#Machina | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

edupunkn00b · 2 months

Text

Meus ex Machina, Chapter 11: Hesper

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

Prev - Hesper - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Logan meets Hesper and he's only left with more questions. Everything has a beginning, though, and not even Abracadabra was what it is now.

“Kiddos are all in bed,” Patton sighed as he settled into the seat adjacent to Luc, reaching over to ruffle his hair. Janus opened his eyes in time to catch Luc’s faux scowl at Patton’s tousle.

“Gorgeous as always, mon cher,” he whispered, smoothing Luc’s auburn curls back into place. “Simply gorgeous.”

With a blush that rivaled his hair, Luc smiled but quickly sobered and blew on his tea. “You said you had news?”

Setting aside the little flash he caught from Patton, Janus nodded and straightened in his seat. He took Luc’s free hand as he shifted away from the comfortable home he’d made nestled against his side. “I do,” he began, working to keep the worst of his worries shielded from the other two.

And from the children’s drowsing minds.

Luc and Patton’s expressions told him he needed more practice. “What is it, Jan?” Patton asked, reaching for his other hand as Luc gripped his brother’s forearm. Together, they made a little triangle as the night sky darkened outside the big bay window. “Is it bad?”

“It’s… an opportunity,” Janus licked dry lips and painted on something like a smile. His scars pulled at one side of his face, hampering the intended encouraging effect. “I was contacted by the new mentalists department at Abracadabra.”

“The start-up? How—“

Janus’ eyes flicked down to his own wrist and his great-grandfather’s antique Casio, an anachronism even in that time.

“The ‘Foundation…’” Luc sucked his teeth and he closed his eyes, likely hiding his battle for control. After a moment, he calmed and met Janus’ eyes with a crooked smile. “What did those capos want from you?”

Janus sighed, a low near-growl. “They offered me a job.”

“Me, too,” Patton whispered, rubbing little circles against Luc’s arm. “This morning.”

“You both said ‘no,’ right?” Luc’s eyes were wide as he looked between them. His smile faded at Janus’ silence. “Love, tell me you said ‘no.’”

“I…” Janus slid closer to each of them. Patton only tightened his grip on Janus’ hand. “I believe this is an opportunity we can’t discount. We—“

“We need to stay as far from them as we fucking can!” Luc’s fingers tingled against his skin and he moved up to grip Janus’ sleeve. Safer that way. But he didn’t concede. “You think just because they’ve stopped hunting Powereds we’re suddenly safe?”

“No. I think we’re safer together. I think we’re safer integrated into society rather than maintaining this us vs. them mentality. Let us be a part of the shared solution. We have so much to contribute, we—“

“Oh, open a fucking history book!” Luc closed his eyes, orange flickering beneath his lashes. When he opened then again, his tone was softer. Just barely. “Love, they’ve just moved on to co-option. Sure, now they want to work with the ‘right kind’ of Powerds like you and Pat and—“

“Luc,” Janus warned, stroking his arm. An itch at the base of his spine told him they wouldn’t be alone for long.

But Luc either couldn’t—wouldn’t?—hear him. He released Janus’ arm and had begun counting on his fingers. “Step two is when they tell us it’s only the ‘risky’ Powerds they need to tamp down on. ‘Four legs good, two legs better,’ right?”

“Luc!” Janus said more forcefully, casting a quick glance at Patton.

Both of the elder Powerd’s hands now gripped Luc’s arm and he tugged gently, keeping him seated. “Lukie, maybe Jan’s right. Maybe we—“

“What, we should heel at the corporation’s side? Strap on our own muzzles so we can duck step together when they figure out their final solution is cull the herd of the dangerous Powerds like—“

“Like Re?” Low and quiet from the hallway, Virgil’s voice managed to cut through Luc’s rant.

Luc deflated, eyes glowing as he swallowed his next argument. “Yeah, Virge. Like Re, and maybe Ro, too. Anyone they think is dangerous and uncontrolled.” He frowned at Janus. “Or uncontrollable.”

“Dangerous?” Virgil asked, sliding into the room and sitting cross-legged on the coffee table between them. He jerked his chin at the pictures of Luc and Patton’s old orphanage. “Like you?”

“Now, Kiddo,” Patton began. “That fire wasn’t his—“

Luc cut him off with a sad smile and a little shoulder squeeze before turning to meet the teenager’s eyes. “Yeah, Virge, dangerous like me, too.”

Virgil’s memory of his truncated hospital stay flooded Janus’ mind, nurses sprawled on the floor, blood pooling from eyes and ears, soaking through their face masks.

