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ciaossu-imagines · 4 months

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Mini event — The Royal Tutor and Supernatural Detective AU

Of course, anon dear! Thanks so much for sending in the request and I hope you'll enjoy!

Setting up this AU, I will say I see it being set kind of somewhere more modern-day. If I was to write it out as a story, it probably wouldn't be true modern day but somewhere in between, set between the early 2010's at the latest and late 90's at the earliest. It's very much something set firmly in the same kind of reality and world we live in too, with some small changes.

Those small changes? Well, everyone knows magic doesn't exist, right? It's all stage tricks, mentalists, HBO and Vegas specials. The paranormal is just something that crackpots on the internet get obsessed with, with conspiracy theories and talks of cryptid huntings and a new wave of 'reality' ghost series. That's just pretty much accepted facts.

Except that's not the truth. In this setting, the paranormal and supernatural very much exists, it's just not something most people would ever come across and when they do come across it, most human people are in danger from it. Those who are supernatural in some way do a lot of work to make sure humanity doesn't find out about them, after all. Magic, cryptids, curses…all of this is very real and very serious.

And nobody knows this better than the von Glanzreich family. Descended from the city's founder, it's said that in their distant past, one of the sons of the original founder brought a curse onto the family by stealing away a fairy princess to marry. It's said that the men of the family are all cursed to die an early and painful death and the women of the family are all cursed to mourn greatly throughout their lives. That curse, along with the mixing of fairy and human blood, are said to give members of the von Glanzreich family incredible talents but bad luck. Of course, nowadays, that's mostly told as fairy tales to the family members children and nobody quite takes it seriously.

Except for the fact that Viktor von Glanzreich, chief of police for the Glanzreich city police department, definitely takes it very seriously. He knows it to be the truth…after all, there's really no other way for him to explain his own special talent of precognition. And he sees the gifts in those who went before him in his family…and while the world chalks up the fact that no male von Glanzreich has lived past their fifties to bad genetics or potential early inbreeding, Viktor very much believes in the curse. He made sure to tell the stories to his own children, still does even though they are all adults now, much to his children's displeasure. He tries to make sure they believe, though he never does divulge his own powers. He just doesn't know how to talk about it, especially since it was drilled into him that he should never talk about it from his own parents.

Do any of his children believe? None of them truly do, not really…not that they'd admit, at least, not even to their own family. They believe in bits and spells, especially when their own talents start to appear, though all of the current von Glanzreich children do their best to tamper down any 'gifts' they have inherited through their blood. If they can just pretend they don't exist, if they can just be normal…it's not just a wanting to fit into society at large, though there is that aspect, but each child feels as if they are the only person experiencing these weird things. No one else in their family seems to have these issues and, deep in their hearts, part of why they all try so hard to deny and hide these parts of themselves is because they don't want to be the black sheep of the family. They don't want to be the freak or the crazy person.

So, with your father the chief of police, and coming from a family that has a long history of law enforcement, what do you do with yourself? All of the von Glanzreich children know that answer as they all grew up and went into policing themselves. Keep the family business going, after all.

Eins, cursed with the talent of true, supernatural empathy, cursed to feel the emotions of everyone around him on top of his own swirling emotions, pushes through the day and finds it easier to ride a desk than be out walking a beat. He becomes his father's right hand man at One PP, serving a variety of roles from behind that desk.

However, Kai, Bruno, and Leonhard all graduated from the police academy, walked their beats, even got promotions (though, given who their father is, there's a lot of hostility towards them for that). Kai is a Sergeant, normally paired with rookies from the Academy as they walk the beat. Bruno is a detective, and there's been a lot of talk about Leonhard soon joining him in that rank. Licht has just graduated from the academy and is starting to walk a beat himself when the story itself really starts.

So how does the story start? With the chief of police creating a new unit, the Special Affairs unit. He chose a childhood friend and retired FBI detective to head it…everyone is confused about this retired detective too, seeming as they look like a literal child still. Of course, that detective is Heine Wittgenstein. Another thing that has everyone a little annoyed and confused? No one outside of the unit is really given any information on the purpose of the Unit or the cases they work. All the majority of the police force know is that the unit exists, and not helping the bullying received because of the belief nepotism is very real, that the police officers selected to work the unit consists of only the von Glanzreich children.

Of course, we all probably already know that the Special Affairs Unit exists to solve cases that have some sort of paranormal explanation or component to them. The story is not only about the case, but also Heine really teaching the von Glanzreich children to accept not only the existence of the supernatural, but to embrace their own family curse and their own supernatural talents and them all to really bond together and grow as people and as police officers.

For anyone interested in some little world-building parts here, this is what I figure each talent would be. Of course, Heine is also someone suffering from a supernatural curse that he obtained on one of his own cases over the years and that curse is also why he retired. It's so much easier to hide the fact that you never age, that you're cursed with life immortal, after all, if you're not around the same people day in and day out.

Kai, of course, has physical strength superior to that of normal humans and a enhanced healing rate superior to that of normal folks. He doesn't appear to have a real strong sense of pain either.

Bruno has the ability to 'read' objects and people, to learn the history of those people or things he touches. While he's still actively trying to avoid his power, because of his aversion to touching others or being too close to them, a lot of people assume that he's snobbish, stuck up, or some crazy germophobe and his reputation probably suffers the worst out of all the children's.

Leonhard seems to share similar powers to his father. He can sometimes see not glimpses of the past or future though, but catches glimpses of life though the eyes of someone else. Though it mostly only happens when he's dreaming, there have been times when he zones out and experiences these visions while awake and that's actually part of what Heine helps teach Leonhard - how to control what he sees and when he sees it.

Licht is incredibly charismatic, supernaturally so, and not only draws people to him but can seem to almost bend them to his will. He can make people do what he wants, if he so chooses to lean into his power, and that fact terrifies him. He lives his life unsure of whether people actually like him for who he is or because he's forcing them to like him and he's the one who has the hardest time accepting his talent fully and not seeing it as an additional curse.

As for the first case I see them working and where I'd really set the first story of the series (and yes, it would definitely be a series of stories, if I chose to sit down and write them), it starts with a small town near Glanzreich City. A town that just…disappears, along with the entirety of its population. It's still physically there, but everyone just forgets it exists. It was never there, in the minds of almost everyone, and those that approach it on the road are supernaturally compulsed to detour so they never enter the town. Why was this town taken? Can the town be brought back and its citizens saved? Well, that would be the goal of the story, to find out!

#replies #the royal tutor #headcanons #au headcanons #supernatural detective au #heine wittgenstein #kai von glanzreich #leonhard von glanzreich #bruno von glanzreich #licht von glanzrich #is it super apparent that I watch too many police procedurals and love the supernatural detective genre of fantasy #9

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makeste · 3 years

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So you mentioned you had this theory about AfO giving Shigaraki his Quirk, and having a more...direct influence on his backstory. Was there a previous post about this theory I could read, or if not, do you mind elaborating on it?

I’ve talked about it a bit here and there (for instance in my chapter recaps for chapters 235 through 237, and in posts like this one), but I haven’t really summarized it all together yet, so I’ll give you the short version, since I have no idea when I’ll finally get around to writing up the long version never mind lol this turned out long enough that we might as well just designate it the long version and call it a day. anyways, the basic idea is that there are far too many coincidences in Tenko’s traumatic backstory for me to believe that they are anything other than planned -- particularly since every last one of those coincidences directly benefits AFO in some way.

the fact that Tenko -- who oddly enough had been diagnosed as quirkless right up until the point where he suddenly wasn’t -- just happened to develop the perfect quirk to ensure that he would accidentally kill his entire family.

the fact that this quirk also doesn’t seem to have anything to do with either of his parents’ quirks. not that we ever saw said quirks, admittedly, but we know Kotarou’s quirk likely had something to do with Float because of genetics. and also we saw both parents touch things with all five fingers, so we know that neither of them has a touch-based quirk like the one Tenko spontaneously developed. hence the assumption that Tenko’s quirk was a mutation. but if so it’s an extremely convenient one.

the fact that all of this shit happens to their yard and house,

and not a single soul turns up to investigate. no neighbors, no cops, no heroes -- nobody. it’s not like they didn’t have neighbors, either!

it’s Japan, lol, everyone’s right on top of one another and nobody has any personal space. you can see the two neighboring houses only a few yards away on either side. and yet nobody in either of those homes heard or saw anything?? no one turned up afterwards curious about what had happened, and looking for the family?

the fact that not a single person stops Tenko on the street other than that one old lady. no one else spares so much as a glance. you could argue they were all too afraid and/or all just figured “someone else will take care of it”, which of course is exactly what Tomura thought happened as well. but putting aside the depressingly pessimistic nature of that take (and the fact that there have been actual studies conducted that show that the so-called bystander effect is actually bullshit), even if we assume that this is that one-in-ten situation where no one was willing to help, the fact that no one was even nosy enough to investigate further, and there were absolutely no heroes or other authorities in the area even after the incident at his house (again, you’re telling me no one was out there searching for the missing family?) -- all of that absolutely screams tampering to me. there’s just no way.

the fact that out of all the people who could have finally discovered him, it just happened to be AFO, and he just happened to already know exactly what had happened. (and for that matter, the fact that Ujiko made it to the crime scene in time to gather up all of the family remains and wasn’t caught or interfered with.)

and last but not least, the fact that the child who experienced all of this extraordinarily convenient misfortune just so happened to be the grandson of AFO’s arch-enemy.

so yeah. just one extremely improbable event on top of another. and now add to that the fact that all of these crazy coincidences just so happen to line up perfectly with AFO’s goals:

he wants an heir whom he can raise up as his pawn to eventually defeat OFA.

he needs that heir to harbor an extraordinarily powerful hatred.

while this is still unconfirmed, it’s heavily implied that said heir would need to be quirkless in order to be an ideal vessel for AFO (AFO probably figured this out a good deal sooner than the OFA vestiges because he has a lot more experience with forcing quirks onto other people).

this isn’t a requirement per se, but it sure is a nice bonus if that heir just so happens to be a close blood relation of one of the OFA successors whose lives he’s so determined to thoroughly destroy.

so how exactly does one go about cultivating a strong enough hatred to defeat one’s annoying brother and his persistently stubborn quirk? easy!

(1) identify a suitable target child (preferably one who’s the grandson of your hated enemy). preferably very young so that they’re easier to mold in your image, and also because it’s important for them to have not developed a quirk yet.

(2) ensure that the child is quirkless (this is easily done if you’re a guy who has the ability to steal quirks).

(3) keep close tabs on the child (whose father you’ve indirectly traumatized by killing his mother years and years ago, leading to his taking it out on his own children years later) and wait until you feel like the time is right.

(4) give the child a new deadly and uncontrollable quirk.

(5) sit back and wait for the slaughter.

(6) ensure via one of your many quirks and/or your numerous connections as the head of the criminal underworld that no authorities show up to rescue the child in the aftermath, or to basically investigate the crime scene in any way. same goes for the people on the street the next morning.

(7) wait until the child is good and traumatized and at his most vulnerable, then come to his rescue, and also make sure to point out how none of the heroes cared enough to bother.

and then the rest we basically already know lol. AFO gives him his family’s hands to ensure that the trauma stays fresh, and repeatedly drills into Tenko’s head the idea that he is a born killer, and that he can only find peace in destruction. he raises him to despise heroes in general and All Might in particular. all so that he will grow up to become AFO’s perfect vessel.

tl;dr, it was all AFO from start to finish. everything that the adult Tomura believes about heroes and society and even about himself, he believes because AFO carefully implanted, reinforced, and nurtured those beliefs in him. and that is precisely why Deku isn’t wrong when he senses that Tenko is still in there somewhere, and that he can still be saved. the key to Tomura remaining under AFO’s control is that he continues to believe AFO’s great lie that the tragedy of his life was inevitable, and was the heroes’ fault. but if and when he ever discovers the true extent of AFO’s involvement in every aspect of his childhood misfortune, whatever remains of that control is going to shatter completely, and once again AFO’s own arrogance will potentially be his downfall. it’s all well and good to go about creating monsters for your own personal gain -- until they finally come knocking on your own door. I for one would love to see Tomura be the one to personally deliver the final blow. but we’ll see!

#shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #all for one #bnha meta #tomura meta #bnha theory #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #long post

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alexandenigtscreations · 3 years

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Chapters: ½ Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast Rating: Teen and up Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel Additional Tags: Poisoning, Poison, Heist gone wrong, Peter Nureyev has ADHD, Rita defiantly has ADHD, Nonbinary Juno Steel, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, TPP, Junoverse | Juno Steel Universe Summary:

After Nureyev get’s poisoned on a mission, he’s determined to see it to it’s completion. He and Juno make quite the team after all. Had many thoughts after reading @kaiserkorresponds 's fic ---> [The Celestial's Kiss https://archiveofourown.org/works/31409258 ]. Which apparently has been spinning round and round my head. I do love a good poisioning <3</p>

Chapter 1:

It should have been obvious from the moment the drink hit his lips. The sour bitterness that the burn of poor quality alcohol failed to mask. It should have been obvious. But focused as he was on keeping a straight face; Nureyev found himself swallowing the vial fluid before he could begin to think better of it. He paused, eyes flicking down to the odd shimmer he’d mistaken for ice melt.

That- wasn’t ideal-

He filed deeper thoughts on the subject away in favor of assessing for further threats. The facility crawled with them, from the myriad of security cameras to their flamboyantly garbed host. They were watching a little too closely, a little too carefully. A smile playing across their garish lips.

Nureyev sat back, glancing over at his goddess. A vision in the scarlet A-cut dress. There was a slit running up his thigh, revealing quite a bit of leg and a hint of a holster.

Juno’s own drink, served neat, bore the same tell-tale signs of tampering. The Detective swirled it about his glass, clearly about to throw it back in his usual no nonsense fashion.

That would not due.

With all the coolness Nureyev could muster, he placed a gentle hand over Juno’s cup. His Detective tensed, sending a soft, questioning gaze his way.

“Not very hospitable, spiking a Lady’s drink.”

“What?” Juno pulled back, guard up.

Nureyev’s fingers curled around the glass, taking a moment to weigh his options. He had half a mind to fling it’s contents into the eyes of Jody, the large thuggish man directly across the table. He might even have time to incapacitate Mx. Balsa and get Juno to cover him before reinforcements came. They might even make it out in one piece-

It was tempting, but ultimately would get them nowhere.

They were on a job, after all. If there was any chance of salvaging the situation, that should be their first option. One little computer virus, how hard could it be to plant?

He took the glasses and poured their contents on the floor, the ice shattered on impact.

Mx. Balsa smiled. “Very good Mr. Tillerson. It seems you passed our test.”

“A test. We came to have a civilized discussion, Mx. Balsa.” Nureyev said pointedly, he could still feel the burn of the alcohol in his throat “Not play childish games.”

Mx. Balsa shrugged their narrow shoulders “Childish or no, it’s effective. We don’t let just anyone play with us. I’m sure you understand.”

“Understand?” Juno bristled, “Understand my boot! You try to pull something like that-”

Juno came up short when Nureyev squeezed his thigh; nodding his head graciously, “Naturally. Now are there any other- tests- we should be made aware of or are we free to get down to business.”

Was he imagining it? Or was his stomach already souring?

File it away-

“Down to business!” Juno blurted, “They offered us a spiked cocktail and you want to get back to business?” he sat back, crossing arms over his chest “I say no way. The only people that I know of who spike drinks are scoundrels and cheats. How are we supposed to take them at their word?” At some point the moral outrage in his voice changed into a conversational tone.

Nureyev could have kissed him, if it weren’t for their cover- “My colleague has a point. You’ve tested us, it seems only fair that we should test you.” he gave his best smile, “Perhaps a sample of your information for our technicians to verify.”

“I hardly believe that to be necessary-” said Mx. Balsa. Nureyev knew that they were the sort of person that relied heavily on their reputation. But deals weren’t made on reputation alone.

“Oh? But I do. Unless you are unable to deliver what we discussed?” Nureyev stared into their pale eyes. They didn’t flinch. He waited a beat, then two and still nothing. He stood with a heavy sigh “I believe our business here has concluded then. Mr. Micah.” He offered a hand to Juno, who accepted it.

“Sure Tillerson.”

The pair made to leave. Jody, Mx. Balsa’s companion moved to intercept. Which was effective both for the fact he was so broad of shoulder as to eclipse the door behind him and so tall that even Nureyev felt as though he had to peer up into his face.

Instinctively, Nureyev moved in front of Juno. It was ridiculous, a man that large simply should not be allowed.

“Like I said, there is no need to leave.” Mx. Balsa’s tone did not change, but there was a weight to it now, a tension.

“And why should we stay?” Juno crossed his arms defiantly over his chest.

They surveyed him for a moment. “If it’s information you want, it’s information you will have.” They slid a chip into their comms and made a fuss of downloading a sample. It chirped upon completion and they offered it up with a flourish. “Please, a sample, if you will.”

Nureyev’s eyes flicked from the chip to their host and back. He smiled, accepting it in a cocky, gracious manor that was felt exclusively by his alias.

“Very well, I’ll have our team verify this information. If you would excuse me.” Jody made an intercept but this time Mx. Balsa intervened. A small shake of their head, jewels shimmering in the light. That was a relief. With a nod to Juno, Nureyev slipped out the doors and made a beeline towards the restroom even as he sent the data to Rita.

As much as he wanted to run, he didn’t. He kept his gate easy and posture confident. That changed as soon as he was in the privacy of the privy.

Nureyev bolted to a stall, shoving two fingers down his throat. He gagged and wretched till his eyes watered, jaw cramped and his skull pounded. Bowing lower with each convulsion, clinging to the hope he’d retch up the vial cocktail.

