aerial maneuver

Padme feeding the twins vs. Anakin feeding the twins

Padme feeding Leia: Here comes the plane! *gently pushes spoon into baby’s mouth*

Anakin feeding Luke: Here comes the plane! *executes a series of outlandish aerial maneuvers with spoon before placing it in baby’s mouth*

Bonus: Obi-Wan feeds the twins

Obi-Wan: Here comes the plane!- at a reasonable speed, taking care to observe all laws and with its passengers securely fastened nod if you understand Luke *feeds baby after nod*

These hummingbird fakemon were commissioned by kyurem2424 (dA) and are based off his own designs.

Tropichirp  (Normal/Flying)
#010 - Extremely light weight, these Pokemon spend almost all their time in search of food: a combination of nectar, berries, and small insects. Their tiny feet can’t be used for walking or hopping, so their primary locomotion is flight. They have a tremendous stamina for their size, and their unique flight abilities is similar to Yanma, allowing them to zip around at top speed, changing direction quickly, hovering, and even moving backwards.

Amazip  (Grass/Flying)
#011 - A diet rich in nectar has made this Pokemon part Grass-type. Their strong talons and increased size allows them to hunt larger prey, though their preference continues to be foods with a high sugar content, like nectar or berry juice. A welcome sight in fields and gardens, these Pokemon are a big contributor to flower pollination.

Chlorush (Grass/Flying)
#012  - Unrivaled in aerial maneuvers, these Pokemon are extremely territorial of their feeding grounds, and are surprisingly fierce in their aggression. They have been known to drive off much larger Pokemon using their long, sharp beak. Their flower-like tail plumage helps this Pokemon blend into their environment while resting. Males are found to be more colorful, which is thought to be a mating tactic to woo future partners.

More Austa Region Fakemon

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Blueprint For Terror: Is The WWE Unintentionally Showing Terrorists How To Perform America’s Best Wrestling Moves?

America is under siege from the forces of radical Islamic terrorism. With the stakes so high, vigilance is paramount. We must hold accountable any institutions whose carelessness may be inadvertently helping ISIS and endangering us all. It’s high time we asked the tough question that no one wants to ask: Is the WWE unintentionally showing terrorists how to perform America’s best wrestling moves?

The Islamic State will use every tool at its disposal to bring ruin to the West, which is what makes World Wrestling Entertainment’s recklessness so dangerous. By making WrestleMania so easily accessible on TV and online, the WWE is essentially handing our enemies a step-by-step guide to bringing the pain to our soldiers night after night.

There’s no way to sugarcoat this: Monday Night Raw may unwittingly be one of ISIS’s very most valuable assets.

Masterful finishing moves like the Stone Cold Stunner and the R.K.O., meticulously developed by top WWE Universal Champions over the years, can be used to devastating, slam-tastic results. But it doesn’t take a large leap of the imagination to figure that, when a spine-busting wheelbarrow suplex leads to a wrestler proudly holding the title belt over their head as their opponent writhes in agony, ISIS is watching.

How can anyone consider our country safe when any ISIS militant can simply turn on the TV and study a WWE Superstar’s perfect form as they turn an opponent upside down and drive them headfirst into the mat?

With WWE publicly broadcasting the very best of our wrestlers’ throws, aerial maneuvers, holds, and double-teams, it’s only a matter of time before we see a terrorist execute a skull-rattling Attitude Adjustment with a precision that until now only John Cena could. Meanwhile, extremist assaults on our god-given liberties will only increase in severity and frequency as soldiers of the Islamic State learn to launch themselves off the ropes and clothesline our boys in uniform to terrifying, badass effect.

How long will it be until ISIS develops a Powerbomb Facebuster of its own? This once-inconceivable scenario could soon be a reality. In fact, it seems the question is not if ISIS will become capable of putting an American soldier in a facelock with their legs and then dropping their ass flat, but when.

Tipping our hand to the terrorists would be a travesty. For the sake of American lives both domestic and on the battlefield, the WWE needs to do far more to ensure that the ability to perform Chokeslam Backbreakers stays out of Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi’s hands. Here’s hoping they get it together before it’s too late, because in the fight against terrorism, there are no rematches.

You know what I love about the sequence where the Generals drop onto Puig?

First, both Ezor and Zethrid look at Acxa. I’ve heard people talk about the way Zethrid argues with Acxa in s3e6, but the thing is… Acxa isn’t SiC just cause, that’s the role she naturally fits in with the rest of the team. None of them are prompted to look to her, but they just do.

They’re all the same rank (general). Technically Acxa has no real authority to boss any of them around, and there’s pretty much no way that Zethrid, stated as a stubborn and proud person, wouldn’t know that.

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F-22 Raptor performs an aerial maneuver during the 2016 Heritage Flight Training and Certification Course at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base, Ariz.,

This started out as an ask because it seemed too amusing not to share and then kinda evolved into an almost proto-outline when I wasn’t looking so *drops on your doorstep and runs before it consumes my brain*

As an inversion of selkie!Tobirama, I’ve been thinking of Phoenix!Madara, whose flock nests in the forests not too far from the Senju compound. Madara meets Hashirama first when he tries to fly before his flight feathers have come in and falls out of the nest. Hashirama helps Madara back into the nest despite getting singed, and keeps coming back until Madara gives up trying to chase him off. Tobi eventually badgers Hashirama into taking him along (mainly to prove that Hashirama isn’t going to provoke the phoenix flock to descend in fury upon the Senju). Tobirama and Madara get off a bit on the wrong foot as Tobirama isn’t convinced Madara is an actual phoenix since he doesn’t have the majestic adult plumage yet and has his black-red juvenal plumage (including brand new flight feathers).

Madara attempts to prove himself a great and majestic phoenix through aerial maneuvers and promptly flies into a tree. Tobirama is unimpressed.

Fastforward a decade or two, and while Hashirama barely ever has time to visit the phoenix forest with his duties as clan head, Tobirama can be found there more often than not at the base of Madara’s tree with a book or jutsu scroll or mediating. Madara often brings Tobirama food because Tobirama never brings any with him, and occasionally shiny rocks or other objects Madara thinks Tobirama might find interesting (which includes pilfered books, katanas on two separate occasions, various scrolls, pieces of armor, a twig with cherry blossoms and silk). Madara also tends to engage in more aerial acrobatics when Tobirama’s around, even if Tobirama is never going to see Madara as particularly majestic (though he does privately acknowledge the beauty of Madara’s adult plumage in crimson, amber, and gold edged and spotted in places with black).