“Yeah, I know it wasn’t his fault, Pops.” Virgil’s eyes were teary behind his floppy bangs as he turned to face Janus, hands shoved in his pockets. “What do these capos want you to do?”

“Tin Man, let’s go!” V called over his shoulder from the top of the stairs. Orange lights still glowed from the ceiling but at least the alarm had stopped.

Patton and Silvertongue had already run down to prep the transport and map their route. A low whine from the engines filtered up from below, a little shimmer to the air as dust kicked up from the lower landing pad.

Behind him, The Prince huffed, loudly, as Logan struggled to get situated in his suit.

Logan focused on breathing, ignoring the pounding behind his eyes and the ache in his arm. He briefly regretted not sleeping while he could, a regret that dissolved when he closed his eyes and The Muse’s shaky smile filled his vision.

Palm sweaty, his hand skid along the edge of the mech’s chest cavity but he caught himself, fingers wedged between the collar and chest plate. He pulled and pushed against the mech’s waist with his stronger stump, muscles trembling.

“Sorry,” he grunted. “Almost got—“

“Oh, come on!” The Prince snapped, physically hauling Logan higher and depositing him inside the mech. Logan swallowed back a curse and glared at the Powered.

“Don’t ever do that to me again!” he growled.

The Prince rolled his eyes and pushed him toward the stairs. “Or what? You’ll fuck things up?” He glanced down at the mech’s heavy durasteel boots. “‘Sorry,’” he muttered, anything but. “Didn’t mean to step on your toes.”

Heat flooded Logan’s face and neck, hurt and rage warring just under his skin. “You son of a—“

“Princey! Mac! Now!” V’s beckoned from the stairwell, glaring at each of them in turn. “Or we’ll leave you both behind.”

The transport door clanged shut and they shot up into the sky and over the churning Atlantic. Logan didn’t know how much of his altercation with The Prince everyone else had heard, but save for a few quiet mutters between The Prince and Patton up at the controls, the team was silent. He felt the brush of Silvertongue’s questioning thoughts, a warm request, no, an invitation to share. Logan simply shook his head and concentrated on checking the mech’s systems.

Satisfied he was powered up and ready, he watched the screens at the front of the transport, following as they raced over greenish grey waters.

Before long, Patton banked right, aiming for a landing platform somewhere off the coast. Which coast, Logan had no idea. Before them stretched a sprawling city, bright lights casting a haze in the low clouds. Silver towers sparkled, rising up out of the jagged reefs of the drowned coastal city that had come before it.

“I can’t tell if he’s still there.” Patton broke the silence, pointing to a screen where flickering orange lights blipped at seemingly random spots.

“He’s here,” Silvertongue’s eyes were closed but his voice was clear. “Prince? Can you cover our approach?”

“Happily.” The Prince tapped a different screen and it resolved into a view of the landing platform. His eyes half-shut as he watched the dozen or so deck crew move between the ships. Without warning, they ducked low and drew up neon-striped hoods. As though fleeing from a sudden squall, they all sprinted toward the big building at the center of the platform.

All but one.

The last hold out shielded their eyes from some unseen attack and peered up at the sky. They staggered to the closest ship, a tool in their hand.

“Take her down quiet as you can, Popstar,” V murmured and moved closer to Logan, showing him a tablet. “Any idea what he’s doing, Mac?”

The image on V’s tablet followed their approach, zoomed in as far as it would go. V had set a split screen to infrared. The figure—Hesper?—wielded a gun-like tool, glowing orange under infrared, bright white sparking from the tip. This close, Logan could make out a welder’s face plate under his hood.

“Soldering something onto the hull?” Hesper moved a few feet, leaving behind a rapidly cooling palm-sized circle. He repeated his actions then jumped to the next ship in line. “A tracker, maybe?”

“Not an explosive?” V asked, frowning.

Logan watched the screen and shook his head. “It’s too cold. And he’s using quick cool-solder. Safer for microprocessors but not as strong.” He shrugged. “Explosive casings are heavier, thicker. He’d need to use standard epoxy or… magnets, maybe?”

After a long moment, V nodded. He slipped the tablet into his vest and opened his mouth as if to say more, but the transport shuddered under their feet. “Everyone ready?” Patton asked, hand hovering over a door panel.

The Prince nodded, eyes now closed as he moved to the doors, joining V and Silvertongue.

Logan lowered his own face shield and helmet. “Ready.”

Patton slapped the controls and the big door opened with a bang. Hesper didn’t even look up as they circled him, just pulled his hood lower over his head and shuddered.

