recursal/Fanatic-Fandom huggingface dataset:
Tournament

The front door slams open.

""Mum!"" yells Book.

Four tiny feet skitter across tile.

"Book!" laughs Charlie

A pair of boots scuffs after them.

"Don't forget your shoes!"

Backtracking—

""Hi, Missus Charlie!"" calls Anni.

—scuffling—

"Hello, Anni!" she replies. "Say 'hi' to your dad for me."

—four thumps.

""He says 'hi'!""

The door clicks shut.

""Guess what, Mum!"" cries a rapidly approaching Book.

"What?"

"We won! We won!"

Book and Anni skid into the kitchen, red team ribbons fluttering in their hair, both incandescent with pride.

"That's awesome!" Charlie scoops Book up in a hug.

"We won all our double battles!"

"We won our whole /**division**," amends Anni with a grin.

"You guys are amazing!" Charlie crinkles her eyes. "Good thing I baked some cookies to celebrate."

"/**YAY!**"

"Izzy just took them outside to share with the rest of the team."

Book squirms free and the pair sprint for the back door.

"You can have two each," calls Charlie.

"/**Awww ....**"

The door bangs closed behind them.

Charlie smiles gently, quirks an eyebrow at Pietr. "You've created monsters."

Pietr beams, sweeps a bow.

Charlie rolls her eyes. "Ribbon looks good on you, too."

He smiles, points to the red bow at the end of Charlie's braid. 'Same to you.'

"Thought I should show some team spirit, even if I couldn't make it. Thanks for taking them."

Pietr 'pfffts'.

"Manage to record some of it?"

Holds up and waggles his phone.

"Just needs downloading, huh?"

Nods.

"Thanks a lot. J—" She covers her mouth, squeezes her eyes shut.

One.

Two.

Maybe three.

Can barely hear her own heartbeats.

Four?

Five.

Deep breath, arms down. "Jackson'll be happy to see it."

Opens her eyes to Pietr studying her face.

"What?"

He hugs her.

Charlie stiffens, clenches her teeth.

Pietr holds her gently, cradles her head; lets her go after a moment, presses his forehead against hers.

She pushes him away, sighs, rubs her eyes. "C'mon," she says, "let's get some cookies before the Pokemonsters 'eat 'em all'."

Pietr snorts, smiles encouragingly, tilts his head 'lead the way'.
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</noinclude>

Logan sits cross-legged on his bunk, hunched over what looks like his favourite green t-shirt, nail clipper in hand.

Jackson studies the scene for a moment, gives up with a shrug. "What, exactly, are you doing?"

"Answering a question." Snips at the sleeve hem.

"Ooo, mysterious."

"Fuck off."

"I didn't know you could sew." Jackson crosses his arms, leans on the doorframe. "Truly, you are a man of many talents."

Obscene gesture.

"Seriously, though. What the hell?"

Logan fishes about in the opened seam, pulls out a tiny black square, announces, "Thought so."

Jackson rolls his eyes. "It's an inventory tag."

"Yea, exactly like the /**four** I found in the standard-issue tee, down to the itty-bitty little eagle stamp."

"So?"

Up goes an eyebrow. "In a shirt that was at Nanny's house until yesterday morning?"

Jackson blinks. "When would they ...?"

"Probably between dropping us off and Officer Four-eyes bringing the stuff by." Logan smirks. "Why the rush, ye think?"

Jackson shrugs. "Don't want anything lost in the laundry?"

"Nope!" gloats Logan. "They wouldn't need transceivers in every hall if they were just looking for socks. They're tracking /**us**." Squints at the chip. "With the setup I've mapped so far, they probably know where each of us is to the meter."

"That close?" Jackson wanders over, plops onto the bed near Logan's feet.

"Maybe only within a couple of meters." Logan waves it off. "Whatever. They'll know when we're places we're not supposed to be, even if we manage to ditch our shadow."

Jackson greys. "So there's no esc—"

"Didn't say /**that**. It'll just take a little bit of thought and professional planning, is all." Logan grins. "There's no such thing as perfect security."

"You would know."

"Yep!"
The 1st House

## Minifig

The fourth time Jackson hurts himself trying to unpack/reassemble furniture/move boxes, Charlie orders him onto the couch and forbids him from leaving that spot, so he mopes there for the rest of the day because he can't help.

The next day, Charlie comes home from work and empties a canvas shopping bag over his lap.

He picks up a pack at random.

"So you can decorate without hurting yourself," says Charlie.

-Miscellaious LEGO accessories-, announces the pack.

"I love you," says Jackson.

Charlie smiles smugly. "I know."

(inspired by stormtropper with fairy wings and | the one at the computer)

## Moving

I figure they move into the new house somewhere after getting married but before Charlie gets pregnant. Since they're planning on a family, makes sense for them to be prepared for the new addition, right?
Sleepover

## Meta

**Timing:** Same night as "Intruder"

**Setting:** Jackson's flat

## Text

"Oi."

The bed shakes.

Logan groans, buries his face deeper in his pillow.

"That's not your pillow," says Jackson. "Get up."

Logan tucks his head /**under** his pillow. "Go 'way."

"Get out of my bed."

"Got 'ere first."

"I can make a certain call~."

Dial tone.

Hell, no.

Logan's hand flicks out—

"/**Oi!**"

—tucks the mobile under /**his** pillow.

""Need help in there?""

"I got this!" To Logan: "Get up. I have to work early tomorrow."

"Couch."

"I'm not playing, Logan."

"Prove it."

"Fine," snaps Jackson.

The mattress grumbles.

His pillow presses down on his head—

Logan claws at Jackson's wrist.

—a hand on his, squeezing—his /**injured** hand—

"Mother/**fucker**!"

No more weight on his back.

