...I don't watch that show/not involved in that fandom, but all muscle cars are God. Just sayin'.

:D

Not a fill, but this kinda screams for a Joan of Arcadia fic. :-)

...I can think of a very good one, riffing from one character's grumbling about wanting wounds to heal faster >.> <.

They all died.

It was tragic, but unavoidable, really. It was amazing that the six of them had lasted that long. They had been killed in morph, so that was a small blessing, at least. Four sets of parents were driven mad with worry, but they were not hunted down and infested.

The only one that had been in their own form was an Andalite aristh. Recordings were saved of the slaughter, and the images were broadcast across the galaxy. A battered and bloodied child, dying light years from home, crushed beneath the might of the Yeerk Empire.

It was no accident that the images found their way to Andalite eyes. Crowing Yeerk troops would send the files as a warning, a threat of what would come to any that stood in their way. Soon, the body was identified as that of Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthil, the younger brother of Prince Elfangor.

Noorlin-Sirinial-Cooraf and Forlay-Esgarrouth-Maheen were told not to try to find the images.

They did anyway.

They had not seen their Aximili-kala in so long, they barely recognized him.

It was the last straw. The populace had the results of the battle on Earth shoved in their faces. Were an aristh and a few warriors all the defense that could be spared for such a large battle front? Why was the rest of the fleet not there? Why was the Electorate dawdling so long, when children were dying on the front lines? The voice of the people began to rise up against the military class. It was finally time for the princes to start taking notice of Earth.

They went in with Shredders blazing, fully stocked Dome ships charging into battle. With a few stray pictures, the war had struck a personal chord, and the time for the main assault was long overdue.

They crushed the Yeerks within a week.

With the defeat of the Andalite bandits, the Yeerks had shifted strategic power to the unguarded planet. When the fleet did arrive, they took out the main powerhouse of the Empire, and crippled it so severely that surrender was the only recourse. They were beaten back, routed from the planets they had already captured, and corralled back into their sludge filled home world.

Some Yeerks claimed that they had been part of a peace movement, that they had been actively resisting the Empire, alongside the Analite bandits. These were obviously Yeerk lies, and the treacherous slugs were executed for their attempts at sabotage.

And so the war was won, by the power and determination of the Andalite military. The sacrifice of Aristh Aximili and the five unidentified warriors had led to the greatest victory of the Andalite race, which continued to shine proud throughout the universe, a symbol of peace and tranquility.

And from the darkness, the Kelbrid watched.

I don't know Falling Skies *at all* (I don't think it's on any channel here) but I really want to try an Indiana Jones!fic with that line...

“No, no, no! Absolutely not! This ends now, because this is unfair and unusual and I will not stand for cheating this blatant!”

“Martin, are you really becoming this worked up over a game?”

“Yeah, Skip, it's loads of fun! It's just like storytelling, except without all of the fiddly remembering bits.”

“It's not fun when Douglas is in charge. He keeps cheating.”

“You are perfectly welcome to be Dungeon Master next time we play. My daughter introduced me to this game, we came up with this scenario together, and I just thought it would be fun to test it on you chaps before she tries it on her group. Little did I know that grown men would have greater difficulty with it than twelve-year-olds.”

“You are deliberately out to get me. That goblin raid barely scratched Arthur.”

“That was brilliant! They were all over, trying to get at me, but I just said 'not today, goblin scum!'. And it worked! They were all too busy eating your flesh, Skip!”

“Yes, Arthur, I was there. I was there to listen to Douglas describe exactly how I would scream.”

“It was a rather good impression, if I do say so myself.”

“Douglas, you need to start over and be fair this time. There is no way that Arthur should be this good at a game that is mostly numbers.”

“But he does get into the roleplaying aspect. That was a genuine scream when the spider trap went off.”

“It was scary!”

“You're sitting in the cockpit listening to Douglas talk! It is a bright shiny day, we are flying over Samoa, there is nothing scary!”

“Yes, Arthur, you should know better than to get over-involved in a game. That would make you look silly and childish.”

“Shut up, Douglas, and start over.”

“Fine, fine, a rock falls and everyone dies.”

“NO! I spent hours coming up with Sir Arthnold, and now he's dead?!?”

“We're starting right back up, you can use him again.”

“It won't be the same.”

“And Douglas, I want a character that can fly this time.”

“I told you, those rules are too complicated. I can look them up some time when I'm not also flying an airplane. We're starting over, same characters, same story.”

“Spoilers.”

“What, Arthur?”

“Spoilers. How were we supposed to know it was the same story?”

“Because I don't have any other stories prepared.”

“But it still might have been a surprise. Now it's spoiled.”

“It is the same story, because I am the only one who is in charge.”

“No, I believe you will find that is me.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Carolyn, how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to see how you have all elected to waste my time and money. And long enough to see that Martin and Arthur are lost as adventurers on their own. Pass me a sheet, let me show you how it is done. Callista the Barbarian walks into the tavern...”