Before Logan could ask what The Prince was doing to him, Silvertongue sent a single word, -“Now!”-

The Prince’s eyes shot open and Hesper spun around, the movement knocking back his hood to reveal form-fitting headgear.

He tapped the helmet, shaking his head. “Guess this wasn’t worth the price I paid for it if you could still get into my head so easily, dear Prince.” He tucked the soldering gun under his arm and then, finger by finger, peeled off his safety gloves. He left them where they fell and flexed his bared hands. “Glad to see you all came out to play. Well…”

Looking up at Logan, Hesper seemed to stare right through his face plate. “We know how it is. Too bad I have to take a rain check tonight.” He flipped on his solder gun and ran straight for Logan.

On his heels, Patton grabbed at Hesper’s jacket. He wormed out of it then dodged V’s attack. Overcompensating, Hesper slid and landed on his back, centimeters from the mech’s left leg.

Without thinking, Logan stepped up and down, foot pressed—slightly—on Hesper’s chest.

Patton hissed behind him but grew still, arms loose and ready at his sides. Immediate danger passed, V inspected the devices Hesper had fastened to the ship’s hull. He scanned each with the tablet’s sensors before prying off the closest and crushing it under his boot. “Basic trackers,” he said, nodding to Logan, and they all turned to Silvertongue.

“What is all this, Hesper?” he asked, eyes hooded. He didn’t look happy at what Logan had done, frowning in his direction. But he didn’t stop him, either, so Logan just waited, foot locked on Hesper’s chest.

“My, my, my… My dearest Tongue of Silver,” Hesper purred. Head tilted, he managed to look down at Silvertongue even from his sprawled position on the cracked peri-ment platform. “You’ve brought along an extra army of one this time.” He thunked his knuckles against the mech’s ankle servos. “All for me?”

A not-quite shadow flashed over Janus’ face, quick, nearly too quick for Logan to catch. Even with Silvertongue’s back to him, The Prince must’ve felt it, whatever it was, because he stepped closer, eyes boring into Hesper’s obscured face.

“Release him, Machina,” Janus instructed, gaze focused on Hesper. “He’s clean.”

Hesper leapt to his feet with an acrobat’s grace the moment Logan lifted the mech’s foot. “Why, thank you.” He bowed his head with a flourish and Logan watched his mech’s reflection shift and warp on Hesper’s shiny helmet.

With no way of knowing where Hesper was looking, Logan felt like it was everywhere at once.

For all his theatrics, Hesper now behaved as though they were nothing but a minor inconvenience, impolite visitors who crashed an open house. He hummed under his breath, easily picked up by his mic, and made a show of brushing off his synthcloth tactical pants and straightening an old vest that looked a lot like V’s. Sighing heavily, he produced a pristine white cloth and bent over to polish away a smudge from his boots.

Janus watched him with half-lidded eyes, hands flexing at his sides. “What are you up to now, Hesper?” He gestured around them, voice sharp. Acidic. “Why here?”

“And what makes you think I didn’t trigger your alarms so I could have a little company, hm?” He shrugged and carefully folded his handkerchief before secreting it away in a breast pocket. “You know… just like Re used to?”

“Wha—”

Before Logan could finish his blurted question, The Prince stomped forward, hands splayed in front of him, a glowing haze forming between his fingers. “Take my brother’s name from your mouth, fiend,” he growled, drawing close to Hesper. “Or I’ll rip it out with your tongue!”

But as The Prince moved, the air… flickered near his right foot. The mirage tugged at Logan’s mind the same way the faulty Pickerbot had back at the DC, the first time, before he’d found the flaw in its circuitry.

Remembering V’s concern about explosives, Logan flipped on his HUD infrared. Heat poured from the cracked peri-ment, far more heat than could be explained away by the underlying HVAC piping. The ground glowed in blinding purples and white, spiking well past 85° centigrade.

“Prince, look out!” he shouted and pushed his servos to a run.

Patton’s call to Logan cut off and he copied him instead, half-carrying, half-dragging V and Silvertongue away in the opposite direction.

The Prince swore as Logan slammed into him and knocked them both to the ground. Arms locked around him, he pulled The Prince with him into a roll. He stopped, propped onto the mech’s elbows, erecting a cage of durasteel limbs and torso around the Powered just as the floor exploded behind them.

Precisely where The Prince had stood a moment before.

“Are you—”

“I’m good, Tin Man. Let me up,” he muttered, shimmying his bulky shoulders out from Logan’s mech suit shield. -”Thanks,”- he said in Logan’s mind as he stood.