Logan sits up, cradles his hand to his chest. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"From you. That time I broke my arm?"

Logan smirks. "'s a pretty good trick, ay?"

"Dinnies' in the fridge."

"Not hungry."

"Don't care." Jackson points to the living room. "Out."

"Yes, sir, Captain Jack, sir." Logan flicks a mocking salute, hops to his feet, and saunters out—

Stops short centimeters from colliding with a scowling Charlie.

Logan tips an imaginary hat. "Ma'am."

Charlie, arms crossed, scoffs.

Logan blinks, scrunches his nose.

"/**What**," snaps Charlie.

"Your shirt."

"What about it."

"'s on inside-out. And backward."

Charlie looks down, plucks at her shirt. "Would ye look at that." Shoves past him into the bedroom.

The door slams.

Logan shrugs, strolls to the couch.

Studies the couch.

Contemplates the couch.

Turns away from the couch with a shudder.

Tucks up under a throw on the easy chair and quickly dozes off.

Intruder arc: Tip | Intruder | ****Sleepover****
Off-base

## Meta

**Timing:** Right before "Figure"

**Setting:** Jones' quarters

## Text

"Oh, Ja-ack!" calls Logan.

Jackson scowls from the back hall.

"Got a pressie for you~!" Logan dumps his bundle on the kitchen table.

Jackson shtumps over.

"You want out?" Logan presents the pile with a flourish. "I'm getting you out."

Jackson picks something up at random and holds the too-small jumper between thumb and forefinger. "You've /**got** to be kidding me."

Logan crosses his arms. "This is what it takes, Jack."

Jackson keeps grimacing at the jumper.

"To get out, you have to get past the tagging system. To get past the system, you need to 'be' someone else—someone with permission to be off-base."

"Whose /**is** this?"

"Bubbles'."

"/**What?!**"

Logan shrugs. "She's the only one in this place who can 'visit' us without throwing up red flags at security."

Jackson smirks. "'cuz everyone's convinced you're sleeping with her."

Logan shudders, then brightens. "'cept for the ones betting you're cheating on Charlie."

Jackson blinks, scandalized. "People /**actually** think that?"

"Oh, yea."

"You're shitting me."

"Nope," smirks Logan.

Jackson flounders. "Well, I overhead a bunch of techs putting money on when the two of you will be caught snogging in a maintenance closet."

Logan wrinkles his nose, shakes his head clear. "Just get dressed, Jack. You can change into something more flattering when you get home."
Red Sky scraps

## Static

Jackson hums tunelessly under his breath as Jupiter cries into his shoulder.

"How's dinner?" asks Charlie.

"It's barely after two."

Charlie queries from the table.

"You asked about dinner?"

"I didn't say anything."

Jackson nods.

Charlie frowns, stands, rests her hand against his forehead. "You're a little warm." Eases Jupiter from his arms. "Lie down for a bit?"

"Good idea."

## Flare

A tap on his shoulder.

Pietr blinks awake, turns around.

::We're here!:: signs Izzy.

Pietr nods around his yawn, sits properly just in time to see Jackson leave the Darling-Jones house, Jupiter dozing in his arms, and wave.

Pietr waves, twists back around.

::Thank you very much!:: signs Book.

::Thank you!:: waves Baby.

Pietr bids farewell, as do Izzy, Anni, Rika, and Fenna.

Grief touches his arm. "Say 'hi' to your parents for us."

"We will!" promises Book, hopping out, Baby two steps behind. They bounce up the driveway and mob Jackson's legs, then he cues them to wave goodbye as Griet drives away.

A hand on his wrist.

Pietr blinks awake.

::We're here,:: smiles Griet.

Pietr smiles back, 'thank you', manages to get himself out of the car.

[Kids are unbuckled, door is unlocked, alarm is unarmed, Griet does her beans-are-home-from-school routine, Pietr cleans out their backpacks and finds three copies of the CDL's notice.]

Uh oh.

Pietr shows it to Griet.

::I'll call the school,:: says Griet. ::You'll text Jackson?::

Pietr nods, already digging out his mobile.

pvos: we hve a situation

pvos: check book/babys bckpck

cptnjejones: roger

Pietr resumes unpacking bags.

cptnjejones: you speak of scarlet fever, y?

pvos: y

cptnjejones: o dear

cptnjejones: fingers crossed ay?

pvos: vry vry crossed

cptnjejones: first things first, ill talk to charlie, find out what we'll do with jupiter in case one of our people catches it

pvos: roger

cptnjejones: awesome

cptnjejones: thanks for the heads up!

pvos: yr welcome!
Snicket scraps

## Growl

**Timing:** between "Volunteered" and "Job"; **Setting:** the bathroom of Logan's flat

snicket watches sorta-snicket without threat just inside touching range chin resting on paws like sorta-snicket curls chin on paws in a corner of the room where it rains with eyes closed and sorta-snicket growled at snicket when snicket tried to touch for the first time since first day so snicket stays away and watches while sorta-snicket smells hurt and breathes with a wheeze but snicket can't do anything to stop sorta-snicket's hurt except touch and purr but sorta-snicket growled so snicket stays away and watches and waits
Relations

Setting
 Arc / track
 Initiating author
 Notes

At [twelve-twelve], Mal lets herself out the back door of the hotel; something grabs her hair and yanks her back and against a wall. She winces, tries getting the weight off her hair.

The something lets go a little.

"Your relationship to Edison Clark?" asks the person holding her hair.

Mal blinks.

"Ms Iyengar?"

"You got my name right."

"I try. You relationship with Mr Clark?"

"My relationship—what the /**fuck** did that motherfucker mess me up in?"

"Depending on what you know, nothing."

"What I know? His mobile, his favourite room number, and that I'm not going to have a fucking thing to do with him ever again."

