500 Series: Part 64 of 365 Days of Writing (2026 Personal Challenge), Part 170 of Works by "Prank" (Pseud Series) Summary:

An Uma always booed when she won watches an Uma cheered on as she is utterly defeated.

(Based on Flufftober 2025 Prompt 8.)

[prankdoeswriting]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jul 'Mdama/Raia 'Mdama Characters: Jul 'Mdama Additional Tags: Not Beta Read, Ficlet, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Revenge, Character Study, References to Canon, Halo Lore (Video Games), Kilo-5 Trilogy (Halo), references and descriptions of causes of death, it dances around between vague and graphic, Colors Series: Part 63 of 365 Days of Writing (2026 Personal Challenge), Part 169 of Works by "Prank" (Pseud Series) Summary:

Previously, Jul's world had been full of color. Until the day she died. From the moment he learned of her fate, certain colors took over his world while the rest were rejected.

Anything beautiful remaining in this galaxy would be snuffed out, because how dare it continue to exist in spite of her absence - how dare it all outlive her.

(Based on March 2026 Fandom-Free Bingo.)