The entire flock watches and are either laughing or despairing over all of Madara’s courtship displays as they go right over Tobirama’s head.

Then Madara decides that his best chance of success in wooing Tobirama is to find a legendary gem rumored to have the power to turn a phoenix human. Madara spends years searching before giving up, and returning to his home forest. He stops by the Senju compound on the way, and finds that Tobirama has had the stone sitting in his office as a paperweight the entire time. (Tobirama never tells Madara the gem was one of the first treasures Madara ever gave him.)

Ancient Wisdom

“Oh, great wise Aphria, Queen of the Forest, tell us what thoughts percolate in your ancient mind!” the druids sang up into the treetops above.

The fairies and fireflies flew circles in the air, giving the forest an ethereal atmosphere as they danced about in complex aerial maneuvers, and their light illuminated the darkness of the deep forest. 

Their dance was interrupted as suddenly the ground shook, rumbling as though an earthquake has struck. The druids in their blue and green cloaks lost their balance and tripped as it seemed like the earth itself slipped from beneath their feet. The roots slithered and wriggled across the ground as suddenly, the largest and oldest tree in the center of the forest began to move.

Aphria, the last of the Great Tree Sages, opened her eyes. She looked down at her druid summoners. Her eyes were piercing blue and her face, though old with many eras, commanded respect and timelessness.

As she spoke, her soft voice carried with it gravitas and spirit that the druids have never heard before. “You have done well to summon me, young mortals. I shall impart with you my ancient wisdom of eras long gone.” and so she spoke to them for 3 days and 3 nights, and the druids wrote down every word.

When she was finally done, she closed her eyes. “And now, I fare thee well, mortals. I shall speak to your kind once again when the treetops line up with the heavens, two thousands and four hundred winters from now.” and thus she went back into the ground.

Many more eons have passed, and Aphria was ready to awaken and share her wisdom with the world once again. Though this time, she wasn’t awakened by the heavenly singing of a group of devoted druids, but by the ruckus and noise of thousands of news vans within and just outside of her forest.

“What is the matter of this, humans?” she woke up with a start, or as much of a start a tree can have. She pushed aside a few vans that were parked on top of her roots.

“Ms. Aphria, Ms. Aphria! What will you be voting in the upcoming election? Is it true you still haven’t applied for citizenship? What has been stopping you?” a barrage of thousands of questions blasted her ancient wooden ears.

“Silence!” she screamed, and her shout echoed through the forest and surrounding countryside. She looked down and with her branch pointed at a young reporter. “You, what do you want to know?”

The young reporter walked up the trunk of the great tree sage and pulled out a tablet. “What party will you be voting for in the upcoming national elections?”

“Excuse me?” Aphria seemed confused, none of this mayhem made any sense.

“What values do you stand for?”

“I am the last of my kind, I have been tasked with passing forward the knowledge of my ancient race so it may aid humanity.”

“So, would you say you believe in tradition? Should I write you down as a Traditionalist?”

“Well, I am quite fond of traditional rituals, so I guess so.”

With that, the ruckus erupted once again in the forest as thousands of reporters started laying down questions and accusations.

“Great Tree Sage is a traditionalist! Ms. Aphria how could you betray young citizens like that?! This is why they shouldn’t let entities over 6500 years old to vote!” they continued shouting and snapping photos.

Aphria grumbled. As the ruckus around her grew, she gently slipped back into the forest and shut out the world around her. She didn’t feel like sharing her wisdom with this generation of humanity. Maybe next time.

The Angel With The Metal Wings

Pairing: Sam Wilson X Angel!Reader

Summary: When you fall from the sky in front of the Avengers, they take you in and things happen from there.

Word Count: 2733

Warnings: I suck at summaries. Mute reader, Clint signs, communication issues.

Author’s Note: This has art from the lovely @ceasdraws. See reblog.


Everything hurt, the world was too bright for your eyes. The foreign noises you could hear were the equivalent of knives being thrown into the target of your eardrums. Your body felt heavy and awkward, and yet you were shivering for the first time.

It seemed like it took forever but your eyes finally adjusted to the assault of the rays from the sun. It was then that you saw him, the angel with the shimmering wings. Unlike your wings, which were now part of your flesh and bloody body, that ruffled and curled around you in an attempt to keep you warm. These wings were unlike any you had seen, sleek and foreign.

The person attached to these metallic wings swooped in, having no doubt just witnessed your fall. You watched his eyes as he took in your wings, and cautiously approached you.

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Roleplay Ramblings: Strange Materials part 3

Exotic Materials

So with the core set and mundane primitive materials out of the way, we can get to what new fare pathfinder offers us in its setting-neutral materials. These vary from exotic minerals, strange organic products, and the results of unique creation processes.

For example, some evil craftsfolk fashion leather armor from tanned angelskin, which provides a screen between the wearer and various goodly effects.

Another is blood crystal, a strange quartz that eagerly, possibly actively absorbs blood, making it useful for weapons as it compounds the harm of various bleed effects.

Compounding on the uses of darkwood, darkleaf cloth, which is made from weaving darkwood tree leaves and bark strips into a flexible material, which serves well for lighter armors while maintaining the impressively light weight associated with the tree.

Some even experiment with the hide of electric eels to make a naturally insulating armor that is also quite flexible.

For something a little more exotic, there is elysian bronze, forged from metals found in the upper planes and sometimes gifted to great mortal heroes, elysian bronze empowers the wielder against magical beasts and monstrous humanoids, proving all the more deadly against them in weapon form, and more resilient agains them in armor form.

Fire-Forged and Frost-Forged Steel are actually the same substance, but careful manipulation of this alloy changes the direction its unique properties flow, granting protection against fire or frost in armor form, and being able to absorb heat, or become extremely cold when exposed to said energies in weapon form, adding a little bit of mundane elemental power to their strikes for a short while.

Those with wooden weaponry who wish to avoid having to make repairs sometimes seek out greenwood, a rare substance made from taking living branches from a tree animated by a treant, and enchanted by the words of a dryad. If all goes well, the result is a wooden weapon that is truly alive, able to heal damage with water, sunlight, and fertile soil. However, such weapons and items cannot be bought, only made and given freely.