"And Logan Jones?"

"[Him], too? I swear to god—"

"Ms Iyengar."

"I don't know! [He's stupid enough to hang out with Ed?]"

"Thank you very much, Ms Iyengar." Person steps back. "Would you allow me to offer you a ride home for this [inconvenience?"

"How about you take me to those assholes so I can kick 'em in balls instead?"

The person makes a noise which might, barely, qualify as a chuckle. "Mr Clark and Mr Jones are in no shape for visitors at the moment. I can, however, take you to someone capable to transmitting a message to Mr Jones."

"Perfect. Let's go."

Person inclines their head toward the black town car pulling up at the kerb.

.

The break room door slams against the wall; every head in the room swivels.]

[A very angry short] person bursts in[, heads straight for Jackson]. "Where the /**fuck** is he?"

"He is?"

Person [stabs a finger in Jackson's chest]. "Logan! [You know, your idiot brother?]" Eyes blaze. "Where is he?"

[Jackson looks about nervously.

All eyes on him and the short person.]

"Not here right now ...?"

"I swear to god, when I get my hands on him [and Ed]—I almost got knifed by some ninja in an alley!"

"Ninja ...?"

"You tell your stupid little brother that our deal's through. He can get a new contact for all I care[,] but if he tries calling me, I'm hanging up."

"Sure ...?"

Person storms out.

Jackson blinks.

Everyone else suddenly is very interested in their snacks.

"Jones?"

Jackson drags his gaze around to Dan. "Yea?"

"Who was that?"

"Never seen them before."

"Any idea what that was about?"

"No clue."

"Should I be worried about your safety?"

"I think I'll be okay."

Dan snorts into his coffee. "Your brother probably should be, though. They were /**pissed**."

"Half the city's probably pissed at my brother at any given time."

"Bit of a black sheep, ay?"

"Putting it mildly," sighs Jackson.

.

Mal strides back to the car, flounces into the backseat.

"Feel better?" asks Leung.

"Yep."

Something ugly settles in her stomach.

"He's not gonna get fired for that, ay?"

"No." Leung smiles faintly. "The firm was not hosting any clients—they rescheduled for next week—and Mr Jones' employers received last-minute box seats to the rugby game this afternoon."

"That's awfully convenient."

"Isn't it?"
Sore

## Meta

**Timing:** about a week after "IV"

**Setting:** DCaMP

## Text

"How're we feeling today, Officer Collocott?" burbles Nurse Minty opening the curtains over Blossom's big windows.

"Really sleepy," yawns Blossom, "and my tummy's sore."

Minty's expression changes ... brightens? "Oh? Like you're going to throw up?"

"Nah. More like—" Pause. "—like it did before I had my appendix out. Right here." Pokes a spot, grimaces.

"Ooooo." Minty taps her tablet. "We better get you down to Imaging and take a look at that."

Blossom's stomach drops. "Wha?"

"It's probably nothing, but there's an /**itty-bitty** chance your tumor's grown a /**tiny** bit and's pressing against something."

Blossom swallows. "O-okay."

"I'm sure it's nothing." Minty squeezes her shoulder. "I'll be right back with a wheelchair and we can get going."

.

Minty leaves her with an ultrasound tech.

"'morning, Officer."

"'morning," murmurs Blossom.

"You know the drill, right?"

"Y-yea."

The tech takes her arm, helps her onto the exam table. "Upsy-daisy."

Blossom flops.

"Let's get a look at your tummy." Pushes up Blossom's shirt, lavender as always. "This'll probably be a little cold."

Cringes, hisses as the chilly gel hits her skin.

The tech drags the wand around, makes sorta pleased noises about ... something.

Blossom counts ceiling tiles.

Wanding stops and the tech wipes the goo off Blossom's front, tugs her shirt back down. "The doctor will be by in a few with your results, honey."

"Mmhmm."

The tech pats her arm, pads out.

.

Doctor, uh, Speer(?) shuffles into the exam room, greets, "Good morning, Officer."

"Uh, hi."

"How're you feeling?"

"A little worried," meeps Blossom.

Checks his tablet. "Well, there /**have** been some changes—"

Blossom curls around her stomach.

"—but that sometimes happens at the start of chemo. Just to be safe, we're going to take a biopsy." Glances up, smiles kindly. "We'll knock you out to do it and you should only be a little sore for a couple of hours afterward. We'll check the cells in the lab, make sure they haven't turned into something nasty—should only take a couple of days—and pick some more effective chemo drugs if we need to. Okay?"

"O-okay."

"A nurse will move you to one of the outpatient surgical suites and we'll get started."

Blossom forces herself to take a deep breath as Minty steps through the door.
Taunt

## Meta

**Timing:** maybe a couple of weeks after "Bloom"

**Setting:** Lightcap's office, DriftSci Central, Kodiak

## Text

"You have [mail], Doctor," announces a lab monkey.

Lightcap sticks out her hand without looking away from her screen.

The lab monkey places an envelope on her palm.

Lightcap finishes reviewing the latest Solo Drift recording with a sigh, turns her attention to the envelope.

No return address, stamps from China, Australia, the United States, and—most inexplicably—France, and addressed to her full name.

She tears it open.

A [color] snapshot, nothing written on the back.

An infant with a headful of black peachfuzz, held in strong, thin arms; one hand in sight, fingernails painted cherry blossom pink.

"That fucking /**bitch.**"

A screen buzzes, 'incoming call'.

"Not now!"

""Call transferred,"" drawls the switchboard.

Lightcap unclenches her jaw.

The post monkey pokes their head in the door. "Doctor, it's—" Swallows. "—it's the admiral, ma'am."

"/**Shit.** Shit shit /**fuck**." Takes a deep breath, commands the monkey, "Get out."

