Lemons

Amygdala Circuit

Quinn wasn't exactly sure how long she and Dahlia stood there, wrapped around each other. It could've--was probably--only a few minutes, but time felt like it had come unbuttoned from the rest of the world. Like everything was on pause, and she and her sister were the only things left moving in the whole universe; everything else just faded away, and the entire world hinged around the two of them.

"I love you too," she sobbed, clutching tighter, clinging on for dear life. "I'll always come back."

What Dahlia said might not have been as powerful--though of course, anything Dahlia did was powerful for Quinn--but not that powerful, if Quinn hadn't also thought that she was going to die. Right around the time that the rifle Modir blasted her fingers off, she became convinced that she wasn't going to make it out of there. It was only the intervention of Axan Dane--

Though she was loathe to pull away from Dahlia, she did, just a little. She kept in contact, but pulled her head back enough that she could look her sister in her equally tearful eyes. She wanted to ask about the ESC pilot, the woman that had dropped from the sky like a meteorite to save her life. But looking her in her eyes, she realized that she didn't want to talk about her. She didn't want to pull Dahlia's attention everywhere. All she wanted to do, all she cared even the slightest whit about at that moment, was getting checked up by Doctor Follen and then spending as much time with her family as was physically possible.

But that was something that could come in a bit, and she could take when it came. Because at this exact moment, the only thing she cared about in the world was hugging Dahlia.

So, only a moment after she pulled back to see the worry and relief in her eyes...that's what she did.

Amygdala Circuit

Quinn blinked owlishly as she overlooked the hangar. Half from the sudden brilliant light with her pupil the size of a dinner plate, half from exhaustion, it was all a little...surreal. Not the least of which, well, the applause. The cheering. The people in hazmat suits surrounding her, bringing the cheering even closer--she couldn't help but grin when she recognized Tillie. It reminded her of that time she went down for the interview and all the fans were there waiting with signs of Ablaze. Except these weren't fans--or, at least that kind of fan. These were people she worked with, people hat she talked to on a semi-regular basis since she started her daily visits. It brought a sudden surge of warmth to her chest. She took a few unsteady-ish steps over to the railing and waved out at the people down below, and the cheering redoubled.

And then, of course--

"Quinn!"

Quinn's exhausted eye sprang open as she spied her sister, and the fear that she'd felt down there--that she'd never see her again--once again was at the forefront of her mind. But there she was. A little rough, but there she was!

Tired as she was, she still whirled on her heel in a more coordinated feat than she usually would've been capable of, then bulled straight through the technicians and onto the lift. She hopped from foot to foot, suddenly filled with nervous energy that had previously eluded her after the adrenaline had dropped. She needed to be on the ground, now!

After what felt like eons, she finally, finally stepped down on the hangar floor again. It had barely been a few minutes since she'd been here last, really; yet it felt like hours, days, in large part because of who was waiting for her. Largely ignoring the cheering onlookers, she jammed right through them as well until she eventually arrived at her destination.

Walking up in front of the injured Dahlia, Quinn felt an absurdly powerful urge to throw her arms around her and tackle her to the ground and never ever let go. But, again, she was injured, so that was right out. Instead, she walked slowly up to her and wrapped her arms tightly around her, weaving around and avoiding the shoulder and arm and burying her head in the opposite crook of her neck the same way she always did, if significantly more gentle.

"I'm home."

She was so happy she didn't even realize she was sobbing.

Arknights: 5S

Aoife patch note 1.1: Theme song added.

Arknights: 5S

Ooooh new people hopefully! We love to see it!

Amygdala Circuit

Quinn lay on the ground, almost in a daze. Firebrand. Axan Dane. The words existed in her head, but her mental real estate was a bit occupied right now as she closed her eye, letting the horrific pain that had been eating through her core fade away as her real sensations took over, and the mystery sound that she never heard but only knew that she couldn't anymore stopped feeling so odd. She talked over the comms, but sounded odd, almost a bit dreamy, mechanical, like the world wasn't entirely real.

'Uh huh. I'm Quinn. You too."

She'd thought she was going to die. She had been so certain she was going to die. That she was never, ever going to see her family again. She'd fought six Modir. She'd killed four. It just...really didn't feel fully real.

She spoke again, this time sounded a little more grounded, but critically exhausted, if filled with gratitude. "Thanks. Again. You saved my life, you didn't need to. So...thanks." She was pretty sure she couldn't reasonably sit on Ablaze's shoulder like she usually like to, given that the entire Savior was probably completely covered in ichor from countless flesh wounds. She flexed the fingers on her right hand; in absolute darkness, she had to grab it with her left before she could fully convince her mind that her body was still intact.

Then, again, to the Aerie: "Can someone come get me out? I'm really really tired." And if she connected again she was going to feel a lot of pain. A lot of pain.