“Anytime,” Logan said aloud and followed him to Silvertongue’s side. Patton crouched a few feet behind him, inspecting V’s hand.

“Tell me!” Silvertongue was demanding, eyes molten gold. “Tell me how you did that without—”

“Without you poking around in here…” Hesper’s laugh was crusted in ice as he waggled his fingers around his head. “Ma cheri! L’amour de ma—”

“Tell me!” Janus’ shout reverberated through Logan’s skull. Even The Prince took a step backwards, head bowed and one hand pressed to his temple. Patton slid closer, nodding quietly to V and Logan watched them all, waiting for any sort of hint of what he had planned.

Hesper just laughed again. “There was no guilt to sense, my dear Silvertongue,” He shrugged. “Not from me at least.” Hesper gestured, almost bored, at the jagged, steaming hole in the landing pad, then at The Prince. “It was his anger, his rage that triggered the charge. I wasn’t sure it would work, but our dear Prince of Dreams always did have quite the temper.”

He fully faced The Prince then. “Ever since you were a little boy.”

Patton reached out and just rested one hand on The Prince’s shoulder. Given the recordings Logan had seen of Papa Bear wrestling an activated Muse into control, he had no doubt a light touch was all he needed to keep The Prince steady.

“Enough with the games, Hesper,” V said from Silvertongue’s other side. “No-one believes you dragged us out here in the middle of the night for a parlor trick.”

Hesper shrugged again, backing away toward the edge of the landing platform. “Worried I’m going to make it a habit of interrupting your beauty sleep?”

He stood on the ledge, one foot hovering behind him. “Besides,” he directed his attention to Logan again. “I know you weren’t all asleep.”

Face flushed beneath his mask, Logan’s fingers flexed against the controls but the suit remained still. Then Hesper stepped off the platform and onto a waiting airskiff.

“Ta ta, for now!” he laughed, voice amplified to carry over the roar of thrusters as he flew off into the smoggy night air.

22 notes · View notes

thedarkattic · 1 year

Text

Chibi Machina bear,,,,,

#vanitas no carte #chloé d'apchier #chloe d'apchier #august ruthven #machina #I love chibi Machina bear..#Some of them were painted in 2022...the styles are different..#my art

108 notes · View notes

supplyside · 13 days

Text

Countach

#Countach #Lamborghini #Italy #Italia #factory #machina #fabrica

12 notes · View notes

peliydoritos · 3 months

Text

#wakka #final fantasy x #machina #yevon #meme

15 notes · View notes

twilightmalachite · 10 months

Text

Machina - Prologue

Author: Kino Seitaro (with Akira)

Characters: Mika, Shu, Ritsu

Translator: Mika Enstars

"My winter break’s already in tatters from the combo technique of the kotatsu and mandarin oranges…"

Season: Winter

Location: Sky Garden

Shu: Why did you make such a thing, Kagehira? Is our current state of affairs that unsatisfying?

Mika: No, that’s not it, Oshi-san…

I was just makin’ my own art. ‘M not tryna deny your art, Oshi-san.

Didn’tcha say you were lookin’ forward to my work…?

But the moment ya saw my work, you got angry. What’s wrong with what I did? I don’t understand, could ya tell me where I went wrong with my work…?

Shu: ……

Don’t disappoint me any further.

Mika: Huh…?

Shu: Kagehira. Even if I cannot convince you…

It must be destroyed. And everything else in this world.

No matter how absurd this end by Dues Ex Machina[1] may be…

I don’t want you to choose the wrong path, okay, Kagehira?

Location: Starmony Dorms Room (Ritsu, Mika's Room)

Going back one week ago. In early January—

Starmony Dorms, in Mika and Ritsu’s dorm room…

Ritsu: … *chew chew*

Ah, mandarin oranges are so delicious. ♪ How are mandarin oranges eaten on a kotatsu in winter just so delicious…?

Do you want some, Mikarin? They’re sweet and delicious~! ♪

Mika: …Hey, Ritsu-kun, about that…

Hm, huh? My smartphone’s goin’ off, its from Oshi-san.

Mika: Hello, Oshi-san?

Yes, I’m doin’ good. After SS I took a break, an’ now I’m devotin’ myself to my next work.

Like ya said Oshi-san, you won’t have t’worry about me gettin’ caught up in the New Years!

So, I’ll be seein’ you next week then. I’m lookin forward t’finishin by the time yer back, Oshi-san! Alright, seeya~♪

……

Nn~ …… Nnnnnn~……!

Nnaah, ‘s no good! I can’t even think of any ideas!