The monkey flees.

"Transfer call."

""Call transferred.""

The screen snaps to life.

"Sir," greets Lightcap. "How may I help you?"

""You left a message—""

Lightcap's lips thin.

""—asking to speak with me, Doctor."" Steeples his fingers. ""You mentioned something about 'the Bud'.""

Lightcap swallows, takes a deep breath. "Yes, sir. I just received a note from whoever stole the DCaMP subject codenamed 'the Bud' and its carrier." Holds the photograph to the webcam.

""I assume that's 'the Bud'.""

"Age, hair [color], and the carrier's arms are all consistent with that being the case."

""That's the entire message?""

"Yes, sir."

""What are they trying to tell us, Doctor?""

"It ... it's a taunt, sir. They want us to know 'the Bud' was carried to term and they have it."

""And we don't.""

"Yes, sir."

""Get that picture and anything sent with it to Intelligence, highest priority.""

"Yes, sir."

""Keep me in the loop, Doctor.""

"Yes, sir."

The call disconnects and the monitor blinks to sleep mode.

Lightcap drops her head on the desk, mutters, "I'm going to get them back and /**kill** whoever did this."
Payphones Meta

\*snork\* Although, would there still be payphones in 2025? Or does he have to go into the milk bar and borrow the house phone?

I put forth the headcanon that, when the Kaiju become a problem, payphones come back in style 'cause they don't need reception or an alternative power source. Great for disaster zones! (Unless the phone line's been broken.)

Excellent point! If the lines are buried, they're pretty hard to break, unless you've got a digging Kaiju.

There's a fic where Onibaba was so hard to track because it dug. In any event, if I recall my uncle`s grumbling correctly, most of Australia`s phone lines /are buried (it's costing the government a /fortune),

It is now law that there are regularly-spaced payphones (with free 000 service) in all major coastal Australian cities.

\*fistbump\* think this deserves a headcanon post.

Do the honors!
Stacker Pentecost (meta)

## Super-Human

About "Stacker's a big-wig and a poster boy almost as soon as the program's announced", that reminds me of a niggle I've had for a while which I have attempted to put into words.

The paracanon makes him out to be involved in so many different things, I'm kinda like, 'but... the rules? World constrictions? Flaws?' It's similar to the issue I have with Gotham's Coyote.

I guess what I'm trying to figure out is Stacker's big wig-ness, especially in Turtles if Rangers are treated as disposable.

Yeah, he's /definitely given too much to do in para-canon. I'm all for scaling him back to Ranger-to-Marshal in ANSK and Turtles. And since the only things we get about Stacker's pre-2020 past in the actual canon are he was one of Coyote Tango's pilots, he fought Onibaba, he piloted solo, he's sick with something related to radiation poisoning, and he raised/trained Mako, I feel totally okay with picking and choosing out of para-canon to make his past make sense.

## Paracanon

In either 'verse, Stacker is a lieutenant forwarded from the RAF.

### RAAF

Why is a lieutenant with the RAF fulfilling the role of an RAAF sergeant's commanding officer? It  seems doubtful that he informed Herc of Angela's death (we have them not knowing each other until later).

Herc's CO tells Herc Angela is confirmed (or presumed, whichever) dead.

### Consultant

Is he still a consultant on the Jaeger project? Are all the top candidates consultants? How is a lieutenant a consultant on a multi-national consultant on a project he has no way/'reason' to be involved in?

None of the early candidates are consultants: at most, they're lined up as test subjects like Adam Casey and Sergio D'onofrio. The consultants all come from higher ranks.

### Proposal

Does he still propose the 'whacking each other with sticks' for Compatibility? I suppose, as a student, that's plausible.

Whacking each other with sticks comes from someone else, one of those consultants.
Thief

Charlie blinks awake feeling something amiss.

Specifically, all of the blankets on her bed.

She sits up and looks around the dim room.

The blankets have gathered in a roughly Jackson-sized pile on the other side of the mattress.

Charlie pokes the lump with a foot.

It makes a arguably human noise.

"Jones?" She nudges it.

An annoyed grunt.

"Jones." Jabs it.

It shifts, pulls itself into a denser arrangement.

Charlie huffs, searches for an opening in the blankets.

No luck.

She pokes it again. "How're you even breathing under there?"

It suddenly, very clearly, /**isn't** breathing.

"Jackson?"

The pile spasms violently—

Charlie barely dodges what might be a foot.

—tips off onto the floor and continues to flail for several seconds.

Jackson finally fights his way free.

Charlie loses her fight with a laugh.

Jackson looks up at her blearily, rasps, "Oh. Uh, hi?"

"Hi."

He startles a little, then breaks into a dopey grin. "Hi."

"Little cold for you in here?"

"Huh?"

"You stole all the blankets."

"Oh! Sorry! I didn't—"

Charlie rolls her eyes. "Relax, Jones. I should've expected it from a guy who wears two or three jumpers at a time."

Jackson rubs his neck. Looks down at himself. "I, uh, yea, usually sleep with more on."

"Maybe you should leave some PJs here, just in case."

Jackson blinks a couple of times, beams. "I /**am** awake, right?"

Charlie cocks an eyebrow. "As far as I know. Why?"

His smile must be hurting his cheeks. "No reason."
Similar Boats

## Meta

**Date:** 2023, after the start of the first school semester, maybe late February. The ficlet before Playdate scraps

**Setting:** park in the Shatterdome's satellite neighbourhood.

## Text

Jamie and Griet make themselves comfortable at the shady picnic table with the best view of the pond.

"You're /**sure** this is a good adea?" Griet refills her mug with tar black coffee from her thermos. "Pieta's bumped into her et daycare; she just gla'es et him." >would griet still be drinking coffee?<

Jamie smiles encouragingly over his travel cup, rests his elbows on the table. "I think you two will get on like a house on fire."