It wasn’t working.

He reached deeper, spayed his fingers further, feeling the bite of his sharp teeth in his hand, nails scraping on the inside of his throat-

Historically, he’d viewed being ill at will as a necessary evil of his trade. A skill, as it were.

One he’d never mastered.

It had landed him in the hospital on an occasion or two.

Try as he might, the only thing he succeeded in doing was ruining his makeup. He gave up, of course he did, there wasn’t a point in driving himself into exhaustion. Yet alone displaying that weakness for the world to see.

There was nothing for it. He would just have to bide his time until they returned to the Carte Blanche.

In all probability, he had time. Brahmese people were particularly resilient to a variety of toxins. Not by some evolutionary fluke, but by design. The planet had always been hostile to its human inhabitants. In all its infinite wisdom, the government, rather than deal with the expensive venture of cleaning the pollutants from living zones, had instead chosen to subsidize gene editing. That was before the war though.

Mag had been so relieved to find Nureyev had inherited the genetic coding. ‘First rule of thieving Pete’ he’d laughed ‘take any advantage you can get!’

Advantage- Nureyev snorted, more like a double edged sword. While it afforded him some protection, it also marked him as distinctly Brahmese.

File it away-

The thought of the Carte Blanche again, of Vespa Ilkay. She was the last person he wanted alerted to the genetic quirk.

File that away too while you’re at it-

Nureyev turned his attention to the vanity. He’d made quite the mess of himself. Lipstick and eyeliner smeared, ropes of various… secretions clinging to his nose and mouth, eyes red and puffy. He frowned at the fine dusting of red circling the tender flesh behind the spectacles. Petechiae- apparently he’d burst a few blood vessels.

Great, just great. All the work he’d put into Tillerson’s visage for naught- file it away.

All the same, he allowed himself a moment of discontent as he began the process of cooling the swelling, washing away the evidence and rework his appearance.

The door swung open, and scarlet filled his periphery.

“God Damnit , there you are- Tillerson-” bless him, they’d practiced using their aliases for a week before the job and Juno was still uncomfortable with them.

“Mr. Micah.” Nureyev returned, blending the concealer under his eyes.

“You were gone for a while-” Juno didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. Nureyev could tell when his Detective was worried. He was fidgeting head to toe, poor thing.

“I decided to visit the powder room while waiting on our team to analyze the data.” he glanced at his comms “The information appeared to check out- And- oh my they seemed to have attempted to sneak in a trojan horse. Rita assures it isn’t a problem but-”

Juno plainly wasn’t listening. He was looking him over with that sharp eye, stepping into his space. “You okay babe?” he breathed, reaching out to smooth a hair back into place and cupping his cheek “your eyes are red.”

Nureyev jumped in surprise. Had Juno even bothered to check for surveillance devices or- People slept with their co-workers all the time, he and Juno were no exception to that rule, but what if they were seen? Found out? Their cover blown! What if-

But no- he trusted the Detective.

He cleared his head gently kissing the lady’s palm. He considered for a moment telling Juno about the poison, but what came out of his mouth instead was “Just some minor irritation, love.” He stepped away, Mr. Tillerson sliding back into place. “I suppose we should return to our hosts.”

“Yeah-"he flashed an uncertain smile. Just don’t go disappearing on me again. Thought they were going to eat me alive or something-”

“We can not have that now, can we?” He returned the smile, trying to exude his usual confidence despite the weakness in his legs. They would have to wrap this up quickly, if the dizziness was anything to go by. Plant the virus and leave.

“You were gone for quite a while Mr. Tillerson.” greeted their host.

“Merely conversing with my associate.” he shrugged, “And you’re in luck, Mx. Balsa. Your information appears to be- genuine.” Nureyev planted a firm hand on the table, as much for balance as it was to return the chip.

“Of course it is, we went through great pains to ensure it to be so.”

“Indeed. I’m sure the origin story would be most interesting but we have a matter to settle. The price.”

They had discussed this before. Mx. Balsa wouldn’t deal with those who didn’t have something interesting to offer. It had taken Buddy and Rita time to figure out their tastes, and even more to fabricate a program. A hacking bot. It wasn’t real of course, the only thing that made it halfway convincing at all was Rita piloting the thing remotely.

“Yes, the price-” they drawled. Nureyev did not take kindly to that tone. “The price just went up.”

Nureyev’s eyebrows crept upwards while Juno bolted upright “Hey now! We agreed to the terms before this even-”

“Micah, please”

“No! So far they’ve tried to poison us and hid a goodie in their sample intel. Now they want more . Hell, they should be paying us for this-”

“Mr. Micah, please. I merely desire to know what it is you hope to accomplish with the information. And to get a taste for your program’s capabilities as you have of my intel.”

Nureyev pretended to consider it, placing a hand on Juno’s knee and tapping out a message, before saying “These appear to be fair terms, however, what I’m wondering is if there are any more hidden fees.”

To say Mx. Balsa was slippery, was an understatement. Nureyev had seen people like them before, knowledge brokers, able to root out and twist any grain of truth to their heart’s desire. This was not someone he wanted to be investigated by. Juno would be a veritable beacon. Public employees were so easy to track-

Mx. Balsa took their time in testing the program. Rita informed them when she’d gotten the virus set up in their system, it didn’t take her long at all. Now they just had to play the wait game. They fained interest in the intel, made up a story to satiate their curiosity and asked enough questions to avoid suspicion. All the while Nureyev could feel his health take a steady trend downwards.

Once or twice he thought they shot him a knowing look as his attention began to wonder, or that Jody was leaning in a little too closely. He tugged at his collar absently, the sweat plastering his shirt to him under the corset. It was hard to gauge if the pressure of the boning was having a positive or negative effect on the nausea. If they knew he’d been poisoned, what would they do? Would they try to revoke their deal? Detain them? Hurt them? Hurt Juno?

He could not let that happen, would not.

Juno squeezed his thigh, startling him out of his thoughts. Mx. Balsa was pushing a new chip towards them, the one with the information they’d spent the better part of a day mulling over. It was encased in a silver embossed box, flashy and probably manufactured to ensure no one could scan its contents.

Nureyev took out his comms once more and clicked it into place. It was all there, Rita checked for them. Thank the stars it wasn’t another test. After all, it would be suspicious if they left with only half the intel.

“I believe that concludes our business.” he smiled, rising gratefully to his feet.

“We’ve kept you so long, won’t you stay for dinner?”

“Dinner my ass.” Juno grumbled for only Nureyev’s ears.

“Didn’t quite catch that-” Mx. Balsa frowned.

“Ohh Sorry, we’ll pass, don’t feel like dying today.” Juno smiled, voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Ahh, Pity.”

Nureyev’s laugh was cut short from a stabbing pain in his abdomen. He started again, swaying, hand pressed to his stomach. Certain he’d find blood.

“Everything okay there Mr. Tillerson?”

Glancing down revealed only the pristine pearl embroidery of the corset. No blade, no blood, he was…. fine-

He released his death grip on the chair, quickly filing away that sensation best he could. Their mission was nearly done after all, no need for theatrics now.

“Perfectly.” He smiled wider, displaying sharp teeth. “We’ll show ourselves out.”

Jody made a big show of opening the doors for them so that the muscled chords of his biceps were on full display. They’d just managed to step before slamming it shut at their backs.

The smile Nureyev had been wearing, dissolved into a grimace. He set a brisk, if uneven, pace to the exit.

“Hey- Ran-” Juno groaned “Tillerson! Wait up!” Juno clacked to his side.

“Apologies Micah, I merely-ah!” he stumbled over his feet, Juno caught him in his strong arms.

“Hey- are-are you alright?”

His head was still spinning and there was that question again. He had no desire to deal with it at present. “I-”

“The truth this time.” Juno pressed, ever the persistent Lady.

“Just a tad under the weather-” he admitted.

“Babe, why didn’t you say something-”

“Something I drank. It’s fine love.”

Bone deep tiredness pulled him down. He wanted nothing more than to surrender himself to the arms of his goddess. It would be safe there, warm.

Juno looked like he was going to ask more questions but was interrupted.

A shrill cry tore through the hall. It sounded like Mx. Balsa.

“What the hell?” Juno craned his neck to look. "You don’t think they found it yet?“

"Let’s- not check.” Nureyev entwined his arm with Juno’s, setting up a brisk pace towards the doors. Relying on the Detective as one might a crutch.

There was a wash of hurried footsteps, people shouting, blasters charging- the only thing that made sense was security-

“I believe we’ve overstayed our welcome Detective!” Nureyev said.

“Ya Think!” Juno yelled back, voice cracking from the force of it. Even so- he withdrew a fist full of blaster from the dress slit.

But Nureyev wasn’t focusing on Juno, wasn’t focusing on the escape. Jody was barreling on through the guards, weapon raised and charging and trained on-

“Micah!” He slammed into Juno just as the bolt whizzed past striking another employee. They rotated so that he could serve as Juno’s shield while giving him time to line up a shot. It might have worked too if he’d been a little quicker-

The next thing he knew he was violently ripped from the Detective. A strong, bulky arm wrapped about his throat, crushing it.

Jody-

It had to be, few could make Nureyev’s toes leave the ground. His chest quaked with strain of forcing air in and out of his constricted windpipe. He kicked for purchase, skiving off the panic by attempting to worm his forearm up through the choke hold; the other diving into a pocket for a blade.

“Tillerson!” Juno shouted.

“Important to you isn’t he.” Their voice was surprisingly soft and high for their bulk.

Juno fired two shots beyond them, he must have hit his mark because there was the sound of something hitting the floor.

Jody jerked back, causing stars to burst in front of Nureyev’s vision. Fear clouded his mind, making him claw at the bodyguard. Even so he blindly groped for the familiar curvature of a handle-

“No more of that-” they warned “Or I will be forced to-” but what they’d be forced to do was lost.

Nureyev found a knife amongst the stashed trinkets and baubles, he had just enough wherewithal to mouth ‘ ready- ’ before manically plunging the blade into the brute’s thigh.

They howled, dropping Nureyev. Juno sent a stunner straight to their chest as soon as his partner was clear. The lady darted forwards, catching the thief under arm and hauling farther along the passage. Nureyev, for his part, gulped down air and forced his sluggish legs to take his weight.

They had no choice but to run. Nureyev readied fresh blades, easier to locate now his brain had a proper supply of oxygen. Pressed for time as they were, he couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t recovering like he ought to.

They rounded a corner and “Damn it” Juno hissed, taking in the thick ring of guards round a door “There’s too many-”

Manny there were. But they also appeared green, scared. Nureyev didn’t need three decades of experience reading people to know they could be intimidated.

“Perhaps-” he puffed, flashing a wiry smile. "Let’s see what they are made of.“ It was all the warning he gave before sprinting towards the group.

It was a foolish plan, a desperate one. There were screams and shouts as Nureyev’s blades flashed. He had to give them a little credit, they held ranks far longer than he’d imagined them capable. That all changed with the first spray of blood. Typically he’d aim to wound in Juno’s presence; but with the way his hands shook he was taking any opening that presented itself.

Distantly he could hear the bite of Juno’s words as he called out and could feel his presence joining at his side. The two of them versus the small army of guards. He allowed himself to get caught up in the simple rhythm of the moment.

For the first time since the mission started, Nureyev’s mind cleared. All there was was the ache of his breath, the burn in his limbs and the death defying dance with Juno Steel.

They shot and sliced their way to an opening; clawed a path to the hall, the entrance way and the street beyond and-

Sweet escape-

This - this moment right here, was what Nureyev lived for.

The dizzying rush of the night air spurred the pair on until all sounds of pursuit faded. Despite his long legs and penchant for running, Juno easily kept pace. He could feel it now, the sickness worrying away at him from the inside. He didn’t know how much more he could take before his legs would give out or lungs burst. Still he pushed harder, dug deeper, counting his steps to drown out the complaints of the body.

At long last they stumbled into an ally way; a narrow thing that reeked of misuse.

"Okay- What the Hell!” Juno rounded on Nureyev, eye flashing in the dim light of the dome.

Nureyev swallowed, hardly able to keep his focus on the Detective. The light cardio had left him feeling queasy and weak. Wrong. He supposed poison on an empty stomach would do that to you. Not to mention how tender his throat was after Jody’s mistreatment.

He put a hand to his clammy forehead, swaying a little.

“I thought I was the reckless one,” he lectured “the one that went off half co- babe? Nureyev?!!!”

He’d doubled over, retching earnestly this time. Just as before, there was nothing to bring up- The cruel dry heaves cramped his core and set his eyes watering, legs folding under the crushing weight of it.

��Babe, heyheyhey, hey~ I got you-” strong arms wrapped around him, propping him up, “I’ve got you.” Small circles worked into his back as they waited for it to end.

“S-sorry-” he gasped between convulsions. They didn’t have time for this, they didn’t have time for any of this. Yet here he was endangering Juno with his own ineptitude. “I’m- ss-”

“Ugh-uh, no, you’re not doing that.” Juno cut him off. “Hell, when you said you weren’t feeling good-” Nureyev made to apologize again, but Juno gave a warning “hun”

He slumped against the brickwork, trembling and breathing heavily.

“Done?”

Nureyev gave a non committal hum. It was all he trusted himself to manage.

All the same, a moment was afforded to him to clean up with a moist towelette. Again his makeup was ruined, but he was far from caring. The important thing at present was to leave this city behind.

Juno seemed to be thinking along the same vein. “Think you can stand? Or should I contact Jet?”

“No need for that love.” Nureyev smiled weakly, nausea churning within “Just give me a hand.”

The Detective obliged, neatly entangled their fingers and pulled him along using his comms to navigate. He was mighty grateful for the assistance, between the stomach ache and the weight in his limbs, he was having difficulty remaining upright.

Nureyev eyed the nooks and crannies of the back streets. Had he been alone he’d likely of spent the night curled up in one of those charming locations. Cold and cramped, but out of sight. He sighed, surrendering himself to the guidance of his goddess.

“Hello Ruby.” Nureyev greeted wirily. It chirped in response alerting Jet to their presence. The door swung open of the Ruby’s own volition and the pair slid in. “Jet-”

“Ransom.” Jet acknowledged.

“Hey big guy.”

“Are either of you injured?” he asked, glancing back in the rearview mirror. “I ask because of the blood.”

“Don’t think so. Had to get a little rough on the getaway.” Juno explained glancing down at his gore streaked dress and coat. “Honestly, if we could move out, that would be great. I don’t really fancy meeting up with those nut jobs again.”

Nureyev hummed in agreement. Doing his level best to keep his expression neutral and his breathing measured. He must look a mess judging by the way Jet kept eyeing him.

Turbulence made him gasp as pain blossomed in his abdomen. His composure slipping and rearranging like water. He slouched lower, trying to get some relief-

Juno was talking with Jet, or talking at him more like. Nureyev stopped listening after the first few moments, lulled instead by his Lady’s warm voice and the way it crackled at the edges when he became impassioned. He was just so tired-

Before he knew it, the thief was leaning on the Detective’s shoulder, sinking into his side, bloodshot eyes fluttering shut. Normally he’d be loathed to sleep at the end of a job like some worn out child. But he couldn’t fight anymore.

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msfcatlover · 3 years

Text

Me: *rereads my old Portal fics*

Me: “Y’know, some of these are still pretty good! Maybe I should replay the games, and give writing these another shot...”

My brain, always ready with AUs and my latest hyperfixation: TMA crossover with Jon as Caroline, but he doesn’t lose himself in the upload process.

Me: “I... I don’t know if that would work...”

My brain, refusing to be derailed: His robot name could be “Self-aware Intelligent Machine Simulation.” SIMS for short.

Me: “That’s not a great robot name.”

My brain: No worse than “Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System.”

Me: “.......Fair.”

My brain: Testing is like statements; he doesn’t want to like it, but it’s addictive and eventually he kinda needs it to stay sane. He regularly gets in trouble for trying to make the tests less dangerous for the test subjects, because like... draining the acid out of the acid pit ruins the integrity or something.

My brain: It actually makes no difference, but obviously Jonah is Cave in this crossover. He’s researching immortality, and this is just one of the ways he keeps Jon under control.

Me: “Elias was his first attempt?”

My brain: Yeah, but it was just a brain transplant. Now he’s worried about the integrity of his brain itself, I mean, physically it’s getting pretty old. And it’s not like aging is fun anyway.

Me: “So, I assume Martin’s Chell then.”

My brain: Obviously.

Me: “Obviously. Where does everyone else fit?”

My brain: Daisy and Basira are trying to get the whole company shut down for horrible human rights violations, but are struggling to find evidence. They go undercover as test subjects, only to realize they’re in too deep and have to fight for survival.

My brain: Melanie’s a reporter, supposedly doing a profile on Jonah, but secretly investigating all the disappearances that keep happening amongst the staff. Georgie brought her in on the case when Jon stopped answering all calls.

Me: “Tim and Sasha?”

My brain: Scientists, were on the same team as Jon. Might get kicked down to test subjects for asking too many questions about his “transfer to the AI department.”

Me: “Wait. All of this is pre-fall-of-Aperture. Doesn’t that take a lot of the punch out of making Jon our GLaDOS equivalent?”

My brain: ..............................

My brain: Mid-fall-of-Aperture. Terribly understaffed, running out of money, the “AI department” is literally just Jon on the paperwork, Jonah’s desperately pushing the testing/experiments to figure out the limits of brain-uploading before he loses access to the equipment.

Me: “I don’t think that scans.”

My brain: Sure it does! What’s the testing in the games even for anyways? It’s all cognitive, the portal gun itself only gets used in a handful of different ways.