What do I do, Ritsu-kun? Oshi-san will be back from Paris soon, but I haven’t been able to make a thing!

Uu, I lied ‘cuz I didn’t want him to be disappointed in me. Otherwise, he’d be angry at this all…!

Ritsu-kun, won’t ya help me come up with an idea for my work?!

Ritsu: Don’t rush, don’t rush. The entire world is on break for the holiday, so why don’tcha take a break too, Mikarin?

Don’t they say rushing is a waste of time? If you can’t come up with ideas, why work on nothing?

C’mere, warm up at the kotatsu~! ♪ If you join me in enjoying these seasonal delights I brought, you’ll stop caring about being productive… ♪

Mika: Th-There’s no way I could join ya in the kotatsu today! Ever since ya brought it into the room, my time to focus on my art has dropped like a rock…!

My winter break’s already in tatters from the combo technique of the kotatsu and mandarin oranges…

I gotta hold out until the end of break at this point…

Ritsu: Eh~, how gloomy…

Ah well, if I get in the way too much, then you’ll end up getting a new room. I understand Mikarin’s having a tough time, so good luck~.

Mika: R-Right! I’mma do my best and not give into temptation…!

Watch me, Oshi-san! Startin’ now, I’m a recoverin’ artist!

Ritsu: …He headed out in high spirits.

It’s cold out, wouldn’t it be best to think of ideas somewhere warm at least… In terms of art, doesn’t “nothing beats speed” not usually apply?

Though, hopefully experiencing things outside will help Mikarin’s desire to create…

Ah, my water’s boiling.

What poor timing. I wish Mikarin could’ve at least been able to make me a cup of tea before he left.

What’s done is done… It’s a pain, but guess I’ll fetch the electric kettle myself… Oh.

……

I can’t get out of the kotatsu…!

Oh no. I underestimated the magical power of the kotatsu! Mikarin~, come back and take care of me~! At least for the rest of winter break…!

story directory | next →

Dues ex machina, lit. god from the machine; a plot device where a seemingly unsolvable point of conflict is suddenly resolved by an unexpected and often contrived occurrence.

#machina #event #translation #mika kagehira #shu itsuki #ritsu sakuma

42 notes · View notes

53v3nfrn5 · 17 days

Text

SONY: AIBO ERS-110 Entertainment Robot (1999) Designed by: Hajime Sorayama

#sony #hajime sorayama #tech #technology #toys #dogs #dogcore #robo #robocore #metalcore #tech aesthetic #techcore #aesthetic #1999 #90s #90s tech #futurism #robo dog #japan #robot #robots #machina

268 notes · View notes

thepictoblr · 8 months

Text

ended up drawing 2 other MACHINAs

#my art tag #MACHINA #my ocs #doodle #object head #tv head #monitor head

22 notes · View notes

ends-of-the-wayward-storm · 6 months

Text

Spoilers for Act 4 Chapter 2: Part 1 (Part 10)

—

I love him.💖💖

GEE I WONDER WHAT THAT REMINDS ME OF.🥲

*Suddenly thinks of the entirety of FFIX.*

WOL OMG. (He's so cute.💖💖)

Pain.🥲🥲

13 notes · View notes

jamesbatrezart · 1 year

Text

Matron temple color design from season 2 episode 11 🐣

49 notes · View notes

olligociarts · 5 months

Text

I don't have enough actual finished pieces of either StarProv gijinkas of Machina or Chaosgod, so I colored this one cause it showcased them in a not shippy situation

#Chaosgod #Machina #gijinkas #I love them they're so opposite of each other despite making them the same species #Machina is very attached to her tech and WILL go feral and Chaosgod just punches things as his solution #guess who broke her horn

13 notes · View notes

edupunkn00b · 9 days

Text

Meus ex Machina, Chapter 15: From This Day Forth

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

Prev - From This Day Forth - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Distant history and some time later. Plus, Logan's time with The Muse revealed more than anyone expected.

WC: 2655 - Rated: T - CW: descriptions of treating injuries, the 'comfort' of hurt/comfort

“I do.”

Half-hidden by his wild auburn fringe, Luc’s eyes glowed. Not from his Power, not today. No, today Luc’s eyes glowed from within, the natural deep brown soft and warm and bathing him in love.

Janus smiled back at him, squeezing his fingers. “I know you do.”

Their nerves—and their focus—dissolved in quiet shared laughter until Patton’s pointedly cleared throat brought them back to their vows.

When Janus looked up, Patton smiled and inclined his head, his Illusioned officiant’s robes rustling with the movement. “And you, Janus Gates, do you take Lucas Hart to be your love, your husband, and your light from this day forth?”