Griet snorts. "Thet's a good thing?"

"An /**excellent** thing."

"Jamie ...."

"Whether Charlie thinks so or not, she needs you."

Griet quirks an eyebrow and takes a sip.

Jamie's eyes twinkle. "You won't take her crap and that makes you rare."

"Oh?"

"She's kinda scary."

"Ah smell a story." Griet smirks. "You found this out first-hend."

"he greeted me with a choke-hold."

Griet blinks. "End you think she needs /**me**? Sounds lak she gets on fan on her own."

Jamie shakes his head. "In a fight, sure, but she's got two little curly-tops to raise and their dad and the love of her life spends more time than any of them--including him--like on the job at the Shatterdome. She needs another mum who gets it." Grins. "Who won't take her crap."

Griet laughs. "Ah ken probably handle thet."

[missing bit; Jamie leaves]
Enter the Vos family! (meta)

## Called In

### The Supervisor

;;Both of you broke the rules and there will have to be consequences. I'll speak with my supervisor as to what they should be. For now, you may return to daycare.;;

who would be the daycare director's supervisor? just curious.

The person running the entire fluffle department. It sounds like precedents will be involved (ie checking one or making a new one).

### Transparent, Proud

";;Ranger Jones, your help has been noted.;;

Pietr beams.

The Ranger shrugs."

The PPDC being 'transparent', making the underlings proud of their Rangers.

### Escort

"Underhill unfolds her hands, lays them flat on the desk. ;;Officers, children, you are dismissed. Ranger Jones, a moment please.;; "

Underhill asking him to wait for an escort if this happens again.

## Follow-up

If there's a chunk when they're at home, Pietr'll ask Izzy if he got a chance to thank Logan and Izzy'll tell him about Baby.

I was thinking there might be a follow-up chunk. What do you see Izzy noticing about Baby?

They're eating dinner, I think:
::Did you get a chance to thank Ranger Jones?:: asks Pietr.
Izzy cringes. ::Sorta?:: Shrugs. ::Got two words out then this other kid pulled him away. Guess he's in the same group 'cause I saw the kid earlier.::

\*makes offering to personal word muse for Izzy cuteness\*

## "Engendered"

The title will need to change, since the incident that inspired it hit the recycle bin. DX

What was the incident (involving Morgan, I imagine) that inspired the title?

The original Morgan incident: This is the third iteration of this scene. The first version was set the next year when Morgan and Izzy were attending a non-PPDC school which is less open, accepting, and inclusive when it comes to nonbinary gender behaviors. The fight was the same, but the office portion had Pietr and Izzy being scolded for not conforming and 'inviting trouble.' The second version was at the Shatterdome, but had Izzy and Anni interacting with Book. Izzy undid his own hair to use the ribbons in Book's hair. Morgan comes over and starts trouble with Izzy for doing 'girl things' and having 'girl hair.' I finished it and realized Book would /never wander away from Jackson this early in the daycare experience and the fight never would've gotten far enough for Pietr to be called if Jackson was right there. So I tossed it. The old title came from the way the gender binary thing was more pronounced in those versions.
Tang clan scraps

## Shipping

The girl sits up groggily. 「What happened?」

「Dunno,」 says Hu.

Cheung hands her a bottle of water.

「Thanks.」 She cracks it open, takes a drink.

「Are we concerned that might be poisoned?」 asks Jin.

She chokes. 「Poisoned?!」 she croaks. 「You just poisoned me?」

「Better you than us,」 says Cheung.

「I’m going to die. Heaven help me, I’m going to die.」

「Did it taste weird?」 asks Hu.

「How’m I supposed to remember after a bombshell like that?」
Night Light

## Meta

**Timing:** after "Bridge"

**Setting:** the 1st house

## Text

Charlie scrubs at the mixing bowl, shifts her grip, and gets her elbow behind the sponge.

"Charlie, love?"

The bowl flies from her grasp.

"You need to sleep, Charlie," Nanny says gently.

Charlie retrieves the bowl. "Can't sleep."

"In your bed?"

Charlie's brow furrows. "Yea?"

"That's the problem, love, it's not /your bed, it's your and Jack's bed, and you're not going to fall asleep in it without him."

Charlie sets down the bowl.

Nanny gently turns Charlie away from the sink. "Get a pillow and a blanket and put yourself down in the nursery." Squeezes her shoulders. "You'll feel better in the morning."

Charlie nods sluggishly, tromps upstairs, to her and Jackson's room, to his side of the bed. She folds up the quilt, takes his pillow, and steps softly down the hall and into the nursery.

Both babies sleep soundly in the soft dark of the *Moya* nightlight.

Book yawns, snuggles more closely with Wom-wom.

Baby snuffles.

Charlie puts down Jackson's pillow and the quilt. She tucks in Book's blanket, presses a kiss to something in the cranial region, keeps herself from smoothing back all. that. hair. (she doesn't want to wake her little Booklet up.) so she scratches Wom-Wom's ears instead.

She tiptoes across the room, kisses Baby's forehead.

Baby's eyes crack open and Baby's face folds into a sleepy beam.

Charlie straightens the sheet, runs her thumbs over Baby's soft cheeks.

Baby coos.

Charlie whispers, "Sleep tight, my darling."

Baby exhales a happy sigh and puffy eyes slide shut.

Charlie steps back, arranges Jackson's pillow on the rug, curls up the quilt, and inhales.
Zhang Pang Xia

Pronouns
 Birthday
 Romantic & sexual orientation
 Language(s)
 Ethnicity
 Build
 Hair
 Eyes
 Children
 Sibling(s)

## Brief Biography

Born into a large family in Shanghai, Pang Xia has always been very strong-willed and independent.