My brain: Now the testing is specifically there to stress Jon out and test the stability of his personality matrix; no point in uploading yourself if the first major issue you run into corrupts your code or causes a major error. It puts Jon through the wringer, even zapping him with viruses and stuff, to ensure the process works, because Jonah doesn’t have the time or supplies for more than one test subject.

Me: “......huh.”

My brain, getting more excited: Merge the Eye-pocalypse and Prentiss attacks! Some sort of biological agent gets loose in the facility, and Jon hacks the security system to try and stop it. Any hermetically sealed area of the facility gets locked down, and he gasses the rest of the facility to keep the contaminants from spreading.

My brain: But they’re underground and the ventilation system isn’t the best maintained, so he can’t risk letting anyone out for fear they’ll get poisoned too. Just has to wait for the gas to rise up out of the facility on its own.

Me: “OH! So from the perspective of everyone in the testing tracks, this AI has just gone completely rogue and taken over the facility, killing a whole bunch of people and trapping them inside!”

Me: “I bet Jonah’s office is basically a fortress, and he still has security access to cameras and intercom, so he just eggs them on. Because this is an insurance nightmare, he wants to upload himself ASAP, so Jonah tells them there’s a manual override procedure for SIMS, but he can’t do it alone. They need to get through the testing, reach the central control chamber, and help him deactivate SIMS before they’ll be able to leave the facility. But actually, he’s planning to delete Jon entirely and replace him in the mainframe!”

My brain: Like the bastard he is.

Me: “So now, everyone’s in this weird limbo of trying to figure out what to do and who to trust. I mean, obviously in the AI apocalypse you want to trust your fellow humans, and SIMS did just gas the whole facility and trapped them in the testing tracks, but on the other hand ‘Elias’ is a shady bastard and SIMS isn’t always that bad?”

Me: “Like, sure, it can be pushy about testing and you can’t expect a robot to be good at emotions, but sometimes it’ll do something like ask for a verbal check-in because they’ve been down there a while and that can be psychologically hard on most humans? Someone complains about food, and SIMS sounds almost genuine when apologizing for not having anything else that can be safely transported to the testing tracks at this time. Once, Martin found a corner away from the cameras to take a nap in, and he’d swear SIMS was actually panicking over not being able to find Martin when he woke up.”

My brain: Tim and Sasha make snide, tired jokes about Jon giving the damn thing all his social awkwardness, as well as his name and voice (for some god-awful, unknowable reason.) They don’t want to let SIMS endear itself to them, knowing it probably killed Jon.

Me: “No, no, knowing that it killed Jon. They absolutely ask at some point if Jon’s okay and are told that amongst the however-many living staff members that are left, Jonathan Sims is not amongst them. What else are they to assume, other than that Jon’s been gassed by his own creation?”

My brain: Oooh...

Me: “Martin’s the only one who actually feels endeared to SIMS by the time they meet up, partially because he’s the only one who was trapped alone. Tim and Sasha were together, and already have reason to hold a grudge. Daisy, Basira, and Melanie met up early and spend a lot of free time fantasizing about smashing the damn computer when they find it.”

Me: “Martin was alone and he hates it, so he tries talking to SIMS, and is a little surprised when SIMS talks back. They’re not always pleasant conversations, SIMS can be curt and doesn’t have much personal info to share (being a computer and all,) but Martin does start to get a grasp on the situation as it must have at least appeared to SIMS when he pulled the lockdown-tigger. And for a supposedly evil computer, SIMS can be surprisingly helpful and seems almost as upset by the situation as the humans are.”

My brain: And there was that odd moment after Martin convinced SIMS to stop calling him “Mr. Blackwood,” and SIMS seemed almost flustered before very softly responding, “...Martin, then.”

Me: “Awww... please tell me Jon’s not actually dead, I need them to take him with them at the end...”

My brain: Suspended animation. The brain is still a vital part of the machine, but it never ages or degrades thanks to whatever combo of chemicals and cryosleep Jonah used to preserve him. Part of Jonah’s “manual override” involves adding a high-powered hard drive or four to replace the need for an organic brain, making full digitization possible.

Me: “But where’s he stored? He can’t just be strung up in the middle of the machine, that’d be unsustainable and Jonah would never let anyone within a hundred yards of it lest they realize the truth! A cryotank in a fake computer bank? A stasis tube hidden amongst the wiring, which they could discover while clambering about installing the hard drives?”

My brain: A cold room disguised as a locked closet or something, with the upload chair still inside of it? Only Jonah has the passcode, technically, and he was planning to go in while everyone else had their own tasks to do, just shove Jon’s body out and plug himself in, leaving Jon to finally die on the floor just a short distance from his friends while Jonah replaced him in the machine, removed the safeties, and escaped into the internet?

Me: “Oh, and Jon gave them a universal override or something to get them out of a dangerous situation towards the end! It actually leaves half the group feeling pretty low, having the thing they’re trying to destroy just hand them the key to its destruction out of pure, innocent trust.”

Me: “Then while Jonah’s distracted giving out instructions, Martin (useless with computers,) wanders over and opens the door, letting out a gust of cold air with a hiss. Martin coughs on the escaping gasses, and Jonah rushes to say that the cold room is very delicate, and ought not to be tampered with by people who don’t know what they’re doing—“

My brain: —but Martin blinks back the stinging, shock-induced tears, eyes adjusting to the dark of the closet and gasps.

Me: “And Martin’s only ever seen Jon in passing, really, they never properly worked together. But he was a little sweet on him even back then, and he’s heard the stories from Tim and Sasha, and he’s spent the last several weeks getting to know SIMS...”

My brain: ...He quickly calls Tim and Sasha over to confirm, just in case he’s got it wrong somehow. They’re just as shocked that Jon’s in there, with all his notes tucked away behind him revealing what really happened. Jonah tries to talk his way out of it, but is quickly arrested by Basira and Daisy.

Me: “Sasha finishes the notes first and makes her way back out. She’s shaking, overwhelmed with rage and grief and horror, and punches ‘Elias’ so hard he falls to the floor.”

My brain: Jonah starts to say something about assault, but Melanie congratulates Sasha for stopping him and Basira, completely deadpan, adds, “We all saw him make a break for it.”

Me: “Jonah shuts the fuck up.”

My brain: Part of SIMS’ programming was not being allowed to answer to “Jon” anymore. He never outright denies being Jon, just corrects people that he is the Self-aware Intelligent Machine Simulation. Tim finishes the notes, makes it to the cold room door, looks into the nearest camera and shakily asks, “Jon?”

Me: “For the first time, there’s a solid three beat pause before the intercom answers, softly and less robotically than before, ‘...Yes, Tim?’”

My brain: Tim starts crying.

Me: “Of course he does! He’s been grieving Jon for weeks at this point, trying not to let it show just how sad and angry he was that it all ended like this, and now it turns out that not only is Jon alive, he never actually left them at all! All those months thinking Jon ghosted them, left them behind in R&D for greener pastures, and Jon was all-but-dead in a cold room the whole time, and none of them ever knew! The relief, the joy, the guilt, the lingering bitter grief and rage, it’s overwhelming. Who wouldn’t cry?”

My brain: It takes them a few days to figure out the download procedure to return Jon to his body, especially since Jonah can’t be trusted on this front. Tim and Sasha are the techies, and they recruit Melanie and Basira for extra hands. (Martin’s still terrible with machines, and Daisy needs to watch Jonah to make sure he doesn’t escape.)

My brain: Martin, feeling useless, stays by Jon’s side in the cold room.

Me: “When Jon wakes up, Martin’s the first thing he sees.”

My brain: Martin sees him moving, meets his eyes, and gasps, “Jon?” Jon nods and tries to say something, but his throat is dry and his voice won’t work. Martin scrambles to get him a glass of water and steadies Jon’s hands as he drinks it. When he lowers the glass, Martin cautiously asks if Jon’s feeling better.

Me: “Jon just smiles and answers, ‘You said my name.’”

My brain: Martin’s confused. “What else would I call you?”

Me: “Jon shakes his head. ‘I just... don’t think I’ve heard you say it before. Certainly not to me. It’s... nice.’”

My brain: Martin laughs helplessly and says it again. “Jon.” Jon’s smile brightens, and Martin can’t help stepping closer, repeating Jon’s name again. Jon laughs along.

Me: “It’s on instinct that Martin takes the empty glass and sets it to the side, leans over the chair, touches Jon’s shoulder, cups his cheek. He hesitates when they’re nose to nose, breathing the same air, shockingly warm even when Jon’s skin is still cold to the touch. He meets Jon’s eyes and swallows. ‘Is this okay?’”

My brain: Close enough to feel the small, inaudible gasp before Jon whispers, “Please.”

Me: “They only get one short kiss in before the door opens and Tim makes a scandalized noise before loudly declaring this unfair and blatant favoritism. Martin all but jumps away, but Jon just rolls his eyes and thanks Tim for saving him. As the others pile in —Sasha claiming she did all the work, Basira needing to know if Jon’s up for making an official statement, Melanie both needing to pass on a message from Georgie and wanting an exclusive interview for her expose— Martin can already feel himself fading into the background, even as he and Tim help Jon to his feet.”

My brain: At least until Jon lingers, fingers lightly resting against Martin’s arm, and looks up at him with hope in his eyes. “Later?”

Me: “Martin’s not entirely sure what Jon’s asking (Jon isn’t really either,) but he agrees anyway. He doesn’t even hesitate.”

My brain:

Me:

My brain:

Me:

My brain:

Me: “.....WELL FUCK.”

My brain, smug despite it being 4:30am: Told you it was a good idea.

Me: “I hate you so much.”

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fanfic #portal #jonathan sims #jarchavist #jon sims #tma jon #tma fic #portal fic #portal fanfic #my life #mine #my writing #tma: all about jon #tma: martin #tma s1 crew #tma expanded social circle #tma: the asshole in charge

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Behind the Door.”

Stay for the ending of this one guys :) Very exciting :)

Here they were with bags over their heads again. This happened a lot, to the point where Sunny found that neither of them seemed to care much. They had been traveling since the early hours of the morning having met their targets outside the airfield. Of course, the two Tesraki had insisted that the fake couple wear something over their heads, so they would not know where they were going. The commander had been fine with that considering he had a tracking implant welded to his ribs courtesy of the good doctor:, a tracking beacon that would send off an emergency alert if he was knocked out or in significant distress.

It certainly wouldn't have gone off that morning as, yawning the two of them stumbled up the ramp and onto some sort of transport. They weren’t tied up or anything, but made to sit in a set of relatively comfortable seats. The commander ended up falling asleep against Sunny’s shoulder as the roaring of the engines added a slight ambiance and gentle rocking motion to the shuttle. Of course Sunny let him rest there, humans needed their sleep, and she would alert him if anything changed.

Absently, she stroked the back of his hand with her thumb where she held it resting on her lap. It was going to be interesting when this was all over. For the past few days they had been in perpetual constant contact, awake, sleeping, eating, planning. It was to the point at which it was almost normal.

Off to her side the commander pressed closer in his sleep head resting even more heavily on her shoulder. She put an arm around him to keep him from falling over and waking up. The bag on her head smelled a little funny, but she supposed that was the least of their worries. It had not crossed her mind that they might have been found out and were being taken to execution. It’s not like the two of them were very good at undercover work. They hadn’t bothered to change their names for instance, not that it would have entirely mattered.

There were so many humans named Adam and so many Drev named Sunny that changing their names would be almost pointless as well. Either way someone was about to get arrested, either for attempted kidnapping and murder, or for genetic tampering.

The ride too longer than Sunny would have liked, and she couldn’t tell which way they were going, or even if they had gone out of atmosphere.

At her side the commander stirred, maybe an hour or two into their trip lifting his head up though he couldn’t see anything due to the bag, “Any idea where we are?” He murmured.

“No clue.” Sunny whispered back.

“Still on noctropolis I see.” He muttered

“How can you tell.”

“The rumbling feeling. It’s the engines fighting against the atmosphere. It would have been a lot smoother if we were in space, plus this is how noctopolis always feels when we fly. Seems Like we are heading north too.”

“How can you possibly tell that.”

“From where we were there is a specific wind pattern that takes us north, and it generally feels like this.”

“For all I know you could be just making that up.”

“I might be, but you would never know the difference.” He rested his head back down on her shoulder listening to the rumble of the shuttle engine and feeling the vibrations under his feet, “Automatic pilot.”

“Don’t tell me, you can feel a disturbance in the force.” He snorted, “No, but a ride this smooth is characteristic of an automatic pilot.”

“Than why use pilots?” She was mostly goading him

“Because Automatic pilots are for smooth civilian transport and not for cool badass aerial stunts.”

“Mmm, sure.” The two of them rocked forward a little as the shuttle decelerated and then began it’s descent. Voices came to them from the back of the craft, and two sets of footsteps approached.

“We are almost to our destination. Prepare yourselves it is a little cold.”

The two of them nodded, and after a moment the shuttle landed with a sharp bump against the ground, and they were helped to their feet. Sunny kept tight hold of the commander’s hand, not trusting them to not get separated.the commander seemed to be just fine with that and together they were walked to the end of the shuttle.

There was a slight whirring as the doors opened up, and both of them were hit in the face with a blast of cold air. The commander inhaled sharply and Sunny grunted with discomfort as a powerful blast of wind. She put a hand over the holes at her neck trying to keep them from cracking and drying up in the harsh air.

The wind whistled and the cold grew more piercing. The commander began to cough as sharp needles of cold bit into his throat. For a moment, sunny was convinced that the two of them were going to be kicked out of the shuttle into the freezing cold blast of wind where they would eventually freeze and die while the Tesraki flew away laughing at their stupidity for being so obvious.

However, that thought was dashed as the shuttle doors opened, and they stepped out and downwards boots thudding over the metal ramp. Voices and engines roared around them as even harsher wind whipped past their faces.

Something rumbled over the metal ground just to their side, and Sunny thought she felt a few wisps of snow brush against her skin. She was so…. Very...very cold.

Inside her heartbeat sped up desperate to pump warm blood through her body.

At her arm, the commander was already shivering Uncontrollably.

She pulled the human closer partially to warm him up and partially because she hoped that he might be warmer than her, “You ok?’ she whispered.

“You’re asking me if I’m ok… not to, bring light to a situation sunny, but your naked, at least I have a jacket, which I would totally offer to you if you were smaller or I were taller.”

That made her laugh, but luckily for them they ad stepped inside some building by that point and the wind was cut off.

They could still hear voices, the thudding of feet on metal and the running of machines all around them. There was a sharp metallic hiss, and they were led inside with a sigh o relief as warm air washed over them.

The bags were drawn from their heads, and they found themselves in a nice little waiting room with a reception desk at one end and chairs with magazine lying around on low-lying coffee tables, “You two take a seat, we will be right back.”

They did as told surprised to find themselves sitting across from another couple, this one also Human/Drev, except in their arms they held a very small bundle. Commander Vir craned his neck to see, and noticing the two of them, the human female holding the bundle rotated it so he could see, smiling.

The tiny face was of a human baby, or so it seemed, though it’s hair was shockingly pearl white.

Both of their eyes widened.

“IS that….” He trialed off

The human nodded smiling, “Our baby, yes! We just came in for a one-week checkup to make sure the DNA splicing went well.

The commander stood up, “You mind if I…. Get a closer look?”

“No not at all.” The Drev responded motioning the two of them over.

They came and sat down close by looking down at the sleeping baby. One of its arms had been brought up to the chin, and there they could see how the skin glittered sort of white in the light above.

“Wow…. pretty. What’s their name?”

“We named him Daklan.”

The commander and Sunny exchanged looks of surprise, “Amazing … that’s the translation isn’t it.”

She smiled, “You speak Drev?”

He cleared his throat, and took Sunny’s hand, “Of course I do.”

“Are you two here for a consult.”

Sunny pulled him closer, “Yes we…Well we admit we were a little skeptical.” She looked down at the baby, “But now.”

A door opened on the other side of the room a door opened, and the two Tesraki stepped in, “Why don’t you two come on and follow us.” They paused waving goodbye to the other couple and then stepping into the room behind the Tesraki.

“Admiring one of our success stories I see.”

“Yes…. are there not success stories?”

There was a sigh, “Afraid not, in the early years of developing this technique we had some pitfalls. There were a lot of children who came out deformed or with strange medical conditions. It turns out that genetic testing is best done beforehand to see what sort of underlying conditions the parents have since they can manifest in very strange ways when paired with other species.”

They were walked into a nearby office and sat down.

“Hold out your arms.”

They did as instructed wincing as the needles pierced into their skin.

“We can harvest from any piece of genetic material we want and splice them together by pulling the DNA string from the nucleus. IT took a lot of hard work, but we have automated the process that checks the sequencing for abnormalities even as it runs probabilities on each genetic combination. Let us demonstrate.”

He passed the genetic codes into the machine and let them spin around for a while as the monitor worked.

About ten minutes later, they had results.

“Ah, see here.” he glanced at Sunny, “Your genes are almost perfect, until we get to the combination that contributes to height.”

She sighed, “Of course.”

“IF we were to pair that with human DNA we would probably et a creature that is no more than three to four feet tall, not dwarfism, just a very, very small human Drev hybrid. So what we would do in this case, is we would pull the height genes from the father instead.” They turned to Adam, “You are carrying a recessive allele on the TYR gene that can lead to certain types of albinism in humans.”

HE blinked in surprise, “I am?”