Though called Griffon Manes, light armor made this way can be made from the fur of any magical leonine beast. The breezy material actually makes aerial maneuvers easier, and enhances the power of any magical flight the wearer possesses.

Thematically similar to greenwood, living steel forms in knodules of certain hard-bodied trees, absorbed from minerals in the soil. Harvested and forged properly, these lumps of metal retain certain plant-like qualities, and heal themselves when their current form is damaged. Furthermore, armor made from living steel is especially resilient to the touch of most other metals, denting and blunting metal weapons.

Another green material, viridium, is much less benign, for the hard volcanic glass exudes some strange, poisonous property that can make flesh rot on those who are struck by a weapon carved from it, and slivers can even break off and cause lasting damage. However, carrying such a weapon risks exposure to the same foul energies (read: radiation).

Some cultures, namely the vanara, make weapons with hafts made from woven wooden fibers rather than a single straight piece of would, making them much more flexible and whippy, hence the name: whipwood. This flexibility comes in handy for avoiding having the weapon broken.

Finally, wyroot, a curious woody root, has the ability to absorb energies from those struck by such weapons, particularly on critical hits. From there, magi or monks can absorb this energy, converting it to arcane energy or ki respectively.

And that’s just the setting-neutral stuff. Tomorrow, we’ll be tackling some of the substances found specifically in the Golarion setting!

Expanse Fantasy!AU, where the Rocinante is a Dragon and Alex is her rider.

Alex giving her rub downs with a healthy amount of praise after each fight. 

Roci giving him nudges with her snout when she knows he’s taking a mission hard and needs to run drills to feel better, not matter how much she’d like to lay down with a side of lamb.

Alex only letting the doctors he trusts to take a look at her when she’s hurt, staying in the stall the entire time to make sure she’s okay.

Alex and Roci cuddled together in the stables late at night. 

Under chin scratches and belly rubs.

Amazing aerial maneuvers.  

Alex and Roci flying off into the sunset.

anonymous asked:

Oh oh I have a request! How about desperate, 'I thought I lost you' kisses when the reader returns from a mission several days late? Mccree, genji, tracer and maybe poly!reaper76 would be stellar but if that's too many, just do your favorites! <3

McCree


He’s trying to make himself a sandwich from the sparse contents of the fridge, going for a BLT but ending up with something that is mostly pickles, when Winston calls him up to the conference room. There’s been a complication and you have to lay low for a while, no radio contact at all while Talon searches for the thief that stole a truck full of supplies. He gives Jesse the tape of your last transmission, says there’s a personal message for him on there. He takes the tape and the sandwich and leaves, tries not to think about how what’s on that tape may well be the last words he’ll ever hear from you. The seagulls end up eating most of his lunch. He has lost his appetite.


A little over forty-eight hours pass and he still hasn’t listened to the tape. He’s not brave enough, can’t do this without fearing something has happened to you. He’d rather pretend nothing is wrong until the call comes that you’re safe on your way home. It comes, and the moment he has your location he is out of the door, going to meet you halfway, despite Winston’s urging that it’s still dangerous for him to be seen in public with the bounty on his head. It’s just a few hours, but Jesse can’t wait.
He smuggles himself on the hypertrain from Gibraltar to Spain and hitches a ride to the airport, using fake money to buy a plane ticket to London, where you are scheduled to switch flights just minutes after he lands.
The people around him curse and throw their hands up in rude gestures when he pushes past them, searching for your terminal and finding it with minor difficulty. You he could pick out in larger masses. He’s drawn to you, doesn’t need to search, knows when you’re close by like he’s a damn homing pigeon.

“Jesse, what are you-”
He doesn’t let you speak. All the worry, the hastily suppressed fear, bubbles to the surface and he can’t do anything but pull you into a crushing hug and kiss you like he’ll die if he doesn’t.

You recoil at the sudden onslaught but relax when you realise what this is about.

“I’m alright.” you say when you part briefly for air. He doesn’t answer, kisses you again. There are no words for the agony he went through at the thought of never seeing you again. Nothing to talk about that can’t be expressed with his lips on yours and so you hold him as tight as he holds you and kiss until your lips go numb.

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Skydream

Shiro’s wingspan is huge, magnificent, densely feathered and beautiful. Keith’s wings are small in comparison, barely full-fledged, sickly and weak. It was lovely watching Shiro soar up towards the clouds only to dive down again, skimming over foamy ocean waves and across wavering blades of grass. Keith wished he could fly like that, could perform the aerial maneuvers everyone else practiced and mimicked. He’d performed every move a thousand times in his head. The only time he flew long distances, or very high up, was when Shiro flew with him. Shiro would fly ahead to scout out updrafts to make gliding easy, and stayed close to catch Keith if he trembled, in danger of falling.

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i felt like i wasnt going to address it but i see more and more people taking other people down for not being “true” fans or for being “new fans”. i just wanted to take the time on here to really express that FOB has always tried to embrace an inclusive vibe- we are all part of this thing. all of us were new fans at some time- if you hung out with me in my pre-teen years i would have driven you insane with my ridiculous metaliica fan boying. even just yesterday i had a geeky fan moment with slash….

i think some of this speaks to an influx of new fans- people that may have found their way due to bands like one direction and 5sos- ive met both of these bands- both are full of hardworking, talented, but most importantly nice kids. everyone has to start somewhere- there was a time when our band was on TRL and i remember some of the backlash us and other bands got simply due to being on a video show that teenage america watched… but the most important part of this as it relates to FOB is that the more fans there are and the more bands that are being played on the radio the more we can tour around the world- it keeps the ecosystem that our band exists in thriving. think about that the next time you take a shot at someone for not knowing something or being a “big” enough fan.

that being said its a great and wonderful part of being a human being to have your own opinions- just remember to express them in empathetic ways- everyone has their own unique struggle.

i wanted to include some stuff we really built our stage show for monumentour around in case you are coming so you know some of the backstory to some of the elements.

there are many images of chicago (our hometown) and the idea that it doesnt matter how many times you fail as long as you keep getting up… the intro to our set is something weve been working on for awhile.

the floating stage is something that has been kicking around as an idea since the “black clouds” tour- but we finally were able to create a design that we felt was versatile enough to bring out on tour. it is all based upon pyramid design and shapes.

speaking of pyramids this was an updated idea of content for arms race. 

for stagewear we had our friend dr. romanelli create a lambskin jacket (andys is denim & vegan friendly). which we then had theresa sharpe from best ink tattoo with images from the youngblood chronicles. this process was pretty insane as they are not painted, they are actually tattooed on the leather.

the phoenix always had a fighter pilot vibe to me… the content reflects that everything from cockpit to aerial maneuvers.

just one yesterday was written with this scene from the modern romeo and juliet in mind so it seemed kind of fitting to fix it into the background of the song live.

and finally the encore stage design is a nod to one of our favorite fantasy movies of all time the labyrinth. 

we hope you come out to a show and have a blast. keep an open mind and heart… 

xx

p

paganinpurple  asked:

Also: Marichat 17. Crush swap

Love Square Prompts

It looked like a department store had exploded on Marinette’s bedroom floor.