Swimming in the gentle depths of Luc’s eyes, Janus nodded. “I do.”

Janus tossed his tablet onto the couch with more force than he’d intended. Luckily, it merely bounced twice and flipped over, deactivating the screen. His relief was short lived, though, and the droning news report made him almost wish it had cracked.

Back straight, he perched on the seat beside it and forced a slow breath, giving his attention to the flow of dry, cool air in his lungs and the—

“Governor Aldi has called in three NatGuard divisions to quell the uprising at Humane Care—”

Patton clicked off the newsfeed. Janus fought to push down the molten lead bubbling up in his stomach but finally it burst out. “When will they ever stop? When we teach them a lesson?”

He smacked the table, the sharp sting doing nothing to calm the fire in his bones. Patton’s hot chocolate rattled against the pair of teacups set on either side of it and the force of his hand shook even the pictures on the wall.

“Now, Kiddo,” Patton inhaled, exaggerating the movement and giving him and Luc a gentle smile. Luc leaned closer, fingertips brushing his sleeve. “Let’s all take a—“

“No! I will not take a breath!” He sounded precisely like Ro in one of his tantrums but he just couldn’t stop. “And I will not calm down and wait for the Powerless running the government to follow the arc of progress or whatever pacifying bullshit—“

“Language!”

“Papa Bear, it’s alright,” Luc said smoothly. The soft purr of the old nickname brought warmth to the elder brother’s cheeks but his expression didn’t change. He picked up his cocoa and watched the newlyweds with his lips drawn into a thin line.

Luc nodded slowly and reached over the coffee table, brushing Patton’s hand, calming him. “Let him get it out.”

“This isn’t simply some phase I will get past!” Janus nearly growled, jerking away from the other two. “We’ve been trying things your way for three years now and look where we are?” Arms flung out at his sides, he looked around their newly finished HQ. “We have to hide away behind a forest laced in tripwire because all the Powerless know how to do is hate us.”

He stood, shaking his head as he stared at the vidscreen, the latest atrocity playing out in full spectrumed splendor. “Maybe it’s time we used our powers for real change and made them stop.”

“Love?” Luc’s eyes were wide and he made no effort to hide the concern roiling through him.

Janus deflated, sinking back down and accepting Luc’s outstretched hand, bare skin intertwined with his own gloved fingers. “I don’t mean…” He gestured vaguely. “There just… there has to be another way.”

“Jan?” Luc’s voice was quiet, barely audible over the whine of the transport’s thrusters as they raced away from the Inn.

Eyes focused on The Muse, unconscious and strapped in his own seat, Janus shook his head.

Luc was completely silent until they’d landed at HQ and he waited until they’d gotten The Muse hooked up to a med bed before addressing Janus again. “Love, there’s nothing you could’ve—”

“ Nothing I could’ve done?” Luc stepped back, the full force of Janus’ rage seeping past his lowered voice. The final threads of his control were fraying and Janus… he wasn’t sure what he might do when they snapped.

Still, Luc reached for him, eyes dimly glowing. “Love, calm down. You didn’t know—”

Janus jerked his hand back, keeping an empty med bed between them. “I didn’t know what? I didn’t know Andrew would betray us? Or I didn’t know you would lead us right into a trap?”

“Wha—” Luc’s mouth moved like a fish and his hand flopped back to his side. “What are you saying?”

Tears swam in his eyes, sparkling in amber light as Luc wrestled his own emotions into control. Or manipulated his own tears. Sour, jagged guilt stabbed Janus’ chest at the thought. Was it his own conscious speaking?

Or Luc’s?

‘Re will be fine, you’ll see. He just needs a little calming, a little extra control.’ Luc had been so sure this outing would work. ‘He’ll have both of us there, both of us to keep him and everyone safe. He deserves a good birthday. He deserves to celebrate a little.’

Janus scrubbed at the blood staining his shirt, his gloves, the man’s final cries echoing in his brain. “What did he offer you?”

“What?” Luc acted like he hadn’t heard him.

Janus stared back, fighting past the buzz of alcohol singing in his veins. Plus gods knew what else that traitorous bartender had slipped into his drink. “What did he offer you? How much were we worth to you?”

“What!?” Luc crossed his arms over his chest, eyes brighter than the med bay’s lights. “You think I—”

Guilt and malice and rage swirled between them, cutting through the lingering dizzy haze. “I can feel your guilt, Luc. You know you can’t hide it from me.”