“Yes, now this is not normally an issue unless your partner has the same matching recessive trait. However, if you pair this particular gene with a Drev gene, you can get some pretty unfortunate consequences. This will make the Drev child completely blind where it only causes visual issues in humans, not to mention bu it will make the Drev child extremely susceptible to UV light based of how Drev coloring and carapace tends to interact. So what we dofrom here is we take the healthy genes from both parents and splice them together and then our software creates a realistic rendering of what the offspring would look like so you can more effectively choose, however that option does cost more.”

He turned to the monitor, “You have four options male/female and humanoid or Drev like.”

Four images flashed onto the screen, and sunny was surprised at the tiny human with golden hair and skin. She recognized that gold color, she also recognized the starry purple color on the little Drev girl.

Her parents colors.

“So, what do you think.”

“I…. wow…. This is a lot to take in.” Adam Squeezed Sunny’s hand, “I don’t know if this is too much to ask, but might we be able to see the process before we make our decision.”

“Of course, right this way.” The two of them stood leading the couple out and back into the hallway. The commander leaned close and Sunny dropped her head in to listen, “Well at least we know if we ever had children they would all look like anime protagonists.”

She snorted as they continued their way down the hall.

A door at the far end opened, and they were pulled into a small viewing room overlooking a massive factory sized floor.

They looked around with wide eyes.

It looked a lot like the prodigum factory with rows upon rows of test tubes set up to contain growing fetuses of all shapes and colors. Some of them were almost done while others were only in the early stages of development. A good portion of the factory was mostly dark except for red light, “Can we get a closer look?” The commander wondered

“Yes, I suppose we can go down onto the floor.”

The commander gave Sunny a look and she nodded. They walked along the floor staring at the tanks and the tiny creatures growing inside them.

“What’s behind that door?”

“Simply equipment, nothing important.”

He squeezed Sunny’s hand, and she stepped in front of him as they passed by another tank. She felt his hand drop from hers as he slipped behind a row of tables ducking into the darkness where only the red light glowed. She pretended to be mesmerized by the tubes even though they were absolutely disgusting.in her opinion.

Behind her, commander Vir ducked through the darkness pressing himself up against tables and machines trying to stay out of the glowing red lights. He made it across the room silently and paused by the closed door. Glancing over his shoulder to check and make sure no one was there, he backed through the door and into the next room with only the barest of noises. When The door shut he turned around,

What he saw made him freeze in place.

His mouth dropped open and his chest tightened with intense horrific anger.

The Adaptid’s bodies hung from hooks in the ceiling as their genetic tissue was harvested. Soft moaning came from cages all around him, and he turned in a wide circle pausing when his eyes over the cages.

His heart hammered in his chest, and he thought he was going to be sick. The anger intensified as his eyes fell on the last figure in the line of cages. His hands grew cold and his entire body began to tingle. His vision tunneled.

He raced across the room straight to the cage wrapping his hands around the bars, “Vicky!”

The hybrid-human adaptid turned her large dog-like head to face him. He found himself staring into soft gray eyes., “Vicky.” He whispered through a strangled throat.

The adaptid mewled piteously sniffing at him ears perking up when she recognized his scent. She pressed up against the bars, and he reached through running a hand along the soft skin of her neck. She mewed again, “Shhh, shh its alright, I’m here now, and I’m going to get you out, I promise.”

His hands were shaking against the bars as he concealed barely unbridled rage.

He understood now, understood how their process was working where the prodigum’s did not.

And with that realization came the desire to do nothing more than annihilate this entire facility and every mewling coward inside.

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sanoiro · 4 years

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Lucifer Meta - Celestial Powers

Celestial Powers have occupied a lot of our time in this fandom. What do they mean and how they are controlled? Perhaps the answer is in this self-actualisation all angels seem to possess.

Back in S2 Lucifer told Linda that all angels were born with their gifts and when she asked him if that was it, he seemed baffled from that question.

What we know so far is that

Lucifer draws out desires

Michael draws out fears

Amenadiel can slow down or even stop time

Remiel can sense the creation of new Celestials

Uriel could see patterns of action and results

And then we have Azrael. Azrael is the Angel of Death but what is really known about her gift? Very little. She can transfer souls? But how does she know where to go and when? Does she senses death? Finality so why did she need a sword that could enforce that finality to everyone?

By looking back a theory was formed one that may be supported by some lines throughout the seasons.

Celestial powers are not gifts. They are defence/coping mechanisms, coping mechanisms, customised for every Angel as if when they were created Mum and Dad gave them what they needed to feel safe, to be safe. So in a way a gift but did they made the same mistake Lilith did? Instead of making them untouchable each and every one barricaded behind their insecurities.

Let me explain this.

Amenadiel in S5 told Chloe that humans saw their desires reflected on Lucifer. That is why they were drawn by him. Lucifer hid behind -let’s call it- a celestial mirror that kept everyone out but made him likeable. If Michael was correct then Lucifer biggest fear was to be unworthy.

That is supported by Lucifer’s own words in the end of 3x11. Lucifer waited for aeons his Father’s forgiveness and after a lot of time he got disappointed so his vacation started. I do wonder sometimes if that case in 3x11 started by Michael. Was Aiden (the fighter) confronted by Gil (the boxing coach) out of fear and that led to the murder? Was it a celestial influencing murder? It’s probable.

Let’s not forget that Lucifer fought back when he was called Evil by Amenadiel that’s what urged his decision to throw the towel on ruling Hell and start his vacation. But back to the Celestial powers.

Now let’s leave Lucifer for a bit and move to Michael. Michael as very well Lucifer and Amenadiel said essentially reflected fears back to others, in an attempt to conceal his own fears of inadequacy. It is interesting how similar Lucifer and Michael are cognitively.

Amenadiel’s powers were brought forward at his talk with Remiel in 4x07.

“My powers, they kept me at a distance, kept me disconnected from humanity. And I think that's why they're gone now. Because I don't want that anymore.”

When Amenadiel had to confront his son’s humanity all his fears and insecurities came back thus his powers returned not in a loss of control but in order to protect him. They acted like an armour.

Here I would like to say that whether Charlie or not is a Celestial is an interesting question. He is half so it is plausible to get sick or even grow old, it is normal to have human attributes but also he remains a Celestial as Remiel recognised him as one before his birth.

Now add to that the fact that Michael may have manipulated the ‘evidence’. We have seen that some Celestial powers work on other Celestials like with fear and desire or even tracking down a Celestial as we saw with Remiel. So I wouldn’t be surprised if as Charlie comes from Amenadiel’s genetic code he can be controlled by him in that way. Or because Amenadiel was feeling threatened by his son’s humanity his powers lashed out to Charlie thus immobilising him.

As Lucifer noted in 508:

“You stopped time to prevent all these from happening.”

And here is the sweet spot. I do believe to an extent subconsciously that’s what was happening with Charlie. Amenadiel made sure to extend the effect of his power to Charlie, to stop time and protect his child.

It didn’t mean that Charlie was necessarily too human or not a Celestial but that the desire to protect the one that Amenadiel loved meant to stop time. And as you may have guessed something similar happened to Lucifer and Chloe in 507.

When it comes to Lucifer and Chloe we know that he is vulnerable around her and that she cannot be affected by his mojo.

Let’s start with his mojo.

If we assume that his mojo is a defence/coping mechanism, surrendering to her emotionally and carnally in 506 led to an effect similar to what happened with Charlie.

There is no reason why Lucifer would not have been able to trust Chloe in 1x01 in order for his mojo to not work. So we should assume something is there but what we are interested here is how Lucifer’s mojo passed to Chloe.

What Charlie is for Amenadiel, it’s Chloe for Lucifer. The person that they love most and are ready to do anything for them, even change, they can expand their powers and that’s what I believe happened with Chloe.

Aside from what she may be aside from mere Miracle, and thus can be receptive to the mojo transfer (like a magnet that needs the right metals in order for a pull to exist), I believe that Lucifer passed to Chloe his mojo as a way to protect her.

His power shield was given to the person he cared most and wanted safe. It is only natural for us to give everything to make sure our loved ones will be safe. The expression if I could give you my heart, moon etc imagine it being possible for Lucifer when he gives her a part of him unconsciously.

But when does he get it back?

As some fans have noted on Twitter and on Tumblr did the injection triggered him on being invulnerable again around Chloe?

I believe that yes. Lucifer has spent all his being on protecting her, she knows she can take care of herself but for the first time, he was near on losing her because he couldn’t act.

Let’s assume that the gun had not been tampered with or anything else. Let’s assume that while Dan was unconscious between his flights with Michael, Michael did not get the opportunity to somehow make the shooting realistic for everyone.

At this point, I want to say that speculation is still lit within me. Otherwise, Dan’s actions don’t make any sense.

It would make sense for Lucifer to miraculously regain his invulnerability and fro Michael to play easily with Chloe’s fears in the caves. He even seemed to know that Chloe would be rescued. Was he the one who manipulated Dad into finally coming to Earth? That will be known in P2 I guess but if all the above is not somewhat true then Michael’s plan has no value whilst he seems to always know exactly where the next pawn will land.

My opinion? Michael takes after Dad…. Go figure… Which I’ll explore in the Second Act as I believe it is related on how Lucifer transfers his mojo and loses his invulnerability.

As you remember Lucifer’s mojo returns in 507 as Lucifer draws out the guard’s desire to be a dancer in order to get a lead on Chloe. So Lucifer’s mojo returns when he needs to protect Chloe again and she cannot do it herself.

If we now assume that Lucifer’s vulnerability has nothing to do with Michael then it’s similar to his mojo coming and going and yes connected to the shock of not being able to protect Chloe.

Chloe in 505 tells him that according to Amenadiel’s theory Lucifer is vulnerable around her because he chooses to, and as we have said before in other meta, he trusts her. That discussion between them took place in 1x04 and after that, we know the rest.

In a recent interview with Ildy Modrovich and Joe Henderson they confirmed (at 2:43) that Lucifer is vulnerable around Chloe because he chooses to be.

Ildy said: ‘He wasn’t evolved mentally so his body laid the stepping stones for him’

Additionally that:

‘ He decides to make himself vulnerable and because his brain is kind of behind, his body does it for him. That’s why angels self-actualize and have the powers they have, be they good or bad. They are trying to tell them something that they need to learn.’

That’s a realisation he has after Chloe tells him Amenadiel’s theory in 505 so we can assume that cognitively can now albeit again unconsciously stop that from happening. Therefore he regains his invulnerability when there is an imminent danger around Chloe like her ex cradling a gun and pointing it at him.

Finally what we also need to explore is why Chloe loses suddenly the mojo in 507. She asks the desires of two suspects and then in their third one is gone.

Between those two events three things happen.

Lucifer’s fears and annoyance over Chloe surpassing him after talking to Mario intensify.

He is willing to use intimacy as a means to get back his mojo

Goes to couple therapy with Chloe but here is the thing that’s the one thing that I believe turned the tables.

While at couples therapy some revelations do happen but mainly for Chloe.

As Linda said they do not know everything about celestial powers so nothing is ridiculous not even power transference through sex, an emotional surrender or as Linda says it having sex with someone you care about requires surrendering control, giving up power.

Lucifer with the parallel of Chloe losing her power through the loss of her gun and part of her identity decides to of course get a gun and use the Diablo Lt. Detective badge prop he stole from set in 503.

Fast forward we go to Los Angeles Theatre where they question the barytone and there Lucifer has a gun and a badge. He reclaims power in the form of what gives power & a part of her identity to Chloe. He feels secure and also feels like he can protect himself and Chloe.

If the theory of the powers being a defence/coping mechanism then by getting a placebo in the form of a gun it means that Chloe no longer needs his mojo as she is safe with him while he has control of a deadly weapon but also that effect is so strong that he does not manifest - not retrieves - manifests his mojo again.

That of course is lost when while having the gun on him he gets immobilised, he can no longer protect himself nor Chloe and thus the barricades are all back up. Both his mojo which he uses to find/protect Chloe but also his invulnerability around her again in order to keep both of them safe.

I would like now to close this meta with the idea that Chloe also had a role in this as I do believe that losing the mojo involved her understanding of Lucifer’s powerlessness and therefore she once again surrendered emotional control to him and thus allowed the mojo to leave her, so Lucifer is not the only one who controls that give and take but on a degree, no matter how small, Chloe does as well.

#lucifer season 5 #lucifer spoilers #lucifer speculation #lucifer meta

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cozycryptidcorner · 4 years

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The Mad Prince, Chapter 9

Always handle yourself with grace and poise, the matchmaker rep always told you, and you remember that exact quote as your mouth hits the floor. You are so very close to shouting ” what,” but by some deity’s grace, you manage to say it in a tone that doesn’t suggest you’re going to march back down and kill the prince with your bare hands.

“Did no one tell you?” The vice marshal clicks his tongue in such transparently false sympathy.

“Of-” you try to push down the bristles, taking in a deeper breath, “of course I’ve been told! I’m just wondering what kind of insignificant dick you’re compensating for with that piss poor attitude you’ve had since I arrived.” There it is, a few weeks’ worth of stress and anger bubbling over the surface. You knew that this would happen eventually, but you suppose you weren’t fully prepared to be tipped over the edge so goddamn early.

Judging by the vice-marshal’s expression, though, he’s clearly not used to being spoken to in that manner, because his entire face goes dark, and his hand raises ever so slightly as though preparing to strike you. “The human body is so much weaker than a drow’s, so much easier to break. What makes you think that you’ll survive one rotation?”

Your guard must have done something because you don’t think the vice-marshal would wince back at your death glare, especially since your prior reputation has been carefully scrubbed clean from the records. With a firm, calm hand, on your shoulder, Elias steers you away almost roughly, apologizing all the while for the sudden departure. You can feel through his pulse that he’s nervous. Or maybe annoyed. You don’t know enough about him to put a specific read yet. Quickly, he has you in the other lift, scanning his pass for permission to enter the servant’s quarters.

“You’re scheming.” Elias surprises you by speaking first after a few moments of stony silence.

Do you blame me? you don’t say. If only you were sure he was just making a casual remark, and not accusing you of being a potential downfall to the royal family. Maybe you shouldn’t sell yourself that high, though.

“I imagine that it must be very different than what you are used to.” Elias responds, glancing in your direction for just a brief moment.

“So very different, yeah.” Your teeth are tightly gritted together, because that’s a severe understatement.

After another moment of awkward quiet. “We both know there is going to be a confrontation,” Elias says, staring straight ahead, “but all I request is that you go easy on him. He… means well.”

“Let’s have a fun little exercise of the imagination,” you say, instead of agreeing, “and let’s say that you get matched with….” You try to get your brain to actually think of some high-level officer, “let’s also say you get matched with one of the few soldiers who are trained in specifically killing driders. We call them the suicide squads, because… um, you get the idea.”

“I don’t think-”

“Let me finish,” you almost snap. “Let’s say this one you get matched with is alright when it comes to you for the most part, but there’s this underlying threat that all of her peers are leaning over you, pressuring her to send your body back over the line in pieces. Which doesn’t even take into account how I’m sure the Royal family is eager to have you feed them information, which you might be able to ignore so long as they don’t have anything to hold over your head, like family, or friends, or-” a criminal background “like… whatever. Now on top of all that, your match’s family is really getting under your skin, as in they want you dead, so what now? You’re stranded in enemy territory, and you’re not sure if you can just say ‘I want to go home’ because something about her makes you wonder if she’s three slights away from strangling you with her bare hands.”

Elias is silent for a moment, then, “I don’t think the prince would-”

” Then you find out that she was serious with someone before who mysteriously died an unknown amount of time ago.”

“I can answer that for you,” Elias says wearily, “two years ago. Her name was Iole.”

“And how did she die?” You ask, trying to tamper down the anger. It doesn’t work, there’s a fuzzy heat fizzling in your chest, like static.

“Her heart gave out,” he says, glancing self-consciously over to the guard, who hasn’t even glanced in your direction.

“Spontaneously?” Because that’s… so suspicious.

“It’s still under official investigation, one that I am not fully privy to.” Elias lets out a muted sigh, tugging at the ends of his sleeves. “However, there are rumors.”

“How interesting,” you spit out through gritted teeth, “why wasn’t I told?”

“I don’t- that is, I didn’t realize that you were not.”

A lie. One that you can sense even through all that careful dignitary training. You let the elevator continue on for a few more tense, quiet moments before saying, “where’s the ship.”

“Where’s what ship? The official matchmaker ship you arrived on?”

“Yes, clearly,” you’re impatient and tense, there’s a weird, pinching feeling in your stomach, “is it in the original place where it was parked? Or did you move it somewhere else?”

He’s silently debating, you can tell, about the benefits versus the risks of telling you. Or even if he’d be able to get away with a lie, you can see it in his eyes. To his credit, he probably realizes that anything besides the truth will probably come to bite him later (namely you. You would bite him later if he lies), so he lets out a sigh that’s probably meant to carefully hide his frustration. “The ship you arrived in is in the same docking bay, though it has not been refueled or maintained at all.”

The doors open with a ping, and you notice a few drow servants lingering in the hallways, so you bite the question down sullenly, crossing your arms over your chest as you walk. Every step towards the prince’s wing is spent deciding how you’re going to speak to him about this. Give him the benefit of the doubt? Go in with all guns blazing? What would he even say, you wonder, once you lay the cards on the table? Would he try to be reasonable? Would he completely lose it and finally kill you? A shiver runs down your spine at the idea of him looking at you the way he stared at those servants. Cold. Bitter. Without any of the timid tenderness he’s shown.

You’re here.

“Why don’t you let me step in first, at least to prepare him for the situation?” Elias offers, looking like he is well aware of the careful calculations that must be done to walk on all those eggshells.