Everywhere you turned, there were skirts and jeans and shorts. Dresses had been flung about with careless abandon. A T-shirt hung from the pennant that decorated the wall. And yet despite the overwhelming mess, still more outfits were flying from the closet where the small blue-eyed girl had been hiding ever since she’d placed the call to her partner about her scheme, forcing Tikki to preform some impressive aerial maneuvers to avoid shirts, skirts and sweaters as they were rejected one after another.

“No no no no NO!” Moaning in dismay, Marinette collapsed face first on top of a white hand-knit sweater dress. “It’s HOPELESS! I’ll never find anything in here that can impress Chat!”

“Marinette.” Tikki sighed, disapproval and sympathy warring in her tone. “You’re supposed to be focusing on capturing the akuma, not flirting with your partner.”

“Can’t I do both though?” Marinette asked in a small voice, looking up at her Kwami with big, hopeful eyes.

The glare Tikki shot her in return was far from impressed.

“Marinette…” Tikki began again.

“I know, I knoooow!” Marinette groaned, faceplanting into the dress once more. “It’s just… this is the first time I’m meeting Chat as me instead of Ladybug, and I’m really, REALLY nervous! I want him to like me!”

“I’m sure he’ll like you just fine, Marinette.” Tikki placated her charge. “But don’t forget that your duties as Ladybug comes before romance. People are counting on you, remember? Chat Noir is counting on you, too.”

“I know.” Marinette repeated, more solemnly this time. “You’re right, Tikki. I can’t let myself get distracted by silly things like this.”

“There’s my girl!” Tikki cheered, beaming up at Marinette in approval. Marinette smiled back, but then froze when a knock came from her trap door.

“Marinette, sweetie?” Her mother called up to her uncertainly. “Chat Noir is here to see you. Something about an akuma…?”

The high pitched shriek that Marinette emitted at that could be heard for miles. 

“What?! NO! I’m not ready yet! I haven’t even decided what I’m going to wear!” The girl panicked, diving back into her closet. Tikki gave a long suffering sigh as she watched her charge disappear and clothes were tossed out once more.

Well. She tried, anyways.

How come no one talks about the fact that both Rey and Poe are considered to be crack pilots in the new Star Wars? Can you imagine the shenanigans they would get into? I would bet my entire arm that Rey would try to pilot an X-wing one night when she figured no one would notice just because she wants to see if she can. 

She takes BB-8 with her because she’s going to need a copilot, but of course Poe is going to notice that someone ran off with his droid (or rather his droid ran off with them.) Poe catches her and she’s sure that he’s going to turn her in, but instead he says “You definitely don’t want to take that ship. Jessika will skin you alive. Take mine instead.” And she’s just over the moon because sharing is not a concept she’s used to. 

Poe expects her to take it slow, so he’s totally not expecting it when she starts pulling off these sick aerial maneuvers that he’d never expect from a noob and he’s just down on the ground gobsmacked while Rey’s freaking out about how smooth the controls are and how quickly it turns. She earns his respect very quickly after that. 

She and Poe, realizing that they’re both very good pilots, start getting competitive and start having races in his fighter and the Falcon. Rey keeps working on the Falcon to try and make it faster so she can beat him, and the old girl’s in need of some maintenance anyway so why not? Eventually she realizes that even though the Falcon is fast and she’s good, she’s going to need a copilot to save on time. 

Finn turns out to be hopeless at it and Chewie isn’t hot on the idea of all these reckless races around the base because Rey I’m supposed to be looking out for you what are you doing. He does agree to help her upgrade the Falcon, though. After all, it’s still his baby and if he can make it a little safer, why not? Rey is going to do this stuff anyway. 

Rey starts thinking she’ll have to build some weird contraption in the cockpit to let her hit the far away buttons by herself, but then she finds someone who will be her copilot: R2-D2. 

This old, foul-mouthed droid hasn’t done any real, proper flying since the Empire days, and boy is he ready to wreck someone’s shit. Sure it’s just Poe’s pride, but that doesn’t matter. R2 is READY. He and Rey really start perfecting their technique and bonding over flying. Sometimes (all the time) R2 likes to tell Rey daring stories about all the wars he’s been in and how many times he’s almost died. Rey wouldn’t believe him if he were human, but being a droid, R2 has all kinds of recordings and the like to back it up. 

The moment they started flying together, poor Poe didn’t stand a CHANCE. 

Anyway, for the sweet summer children who still don’t understand why large wrestlers might find it hard to do fancy aerial manuevers, feel free to look up Sid Vicious (though don’t watch the videos unless you really feel up to it).

Here’s an excerpt;

“Members of WCW management allegedly felt that Eudy needed to broaden his arsenal of wrestling moves and suggested that he try an aerial maneuver, despite his “unwillingness”. Eudy felt it unnecessary for a wrestler of his size and type to do high spots and did not feel comfortable doing them. During the match, Eudy suffered a leg fracture following his leap from the second turnbuckle in an attempted big boot on Steiner. This had him awkwardly landing on one foot while kicking with the other, severely fracturing the leg he landed on. Eudy broke his left leg in half, snapping both the tibia and fibula, with at least one of the bones breaking through the skin. The fracture was too graphic for many TV stations to re-air, although it was shown on the following Nitro.

The injury put Sid out of action indefinitely, and he pondered retiring from wrestling for good: “I had about a year left on my contract, and I was thinking back then prior to hurting my leg what was I going to do as far as wrapping up my career. The only thing I really wanted to do was ideally go out in a big pay-per-view, like a WrestleMania or something like that main event, leave like that, and not come back again. It would really be the retirement match”.