“Love, no…” Luc’s voice broke, tears finally spilling down his cheeks. “Please listen to me… You’re not feeling that from me, I swear! Here…” He slid around the med bed, both hands outstretched. “Jan, please… Take my hand, you’ll see. You’ll—”

“Don’t you dare touch me!” Janus pushed the bed back between them. “No, you just want to make this all go away and you can’t, Luc. You just can’t. He killed that man! And it’s because of us! Because of y—”

Too late, his mouth snapped shut.

“You really believe I could…” Orange flame for eyes, Luc shook his head, lips pressed together, a gash across his face. When he spoke again, his voice was low, an almost monotone, his words carefully enunciated. “Very well, then, Janus.” He blinked, slowly, bathing the room in cold darkness, then turned and left.

Rooted where he stood, Janus listened to Luc’s footsteps fade before they eventually returned, pausing just outside the med bay. Janus held his breath, waiting. Listening.

There was nothing more to hear but the curt zip of a bag and the woosh of the front door opening and closing.

Luc was gone.

“Jannie?”

Janus had no idea how long he’d stood there before The Muse’s whisper pulled him back to that room. “Jannie, please help him.”

Jolted upright in bed, Janus swore when his grandmother’s repurposed album fell off the side and hit the floor. His dream—his nightmare—tightened its grip on his mind, claws sinking into flesh, The Muse’s plea wrapping tighter and tighter around him.

-”Jannie… Jannie…”-

He forced his eyes open and only then did he register the green lights flashing along the ceiling’s edge. The voice was no dream. -”Muse? What—”- He yanked back, blistering from The Muse’s thoughts.

-” Jannie, please help him !”-

He grabbed his gloves and a robe on his way out of the room and collided with Pat in the hall.

“I checked the breakers, I checked the shield,” he stammered, barefoot and clad in sleep shorts. “Everything’s working. I don’t understand—”

“He’s out in the hall.” Virge nudged them forward, pressing a tablet into Janus’ now gloved hands. “With Mac.”

Tears poured down The Prince’s face and he leaned close to Virge.

While Pat ran to the med bay, Janus watched the camera feed. Machina’s chair sat abandoned in center frame. The Muse’s lower half, writhing in a tangle of thorny vines, was the only part of him visible. Was Machina still inside? “Get him comfortable,” he ordered to Virge, nodding at The Prince.

Pat returned, zipping up his jumpsuit, the largest medkit tucked under his arm. “I’m ready.”

“He’s trying,” The Prince whispered as they passed. “He just can’t help it.”

“I know.” Eyes closed and with one hand pressed to the wall for support, Janus reached out. -”We’re coming, Muse. Hang on.”-

With Pat’s help, he made it onto the elevator and down to the basement. He used the brief trip to stitch together a semblance of a shield, filtering what he could of the turmoil in The Muse’s mind. “I’ll need you to—”

-”Hurry, hurry, hurry…”- The Muse broke through. Why wouldn’t he just go back inside his room? Why had he even left? Had Machina somehow lured him out? He understood what the shield meant to him… didn’t he?

“I’ll get Re,” Pat promised, one arm still loosely wrapped around his waist. The other gripped the tablet and the med kit. “But maybe come back? He might need you.”

Janus nodded, less steady than he would have liked, as the elevator stopped and the door slid open. Machina and The Muse’s cries echoed down the stone corridor, amplified by the small space. They rushed out, Pat barely slowing to grab Muse, remembering just in time to leave behind the tablet before the shield fried its circuitry.

They stepped over the threshold and silence—near silence—fell over the hallway. The world that poured into The Muse’s mind—and relayed into his and The Prince’s—quieted.

Janus hated how his shoulders dropped, his jaw unclenched and he dropped to his knees in shaky relief next to the whimpering heap of blankets on the floor.

“Machina?” He jerked away from the touch, reaching for the closed door. -”Logan.”-

Machina froze, clinging to the thought.

-”Logan, you’re safe,”- Janus sent as gently as he could manage while fighting past the blocks Machina seemed to have instinctively put up. -”You’re safe now.”-

-”Muse isn’t.”- With a groan, Machina rolled and met his eyes, revealing his blood-and-tear smeared face.

Nodding slowly, Janus gently wiped his face clean with the edge of the blanket. -”He will be,”- he promised. -”Patton will care for him. As I will care for you.”-

Machina considered his words, bloodshot eyes darting between his and The Muse’s door. Finally, he nodded.

“May I?” Janus asked aloud, arms outstretched.

He nodded again and Janus lifted Machina up and into his chair. When he resisted leaving behind The Muse’s blanket, Janus simply placed it on his lap and tucked it up and out of the way of the wheels before rolling him into the waiting elevator and upstairs to the med bay.