“Um… no, I’m good,” you say, opening the door with a bit more attitude than you meant to. You hear Elias murmur something to the guard as you enter, though only he follows. Aksanos is where you expected him to be, at his desk, working over a large datapad, of which he clears the contents of as you walk over, setting your hands flat on either side of his workspace.

“Did your doctor’s appointment go well?” He asks, his brow furrowing at your aggression.

“Oh, it went swimmingly, thanks for asking.” Your brain is racing, and you’re trying to figure out if you’d like Elias here or absent, or if it would even make any difference. “Say, babe, I think it’s about time we have us a little super serious conversation that we’ve both been putting off.”

He looks over your shoulder at Elias, who probably is emitting a less than thrilled expression at the moment. Then he glances back at you, with a face that’s difficult for you to gauge the emotions portrayed, but he nods, giving Elias a gesture of dismissal. Once the two of you are alone, the door shut and locked firmly against anyone who might interlope, he folds his hands over each other and says, “what is this about, then?”

” Well,” you say, feeling a sense of hysteria bubbling in the back of your throat, “I was being escorted back from my doctor’s appointment- she’s absolutely lovely, by the way, especially with letting me know ahead of time that your mom, who, if you remember, I have yet to meet, wants the very invasive genetic compatibility test done whether I’m willing to consent or not- when I had a little run-in with the vice-marshal.”

He looks like he’s ready to say something, so you raise your hand to let him know that he doesn’t get a turn to talk until you’ve finished your piece.

“So I had such a fun little conversation with him. Turns out, can you even believe it, that you apparently had um, a fiance before I came into the picture? And she died under mysterious circumstances?” You cross your arms tightly around your chest, though you don’t let up on the Best Customer Service Voice, because grossly pretending like everything’s okay is the only thing that’s keeping you from completely losing your shit.

Again, he opens his mouth, his eyes narrowing slightly, but you still have more on your plate to say to him.

“The vice-marshal,” he finally says, “is not one to listen to when it comes to rumors.” It takes you a hot minute to realize that he’s angry because he’s not showing the same kind of dictatorial rage that you’ve witnessed with anyone else. His voice is hard, stony, but not with the same cold detachment he uses with his servants… When he opens his mouth to speak, his fangs seem to be a tad more protruding than when he is otherwise relaxed.

You used to think that the moment he gets enraged would be the moment it’s game over for you, so even though you’re still fucking over this, you try to turn the dial a bit. “So it’s not true, then? You weren’t about to marry someone else before she was killed?”

He’s silent a moment before relenting. “No, it is true. Iole and I… it was… it was a radical union, certainly, because of her lowblood status, but…” he takes a deep breath, “yes. I was going to marry her.”

“Low-blood status,” you need him to clarify.

There is a long, drawn-out moment of hesitation, and then he says, “she was a drow.”

“And this is just information that you decided wasn’t pertinent for me to know? Do you just casually put the people you know in mortal danger?” He does, though, you’ve forgotten who you’ve been talking to. Blinded by the gentle gestures and sweet conversation, the stories of his sadistic nature slowly melted away until your guard was so low someone would have to dig to set off any warning bells. Of course, you knew you were walking into danger when you finally accepted the calling, but you didn’t realize that there’s someone out there that would go far enough to try assassination.

“I informed the Starward Matchmakers™ of the threat, and I thought they would pass it on to you,” he says, too steadily for your liking. As if that’s a valid excuse.

“That’s convenient for you.”

“I’m sorry that retelling the story of how I found the love of my life, dead, isn’t something I enjoy speaking of often.” His voice finally raises, and you feel a spike of adrenaline burst through your system.

“But you didn’t even think that this might be information that I would need to know, even after someone tried to fucking kill me?”

“I did not think it would go this far,” he snarls, “but who is to say that the assassination attempt falls under our jurisdiction? You have plenty of your own enemies, from what I understand of your own conveniently unmentioned past.”

You’re so angry you’re shaking, is he seriously going to bring up your work as a valid excuse for his shitty behavior? But still, even in your burning rage, you don’t want to give him any more than you have to. “I’ve never put anyone not willing in the direct line of fire, and that includes knowing the risks involved.”

He stands to his full height, and you find yourself taking a step back instinctually, eyes quickly roaming the immediate area for any weapons that you might be able to use against him. As soon as your eyes fall onto a pen on his desk, then back at him, his entire demeanor changes, and he settles back down, placing his head in his hands. It takes you a minute of the ensuing silence to realize that you’re still trembling, both with adrenaline and anger. But you’re also bristled, tense, fully prepared to fight for your life. You don’t move the step back closer, because something inside you says he might still try to wring your delicately human neck.

“I loved her,” he says, finally. “I really… I really, truly did. I thought that our union would work for the benefit of all castes.”

You stay decidedly silent.

“And I didn’t think it would end that way.”

You don’t want to hear this, you don’t want to see him speak so forlornly about a lover from the past, either. You don’t care, though, you don’t, and you’re very quick to squish that thought back down to a place you never intend on revisiting. There’s a soft thrumming in the back of your head again, there’s nothing more you’d like to do than to lay down.

“I told my mother I would marry again, but on my own terms.” He sets his hands back down on the desk, looking up at you with those glassy, emotionless eyes. “The best possible match, scientifically proven, the universe’s union, etcetera, you know the advertisement they put out.”

You swallow thickly.

“And the deal was that if I matched with no one, then that was it. I could do as I please, and she would leave me be. I made the deal because I was so, so certain that Iole was my soulmate. Some people don’t get matched, you know. People whose soulmates just don’t have the money to put into the program, or people whose soulmates are dead. I thought I would be the latter. I thought this would buy me more time. And it did, at first. No one in the database matched with me… until you.”

Until you drunkenly stumbled out of a bar with someone, neon lights glittering your vision, bitter, angry, sullen, and reckless. You take a deep, steadying breath, holding your hand out to stop him from saying whatever it is that he plans on saying next. “Losing someone close to you…” your chest tightens, but you continue, “it fucking sucks. I get it, I really do, but that doesn’t give you a pass from any of the consequences at hand.” So I know whether or not to cut my losses and run.

He doesn’t react negatively, only… like he’s defeated. His torso slumps forward, resting his chin on one of his hands, staring blankly at the empty screen on the desk. “And… and what of your past relationships? Do I get to learn about the romances of a rogue pilot?”

Again, there’s a spike of anger churning in your blood. “Mindless, random hookups don’t hold a goddamn candle to a person you plan on marrying and you know it.”

“Do I?” He asks, getting angry again, but doesn’t try threatening you with his size. Instead, he stays carefully still, his hands folded on the desk. “How many people have you ever slept with? Do you even know the number?”

“Does it even matter? Do my past relationships somehow make me less of a person?”

He makes a face, then, and you can see, yes, he does think that way.

You bristle immediately, arms crossing over your chest again, and you take in a deep, shaking breath. The judgment is what gets to you, just how he thinks he can categorize you in some kind of box. “I want to go home.”

Panic, at least, you think the way he tenses is because of some kind of panic. You hope it’s panic. His voice, at least, is a bit tighter and more strained than before. “That might not be the best step to take at this moment.”

“I think that it’s the best step for me to take actually, because I really don’t like it here.” And I’m not sure if I like you, either.

After a moment of staring at you, probably gauging just how serious that statement is, he rubs his jaw, looking back down to the desk. There’s a pinch of fear in your system because he could just… keep you here. You have no power, and he knows this, so in the few moments of deathly silence, you feel him thinking about it. Finally, he says, “let’s… let’s not be so hasty with such decisions.”

“Hasty? What about this is being hasty?” The muscles in your arm tighten in the expectation of a physical fight. “I’ve been here for a while, and we aren’t getting along, so maybe it’s time for us to part ways.”

“That is the exact definition of hasty, you’ve only been here for what, a few weeks? How long have you managed to hold onto a single romantic relationship for?”

You want to stomp your foot back down on the ground. “That has absolutely nothing to do with me wanting to leave.”

“I think it does.” Aksanos taps his fingers on the desk. “Have you ever been in a committed relationship?”

Thinking about your committed business relationships, you nod, angrily.

“Who?” He asks, and at your weak shrug, he lets out a sigh. Both of you are completely silent, staring at each other, daring the other to break the quiet first. Then, after a few moments, he lets out another huff of breath and leans back. “I’ll have Elias send you a full report on your android assistant directly.”

“I want to leave.”

“I know.” He finally looks you in the eye again. “May I convince you to at least wait until your assistant is back online?”

“Do I even have a choice?” You ask sullenly, a direct challenge to his final authority.

“You do,” he says, voice clearly strained.

You pause, then, almost too scared to test it out. Still, you mull the idea over, cutting your losses, making a run for it. Sure, the space marines will be undoubtedly pissed, but you’ve had to lay low before. It’s not anything new. Maybe you’d even be able to open a business in this territory, because surely no one would dare raise a finger on the keias’ soulmate, even if the two of you can’t fucking stand each other. Slowly, you uncross your arms and put them on your hips, trying to unlock your jaw from the straining grit you’ve put in for the argument.

Through your quiet contemplation, there’s a flicker of… tightness? Stress? On his face, and you think it might because he’s afraid that you’re going to fuck right off into the wild unknown and never speak to him again. You’d be lying if you said that that specific scenario didn’t appeal to you in the slightest, because it does. But there’s something else missing from that vision, you don’t know what, so you let out an angry, frustrated breath. “I’ll think it over.”

He relaxes slightly, but you aren’t going to let him think of this as a victory.

“This isn’t a yes or a no, this is an I’ll think about it.” You need a goddamn nap. “Risking my life for the mythical perfect love isn’t fucking worth it, especially if I’m not being respected.”

“Respected? How have you not been respected? You’ve been honored as one of us since you stepped foot off the ship.”

“Not being forthright about information is basically lying!” You throw your hands up in frustration. “You don’t even understand what I’m saying! You’re being so fucking dismissive, and I want to leave because I don’t feel safe, even with all the security modifications you’ve made.”

“The servants are to give you whatever-”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” You’re shaking again, sure your face is bright red in anger.

He’s quiet once more, staring blankly at the wall behind you. “Would… would you like to invite someone you trust to stay with you, in the absence of your assistant?”

Who would you even invite, really? Who do you trust enough to keep their heads low and follow your every direction with no ulterior motives? Well, besides yourself? Your ship, maybe. But definitely not anyone you know. “Have the Starward Matchmakers™ been informed of their personnel malfunction?”

“Not… specifically, no.”

You almost facepalm, but that’s fair, you guess. “It would look remarkably suspicious if I invited someone over without communicating with the main hub first?”

“Does it even matter?” He asks, almost impatiently.

He still doesn’t know. And you plan on keeping it that way. So, carefully, you think about a way you can phrase an answer without planting any suspicion. “I’m just saying, sending for someone when the android assistant is offline with no specific communications with her manufacturers is going to look extremely suspicious. I guess it won’t affect you in any way, so I guess you wouldn’t care.” It would look bad for you, though.

If he had irises t, you’re certain that the prince would be rolling them now. “Fine. I’ll have Elias get in contact with the Starward Matchmakers™ headquarters. Are you certain that there is no one you would like to fetch while they work out what happened?”

The Starward Matchmakers™ are just going to send another one of their android assistants. Do you really want a line going straight to the CEOs who have far too many stakes in this working out than otherwise? Actually, the idea is rather appealing. Maybe if you had someone from a secondary faction, someone outside of the Starward Matchmakers™, but still backed by enough authority to walk right over a faceless but powerful corporation. Best case scenario, the two will just but heads and get nothing done, which leaves you to figure out how best to proceed.

“I guess,” you say, trying to sound noncommittal, “if she wants to come, then I’d like her to be here.”

“Who?” You see he’s already prepping something on his keyboard.

“Clementine Montague.”

#drider #exophilia #citrus #drider/reader #monster/reader #monster lovers

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victorlimadelta · 4 years

Text

Pidge is actually trying to take this a tiny bit seriously. Last night, while she was working on moving her work station into the makeshift pharmaceutical laboratory she’s set up for herself over the last few months, she was putting together a presentation, like it’s a business pitch or a grant funding exercise. Still, it’s easier to illustrate her point when she has diagrams to go off of. The fancy little holograms from her PADD can even be manipulated in real-time in three-dimensional space, for added cool factor.

It also means she can keep her thoughts together as she goes through the theoretical aspects of this with @swordsedge Ulaz. Before she begins, she takes a shot glass, fills it with the Olkari root extract she’s come to love so much, and knocks it back like it’s so much liquor. That should keep her going for the next eight or so hours and stave off the fluorescent-inspired headache she’s guaranteed to get if she works down here too long. She offers some to the Galra in front of her, but he declines. Reasonable. He doesn’t know what it is, and she could have tampered with it, so she’s not offended.

They’d had a brief conversation last night, as well, about how to structure this upcoming week. Pidge had asked Ulaz what the Galra Empire would do for someone who had a genetic degenerative disease. The answer, unsurprisingly, was a mercy cull. For an empire driven by expansion at all costs, a disabled life is not one that can be afforded. Ulaz did show the correct amount of disgust as he explained, at least, which reassured Pidge that he was here for the right reasons, to do the right thing. What wasn’t so reassuring was that he hadn’t actually encountered this specific problem before, as a medical officer.

Tilting her PADD against her empty glass so the holograms can project onto the table, Pidge launches into her explanation. “so, you understand what we need to do here,” Pidge reminds Ulaz. “this is different from just keeping shiro in stasis and keeping disease from progressing. this is total genomic overhaul.” She flicks the first diagram out from her screen to the table, starts spinning it--a puffy little X shape made of squiggles. “what we’re working with is the x chromosome, a location on the short arm called p21.2-p21.1.” When she zooms in with her fingers, there's a noticeable length difference between the two top arms of the chromosome. “there’s a deletion here--not one of the worst, but not in a good place, either. this codes for dystrophin: the protein that builds human muscle. without it, the muscles we’re born with can’t be effectively re-built when they’re damaged. usually, you’d have a backup on the other matching pair in your chromosome set, so your body could just use the one that works and ignore the one that doesn’t, but shiro can’t do that, because he doesn’t have a second x chromosome, he has a y chromosome. which, don’t tell it i said this, but it’s pretty useless, aside from sry. poor little thing. smallest in the human genome.”

This is probably stuff Ulaz already knows. Based on what Pidge surmises about Galra, just from pure conjecture surrounding the fact of Keith’s existence, they also must have a similarly-based biology, with double-helix DNA, ACGT pairs, X/Y sex chromosomes, even the same number and arrangement of chromosomes. Otherwise, Galra wouldn’t be able to reproduce with humans, or proliferate so far with so many other alien races. Still, it helps to start from the common denominator and build up to more complex premises.

Pidge pinches her fingers together, then spreads them to zoom in on her DNA diagram--to the portion that’s missing. “there’s maintaining the dystrophin shiro still has, and there’s teaching his body how to make it for himself. two different things. he already had weakness in his legs, to be expected, but now you’re telling me he’s having trouble breathing. that means his diaphragm can’t repair itself. he’s too weak to work his own lungs. that’s... that’s advanced. the only way it could be worse is if it was in his heart, and we don't know that it's not. so, we can’t just plug this with pharmaceutical intervention. giving him the actual dystrophin protein isn’t, by itself, going to get him where he needs to go. he needs to do it for himself, and he needs to be able to rebuild what’s been lost on top of it. that means...”

Another diagram flicks next to the first. This one's the clip of what's missing. “i have to get this, here, but... everywhere. as far as you're telling me, this is something the galra weren’t even interested in devoting resources to. it’s something humans haven’t quite been able to achieve, even with crispr, our most advanced gene splicing engineering technology. altean alchemy isn’t suited to this, and i can’t see that they've ever attempted a genetic cure, just an amino acid replacement. the olkari seem to find it anathema to attempt it, even with their advanced biohacking abilities. but i’m--we’re not dealing with just one set of medicine. we’re not limited here. i can use all of this accumulated knowledge and make something bigger than the sum of its parts. i just need to run this by you, theoretically speaking, to see if it’s even possible in practice.”

Dismissing the first diagram to focus on the second, she twists her two hands, pulls them apart, and it zooms in on the individual molecules making up the DNA helix: red adenine paired with green thymine, yellow cytosine paired with blue guanine, clumped in threes (that’s a slight liberty with the illustration, but it works for these purposes). “coran’s taught me how to use this lab to make pharmaceutical compounds i thought would be impossible with the materials we have. apparently all you have to do is ask these atoms and molecules nicely to create their bonds. so far i’ve been... moderately successful in using it.” That’s false modesty. Pidge has been able to synthesize a full medication line for Shiro by now, from advanced corticosteroids to muscle relaxers, from gene-targeted therapies to painkillers. “but, i mean, dna is just a bunch of molecules, when you get down to it. huge, snarled-together molecules, but molecules all the same. the backbone of the helix is the same. the a, c, g, t are the same. if i can teach the lab to make the individual components, it’s just an issue of putting the building blocks in the right order and making them stick together. that part, actually making the gene i need, that’s the part i have the most confidence in. i know i can do it. what i don’t know is how much time it’s going to take, or if i can accelerate it by redirecting non-essential ship power to this one resource. and i won’t know for sure until i get started on it. but, the good news is, i know what i need to make and how i need to make it. easy.” Relatively speaking, of course.