In her early twenties, she was sexually involved with an older man and eventually became pregnant. Her lover refused to marry her and she refused to abort the fetus. To avoid family shame, her parents arranged a marriage for her to the son of a family friend who had moved to Australia for work.

Pang Xia's husband had thoroughly assimilated to Australian culture, which often brought him into conflict with the much more traditional and conservative Pang Xia. Despite her earnest efforts, her children never developed a strong connection to their Chinese heritage. She is especially disappointed that all of her children married white Australians, rather than spouses of Chinese descent.

She is very happy to learn, therefore, of her granddaughter Blossom's marriage to a Chinese Shanghai native, even if she is not pleased he is a member of the Tang clan, which she considers a family of criminals. Blossom names her son 'Yun' in honour of Pang Xia: 'Xia' means 'red clouds' or 'dawn glow' and 'Yun' means 'cloud' or 'born in the clouds'.

## Quirks

* speaks slightly broken, idiosyncratic English; often referring to herself in the third person ('your mama')
* deep-seated dislike for members of the Tang clan; believes all Tangs in Australia have Triad ties

## Relationships

* Blossom (granddaughter); Button (great-grandson)
Virtue

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</noinclude>

Bubbles sidles over to Rika where she daintily sorts packets of stickers and crouches to her level. "Any luck?"

"Some." Rika frowns. "Skinny ones must be cooler than fluffy ones right now, though, and they're just not as cute." Places another packet on what's apparently the 'nope' pile with a long-suffering sigh.

The corners are precisely aligned.

Bubbles shakes her head, drawls, "Say, did I hear right that you can open locked doors?"

"Mmhmm." Scrutinizes a packet.

"Can you unlock your Uncle Logan's door?"

"Mmhmm." Packet joins the 'nopes'.

"Would you open his door for me?" Beams and bats her eyelashes.

Next packet. "He'll be mad at you if I do."

Bubbles waves dismissively. "I can handle Buttercup."

Stickers to the 'yes's.

"You're sure?" Rika's not buying it.

"I've known him since before your brother was born. I'll be /**fine**."

Rika shrugs, 'If you say so,' indicates the 'yes' pile. "These are all the cute ones."

"Cool!" chirps Bubbles, scooping them into her basket. "Let's see how your sisters did with the plushies and then let's go get ice cream."

"Ice cream!"

Bubbles takes Rika's hand in hers and they skip off.

.

Logan strolls home from an afternoon at the splash park with Jack's beans and the bluey, unlocks the door, steps inside.

Does a quick sweep, stomps back out--

Snicket watches him go from the back of his majestic mount.

--straight to the nearest payphone. Quarters in slot, newly memorized number stabbed in.

""Bubbles' House of Fun~!""

"Why's my flat covered in unicorns?"

""What're you talking about?""

"I can hear you laughing, so I know it's you. Unicorns. My flat. Why."

""Oh my god! It's /**true**!""

Logan blinks.

""They /**are** attracted to virgins!""

Sets his teeth. "Alright, Quinn, it's /**on**."

""Do your worst, Buttercup,"" snickers Bubbles.

Slams down the phone.

Supplies. He needs supplies.
Unwanted

## Meta

**Timing:** ~2006

**Setting:** Port Macquarie high school and the Jones residence

This may happen in ANSK as well. I can't see it clearly there, though.

## Text

She pushes him back into the space beneath the stairs, palms flat against his chest, until his shoulder blades collide with the wall.

Logan swallows, fights his urge to—

Melody drapes her arms around his neck, stretches herself against him, breasts pressed tight to his chest. "I've waited absolutely /**forever** for this," she purrs.

His hands flutter at his sides.

She digs her fingers into his nape, kisses the corner of his mouth, kisses his lips, kisses him deeply.

Logan digs his nails into his palms.

Melody hums; she kisses and kisses and there are sounds and spit and more kisses and Logan's heart thumps so hard she /**must** feel it.

She drags her nails down his uniform shirt, smiles into a kiss as he shivers.

Her fingers find the fastening of his trousers.

His stomach rebels, throat tightens.

He jerks his head back so sharply it /*crack*s against the wall. "Melody ... stop," he croaks.

She's managed the button, tugs—

He grabs her wrists, forces them down and to her sides. "/**Stop.**"

An eternal, frozen half-minute.

"Logan, you're hurting me," she whimpers.

He yanks his hands away.

Melody steps back, eyes filling with sparks. "The other girls are right: you /**are** a freak!" She spins on her heel and runs off.

Logan sags against the wall, waits seven minutes for his breathing to return to normal before slinking home by the long, quiet way, halting once, shaking too violently to walk, to retch.

He lifts a coke from a milk bar to wash the taste from his mouth.

Dad and Mum are waiting for him when he strolls into the kitchen; Mum perches on a chair looking like she's chewed a lemon, Dad's twitching and pacing.

"Melody Kern's parents called," spits Dad.

Logan jerks to a stop, leans against the counter, crosses his arms.

"She arrived home late with great ugly bruises around both her wrists. Says you grabbed her so hard she thought you'd break her arms."

Scoffs.

"You assaulted a /**girl**!"

Glares, jaw tight.

"Don't you feel at /**all** sorry?"

Replies with a bland look.

Mum rolls her eyes. "He /**can't** feel remorse, Michael; we've been over this. He's incapable of empathy. It's part of his pathology."

Dad turns his attention to her. "So we're stuck raising a monster, ay?" Throws up his hands. "/**You're** the psychologist, why don't you do something to fix him?"

"He can't /**be** fixed. He inherited a predisposition to sociopathy from /**your** family."

"So this is /**my** fault?!"