A 17-inch (43 cm) rod was placed in his leg during the two-hour surgery. For a while, Eudy used a cane to walk. Sid later sued WCW, claiming that he was made to jump off the second rope against his objections. The injury forced a plot change in the 2001 SuperBrawl Revenge event. The main event was supposed to be Kevin Nash, Diamond Dallas Page, and Sid against Scott Steiner, Jeff Jarrett, and Road Warrior Animal but was rewritten as Kevin Nash versus Scott Steiner. WCW would then be purchased by the WWF the following month, ceasing any possibility of Sid’s return to that company.“

This is what they risk every time they go up the top turnbuckle or dive from the top rope so honestly, give props to the big guys who do this stuff like Taker, Reigns and Owens.
This not worthit for any wrestler just to fill your quota of holy shit moments. If they’re uncomfortable with that style and have never done it and are subsequently forced into it, the consequences can be severe.
It’s always better for them to work with a style they’re comfortable with (and fits their body type) and make the very best of it and grow from there.

So, this one is kinda late. That’s partly because I was a little lazy about writing yesterday since I was celebrating my birthday. Sorry to delay this! Major shout outs to @hiqhwarlockbane
@imadjobsessedbandaddict and @greyyjoys
for giving me the inspiration for this, and @sailingmeships @subject-to-feels and @ein-teufel-im-engelskreis for being awesome and encouraging me so much!

This was inspired by a discussion on Kurt grooming Warren’s wings for him and Warren messing them up (totally on purpose) the next day so that he’d do it again. It kind of just went from there and turned into this. Enjoy!
============
Warren’s eyes slipped closed as he hummed, practically purring in pleasure.

“You’re good at this….” He murmured quietly. Kurt giggled softly.

“Danke, Varren!” Kurt bit his lip, concentrating on gently cleaning and straightening out the feathers of Warren’s wings.

The blue mutant had noticed them getting messy over the past few days. Ever since he’d been cleared for training with Kurt and the other new X-Men, Warren had taken to using his newly regrown wings increasingly often, spending hours of free time just wheeling about the grounds of the Institute.

The increased use had also meant that they needed additional grooming, something Warren simply didn’t always have the time or energy for. So Kurt had offered to groom them for him. That was how Warren found himself melting down into his bed as Kurt moved around him, expertly running his fingers through the soft feathers.

He forced his eyes open, turning his head slightly towards Kurt.

“You know you don’t have to do all of them, right?” He asked. If he were a better person, he’d have gotten up already, let Kurt get back to doing things that were much more productive than grooming Warren’s wings, especially since the were jut as likely to get messed up again in a few days’ time. But he wasn’t as good a person as Kurt believed him to be so here he remained, going from sitting to laying facedown on his bed, luxuriating in the feeling of someone grooming his wings.

“Unsinn,” Kurt replied easily, not even pausing in his work. “An engel’s wings should always be clean and beautiful.”

“They’re just gonna get messed up again anyway, with the way training has been going. If I sat down to do this every time they got dirty, I’d never leave my room outside of training or eating,” Warren grumbled, but his protests were belied by the pleased ruffling of his feathers as Kurt carefully moved from his left wing to his right one.

“Maybe so. But it wouldn’t hurt to spend a little extra time taking care of them. Especially since it clearly feels nice,” the blue mutant pointed out reasonably.

“Shut up.” There was no heat to Warren’s response. He wouldn’t even bother trying to deny how nice it felt. “Sensitive wings. Who knew?”

Kurt chuckled, finally pulling away from him. Warren bit down on his lip hard to prevent a sound of protest escaping his lips. He had not almost whimpered. He hadn’t!

“I am glad to help if you ever have trouble reaching spots.”

“Definitely won’t hear any complaints from me,” Warren replied, sitting up and shooting a smirk over his shoulder at the younger mutant. Kurt returned it with a beaming smile of his own, which definitely didn’t do anything to Warren’s chest.

And when Warren wandered casually into the kitchen with his wings once again an absolute mess, he’d swear it had nothing to do with how much he’d enjoyed the feeling of Kurt’s hands in his feathers. Kurt took him in and shook his head, taking the first chance he got to pull Warren back up to his room to spend another hour or two grooming them back into a proper appearance.

“I do not understand how you get them so dirty!” He commented offhandedly, laser-focused on his task as he picked twigs out from between the feathers and brushed dirt away, straightening the feathers back into neat lines.

“I like buzzing the trees, ok? And the aerial maneuvers they have me working on aren’t exactly leisurely loop de loops either,” Warren grumbled in response. Even he could feel how the excuse was slightly flimsy. He did indeed enjoy buzzing the buildings and trees, but he was skilled enough to easily avoid them without doing so much damage to his wings. Especially since at high speeds, they stuck closer to his body for a more streamlined, aerodynamic posture.

Kurt hummed, blessedly not calling him on the excuse. “Alright, that should feel better.” Warren smiled as he turned to face Kurt, stretching his wings out.

“It does. Thanks, Kurt,” he replied with a smile. Kurt ducked his head but not before Warren caught the start of a purple flush covering his face and the small smile it earned him. His own smile turned into a pleased smirk at the sight.

“You are velcome Varren.”
••••••••
The two were hanging out in Kurt’s room the next day when Warren nearly jumped out of his skin at the professor’s voice in his head.

[X-Men, meet me down in Cerebro. We have important matters to discuss.]

“….did you just hear-?”

“The professor? Yes. It appears he has need of us down below.”

“God, it’s fucking weird when he starts talkin’ in our heads like that….”
•••••••••
“Cerebro has identified a potential new student for the Xavier Institute. Shiro Yoshida’s mutation makes him incredibly volatile. He must be retrieved and brought to the Institute for training to learn control, but before that happens, we need someone who can arrive ahead of Hank and the X-copter to help assure him we are not seeking to lock him away or pick him apart in a lab.”

“Wait, wait! On a scale of one to Australia, how dangerous are we talkin’ here?” Peter asked.

“Definitely Australia,” Hank replied. “His powers are incredibly volatile, and essentially make him a walking nuclear reactor. It’s imperative he understand that he is not being attacked, kidnapped, threatened or forced in any way when we make contact.”

“Will we be able to communicate with him?”