The next image Pidge pulls up is entirely new. “this--this part’s more complicated. this little device is crispr. technically it’s a repeating genome sequence that humans synthesized from a bacteria, but you can use it for genome modification. depending on what kind of rna you attach to it, you can use it to snip out genes entirely, or cut and paste from one mis-transposed location to another. notice i didn’t say insert. it needs to get the material from somewhere to insert it in the first place, and creating the right sequence out of nothing was always a little too difficult to stabilize in human trials. plus, there were ethical concerns with using it on stem cell lines. no such worries here. if i use altean alchemy to create the missing piece, and if i use the right rna to point it at xp21.2 through .1, it should plunk it right into place. and there’s no medico-ethical dilemma present for doing this with a full-grown person, like there would be if we were trying to fix it in a zygote. it doesn’t even generate the should-we argument. now, getting the rna to target the right location, and getting the delivery mechanism to be stable, and getting it to lock into place, that’ll be a little more difficult.”

What flashes into the set of images Pidge is using, this time, is a series of ones and zeroes. “that's where the olkari technology comes in. their tiaras use human brainwaves, sent as binary code, to modify messenger rna, to redirect plants on what genes they should be expressing at any given time. it unlocks a gene’s potential. this should be the key to not only targeting the right location for the gene insertion, but also in making sure that it’s getting used correctly to code for dystrophin. the question you’re probably about to ask is, how does this work with dna when dna isn’t written in binary? but it’s not about reading it, it’s about finding it. rna will read it for itself, pull the correct amino acids, and make dystrophin. cells are pretty smart that way.”

Dismissing all those prior symbols, Pidge finally pulls up a diagram of the human body. “so, congratulations. using a series of increasingly unstable chemical reactions pulling from the most advanced medicine, science, engineering, and coding from three different starfaring species, we created, spliced in, and activated exactly one copy of the dystrophin-coding gene, into one cell.” The hologram zooms in to some generic muscle strand of the forearm. “that cell could die before undergoing mitosis. even if it survives, that’s no guarantee that the new, fixed genome will propagate very far, even within the same physical location of the body.” A red flash, indicating failure.

“but, if i’m understanding your research correctly, there’s something you can do with filtered quintessence to not just make it stick around, but to get it to actually change the whole body genome. this is the part that i’m the most skeptical about,” just in case Ulaz couldn't tell from her tone. “i don’t know how quintessence works at the best of times. as far as i care, though, if it does what you say it will, then it can be literal space magic--as long as it works by a set of fixed principles. if you’re saying we can wash out the old genome and, i guess, dye the new one into place by steeping shiro in enough quintessence, it’s worth a try.”

Presentation over. Pidge collapses her diagrams, puts her PADD face-down on the table. When she catches Ulaz’s face, his expression is unreadable. Just like always, really. “so, after all that, i have two questions for you. one, does that sound like something we can, theoretically, even do? i don’t want to waste time or energy on research if it’s not going to pan out in real life. and even if it does, question number two, how much quintessence would it actually take to do something like that? are we talking on the level of a d-cell battery, car battery, aircraft engine, starship-class balmera crystal, the type of energy it would take to hold strand in stasis for eons--what do we need, and can we actually get it?”

#swordsedge #medical /#mortality /#illness /#disease /#long post /

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itsaidanblack · 4 years

Text

◦ × ♛ — intro.

⌠ JACK MULHERN, 23, MALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, AIDAN BLACK! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in KNIFE FIGHTING SKILLS, SWORD TRAINING, PRECISION SHOOTING, FIREARMS & SWAT TRAINING; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (a sarcastic smile, the glint of silver rings, a cloud of cigarette smoke, graffiti on concrete, a flash of crimson). when it’s the (scorpio)’s birthday on 10/28/1998, they always request MOZZARELLA STICKS from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ lily, 19, she/her, gmt ⍀

@gallagherintro

♛ CONNECTIONS PAGE ♛ PINTEREST ♛ ABOUT ♛ STATS ♛ BIOGRAPHY ♛ INTRO ♛

hello hello! i’m back with another child, everyone welcome my british bastard boy aidan. he’s a legacy kid who grew up filthy rich but hates his family and his upbringing, and is just lil bit of a criminal, really!

[ c h a r a c t e r ; ]

&. basics

full name: Aidan Dean Black

nicknames: Dan, Danny

age: 22

orientation: bisexual

relationship status: single

date of birth: october 28th, 1998

hometown: windsor, england

gender: cismale

language(s) spoken: English, French, German

accent: standard british

&. personality

mbti: ISTP

temperament: phlegmatic/choleric

star sign: scorpio

element: water

enneagram type: type 4, the individualist

five positive traits: perceptive, intuitive, determined, independent, resourceful

five negative traits: destructive, pessimistic, blunt, aggressive, temperamental

likes: adrenaline rushes, spray-painting graffiti, hot drinks, going out in the middle of the night, the smell of gasoline, the night sky, knives, london, skateboarding.

dislikes: formal events, his parents, the color yellow, mushrooms, prejudiced people, heavy perfume

bad habits: smoking, doing drugs, drinking

hobbies: graffiti, skateboarding, drinking, getting high, sketching

fears: never amounting to anything, enclosed spaces, heights, needles

[ s t o r y ; ]

background:

aidan grew up in a filthy rich family of spies/assassins as the youngest of six children

his siblings are all very skilled in their respective areas of espionage, and their parents were ruthless and cold towards them to ensure they focused on their training

aidan’s great grandfather was the chief of intelligence at mi5 in the 1950s, so his family has a name and an image already set for them - prim, proper, and excelling in their own unique field of espionage

aidan grew up feeling inadequate - he wasn’t as good as any of his siblings, and his parents were merciless when it came to reminding him of the fact

his siblings weren’t much help either, trained to be the best, they only made his inadequacy more obvious the older they all got

his childhood was filled with training, fancy dinners, being forced to smile and meet friends of the family even if he was bruised and battered from training earlier

aidan began to become insolent, not showing up for training or deliberately failing his homeschooling to piss off his family

his parents were outraged and decided enough was enough, sending him away to a boarding school in america when he was 12

aidan, sick of feeling like he’d never amount to anything, decided to lean into his role as the black sheep of the family

he started to use what he’d been taught against the school, sneaking out at night, graffitiing the walls, stealing things from stores all around london

he actually loved his boarding school when he first began -- enjoying being away from his family, not compared to his siblings, and studying normal subjects instead of things like ‘which artery to sever for the swiftest death’

he amassed a small group of friends, impressing them with his training and ability to break into anything, win fights against the older students, and lockpick

he was able to avoid punishment for a while, and expulsion wasn’t an option when his parents were huge benefactors of the school

so the school adapted, became more vicious in their punishments

started refusing him meals, locking him in cupboards to keep him from sneaking out

and when he started picking the locks of the cupboards, they installed heavy duty padlocks against the doors

this is where he developed his claustrophobia, from being stuck in the closet sometimes even overnight in the pitch black

these punishments eventually wore him down enough that he stopped misbehaving so intensely at the school

and when his parents gave him the ultimatum -- attend a prep school for spies, or stay at the school, he agreed to finally behave and follow his parent’s path for him

despite his misbehaviour, aidan is still very good at what he does - call it genetics, but every member of their family excels at being spies or assassins

when he graduated his prep school with top marks, despite his past bad behaviour, his parents sent him to blackthorne to continue his studies, hoping that by the time he completes college he’ll be good enough to show off, like the rest of his siblings

during his time at prep school, he began to realize that he is bisexual, and fell in love with another legacy boy

their parents, though, were both intensely disapproving of both their sexualities and the relationship itself, and broke them up right before blackthorne

aidan now has a complex about love, and more specifically, the fact that he is incapable and unworthy of actual love

his first year at blackthorne went fine, and aidan actually enjoyed began to enjoy his studies, but he never stopped misbehaving, bitter from his childhood and his parents’ tampering of his relationship

( and also possibly just for the simple joy of constantly having reports sent home about his bad behaviour )

now:

don’t get me wrong - aidan is very good at what he does.

he’s quite the talented marksman and sharpshooter, and given a knife in a fight, he’ll most likely win

even without his legacy name he would have gotten a place at gallagher

he’s a bit of a bastard, at times, and a sullen one, too -- but he doesn’t mean anyone harm

he simply likes to always be honest and says things that are probably best left unsaid

he still sneaks out at night, often, to just be alone and roam around unsupervised, a remnant of both his childhood under constant surveillance, and his time at boarding school where nights were often spent locked in a cupboard

nasty smoking habit developed while at blackthorne, as well as his habit of getting drunk and/or high whenever possible in order to let loose

( he has a very unhealthy relationship with his emotions )

he loves to graffiti, and does so often, as an outlet for his creative drive and desire to vandalize things

but, all in all, he does really like it at gallagher, and doesn’t necessarily want to get kicked out, so he makes sure he’s subtle and not too destructive

he sometimes writes with his five older siblings, although most of them are as bad as his parents - he’s the closest to oscar, his second oldest brother, and kitty, his older sister

he wears a lot of blacks and grays, and basically dresses like an e-boy, but he may or may not stab you if you bring that up

he likes to sketch, but if you tell anyone that he’ll kill you, having had it drilled into him at a young age that art is useless and for people without real talent

he carries a gray butterfly knife around with him everywhere, as it was a gift from his eldest sister for his success at prep school

[ W A N T E D C O N N E C T I O N S ; ]

not-so-friendly ― while aidan is a very charming asshole, he is still sometimes the worst, and i can see a few people he pissed off or insulted or something

partners in crime ― aidan’s a little vagabond, and loves to graffiti stuff and sneak into places he’s not meant to be, and i want some people to get into deep shit with him

family friends ― the black family is quite high-profile, what with his parents running an empire and all of his older siblings being talented spies/assassins themselves, so i can imagine there’s a lot of people at gallagher that he recognizes

blackthorne friends ― aidan went to blackthorne for a year before gallagher, so i want some people who did the transfer with him.

friends ― he may act like an asshole, but he’s a nice asshole

family ― there’s probably a few people related to him roaming around, so if you want a cousin or something let me know!

please hit me up to plot !

#intro #gallagher:intro

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thebibliomancer · 4 years

Text

Essential Avengers: Avengers #205: Shadow of the Claw!

March, 1981

"... And the CLAW shall inherit the Earth!” isn’t even what the villain plan is, come on, cover copy person.

Yellow Claw was going to have a bunch of kids, make them fight to the death, and then the super child was going to inherit the Earth.

The actual cover is neat though. I like how all the red draws attention to the center where red is not.

Yes, I am good at talk about art.

Anyway, last time on Avengers: a woman named Shu Han who had been brought to Yellow Claw’s island to be one of Yellow Claw’s many wives (despite being a genius physicist athlete and could honestly be a superhero in her own right with those skills) sent out a distress signal which was eventually received by the Avengers. A lot of goofy stuff happened, Vision got captured like a dingus, Wasp did none things, a cyborg slime kraken was fought, and eventually Yellow Claw was like ‘whaaaat Shu Han doesn’t love me? Fine, begone!’ and told the Avengers to gtfo his island so he can start living his harem anime protagonist self-insert fic and also take over the world.

Which brings us to now.

After his dingus-like capture, Vision needs to be recharged because photons are his sweet calories and he never diets.

In fact, weirdly, he’s hungrier than usual this time. Sixty-seven whole additional solar units more than usual hungrier.

I don’t know how much a solar unit is. Even as a ballpark. But Iron Man finds it noteworthy so I’m noting it.

Meanwhile, in the only one person sitting room, Wasp retcons some actual actions into the last issue so that her entire screentime wasn’t pointless.

Maybe I should learn to be more patient on multiple part stories.

No. No, its the comic writers who are wrong.

Anyway, while Wasp was spying on Yellow Claw, she noticed some weird equipment in the research lab, including a lot of tubes filled with odd, sparkly mist.

Unfortunately, that’s all she managed to see before Yellow Claw told the Avengers to gtfo his island.

Which leaves them without much they can do about Yellow Claw.

Sure, they suspect he’s up to something. Hell, Iron Man would even admit that they know he’s up to something.

But being able to prove it is a different matter. And since Yellow Claw’s island is in disputed waters, moving without proving could lead to political fallout.

Captain America: “Iron Man is right. If we had proof that the Yellow Claw poses a global threat, international law would allow us to investigate. But as it is, we don’t have a single, tangible clue to--”

And then Jarvis walks in and tells them that the Yellow Claw’s top assistant, Dr. William Liu, is here to speak with them.

The timing this man has. Outstanding.

They scan the man to make sure he’s not walking in with a bunch of laser guns stuffed down his pants and then let him in.

And Dr. Liu pleads for the Avengers to help him. Cap asks why they should help or even trust one of Yellow Claw’s men.

Dr. Liu: “I could no longer live with the horrible nature of the master’s plan! That is why I secretly left the island, hoping that my absence would go unnoticed until I could reach you, and tell you of-- AAAGGHH!”

He doesn’t get to finish his warning because his crotch suddenly explodes.

I don’t know how else to describe it.

Apparently Yellow Claw rigged his assistant to explode in case of treachery or just for funsies. A barely alive, crotch exploded apparently a cyborg all along Dr. Liu realizes that Yellow Claw must have remotely activated his destruct code.

He gives the Avengers some coordinates in Australia and begs them to stop Yellow Claw.

Dr. Liu: “... Y-you must stop... the Claw! Y-you’re the only hope for... the children...!”

And then he dies. And based on panels, it seems like his chest exploded more than his crotch. His pants are intact.

This was the proof the Avengers needed to act, so as soon as Dr. Liu’s body is carried away by ambulance, the Avengers prepare to leave.

But Jarvis finds a note on Vision’s door begging leave from the mission.

Vision: “I regret that I have not yet recuperated to the point where I may participate in Avengers’ activities. Please understand. I do not wish to be disturbed.”

What an oddly formal ‘I’m sick, don’t come in’ letter to pin to your door.

Iron Man is perplexed since he oversaw Vision’s recharge himself and the solar gas tank should be full. But Scarlet Witch says that Vision has his reasons to do things and they should just carry on without him.

So off they go in the Quinjet.

But as soon as they take off, Vision goes to take the second Quinjet.

Why, he’s not sick in his room at all!

Hours later, the Avengers arrive in Australia, of course passing over a kangaroo, or else how would we know its Australia?

And at the coordinates poor exploded Dr. Liu gave them, they find a cave. And in the cave they find a secret base where that sparkle gas Wasp saw being loaded onto three missiles.

Y’know. I think I gave Vision too much shit last time for his stealth fail. Because the Avengers as a whole get spotted while they’re scoping out the missile cave.

Black Panther needs to give them all some refresher learning.

MEANWHILE, though. Back at Yellow Claw’s island, Vision ditches his Quinjet and intangibles into Yellow Claw’s base.

When he reaches Yellow Claw’s throne slash harem room where Yellow Claw welcomes him back and asks him how the hell he discovered he had been tampered with.

Vision explains: 1) that he required extra power to recharge, 2) that he detected ultra-wave radiation being emitted from Dr. Liu when he blew up, 3) detected the same radiation from his own bad self. Thus he deduced that he had been altered to be an unwitting mole through which the Yellow Claw could spy on the Avengers and that the alteration was what was draining extra power.

Also why Vision ditched the Avengers and came here instead.

And it was all a very smart move up until it was a dumb one.

Yellow Claw was prepared that Vision might figure things out and show up again so the doorway had a Vision trapping trap installed in it and now Vision is trapped in the Vision trapping trap.

After all his ‘I’ve come alone to defeat you’ bravado, Vision can now only defiantly claim “the other Avengers will turn your dreams into dust!”

You Tried, Vision. You Tried.

But Yellow Claw isn’t done having been one step ahead of things yet.

See, he let Dr. Liu escape and warn the Avengers because based on the broken into vent he knew that Wasp had been in his base and probably saw enough to suspect something was up. The coordinates Dr. Liu gave the Avengers was a trap!

A trap of three strong mooks with really dumb names.

Bludgeoner, Transformer, and Compressor.

Guarantee these guys won’t be recurring.

Anyway. Iron Man and Jocasta repulsor and eyeeeeee beam at the three so Transformer can readily demonstrate why his name when he absorbs the energy and blasts it back at them.

And Bludgeoner and his big hammer hands bludgeon Wonder Man and Captain America.

And Compressor, why if you guessed that his big ol cheese grater hands compress the air between them to put the squeeze on anyone stuck between, ... wow. That’s a really good guess.

You’re good at comic books, friend!

Scarlet Witch uses a hex bolt to drop a stalactite on Compressor to free Beast but the fly swatter hands man crushes the rock and shoots the shrapnel back at Scarlet Witch.

And Wasp is as useless as she often is. Sigh.

Iron Man tries to swing behind Compressor and repulsor him but Compressor blasts air and sends Iron Man SKRRUURRUNCH into the cave dirt, carving up a furrow.

Sure, this has been only two pages but this is a bad showing against three dinguses with dumb names. I mean for crying out loud, a man named Compressor just bodied a guy called Iron Man.

Back at the Claw Cave... no, wait, that’s confusing. The Avengers are fighting in a cave. The Claw Condo? Back at the Claw Condo, Yellow Claw tells Vision that hey his friends are going to die gruesome and frankly embarrassing deaths but maybe Vision could eke out a little win for himself.

Claw has long platonically admired his construction and capabilities and with Dr. Liu exploded, he does need a new second-in-command.

To sweeten the pot, he’ll even explain his villainous plot because I’m sure we’ve all been wondering about that.

Yellow Claw: “You see, my line was created to rule this planet -- though mankind has stupidly resisted that inevitability. But now, despite the chemical concoctions that prolong my existence, I grow old. My years are numbered. And that is why I selected these women, exemplary in both body and mind, to assure a form of immortality.

For each shall bear me a son, and in time those sons shall fight each other to the death! The survivor, the fittest, shall then fulfill my fate by becoming supreme ruler of the Earth!

Though I swear, he’ll not be subjected to the same obstinacy, to the blind sense of human freedom that has frustrated me for these many decades!