{And they're off to the races.}

Logan rolls his eyes, creeps to the back door and into the yard. He hops the fence and sets out to find his own meal in town.
The Jumper

[Wardrobe's in the 'garage', hair/makeup are kinda the laundry room/kind of an addition; Charlie's getting her hair done.]

"Alright, Baby," coos the stylist. "Let's get you changed." And goes for the jumper.

Baby /**screams**.

Jackson hops over, scoops Baby up. "It's okay," he soothes, presses a kiss to Baby's crown. "You're okay."

Baby wails, clings to the jumper.

The stylist/wardrobe assistant flees.

"We're gonna put you in different clothes, k?"

A furious head shake.

"You don't want different clothes?"

Baby sobs.

"You'll get /**your** clothes back, promise."

Baby blubbers into the jumper.

"That's not it, either?"

Another head shake.

"Charlie?"

""Try something of Book's!""

"Book?"

"Dad?" says Book, legs a-swinging, sitting like a noble in a very large chair.

"Will you help me get Baby changed?"

"Changed into what?"

A stylist tries to do /**something** with Book's hair.

"Uh," Jackson sets Baby down in a chair. "Different clothes?"

Baby flies off under a table.

"Are they mine?"

"No?" Jackson crouches down, peers through the gloom.

"Are they yours?"

"Don't think they'd fit." Jackson forces every bit of stress from his face and smiles.

"Mum's?"

"Nope, they're Baby's." Jackson reaches out. "Please, sweetheart?"

Baby wails, curls protectively around the jumper.

"Do you want to keep wearing your jumper?"

Baby howls.

""It used to belong to Book?"" Charlie offers.

"Do you want to keep wearing Book's jumper?"

Baby quietens.

"Do you want to wear my jumper?"

Baby nods [sulkily/wetly/miserably].

"Easy enough done," Jackson replies cheerily, pulling his off. "Here you are."

Baby shuffles forward, crawls inside, gets all nicely tucked in.

"Wanna come out from the table, now?" asks Jackson.

The jumper nods.

Jackson gathers the lot up.

"I heard we had a problem with wardrobe?" asks [head of wardrobe].

Jackson bounces Baby. "All solved." Kisses what seems to be Baby's head.

"That is /**so** /**cute**!" squeaks [a wardrobe assistant].

"Wasn't a fan, then?" says [head of wardrobe].

Baby snuffles.

"Not in the least."

"We can work with this," says [head of wardrobe]. "Someone get me my sewing kit!"
Storage

[Cheung, Jin, and Hu woke up in a small, dark something; while feeling around the wall, a panel pops open and they roll out into a loud storage car. Liu arrives moments later and explains that he's kidnapped them for their own good.]

"Why are you doing this?" asks Jin.

"Those people were going to kill you," replies Liu.

"They were /**going** to build us a three-way Drift," says Hu.

"They were," Liu nods. "And in doing so, they were going to kill you."

"Do you have proof?" asks Cheung.

"I do."

"Are you going to show us?" asks Hu.

"I would prefer not to."

"Why?" asks Jin.

"What those people have perpetrated makes /**my** stomach turn, and I'm a mob boss."

The triplets exchange looks.

"Will you give us a minute?" asks Hu.

"Of course." Liu stands. "Lunch will be served in half an hour."
Sticky

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</noinclude>

The courier's tablet whines at the pressure Charlie inflicts on its screen with the stylus.

She frowns.

"Uh, more gently, please?" squeaks the courier.

Charlie gives them a Look.

The courier swallows, shifts their weight back.

The tablet /*beep*s its acceptance of Charlie's second signature.

"Thanks, Mx." The courier smiles weakly, slinks off.

Charlie closes the door, trumps to the home office—does. not. see. Jackson's dinosaurs—tears open the thick packet.

The text of the sheets of white paper are so many meaningless squiggles because there's a little yellow sticky note on the front page decorated with Jackson's loopy handwriting.

- Firefly, please sign these. I'll explain later. Love you!!! —JJ -

Charlie brushes her fingertips across the note, feels the minute indentations the pen left in the paper.

Her eyes flutter closed.

"He's okay," she murmurs.
VS Series (meta)

> "It's all about /**endurance** with them. They were designed as long-distance patrol units. They're /**super** fuel efficient—they- they're fucking /**wolves**—run you down and /**nibble** you to death."
>
>

> --Cameryn Lapasa, Jaegerspotter
>
>

## VS-01

* **Name:** *Vandal Savage*
* **Home 'Dome:** Sydney
* **Origin:** New construction
* **Pilots:** Lachlan Riley (RH), Jason Egan (LH)
* **Team colour:** Royal blue
* **Entered service:** January 2017
* **Removed from service:** March 2022

## VS-02

* **Name:** *Victoria Sur*
* **Home 'Dome:** Lima
* **Origin:** New construction
* **Pilots:**
* **Team colour:**
* **Entered service:** 2017
* **Removed from service:** 2021 (written off [pilots killed]; salvaged and spare parts transferred to VS-01 and VS-03)

## VS-03

* **Name:** *Vorpal Spirit*
* **Home 'Dome:** Anchorage
* **Origin:** New construction
* **Pilots:** TBD May (RH), TBD May (LH)
* **Team colour:** Silvery blue
* **Entered service:** 2017
* **Removed from service:** early 2024 (written off [pilots killed]; salvaged and spare parts transferred to VS-04)

## VS-04

* **Name:** *Vulcan Specter*
* **Home 'Dome:** Sydney
* **Origin:** Rebuilt VS-01
* **Pilots:** Logan Jones (RH), Jackson Jones (LH)
* **Team colour:** Smoke gray
* **Entered service:** September 2022
* **Removed from service:** January 2025
Spectacle

The first time it happens, Charlie doesn't know quite what to think: she hadn't /**lost** her glasses (she doesn't lose things) and Jackson doesn't need them. She chalks their disappearance up to being stolen and gets a new pair.