So instead, she lay there on the cool metal floor, and spoke aloud into the darkness:

"We did it."

Four Modir. Four.

"We make a good team."

Shelter: A Zombie Survival Story

---

Shin-Ae Yun was usually a master of calming herself down. Or at least she considered herself that way. Nothing important, really; the occasional scuffle at school that she tried to break up, the occasional awkward moment with her mom at home, all these little things that she'd considered important, she was good at coming down from without anybody really knowing.

This was not one of those things.

She leaned against the wall underneath the clock in Mr. Potter's room with a few other students; Hera, Quinn, Ethan, Aaron...she paused a moment, trying to remember the other girl's name. She had in her head somewhere, she knew, but she'd talked to her so little in the past she couldn't quite place it. Something with a J. She'd figure it out later, when she managed to calm herself down. Eventually. She tried to get her heart to beat in time with the tick-tock of the second hand, but she couldn't manage deep breathing, couldn't slow her heart. She'd been in the front row of seats in the auditorium; consequently, when the entire flipped the switch and decided to go insane, she'd been mostly clear from the stampede that had claimed so many. All things considered, her version of the entire nightmarish experience wasn't all that bad compared to a lot of people.

That didn't make it much better to think about.

School had always been extremely important to Shin-Ae. For obvious reasons, of course, but also because she genuinely cared for the place and wanted to see both it and the people in it happy and prosperous. Being happy and prosperous did not involve watching someone's throat get ripped out by the treasurer's teeth. She was hyperventilated and didn't realize it until she started to get lightheaded; she managed to calm herself down after that, if only to the point where she was no longer maybe going to pass out. For that reason, of course, there were a few others.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.

For what must've been the tenth time that minute, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her flip phone, checking for texts, missed calls, anything. She'd tried to call both of her parents and the home phone, but nobody had picked up. She didn't text much because texting with a flip phone numpad was a pain, but she'd texted both of them too, as well as her vice president Simon Creighton. Eerie radio silence, all of it.

Hera spoke; the first voice that she'd heard in something other than a scream, or a gurgled bubbling noise, or a no, help me! in quite a few minutes, and twitchy as she was right now, she nearly jumped out of her skin. A moment later, J girl responded, and her words were surmounted with a simple question: "And unless we intend to join them, we're going to need a way out. Any ideas?" Shin-Ae finally managed to take one or two deep breaths, enough to think about the question.

She thought a moment before responding, trying to keep herself calm once again, to keep the tremble out of her voice. She absolutely did not succeed.
"I think...our best bet would be the doors near administration, I think? People don't tend to use them very often, so they might not be too crowded right now. Or maybe if we get to roof access we can climb down somehow."

Amygdala Circuit

Quinn actually grinned at that. A harried, awkward grin, and one that was massacred on a Savior's face, but a grin nonetheless. "You're pretty amazing, you know that?" The way the Euseran pirouetted and danced through the slaughter had a way of capturing the imagination, and she caught herself watching her for perhaps a bit longer than she should, until her attention was brought back to the front again.

The bladed Modir was running at her. One Modir, running at her. Her, Quinnlash Loughvein in all the fullness of her power. And at that, she laughed. A long, loud, bright laugh, the release of a terrible tension and an intense glee at fulfilling their purpose. And instead of hanging back like it perhaps expected...she dashed at it. Fast. It didn't have the range to hit her now, and she was fully phased. She knew exactly what she was doing. As they drew together, it leapt for her.

Only to be met with the barrel of her cannon slamming into its chest like a solid metal battering ram. She felt bones crack and organ rupture under the pressure. But only for a split second. A moment later, there was another tremendous report, another brilliant searing flash of light that tore into the sky, and chunks of Modir that had been blown apart but not fully caught in the blast raining down for hundreds of feet around. She snarled her laugh into a pseudo-smiling rictus.

FOUR!

But after that, her voice dropped off, and silence fell. Because it was...

It was...

Over.

There were no more Modir coming at her. There was nothing else to fight, no other weapons questing for her guts. The singularity collapsed.

Quinn stood there a moment more, breathing heavily, holding her agonized torso and who knew what other wounds. Her voice, when she spoke to Firebrand, was choked with effort and pain and emotion. "Thanks, Firebrand. I...thank you."

She closed her eye. She'd already been phased for a little while. Anything else would be an unnecessary risk. She tapped into the Aerie comms: "I'm okay, Besca. I'm...I made it. I'm okay."

Then, Quinnlash Loughvein disconnected.

Amygdala Circuit

Quinn could only stare dumbly at the new arrival, her entire body trembling as she realized she was no longer about to die. It might've been ESC. But at that moment, all Quinn could do was be happy she was still alive.