“He speaks decent English, so communication will not be an issue. The problem is getting someone who can get there soon enough. He lives in Japan, a very long flight for jets, copter can’t fly very fast, and in his current state he is a danger to himself and others.”

“I could run there,” Peter suggested. “I’d easily get there faster than the copter would.”

“Peter, you’re offering to run nearly 7,000 miles. Even with your enhanced endurance, you would need to constantly be resting, and there would be almost no opportunities to do so once you started running over the ocean.”

“Could Kurt try teleporting his way there?” Everyone paused to look at Scott like he was a moron. “Not all at once, obviously! I know he can’t do that! It’s as far as he can see, right? He could go in little stretches like that. Once he reaches the ocean he could potentially go pretty far. You can see w long way out there.”

Kurt tilted his head, opening his mouth to reply, but before he could, Warren spoke.

“You must be an idiot if you think that would work.” His voice was hard and cold. All eyes turned to him. Scott scowled at him.

“Why?”

“For one thing, it’d be quicker to let Peter try to run there. For another, we’ve already established that doing a string of long teleportations strains Kurt. He’d need to sleep fairly often in order to not push himself to hard. And once he got out over the ocean that’d be next to impossible to do. There’s no way you can sanely ask him to push himself like that.”

Scott flushed angrily, which Warren took as a victory. “And what are you, his defender now?”

“If you assholes plan on asking him to go on a mission like this where it could and would KILL him, when you know he won’t outright refuse if you push him, yeah I am!” Warren growled.

“Yeah? That’s not how it started is it? You tried to kill him multiple times, and now you’re trying to protect him?” At that, Warren’s face shuttered closed, his face completely neutral. Even Scott knew that it was a low blow, and that he definitely shouldn’t have said it, before any of the others could call him on it.

“Because you took such good care of him and totally didn’t just use him as a glorified taxi!” He snarled back. Chagrined, Scott backed down.

“Well, I don’t suppose YOU have any ideas, then?”

“I do actually. And before you ask, it doesn’t involve putting anyone at risk of drowning somewhere in the Pacific, or just leaving this Shiro guy to his devices,” Warren snapped.

“Varren….” Kurt laid a soothing hand on his arm. Warren shook it off, refusing to meet Kurt’s eyes.

“I’ll go. I can fly out ahead easily enough.” Scott scowled a little.

“How is that not just putting yourself at risk of drowning?”

“Because I won’t be flying right above the ocean, dumbass! I’ll be up in the jet streams, where I will be easily out of reach of the waves!” He ground out, his jaw clenching.

“But Varren, vill you be able to make it that far?”

Warren released a breath, still mostly avoiding Kurt’s gaze. “I flew across the Atlantic on my own when I was 10. And we’ve been testing my endurance. I can fly across the U.S. with no problems, find someplace in California to eat, get some sleep, and then have one last meal, and then head out. I should be ok, but if I need to I can stop at a couple of the islands on the way for a few hours of rest.” He turned to face the professor. “I can do this,” he insisted. Xavier steepled his fingers, considering him for a long moment.

“I believe you Warren. Hank and I will set about making further preparations. You had best begin resting up for your journey. You’ll leave tomorrow. All of your are dismissed.” Warren nodded, turning to leave. He was halfway down the hall when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He tensed, resisting the impulse to grab the offending ligament and throw them into the wall.

“Warren listen….I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“Save it, Summers,” he interrupted coldly. “You made your point clear. I get it.” With that, he shook Scott’s hand off and strode away.

He didn’t see Kurt coming up to stand beside Scott and scowl at him.

“You need to fix this! You have upset Varren!” He told him.

“I know! I tried! He just brushed me off!” Scott replied, frustrated. Kurt shook his head.

“You know he is too stubborn and proud to simply accept that. You must try harder!” And with that, he disappeared in a flash of smoke, doubtlessly going after Warren.
•••••••••••
Warren was pacing his room, his wings fluttering agitatedly, when Kurt popped in.

“You are supposed to be resting,” he said softly, “not making holes in the floor vith your pacing.” Warren turned to face him in surprise, before looking away. He moved to sit on his bed, looking down at his feet. Kurt hesitantly moved to sit next to him. “Scott should not have said those things to you.” Warren shrugged.

“Why not? Not like it wasn’t true.”

“You are a part of our team. Ve have long since moved past that. To be bring it up like that was uncalled for. Ororo is furious with him for saying that, as she should be.” Kurt placed a hand on his shoulder. Warren let out a deep breath, but didn’t shake it off. “Varren….please tell me….that you did not volunteer yourself for this mission because you wished to prove that?”

“Of course I didn’t!” Warren exclaimed, finally looking up to meet Kurt’s eyes. “I was the best option. I can actually make the journey across the Pacific without putting myself at risk. If you or Peter got tired while attempting that, you’d be screwed. I can just ride the winds over there and at least reach a couple of the islands to rest for a few hours before heading out again.”

“…..very vell. I still vish you hadn’t spoken up so against my going….” Suddenly Warren looked guilty.

“Kurt….I didn’t say that because I doubt your abilities. I know you’re tough. But I’ve seen how tired you are after some of the longer exercises where you have to constantly teleport. And the ocean? That’s a whole lot more risky than the Danger Room. Out there, there’s no turning it off if something goes wrong. I wasn’t about to let them seriously consider sending you out on a mission like that with no backup.”

“And what about you? You have no problem sending yourself out with no backup!”

“I’ll be fine! The winds and air are much more reliable and predictable than the ocean!”

“You still should not be out alone! Vhat if you get off course, or something happens and ve can’t reach you, or this mutant attacks you before Hank and the professor arrive?”

“That won’t happen-”

“But how do you know that?!” Warren stared in shock as Kurt shook, his fists clenched and staring down as he took deep breaths to get ahold of himself. “I understand that you believe you would be put at less risk than Peter or I in undertaking this. But YOU must try to understand that if something were to happen to you on this mission, if we lost you, I….I would be very upset, Varren.”

Warren was at a loss for words. He struggled to speak around the lump in his throat, reaching out to touch him gently.

“Kurt, I can’t promise that everything will go exactly to plan. But you have to know I’ll do everything in my power to make sure nothing does. I’ll be careful. I don’t like the idea of not having backup out there any more than you do.”

“Then bring me with you! I can help! We can watch out for each other and when one gets tired on the way over the other can take over for a while!” Warren blew out a deep breath.