The second time it happens, the case isn't where she left it but on the counter.

After the third time her glasses go missing, Logan has a purple smudge over his ear.

Charlie smirks, paints the frames bright pink.

(Also for the record, Charlie walked around for a week with a purple smudge over /her ear, but her hair covered it up XD )
SwanCon 47

As to whether SwanCon has a Masquarade, I couldn't tell you.

https://2016.swancon.com.au//

## Meta

Timing: April 2nd, 2022

Setting: Sydney Convention Center

## Text

""Our next entry is a family affair and our biggest group cosplay this--""

Book shoots on stage--

The auditorium coos.

--Derek tearing after, scooping, and hurrying back to wing.

""I was going to say of Joss Whedon's much beloved and criticized *Firefly* series, but you've probably guessed that, so here is the Darling-Jones family for the Novice category!""

[I would really like there to be a skit but I have no words.]
Sean Rise

The Golden Boy

* **Full name:** Sean Charles Rise
* **Pronouns:** He-him-his
* **Height:** 6'0" (when fully grown)
* **Build:** Medium
* **Hair:** Red, straight
* **Eyes:** Blue
* **Lifemate:**
* **Children:**
* **Sibling(s):**
* **Parents:** Amelia Allaway, Scott Hansen; adopted by a lesbian couple who eventually move with him to The Village
* **Birthday:** 31 Aug 2020 (Likely, CA, United States)
* **Language:** American English (mother tongue), Australian English (native speaker), Standard Chinese (fluent; eventually)
* **Ethnicity:** White American
* **Nicknames**
* **Relationships:** Baby (friend), Anni (friend), Izzy (friend), Book (friend), Rika (friend), Fenna (friend), Jupiter (friend), Chuck ('uncle'), Jackson ('uncle'), Charlie ('aunt'), Logan ('uncle'), Pietr ('uncle'), Griet ('aunt'), Jason ('uncle'), Derek ('uncle'), Andrea ('aunt')
* **Special skills:**
* **Quirks:**
* **Distinguishing marks:**
Somewhere Else

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</noinclude>

Something pats Logan's cheek.

He grumbles, swats in the source's general direction.

Nothing.

Logan oozes deeper into his pillow.

Patting resumes.

Logan growls, swats harder.

"/*Mrow*."

Swats.

"/*Mrow*."

"Fu' u'f."

"/*Mrow*."

Logan hisses—

Snicket flies off the bed, skitters across the floor.

—throws himself upright. He rubs his eyes.

What the hell is wrong with the damn cat?

Banging.

The hell?

Banging on the door.

Someone clearly has a death wish.

And if old MacDonald across the hall doesn't grant it, Logan gladly will.

He snags a t-shirt from the floor, yanks it over his head, shtumps to the door.

Two tries and Logan manages the locks, flings it open.

"Where's the baby?" Someone shoves past.

"Th' fuck?" Rubs his eyes some more, croaks, "Bubbles?"

Bubbles vanishes around the corner. ""Baby. Where's the baby?""

Logan sets off in pursuit. "The fuck ...?"

"Where's the baby?" Bubbles turns, hands on hips, mouth in a thin line. "Where's /**your** baby?"

Logan stares at the carpet.

"Buttercup? Are you okay?"

Logan is lying on the carpet. "'m fine." Pushes himself up to sitting. "What're you on about?"

Bubbles crouches to eye level. "Where's Button?"

"Not here." Scrubs his face. "Why are /**you** here?"

"I'm done being a Ranger so I want to start being the best auntie /**ever**."

Logan sighs. "He's somewhere else."

"/**Obviously.**" Pokes Logan's chest. "Tell me."

Swats, glares. "China. They're in China."

"What? /**Why?**"

Logan rolls his eyes. "They /**live** there." Pries himself off the rug.

"But—!"

"China," yawns Logan. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"W-when will they be back?" whines Bubbles.

"July." Bigger yawn. "Probably."

"Oh, no /**fair**."

Logan grabs her arm, tows her to the foyer, stuffs her through the door. "Out."

"But—!"

"Come back in July." Yawns. "Or after lunch."

"But—!"

Shuts the door, throws the bolt—

""Catloaf!""

The fuck?

Snicket shrugs.

""We're talking about this later, Buttercup!""

Logan grumbles back to bed, buries his head in his pillow.

Snicket curls up on the small of his back, purrs.
Operation Pitfall

Pentecost and Herc rock-paper-scissors for the right hemisphere of Striker. They're more Compatible than Pentecost and Chuck.

Striker, Danger, and Alpha drop.

**0710 HKT, 5 January 2025: Jaegers drop from Jumphawks.** James Cameron's dive to the bottom of Challenger Deep took 2hrs 36min.

**0945 HKT, 5 January 2025: Battle of the Breach begins**. Just spitballing walking time.

Alpha is Raiju and Scunner's first target. Alpha's immobilized, but the Kaidanovskys use the spring-loaded escape pod to stun Scunner while Raiju makes for Danger.

Alpha's Conn-pod has airbags and up they go.

Raiju realizes its buddy is a little behind schedule and circles until Scunner stops seeing stars and the rest of the fight goes down as it does on film.

**1xxx HKT, 5 January 2025: Escape pods launch from Jaegers.** James Cameron's emergency ascent from Challenger Deep took 70min.

If we have to add time to account for Hermann and Newt to be rushing back to the Shatterdome, the intelligence-gathering time pressure thing, we’ll make time!

Chuck has to watch the whole thing from the command center on the aircraft carrier.

Pietr picks up on his distress and KATAMARI!!

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