For within those cryogenic storage banks is genetic material gathered from the world’s most physically and mentally perfect humans! And from that matter, my heir will create a new order, a new population, all raised to obey by a single edit: unswerving reverence to my son!”

Vision: There is a flaw to your logic, Claw. You seem to forget that there are already several billion people on this planet -- people who will never serve the likes of you.

Yellow Claw: Ah, once more you underestimate me. For at this very moment, the missiles at my Australian launch base are being readied for take-off. Once in orbit around the Earth, they will dock with my private spacecraft.

Then at my command, they will release a specially formulated vapor, one which will permeat the entire planetary atmosphere, rendering everyone on the globe -- except for those here in my closed-environment sanctuary -- irrevocably sterile!

With no children being born, the Earth will be barren in the space of a few generations -- barren save for the followers of the new Yellow Claw!”

Okay, so, credit where it’s due.

That’s a VERY evil plan.

Sterilize planet, replace humanity with genetically servile slave race, make babies fight to the death for the right to rule that whole shebang.

In terms of a dick move that's a major league one.

So when Yellow Claw asks if Vision will become his new number Liu, Vision answers: “Perhaps, miscreant. Perhaps I will join you... in hell!”

Yellow Claw isn’t too bothered by the refusal and even decides to let Vision have a front row seat to his plan being fulfilled.

And I don’t mean tying him to the front of one of the missiles.

I mean, Yellow Claw’s throne room launches from his base as a hot rod pink spaceship, sold separately.

Back at the Avengers fight, Wasp does a thing.

Honestly, its a pleasant surprise.

Her powerset of ‘be small, shoot tiny lasers’ not being much of a help, she thinks outside the box. She scoops some dirt from the cave floor and jams it into Bludgeoner’s arm joints to slow him down.

And then Wonder Man clocks him in the face. Who bludgeons the bludgeoners indeed.

It does go to show that a ‘useless’ power like Wasp’s can actually be very useful if you write her smart. A superhero team should be more than just big punches, more than just spectacular powers. Wasp has great combo potential for playing things strategic and that should be something the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes are too.

Beast realizes that Wasp had a really good idea. The Avengers outnumber these three jokers so why not gang up on them with teamwork? Besides, they’re not working together in any way so the Avengers might as well.

So Beast grabs Transformer’s shield arm to leave him open for Jocasta to OPTIC BLAST!

And Cap throws his mighty shield to know Compressor’s arms apart so Iron Man can kick him in the face.

Which is impressive since Iron Man was flat on his ass in the immediately previous panel.

Apparently this was a gaffe caused by the pages being edited separately and the error not being caught before the book went to print.

As far as things go, not the worst error! I didn’t even notice it until it was pointed out.

Anyway, in a fit of pique from his dumb name dudes losing the fight, Yellow Claw kliks a button. The goons join hands or whatever weapon they have passing for hands and then they blow up.

Yellow Claw: “It is done. It cost the lives of three worthy operatives but at last -- the Avengers are dead!”

Ah, villains. Always ready to flip the board if they start losing.

And with the Avengers totally dead for realsies no foolin’ Yellow Claw is free to launch his missiles full of sterility vapors.

Actually, he could do that by remote so I don’t know why he had to wait for the Avengers to be explode. He could have just launched the missiles while they were busy fighting.

Anyway.

With the Avengers dead I guess the book will be about- can’t think of a good one for that recurring goof. So yeah, the Avengers aren’t dead.

Scarlet Witch used her powers to shield the team just in the nick of time.

Captain America: “Thanks, Wanda. If you hadn’t cast that protective hex sphere around us just in time...!”

Scarlet Witch: “Don’t mention it, captain. I rather enjoy being alive myself!”

Although, I didn’t know she could just shield people with her powers like that. Unless she altered the probability that explosions hurt so that they didn’t. Yes, that sounds plausible.

The two flying members of the team, Iron Man and Wonder Man fly out of the cave after the missiles, still determined to save the days as heroes often do.

The missiles launch into orbit and then something really goofy happens.

I’ve been saying missiles because the comic has been saying missiles and I guess they are technically missiles. But if I asked you to imagine a supervillain launching some missiles full of a chemical weapon, would you imagine this?

When the missiles launch into orbit they link up with Yellow Claw’s hot rod pink spaceship.

When I first saw this, I thought: is he going to launch them again from his spaceship? A bit of an unnecessary additional step.

But no. That is not what is going on here.

The man is just super committed to his iconography. The missiles join the spaceship and then bend to make it clear its supposed to resemble a claw.

That’s the kind of goofy nonsense I’m here for.

Iron Man and Wonder Man show up, to Yellow Claw’s alarm, and try to attack the hot pink spaceship but bounce off uselessly. The thing is protected by a strong force field.

Yellow Claw probably goes ‘phew’ internally and gets on with his evil plan.

With the missiles bent, as missiles are known to do??, to resemble claws, they can begin to spray the sterility gas into the atmosphere.

Yellow Claw: “Soon, it will be over! When enough vapors are released to mingle with the entire atmosphere -- the shadow of the Claw shall cover the Earth!”

And with things looking grim, Vision decides that things are down to him. I mean he did go off alone and is now stuck inside the enemy’s spaceship. He’s in a good position to mess things up.

So stuck suspended in a trap, he increases his density and mass to his limit and beyond! One ton, two, further!

The energy bubble holding him gives way to his weight, allowing him to make contact with the deck of the ship. Adding his weight to that of the ship and throwing it out of orbit.

The ship will crash into Earth and at this point, it can’t be stopped.

Yellow Claw is fairly pissed.

He smashes the device holding Vision captive and then starts trying to kill him with his bare hands.

And he’s capable of hitting Vision when he’s intangible because he studied Vision while he was a prisoner, the first time he was a prisoner. And created circuity to his metal sleeves that lets him tangible the intangible.

And thus he tries to strangle Vision.

I’m not sure he needs to breathe. Probably why Yellow Claw is punching him instead in later panels.

Vision points out that this fight is fairly pointless and that Yellow Claw could be using this time to escape but Yellow Claw is determined that he get something accomplished today.

And then the ship crashes into the ocean.

A short time skip later and the Avengers have parked the Quinjet on the ocean (it buoyant) and are searching for the Vision.

How did they know the Vision was here? Didn’t they think he was recuperating back at the mansion?

Apparently another gaffe but one that could be handwaved. Earlier in the issue when the three dumbnames appeared, Yellow Claw appeared on a monitor to taunt the Avengers and Vision was visible behind him. Captain America even appears to be pointing at Vision like ‘hey I know that guy from work.’

So conceivably they knew he was with Yellow Claw when his ship crashed.

Iron Man gives up on searching the ocean, not being able to find the Vision in the water but Vision just peaces in from the sky. He intangible’d out the ship just before the crash. He’s totally fine.

Scarlet Witch: “I am glad that you are safe, my husband. And I’m glad that the danger has ended.”

Vision: “No, my love. Though it is true that the Yellow Claw is dead, that he will no longer plague us with his particular form of madness -- there are too many others like him, others who would rise to power by crushing the freedom that is every being’s birthright.

And as long as any of them remain unchallenged -- the danger will never end.”

With that, Vision sort of stares out across the ocean moodily. Because a true Avengers story ends with someone staring at something moodily.

And I dunno! Maybe it was the extended break from doing this liveblog but this two-parter wasn’t as bad as I dreaded.

Supposedly, part of the impetus of the story was to do a last hurrah story for Yellow Claw and then shove him under some furniture because his yellow peril character concept was growing increasingly awkward.

After one more story in Marvel Fanfare with Cap, Yellow Claw was shelved for nearly three decades.

And man launches sterility gas missiles into space to form a giant claw to make it so that his successor can repopulate the Earth with a new, freedom hating breed of humanity is pretty great as far as comic book nonsense goes.

Although, in retrospect, I’m realizing that this was basically the same plan the Sentinels that kidnapped Scarlet Witch had.

Sterilize the planet with Wanda’s magical uterus and then replace humanity with a genetically engineered kind that could not mutate.

Comic books are weird.

Next time: Human Torch guest stars. Everything is on fire.

Follow @essential-avengers or like or reblog or send me questions or tell me I’m doing an okay job or do nothing. There are many choices available. But I would appreciate feedback.

#Avengers #the Vision #Yellow Claw #essential marvel liveblogging #essential avengers #Wasp #Jocasta #Beast #Wonder Man #Captain America #Iron Man

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rivetgoth · 4 years

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OC #5 - Giorgio Marcello

Okay! Here’s another OC profile. Admittedly I’ve been dreading this one because to be honest Giorgio is probably my worst/one of my worst OCs morally and I gained like a dozen followers this week LOL, but I guess this is the chance for y’all to really see how stupid some of these characters are. *thinking* Anyway, he’s much more of a villain character, and he’s probably the only character of mine where I really felt the need to throw a big “I don’t condone his actions” stamp on him, because while I obviously don’t write any of my characters to be morally commendable I think Giorgio is good at being especially deplorable. He’s very fun though. I think absolutely irredeemably bad characters who are still stylish and obnoxious are really fun to work with ;D

Giorgio is the older half brother of Giovanni and Vittoria. He’s in his early forties and… bi. While Giovanni and Vittoria are the product of their father’s second marriage, Giorgio is a product of the first. He has an elder full blood brother, Antonio, and a twin brother, Matteo. All three of them were really spoiled as kids, their parents Vittorio and Maria loved them dearly and even after Maria died Vittorio remained very fond of them. However, because it was only fair, Antonio was destined to inherit the majority of the Marcello Candy Company as the oldest child, but Giorgio and Matteo were still loved and extremely spoiled and encouraged to become powerful, high-ranking members of the Fresno Megalopolis. So Giorgio grew up in a strange spot, where he was not necessarily his father’s favorite, but he was still spoiled and loved dearly, but he always felt that hint of inferiority and desperation to prove himself and get on top. As adults, Matteo would end up becoming a high ranking officer and eventual a captain of the Street Patrol, the Fresno police force, and Giorgio would go to medical school to become a successful celebrity plastic surgeon at Himmel Medicine.

Giorgio is interested in glamour and beauty and pushing the limits of the human body to achieve perfection. He doesn’t really care if anybody lives or dies as long as it moves forward his research. He frequently undergoes surgeries of his own, sometimes even operating on himself directly for fun, constantly changing his look entirely. He looks like the product of countless, extensive plastic surgeries, and he’s always adding to the changes and modifying his looks in new and exciting ways. On a physical level alone he’s very inspired by people like Pete Burns. In the public eye he’s very charming. Many people adore him, considering him a pioneer of the medical world and a crucial figure of Fresno, although many people (including his younger half sister, Sofia, an avid activist against the treatment of her family to the rest of the city) are also very vocally against his inhumane experiments and lack of consideration for any life but his own… But with the power he has between both Himmel Medicine and the Marcello Candy Company backing him up, he tends to manage to get away with almost anything.

Matteo and Giorgio are extremely close... maybe too close, if you know what I mean, but nothing has necessarily been proven to the public about the extent of their relationship. Either way, through his connections at Himmel, Giorgio has been able to actively “partner” with the Street Patrol and specifically his brother many times. In fact, Giorgio was a huge advocate for Himmel buying out the Street Patrol force and the prison complex, so that Himmel would be able to arrest criminals and drag them straight to the operating room. And, if crime rates have been low and Giorgio is restless, bored, or feeling inspired, he can convince Matteo to go out and find someone who won’t be missed and arrest them for whatever he can possibly charge them on, no matter how much of a stretch it is, giving Giorgio a new plaything.

He’s pioneered a number of experimental surgeries, and what he finds the most fascinating is experimenting with living creatures on a genetic level, tampering with their DNA and genetic structure and modifying their very cells. One of his first “successful” projects was creating a genetically enhanced super-K9 for the Street Patrol, as a gift to his brother. Although it took the “sacrifice” of countless litters of puppies, he eventually was able to bioengineer a german shepherd beast at least triple the size of a regular shepherd and significantly more vicious. A typical Street Patrol K-9 can’t be near anything except the Patrol officer assigned to it, or it’ll do everything in its power to maul it to death. These are terrible and aggressive animals that should never have been born. They tend to look kind of awful and rotting, because the experiment still wasn’t completely perfect upon releasing the first batch, and the dogs’ flesh couldn’t fully grow and stretch around the size of the enhanced canines, making it look like it’s covered in exposed muscle and horribly stretched skin. It’s a really terrible animal that’s killed plenty of poor people, and, since animals are easier to get ahold of for testing than people, Giorgio continues to work with dogs, trying to perfect his K-9 creation, further the designer pet market, as well as using them as early test subjects for eventual human experiments as well.

Once Giorgio had moved up from dogs he began experimenting with splicing and modifying genetics in humans. One of his early experiments for such a thing was the Icarus Project, which involved sewing non-human, artificial body parts to humans as a form of extreme cosmetic surgery. Angel Steel was the primary subject of Giorgio’s major experiment within the Icarus Project, which involved grafting huge, artificial angel wings into Angel’s muscles and flesh and nervous system. Thenceforth, as Angel was trapped within Himmel’s control, Giorgio and Angel had an extensive relationship together. Giorgio was endlessly amused by Angel and saw him as something of a muse. He saw him as a living doll and would endlessly experiment with him and toy with him, careful for one of the first times in his life not to kill his subject. Giorgio frequently bribed and drugged Angel with the heavily addictive candies he received in bulk from his father’s company. For Giorgio, this was perhaps the closest he had ever come to feeling like he truly “loved” someone. He awkwardly would attempt to keep Angel chained to him emotionally in whatever way possible, such as genetically engineering puppies and insisting that he and Angel were to raise them together. He never really cared at all about Angel’s actual well being though, and what he didn’t realize was that over the course of this relationship Angel was successfully gathering bits and pieces of information that would eventually lead to his escape. A heartbroken Giorgio would put a bounty on his head and label him a dangerous terrorist to the public, stating that he would reward whoever brought him Angel’s body, alive or dead, with a hefty reward.

...Which brings me to another one of Giorgio’s experiments, Leatherette, who is one of the bounty hunters that Giorgio sends out after Angel. Leatherette is going to get his own post as well (I might do him next, actually), but to keep things short, he was once a member of the Street Patrol and a close friend to Matteo, and after attempting to defect, was arrested and brought directly by Matteo to Giorgio, telling him to do whatever he wished to him. Giorgio used Leatherette as a guinea pig for the next step of the Icarus Project, moving beyond grafting external things to the body and now beginning to tamper with humans on a genetic level, specifically by attempting to insert animal DNA into a living being. Afraid that adding too much would kill his subject, he spliced only a small amount of bull DNA with Leatherette’s preexisting DNA, creating a sort of minotaur bull-man monster out of him, and partnering with Himmel’s neurology department to brainwash him into a sort of soldier for Himmel… More on all of that later.

Giorgio’s experiments moved forward from there to creating 200%ers, people spliced with an entire living creature - Think of The Fly. When Brundle and the fly go through the machine together, they come out a single thing. 100% human and 100% fly. This, with some more control, is what Giorgio expands his operations to. Thus, the living being to come out the other end would be 200% alive. One of the first people to undergo this operation is Cosmo Halloway, Vittoria’s boyfriend. I’m going to talk about him soon too, but basically, he splices himself with a snake and becomes half snake.

Currently, one of Giorgio’s main concerns is that he cannot genetically modify unborn humans without killing the fetus. He can modify dogs but genetically modified human fetuses are consistently stillborn. This is a problem alongside his other main focus, which is removing the sterility that happens whenever a 200%er is created, since, similar to the way a donkey and a horse mating results in sterile offspring, a human splicing their DNA with another creature leaves them sterile. It’s a work in progress, and he doesn’t really care how many people have to die and how many infants are born stillborn to get his desired results.

Giorgio finds something very erotic in the surgery process and the intimacy of the “penetration” once someone is cut open. He sleeps with patients often, entirely regardless of gender, and even outside of the operating room he enjoys things like knifeplay. He doesn’t really see other people as people at all, but as “canvasses” for his art, which are his experiments. He doesn’t really have any moral decency whatsoever and is happy to exert his power to get his way in any scenario. He’s a very vocal advocate for far right late capitalism where the local megacorps that run the world - Himmel, in particular, of course - get a limitless amount of power. He’s entirely depraved and debauched. And the thing is, because he’s so successful, he’s just allowed to keep doing what he does. No one has stopped him yet, and he’s still a hugely prolific figure in Fresno. He’s good at putting on a smile when he’s in the public eye and insisting that what he does is for the common good. He has a lot in common with Giovanni in the sense that he’s very flamboyant and adores glamour, but unlike GIovanni, who lives with quite a bit of guilt and self-hate to the point that he finds it in himself to self-reflect at times and regret his actions or be aware of other people’s existence, Giorgio never has those moments… except, perhaps briefly, when Angel Steel ran away. But by then it was far too late (to fix what he had done or learn from it).

Giovanni and Vittoria want nothing to do with Giorgio. Although he didn’t outright beat Giovanni as Antonio did, he was always full of snide remarks and cruel comments towards both Giovanni and Vittoria. Vittoria eventually ends up forced to interact with him a bit, as her boyfriend is so entangled in Giorgio’s experiments now, but they’re not on remotely good terms. Giorgio is especially close to Matteo, of course, and also frequently enjoys the company of Antonio, although even Antonio finds him easy to get annoyed by. He’s really a terrible person.

#daily OC talk

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thanksjro · 4 years

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Eugenesis, Part Six Scene Six: Jolup Sinks Rewind’s Ship

You sure as shit have, sugarplum.

It’s time to get the down-low on everyone’s favorite severely-depressed detective.