“Kurt, you know that won’t work. I won’t be able to carry you with me for long enough, it’d take too much of my energy. I may be strong, but my bones are light and you’re no paperweight. It’d be too risky, especially over the open ocean. Plus, you’re not adapted for high altitudes. My mutation and Apocalypse’s….‘upgrades’ make me built to withstand and survive the harsh conditions up there, but you would have no protection, no built-in immunities, unless you’ve got some avian mutation that I don’t know about, in which case you’ve been holding out on us.”

Kurt looked down, clearly unhappy with this, but he didn’t argue.

“I….I do not want you to be out there alone. Vhat if something happens that we won’t know about? If you get hurt….”

“Hey, Kurt, look at me,” Warren spoke gently, gently tilting the blue mutant’s head up so he’d meet his eyes. “I promise you I will be as careful as possible. Like I said, I can’t promise nothing will go wrong, but you gotta believe I’ll do my damnedest to make it back in one piece. And if it’ll make you feel better, I can go talk to the professor and Hank about a way to communicate with you guys?” Kurt sucked in a deep breath, and slowly nodded.

“Yes, it vould make me feel much better. But you vill get some rest now. I vill go talk to them about it. You need all your strength for this mission.” He stood to leave.

“….alright, Kurt. Thanks.”

“You are velcome, Engel. I vill see you in the morning.”

“Yeah. See ya.” With that, Kurt teleported out of the room.
••••••••••••
The next morning, Warren was being suited up for the mission with various equipment and supplies. There was a new suit designed to help ensure his body temperature remained in a healthy range at the high altitudes he’d be flying at, as well as help him easily cut through the air; a built in stash that was packed with nutrient rich snacks meant to give him energy on one arm, and one with caffeine pills (“For absolute necessity only,” Hank had warned him sternly) on the other; and strapped to his forearm was a GPS device to help make sure he hit his route correctly to reach Japan as quickly as possible, and could easily reach any of the islands scattered throughout the Pacific for a rest; finally, Hank had outfitted him with a radio comm.

“Kurt suggested this. Figured it’d be a good idea to maintain radio communication with the copter, especially for when you’re out of Jean or Charles’s telepathic range,” Hank explained. “Check in every hour or so, or whenever you’re making a stop or something happens. That way if something goes wrong we have something to work with. Your suits got a waterproof GPS tracker in it as well so we’ll at least have a basic idea where you are if something happens.”

Warren’s eyes slid to the other blue mutant standing nearby as he nodded at Hank’s explanation of everything. The furry man pat him on the shoulder.

“Good luck. You’ll be fine, and we’ll be watching out for you. We’ll get there as soon as we can to help you if you need it.”

“Pfft. I got this. I won’t need any help from you, old man.”

“Alright, whatever you say, kid.” Hank rolled his eyes at Warren’s antics before walking away to continue prepping the copter. Warren turned his attention to Kurt.

“Check in every hour,” the younger boy instructed as he stepped in front of Warren, staring him in the eyes, “Don’t forget! And if anything happens, anything at all, use the radio. It isn’t shameful to ask for help. And it would at least be good to let us know.”

“Alright, Kurt. I will. I promise,” Warren replied, reaching out to take his hand. “And I promise I’ll make it back in one piece.”

“You’d better,” Kurt snarked, his voice catching a little and his eyes growing watery. “I’ll….I’ll never forgive you if you don’t.”

Warren’s answering chuckle was watery and filled with emotion. “Well, I can’t have that, now can I?”

The two teens stood there staring at each other for a minute longer, before Warren pulled Kurt into a long hug. When they pulled back, he leaned in to give Kurt a light peck on the lips.

“For luck,” he whispered.

Kurt stared at him a moment before leaning back in to kiss him back, firmly, yet chastely. When he pulled away, Warren graced him with a giddy smile.

“Do that again?”

Kurt huffed. “Make it back as you promised and then ve’ll see.” That earned a full laugh from the winged mutant, which in turn caused a smile to grace Kurt’s lips.

“Warren,” came Xavier’s voice. “It’s time to go.”

The two sobered immediately, pausing a moment before making their way over to the group, hand in hand. No one made any comment on the exchange between the two, but from how Jean and Ororo were beaming and smirking at them respectively, they’d definitely seen it. They made no efforts to hide how pleased they were with it.

One by one, the others came up to wish Warren luck, reassuring him that they’d all be behind him and helping to watch out for him. He felt his heart swell as Ororo embraced him, Peter slapped his back and gave him a high five, and Jean graced him with a smile. Finally, Scott approached. Kurt tensed beside Warren. The two stared at each warily a moment.

“….so. I just wanted to say that I know you’ll pull this off,” Scott said, mumbling awkwardly.

“Obviously,” Warren scoffed, a smirk tugging at his lips. This brought a slight smile to Scott’s face.

“And there’s the ego.” He deflated a moment later. “Look man, about what I said yesterday….I’m sorry. Really. That was a dick move, and I can’t believe it came out of my mouth. I shouldn’t have used that against you like that. You’ve earned your spot on this team and earned everyone’s trust, including mine. I just want you to know that.”

“…..Don’t do it again, but….you’re forgiven. And….thanks, Summers.” Scott nodded, and held his hand out. They shook hands briefly.

Finally, it was time to go. The hangar door opened to let him out. He moved over in front of it, followed by his friends. He turned back one last time, looking at each of his teammates and instructors in turn, before finally settling on Kurt.

“I’ll be back. Wait for me.” He called.

“Natürlich,” Kurt replied.

With one last grin, he extended his wings, and flew out, leaving the manor for the first time since his arrival.
••••••••••••••
“What the fuck, Warren?! What happened to-what the fuck?!”

Warren had Shiro Yoshida in a fireman’s carry around both his shoulders. The other mutant was out cold, and Warren himself was very singed-looking, a few holes burnt in his suit and a black eye and trickle of blood from his nose proof of a struggle that went down.

“He was being difficult,” he said, by way explanation as he laid the mutant down in the copter and climbed in. “Not to mention obnoxious and a pain in the ass. So I decided to just knock him out and bring him here to speed up the whole process of getting him in the copter and get us home, and save all of us from having to deal with his bullshit the whole trip back. You’re welcome.”

Hank sighed. “We have a no abduction policy, Warren! No mutant should ever be forced to come to the institute if they don’t want to! I thought we’d made that clear!”