Most of the blood covering his face came from his head and from gashes on his tongue, swollen arcs of bite marks driven in top and bottom. He helped him rinse with a saline solution from the med kit, humming quiet praise at his cooperation. There was more blood on his hands, along with fine strands of Machina’s hair twisted around his fingers. Patton guessed Machina likely bore bloody bald spots that matched the ones on The Muse’s scalp, too.

Just like Ro used to.

“He didn’t…” The Muse hung his head, wincing when Patton found a deep cut near the nape of his neck. “He didn’t mean to. And I…” His voice cracked with that same quiet shame.

“Oh, Kiddo… I know you didn’t want to hurt him. We all do,” Patton murmured and gently dabbed at the wound before reaching for the same skin adhesive he used on the bites in his mouth. “How… Kiddo, how did you…” He paused, letting his work to close up the wound distract them both.

Patton held The Muse’s hair up and away from the gash as the adhesive dried. His eyes wandered around the room. The Muse was dressed for bed but pastels and fresh drawings were scattered over the floor. Lots of them.

Most of the drawings featured Machina in his chair, dark stone walls behind him. Patton looked over his shoulder through the little window on the door. The backgrounds matched. This hadn’t been Machina’s first visit.

He focused on the rest of The Muse’s wounds and, as soon as the adhesive set, he urged him to drink some of the electrolyte. When The Muse finished his cup, he sat curled in the corner, knees hugged to his chest, shivering. Patton fetched the other blanket from his bed and wrapped it over his shoulders.

“He opened the door,” he whispered, guessing—or, more likely hearing—Patton’s unvoiced question. “He came inside so I could hear him. I tried to stop… I did. I did. I swear I did. I… He…” The Muse looked up at him, big green eyes swimming in tears. “He’s so lonely, too.”

Nodding, Patton crouched next to him and opened his arms. The Muse carefully arranged himself in the offered embrace, tucking the folded blanket between his face and Patton’s chest. Patton hummed and stroked The Muse’s hair with gloved hands.

“We shouldn’t be alone, Papa Bear.” His whisper was muffled against the blanket. “None of us should.”

This close to the door panel’s red lights, The Muse’s curls took on an orange glow and Patton swallowed back a sob.

“I know, Kiddo. I know.”

“Thank you.”

Janus thought he’d imagined Machina’s quiet whisper but when he lifted his head he was met with the other man’s steely blue eyes. “Wasn’t going to leave you there,” he muttered and raised a cup to his cracked lips. “Go slow.”

Machina made a face and pulled away, moving his tongue in his mouth like a foreign object.

Janus nodded and waited, cup at the ready. “You bit your tongue. You’ll absorb the stitches in a few days. Well, if…”

He sipped from the cup then chuckled dryly. “If I wasn't a Powerless, you mean.”

“That’s not how I would phrase it, but, yes…” He tipped the cup again, nodding when Machina took another long drink. “We’ve only used it on…”

“On Remus?”

Cup frozen mid-air, Janus stared at him. The Muse’s old name sent a spark through his veins, Ro’s prepubescent voice calling after his brother, filled with playful indignation.

‘Remus, stop! No fair! It’s my turn to be the dragon!’

The cup shook in his hand and he set it down before he spilled it on Machina’s bedding. “Where did you hear that name?”

Machina shook his head, mouth working for a moment before he shrugged. “I—I… In my head? It was… it was just there.” He blinked and shuddered, face twitching.

His breathing stuttered, eyes squeezed shut as panic and shame gripped his mind. Machina shook his head and flailed in the med bed, tugging away the blanket and tangling his stumps in the sheets.

-“No, no… None of that… Stay here with me,”- Janus sent and spoke, gripping his shoulder. Finally, he lay back, hand twisted in the blanket. Still, his mind swirled with images he could not have witnessed himself. -”That’s The Muse’s past… Not yours.”-

Janus smiled when Machina finally met his eyes. “There you are,” he said aloud and offered more of the electrolyte. “You need it. Between the blood loss and…”

He finished the cup and took three sips of the next before shaking his head. “I…” He let out a little puff of air and looked away, guilt thick and sour in his scent. Janus returned the cup to its spot on the bed tray and waited.

“I heard another name… Well…” Dozens of names in The Muse’s voice echoed in his mind and Janus pulled back, throwing up a weak shield.

But not before he caught one final name.

Machina grabbed his sleeve and pulled him closer. “Who’s Lucas?”

16 notes · View notes