So, hey, remember waaaaay back in Part One, when Nightbeat used his deadname to sign a report accidentally? It’s okay if you don’t, because I sure did.

God, that was ages ago, wasn’t it? Anyway, that string of numbers is his biocode, which I guess sort of functions as his social security number. So, if any of y’all wanna go ahead and steal his identity, I’m not gonna say anything.

Now, that’s a mighty low number for a Transformer. Strikingly low, even. Turns out that Nightbeat wasn’t biomorphically created, but rather cold constructed. Cold construction as a term didn’t exist within the canon when this was written- trust me, I checked. Sure, robots were built, as opposed to bursting from another’s torso like an over-microwaved hotdog, but they usually turned out like the Dinobots… that is to say, not exactly smart.

Cold construction was an experiment, trying to build Transformers outside of the messy lines of “genetics" and “family lineage”, and as it turns out, the first batch didn’t come out as expected. Or, at least, Nightbeat didn’t.

Hey there, friends. Just a head’s up, before I try to tackle this: I am, as far as I’m aware, neurotypical. With that in mind, let’s take a look at what may be an honest attempt at inclusion for a neurodivergent take on a character in a story published in 2001.

Now, some of these snippets look kind of harsh at face value, but let’s take a closer look. Everything harsh isn’t really Nightbeat putting himself down, but rather him quoting what others have said. Notice the use of quotation marks. Think back to Part One, how he was treated by his peers- they treat him like everyone else, they respect him, they trust his input. Hell, Rodimus himself wanted Nightbeat on the mission to go get Optimus from the past. Nobody who’s been in the story has tried to belittle Nightbeat for being wired differently. That’s fucking phenomenal treatment of a character like him in the early 2000’s.

I’m probably out of my depth here, but it seemed worthwhile to mention.

Anyway, back to the plot.

Right, that.

Nightbeat gets pulled out of his inner monologue when Red Alert asks if he’s okay, since he’s been staring off into space for the last little while. They’re still waiting for Optimus to show up, and everyone’s starting to get antsy. It’s hot as hell over by this collapsing wormhole, which isn’t helping them settle either.

Something finally comes up over the horizon, but you and I both know that it wouldn’t be Eugenesis if things just got on smoothly, now would it? Quantax starts firing on the team of Transformers, while he gets nervous about the wormhole still being there. He decides that if it is, he’ll jump back to this exact point in time to show himself that it is. This is a stupid plan, for a lot of reasons.

Good idea, Quantax.

While he’s trying to come up with something better, someone lands a lucky shot and takes his ship down. Trailbreaker goes to see who it is, I guess because he isn’t aware of what happened the last time a Transformer went to go see Quantax.

Oh no, he’s been turned into The Transformers The Movie Prowl!

Before anyone can try and save Trailbreaker’s stupid ass, the Quintessential Flying Fucks show up. Nightbeat’s not having it- he orders his team to take them down.

The Quintessential Flying Fucks are here for the wormhole as well, but they’ll be taking out the Autobots beforehand. While everyone else handles the Fucks, Nightbeat chases after Quantax, who just bolted for the temple.

Nightbeat catches up and tackles him to the ground, only to get himself pummeled for his efforts. As the blows rain down, Nightbeat tries to reason with Quantax that the wormhole is dangerous and shouldn’t be tampered with. Not sure why he thinks this would ever work, but alright.

Quantax, pal, do I have some friggin’ news for you.

Quantax pulls out of Nightbeat’s hold to hide in the shadows, only to jump out and slash him once he gets close enough.

I hope nothing bad happens to Muzzle here. I feel like Nightbeat really would snap if that orb got broken.

Trying to buy some time, Nightbeat tells Quantax about the futility of trying to change the past, the future, simply because it’s all already laid out, and has been from the beginning. Quantax doesn’t take the jab well, jumping out at Nightbeat again and stabbing him in the stomach, spilling his guts. Nightbeat uses the slump of his body to topple the both of them into the hole in the floor.

Outside the temple, Centurion’s wondering just how the fuck he’s still alive. Jolup’s got him by the throat, his legs have gone AWOL, and he honestly just wants to go home at this point. Jolup’s about to drop the poor guy in a conveniently-placed pool of lava, when Optimus finally shows up.

He, Thundercracker, and Astrotrain- who I’d legitimately forgotten was in this novel- are all pointing their weapons at Jolup, and demand he put the cinnamon roll down and back away slowly. It’s a sweet gesture. Too bad Centurion’s already dead, though.

With a grand, villainous flourish, he drops Centurion into the lava, where he promptly explodes, then flies off for the temple. Astrotrain pursues, as Optimus orders Thundercracker to find Nightbeat and get back to the eighties.

Sevax is in the middle of a scrape with Hound, about to be shot to death. Looks like it’s all over for this son of a gun.

Or not. Man, there goes Rewind’s weird coworker ship. Too bad, he’d already written a huge chunk of his slowburn Ultra Magnus/Hound coffeeshop AU slashfic.

Jolup tells Sevax to slap a bandaid on it and get ready to go while he goes and grabs Ryknia.

Back inside the temple, Nightbeat is clinging to Quantax like his life depends on it- because it does. They’re both hanging off the edge of a hole that’s filled with molten lava. Quantax pulls himself up with his very strong arms, just in time to stand up and immediately be shot back into the pit. Nightbeat dares to dream a dream almost too beautiful- that Optimus is here to save him, like the romance novel protagonist he is!

No such luck. It’s just the Quintessential Flying Fucks. But how did they shoot Quantax? Didn’t he make that impossible? Good thing they dragged Trailbreaker along for the ride, and also good thing he’d managed to keep hold of his gun. Loopholes are fun.

The Fucks run for the wormhole, and all Nightbeat can think to do at this point is stand in front of it and hope for the best. Or maybe the least worst, in this case.

But… but the lore!

Nightbeat gets them with the device as they go through the portal, thus wiping everything from their brains and assumedly dooming them to a short, brutal loop for the rest of time. Thus the plight of the Quintessential Flying Fucks draws to a flaccid and confusing close. I had a feeling this might happen. I was hoping it wouldn’t, though.

Thundercracker soars through the wormhole next, and Nightbeat manages to hit him with the mindpurge just as he crosses the barrier. He’s not even sure if it’s working anymore at this point.

Then Optimus gets there, and it’s time to take him back. They hold hands, click their heels three times, say “there’s no place like home”, and step into 1984. Optimus stares at the collection of almost-dead robots on the Ark, not really feeling the scene, as Nightbeat blathers on. He offers to let Optimus keep his memories of 2013, so he can try and prevent his own death. Optimus… well…

And then he gives Nightbeat a gun and tells him to shoot him until he’s basically dead. Which he does, once the guy’s had the entirety of the last few days scrubbed out of his head. There’s an actual reason for this, though I won’t lie, I kinda freaked out a little when I first got to this part. In order for Aunty to reformat Optimus into his fresh new Earth bod, he needs to be injured enough for the scans to pick up. While this is happening, we also get an explanation for why the 1984 Decepticons got reformatted too- the mindpurge dropped and rolled under the counter while Nightbeat was busy murdering his celebrity crush, and wiped the entire history of the war out of the ship’s database. Now it didn’t see Autobots and Decepticons, but rather just a whole slew of injured robots. So if we want to end prejudice, what we need to do is mindwipe our cars and then shoot our dads in the chest. Gotcha.

And then Mount St. Hilary erupts. Time to go.

Back in 2013, Astrotrain’s been reduced to being transportation, as he always is, and the team’s watching the wormhole cook the atmosphere around it from a good fifty miles away. Fun fact, the curvature of the earth makes it so that we can’t see more than eight miles in any given direction from sea-level. Even though they’re holed up in a building right now and arguably above sea-level, I can’t help but wonder just how friggin’ big Cybertron must be for them to be able to see this right now.

Genocide’s over! Time to break out the booze.

Nightbeat’s taking his sweet time, but it isn’t for a lack of trying. He’s been dodging the repair beams, trying not to kick dead people in the head as he scrambles for the portal. He gets there eventually, the wormhole now running so hot he literally bursts into flames and his eyes melt out of his head as he passes through.

There’s my macabre little man! Back to normal at last. All’s well that ends well!

The wormhole explodes as it shuts down behind him.

Hours after, things finally cool down enough for a rescue team to go try and find survivors.

Motherfuckin’-

NO.

NO, NIGHTBEAT, YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED.

That’s the end of Part Six.

#transformers #jro #eugenesis #part six #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #prose writing

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angryangryaces · 5 years

Text

Poison

The air smells of rain, burning fuel, and the countless small poisons that circulate in the city, and my scars ache in the cold, a filigree of pain tracing out the lines of my skeleton. My damned, addicted brain is hissing for me to press the button. I don’t listen to it. I throw my bag into the transport and pick a seat.

“Caller” walks us through the job on the way in. It’s straightforward: get in, grab a prototype from the testing labs, get out again. Minimal casualties, which is why he told us to bring hammerblow rounds. Ideal for a pack that doesn’t want to make the news.

One of the others looks at the chain holding my gun to my wrist. Must be a rook. They’ll learn. You can always tell a seasoned wolf; they stop looking at your little tricks and secrets and just let you get on with your job.

As we come in for a landing, I pull my hat down and make sure my kerchief is going to hide my rebreather. Combined with the goggles and the coat, it should be almost impossible for the watching gargs and other cameras to tell who I am. I’ve already checked my gear: submachine gun, machete, grapnels, a few kinds of blasting charge, a couple of different poisons.

***

The windows break the neon light from outside into rainbow fragments, which play over my coat. The stylised illustration of a winged figure giving gifts from heaven isn’t spiritual; it’s marketing. The gifts being dispensed have brand logos on them for the corp’s subsidiaries.

One of them has the stylised atom of Nucleus Energy on it, and my scars flare into pain for a split second. I know it’s psychological. I grit my teeth behind my collar and carry on.

Phase one is a cakewalk. “Caller” had some inside intel that this part of the building was going to be low-security, and that seems to be working fine: the rook, who I’ve learned is called “Mooch”, is keeping the cameras under control, looping some footage so none of them pick us up. It’s not going to last forever, but it doesn’t have to; we’re not under any given eye for too long, and most of the gargs are outside.

The next corridor is wrong. The walls are riddled with bullet holes and carved with a filigree of blade marks. The mutilated bodies of corpsec guards are everywhere, limbs wrenched from their sockets and throats ripped out. Even through my rebreather, I can smell blood and gunfire, mingled with another smell: a thick, animal musk.

I’ve heard the rumours – everyone has, everyone knows this is happening, no matter how hard corpsec try to suppress it – but I hadn’t expected to see it here. You never do, right? It’s always a friend of a friend that runs into this shit.

This is going to suck.

***

“Mooch” is the first to pull the trigger. Not wise, exactly, but I can’t blame them; the dead guards are mute testimony to how deadly these things are, and it’s not like a full pack in tac gear is exactly subtle. Within seconds, everyone else has joined in. Hammerblow rounds patter off its hairy, gore-spattered skin like rain. A couple of them provoke flinches, leave a mark, but don’t slow it much.

It looks like someone took a very large, feral wolf and mashed it up with a man. Its head is mostly canine, although its teeth are larger than any reasonable animal’s, but the rest of it is chimeric: its apelike stance and powerful arms are human, or at least close to it, but its tail and hair are lupine, and its clawed hands aren’t really either. It’s also covered in blood and shreds of what might, once, have been a corpsec uniform.

It howls in fury and leaps at us.

***

According to “Mirai”, it’s all the fault of the veins and the other rich bastards. Says some conspiracy site put her onto it. Supposedly, the reason corpsec guards are so loyal to the veins, so weird and bootlicky, is that the labs figured out some kind of gene treatment, isolated the stuff from dogs that makes them so loyal, and the suits give it to the When it goes too far, they change, when the scum at the top finish draining their humanity.

“Sigismund” says she’s full of shit. Genetics don’t work like that, and even if there was some secret tampering going on, it’d be more likely to lead to cancers than monsters. Mind you, he thinks it’s magic, so I’m not sure how reliable he is on the science. (He’s got a wild set of ideas about that, too. According to him, the beasts are nature unfettered, lashing out at the corp-choked world in a violent frenzy. Says he’s trying to figure out how to use that power constructively. Hasn’t gotten anywhere yet.)

Right now, though, the cause isn’t particularly critical. It doesn’t matter if it was made by mad science or black magic or if creatures like this are just a thing now. It’s bearing down on me, and there isn’t much I can do to stop it.

I hit the button.

***

Not a literal button, of course; jek doesn’t use physical controls. Instead, I mutter the activation phrase, and a pain like cold fire stabs into my veins as the injectors pump poison into my bloodstream. My whole body convulses, and the cold fire begins to heat up. The part of me that’s given in, the addict in my mind, it tinges the whole process with an edge of lust that shames me. Even so, I’m not stupid enough to pick this fight without it.

The effect is almost immediate. My gear feels like it’s made from cotton candy. My original bones would have already shattered from the convulsion, but the substitutes are doing their job. My vision fogs around the edges, but it’s almost supernaturally clear at the centre – I can make out the beast’s individual hairs, and the shattered remnants of a corpsec radio headset dangling from its neck like a collar.

I give it a burst in the face before it hits me. I can tell it felt the impacts, but it barely slows before tackling me to the ground and knocking my gun out of my hands. Fine by me; the bullets aren’t helping much anyway. The others will have to go on, take care of the mission while I fight. It’s probably best; jek isn’t just physical, and it’s poison for a pack. Nobody on jek is a team player.

The force of the tackle rolls us into the last corridor, but my armour protects me from the impacts. Coat’s not going to be salvageable, though; it has claw marks in it now. Without the jek, I’d have been knocked a lot sillier than I am.

As the beast lunges for me, I bring up my machete. It doesn’t dig deep, but jek-fuelled muscles drive it through the skin. The beast’s blood is surprisingly bright – what little of it comes out, anyway.

It seems to have decided I need to be tenderised before I’m eaten. It scoops me up and slams me into the wall. My goggles dim; the beast has its back to a window, and the neon light from outside would be streaming into my eyes, so they’ve compensated.

Then it all comes to me at once: the window could be my solution here. The beast is recovering quickly; it’s already stopped bleeding. I’m not going to win this one-on-one, and if the pack know what they’re doing, they’ve already headed for the objective. I have to do something unexpected.

I fire one of my wrist grapnels. It hits the window, and the motors whirr. It’s designed for heavy loads, and after a frozen moment while it calculates the weight, it retracts, dragging both of us into the window.

The beast is surprised, but not enough to disorient it. It thrashes around, its rage twisting metal and driving tinted duraglass out of its sockets.

The window gives way, and we both go over the edge.

***

On impact with the wall, one of my charges goes off unexpectedly. My spine doesn’t enjoy it, even through the pain-deadening haze of jek, but it doesn’t do serious harm; it just blasts a chunk out of the wall and flings us into traffic. The beast sinks its jaws into my left arm, and I let go of my machete; it disappears, never to be seen again.

As we tumble, I try and find some weakness. I can’t go for its eyes with any kind of accuracy, its bones are nearly as tough as mine, and even striking at the stomach only seems to make it angrier.

Our descent is bluntly interrupted by a corpsec lighter. Our impact with the cockpit shatters the duraglass canopy, so we must have been going down pretty hard – but, fortunately, the beast hits it first. The impact solves two of my problems at once. First, while landing still hurts like a bastard, even with jek, the beast takes the brunt of the impact. Second, the beast’s breath is laden with pink froth. After a moment, the rage flees its body, and it goes limp. Probably had some of the canopy driven into its lungs; not a pleasant death, but a final one.

The lighter skews wildly off-course, and I realise after a second that the pilot is either unconscious or dead. Corpsec lighters do have autopilots, but some people prefer the personal touch or are worried about reprogramming (a valid concern; “Mirai” once sent a half-dozen corpsec troopers on a routine patrol out of state as a prank), so not everyone uses them.

I don’t have a chance to get to the controls, but luckily, we’re headed towards a window. The pain in my entire body worsens a step as I see a giant Nucleus Energy logo, and then we hit.

***

I stagger to my feet, somehow still conscious. It’s almost impossible to break my bones now, but my right leg is definitely not as straight as I remember it being.

The window in question was right next to a meeting room, apparently. A stunned silence hangs in the air, but in a few seconds – even ones drawn out by jek – people are going to start yelling and running.

The big logo on the wall confirms it. This is a Nucleus Energy office. The bastards whose strontium leak cost me everything. Their poison had seeped into my bones, forced me to get them replaced. Left me with a debt I could only pay off by taking wolf jobs here and there. All my scars, all my wounds, this growing addiction to jek – all their fault. I can’t tell if I’m hurting worse because I know it’s them, or if my body is already redlining my pain receptors.

My jek-focused perceptions show me that one of them has a refrigerator briefcase here. A vein, then, carrying his supply of transfusions around with him. I can’t tell which of the others are veins, but they all might as well be: even if they haven’t had the treatment, they have the same kind of mind. The suits in this city are all the same: cold, bloodsucking bastards, they only care about themselves. The veins took a treatment that would strip their empathy and didn’t even notice. Even before that was developed, they gutted the land, poisoned the water, pumped fumes into the air. We’d be better off without them.

The weight of my gun dangling from my wrist is still there, and with jek reflexes, I could do a lot of damage here. Start at the door, work my way across. Even a vein’s boosted body can’t take a good hit to centre mass, and none of them look to be wearing much armour.

It won’t solve much, but it’ll be a little less poison in the city’s bloodstream.

#short fiction #chrome wolves #cyberpunk #werewolves #I was working on a setting idea and this came out

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