Pyrite_the_Fool
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Summary
He looked back into the cargo hold and found what he’d been waiting for. Behind the last of the recruits, something large and blue lurked. Spider locked eyes with the creature and held its gaze as it approached. Heavy steps boomed on the metal ramp before becoming inaudible over the roaring of engines on the tarmac.
Spider had seen Na’vi in pictures and videos. He’d studied their anatomy, their primitive lifestyle. It was something different to have large, yellow eyes peering down at him, all nine feet of carbon-fiber bones and superior muscle and blue skin towering over him.
“Miles?” the alien spoke.
Spider uncrossed his arms to let them hang at his sides. “Colonel Quaritch, I presume?”
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Or, Hell's Gate doesn't fall to the insurgent Na'vi forces in the Battle of the Hallelujah Mountains. Neither does Paz Socorro. Sixteen years later sees an RDA-raised Miles "Spider" Socorro facing the clone of his late father and preparing to leave Hell's Gate on his first ever mission as a SecOps recruit.
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Spider had half-waded into the shallows when he thought to look around. Breath freezing in his chest, he glanced over both shoulders, but no one was watching him.
For the first time since his capture, Spider was alone.
Or, Spider escapes the Recoms a little sooner.
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Ritsu understands, now. Understands that he isn’t psychic, that he never will be.
Accepting it is a different matter entirely.
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Or, what if Ritsu never developed psychic powers?
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Summary
Shou and Ritsu spend the afternoon in an empty classroom working on club budgeting.
(Well, one of them is working on club budgeting. The other's ranting about color theory or something like that.)
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Somehow Shou always managed to knock the breath out of him, one way or another.
Ritsu and Shou spar, cleaning each other up and talking about feelings included free of charge.