“He wasn’t cooperating! I told him what was up, and he agreed to come with but then he started being a little punk about his powers! What’d you expect me to do?!”

Hank simply shook his head, deciding to pick his battles. “Whatever. Get some rest, you look like you need it. It’s going to be a long flight back.”

“Gladly,” Warren murmured, already curling up in one of the seats in the back.
•••••••••••••
“Vhat happened to you?! Are you alright?! Are you hurting?!”

Warren had barely set foot off the copter before he was being tackled by a very concerned Kurt.

“I’m fine, just a little singed. Shiro and I just had a little conflict that’s all. Explosive personalities, big clashes, no big deal,” he tried to reassure him.

Kurt simply sniffed. “Your vings are all dirty again! I’ll have to fix them after you get looked over for injuries,” he muttered. Warren grinned.

“Oh yeah?”

“Go have your wounds looked at, Varren.”

“Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“I made it back in one piece.”

“Indeed.”

“Just like I promised.”

“So you did.”

“Do I get a reward now?”

A slow smile spread across Kurt’s face.

“I suppose a small one now vould be alright.”

And as he leaned in to meet his waiting lips, Warren couldn’t help but feel completely at peace with the world.
============
So this one took a lot longer than I thought it would. Partly because I kept struggling with whether I should make it a short (ish) little stand alone kind of thing or make it a full length 3rd part to the series, and if it was a full part, what the plot would be. I eventually ended up settling on something in between, before the plot took hold and we ended up with another 3700+ word installment. I am apparently incapable of writing anything short.

I feel like I should also add that Shiro is not my character, he belongs to Marvel. I’m not super familiar with Sunfire as a character, but I’m fairly certain he was Japanese. If I messed that up, let me know and I’ll fix it! I figured though that with the mixed up timeline that DoFP caused, I could take a couple liberties with him for this and mostly leave his character alone.

So they’ve officially kissed. I’m willing to call this the end of the first part of this series at least, but if I get more ideas/requests I’d be willing to return to it with more installments of these idiots. My askbox is always open to prompts of any kind too, so feel free to drop something in there.

spookyscaryzakuulans  asked:

“I hate watching you do this to yourself.” for anyone :)

Twin blue lightsabers flashed in the darkness of the outdoor training arena, and a second later there was a clatter as the training droid fell in a heap, weapons and limbs scattering every which way. The lightsabers’ wielder spun and ducked a blow from another droid, hissing as she moved too slowly and earned a cut on her leg for her trouble. Her injury didn’t stop her from leaping overhead in a classic Ataru aerial maneuver to strike down at the droid from above, or from throwing her main-hand blade at the third droid as it tried to rush her when she landed awkwardly.

Silence descended on the training ring with the last crash of the destroyed droids, broken only by the human combatant’s heavy breathing and the hum of her weapons, and the barely-heard sound of quiet footsteps approaching the ring. “Can’t sleep?” a male voice quietly said, just barely loud enough to be heard over the lightsabers.

Xaja shook her head and deactivated her lightsabers, re-clipping them to her belt. “You’d think with the war being over and that psychopath finally out of my head, I’d quit having nightmares.”

“Dad says trauma like what you went through can stick with someone forever. Just going by some of the psychology manuals that I found on his ship, I’m pleasantly surprised you haven’t just crumpled into fetal position and gone completely insane.”

The former Jedi snorted. “That’s not out of the question yet, little brother.” She started limping over to where she’d left her robe and water bottle. “Why are you up at three in the morning?”

Sorand shrugged. “Can’t sleep either. The bed feels too empty without… without Shara.” The one-time Darth Imperius’s shoulders slumped as he entered the training arena and sat down on a bench beside Xaja’s robe. “Will you be okay if I go back to Mandalore for a bit? My kids are still with Shara’s buir… and I feel like I need to see them.”

“Of course.” Xaja nodded and took a sip from her bottle. “Your kids just lost their mom, I think they need you more than I do right now. I’ve got Theron and Lana, I can handle things.”

“Thanks.” Sorand watched his sister for another minute. “Need me to heal that?” he asked, nodding to the gash on her thigh. “Looks like it’s painful.”

“The pain’s helping me focus.” Xaja recapped her bottle and turned back to the arena. “Making me not think about…” Her voice trailed off into hesitant silence.

Sorand sighed. “I hate watching you do this to yourself, Xaja. You know none of us blame you for Vaylin attacking Odessen? That I don’t blame you for Shara dying, or Vette?”

“I can still hear her voice in my head- both of them,” Xaja snapped as she whirled, catching herself as she briefly landed poorly on her injured leg. “One of my interactions with her, she said I’d see her again, every time I closed my eyes, and kriffing hell it’s true and I can’t get away from it! And if it’s not her, it’s him, and even though I know he’s dead and can’t come back, it still feels like he’s there, always watching…” She flinched and turned away as her voice threatened to break, and for a long moment there was silence. “Sorry,” she finally said. “You didn’t need me going off on you like that. You’ve got enough osik of your own.”

“And people wonder why our family’s completely insane,” Sorand muttered. He stared down at his hands for a moment before speaking again. “I can still hear Vette screaming while I’m trying to save her. Vaylin’s always laughing.”

Xaja hadn’t even considered how bad her brother’s night terrors had to be after his attempt to save Vette while she’d gone after Torian. He’d fought Vaylin head-on before she’d gotten there. “He keeps turning into other people, people I love… you, Korin, him turning into Dad and giving me the same lecture about my weaknesses hurt.” She slumped. “Tonight he turned into Theron and…”

Sorand bitterly smirked. “Last night my old master Zash came back and reinhabited Shara’s body to torture me for killing her. I haven’t dreamed about that hag since… probably before I killed Thanaton.”

“Are we really going to keep on-upping each other with our nightmares?” Xaja asked, although there was a small, sad smile on her lips.

“Yeah, good point, this is achieving nothing besides scaring us both again.” Sorand stood up and reached for his lightsaber. “I’m pretty sure I can give you a better challenge than the droids.” He tiredly smiled. “And if this gets me too tired to dream…”

Xaja nodded and turned to face her brother. “Happy to help.” She ignited one of her blue ‘sabers, and watched Sorand’s own blade turn the air around him green. “Thanks, little brother.”

“Anytime.” Sorand settled himself into the Soresu opening position and waited until Xaja took to the sky again to strike from overhead.