Speaking of, the sudden jerk of pain reminded her of that fact as she let the barrier fall greatly in intensity. She gasped and nearly doubled over as all of her aches and injuries ripped through her and she realized just how injured she really was. If Firebrand hadn't arrived, she would be...No. That's not a good thing to think about. Don't think about it. Because alongside the pain came something that was far more welcome. Her eye ignited with blazing white light, and she ripped the cannon from the aether with a savage roar, ichor-black spittle flying from her shredded jaws. She could feel its heart beat alongside her own alien thing, and the fire sweltered, swelled, and roared in her hands.

She started off. And though it was at first halting, eventually she adapted to the pain, and she regained a measure of her speed. Strafing left, she gritted her enormous maw. Her trigger finger was gone. How was she...?

But then...She breathed deep. She felt the cannon. She was linked to it, even deeper than the Savior. It was hers. Her own, despite how terrifying it might be. It was as much as part of her as her own hands and feet.

Using the trigger was stupid.

There. The rifleman. Trained on Firebrand, not paying attention to her at all. And with the impulse of a thought...

THOOM

Her phase-empowered cannon roared in her claws and the blast cut a massive flaming hole through the already wrecked wheat, and despite the sun above, it cast shadows against it with a horrifying and magnificent light that rampaged through the field.

When the light was gone, so was the rifleman.

...Three.

Amygdala Circuit

Oh fuck.

So, so much of Quinn's strategy in combat revolved around her cannon. It was how he maneuvered, how she deflected, how she attacked, how she kept space. So as it crumbled to ashes in her hand, she downright felt her options decrease. This was something new; she'd never lost her weapon for more than a moment. And at that thought, a memory from the deep mists of time crept back.

If your weapons can't be relied upon, then you need to know how to kick and punch like you mean it.

Well, here was the test. She brought her hands up in the instinctive stance that she used when fighting, blind spot kept as far away from the enemies as possible, hands up in front. The icy grip of dread started to encroach on her heart, but with a fierce shake of her head, she shut it out. No. No. She was a pilot. She could do this. This is what they were born for.

The spear came at her first, and she dipped low, then brought her arm up elbow-first, catching it on the modium scutes that ran along her arm. She took advantage of the recoil to sneak in a low kick on the spear-wielding Modir's shin, and it made a vocalization of frustration and perhaps a little pain before Ablaze danced back and out of the way...

...Only to be caught off guard and barely slide to the side of the other Modir's vicious blades. This time she had less of a reach disadvantage so she snapped her leg out hard this time, catching its arm by the shoulder. She felt a pop, but unfortunately, it didn't seem like it had broken, just dislocated. Still, it gave her time to nip in and rake it across the back of the neck with her claws before she backed off again. And again, she was nearly impaled by the flying spear. As it was, it skated along her ribs, setting her teeth to snarling. They were coming again, this time faster, more together. The seconds ticked by.

One of the blades clattered against her leg, only barely caught on the scutes. She gave a silent thanks that Ablaze had them; life would've been much harder otherwise. Even then, she was rapidly being covered in small superficial wounds. Not enough to really be a danger, but enough to slow her down, and enough to pierce much more through the numbing field.

She forsook any opportunity to counterattack now; focusing solely on dodging. The thread of her cannon was growing stronger, but not fast enough. Never fast enough.

The seconds ticked by. The clock ticked down.

Amygdala Circuit

Ablaze's teeth locked together, clicking and straining in their gums as Quinn tried to throw the huge Modir off. But it was just that: huge. This was a bit of a blind spot in her training, admittely. She'd fought Roaki and Dahlia, mostly; oh, there were sims, of course, but sims only went so far in preparing you for the real thing. She was wholly unused to fighting someone who was just...much bigger. Not taller, because Dragon was taller; but heavier, bulkier. Massive. And though she hissed and spat and strained and clawed, she couldn't get the damn thing off of her. It was too close for her to shoot.

Although...hm.

Quinnlash's numbing aid was already straining; Quinn could feel it in the uncomfortable heat where she'd been charred, had little craters dug out of her flesh. What she was about to do may or may not strain it to snapping, which would be...unpleasant, extremely so. But she couldn't just sit here and let it tear her up. She needed to do something. So she wrapped her claws around the grip of her cannon, and aimed down, towards her feet.

Here's hoping.

Pop. pop. pop.

Three cannon shots rang out over the field. The first shifted her back. The second rattled the Modir's grip. They soared afar, in the same direction as the new Modir, but nowhere near them.

The third was what she needed.

The force of the kick finally did its work, and though a claw tore a long shallow furrow down her side as she went, she slid out from under the Modir like she'd been greased, skidding hundreds of feet on her back before she popped back up. She could feel the static starting to well. It wouldn't be long now. Just a minute, two minutes more. She popped another shot off, this time straight at the center mass of the rocket Modir.

Minutes always felt so long.