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w1ldthoughts · 9 months

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The Forgotten One Chapter Five: Not Like the Movies

Series Masterlist

A/n: This is what I imagine Ben to look like because I think Martin Bobb-Semple is beautiful but he can really look like whatever you want, I’m not really going to be descriptive with his appearance.

Things were tense after that night. Jack went back to work at the office and he would be home for maybe an hour before you went to sleep so there wasn’t much time to talk about what had happened. And maybe that was for the best.

You caught him in the living room one morning and he gave you the same spiel he gave you a few days before about things taking time and usually the reassurance would be nice but you didn’t want to live half a life, constantly waiting for something that clearly wasn’t going to come.

“I need you to be honest with me and yourself for a second,” you began with a sigh. “You’ve been preaching up and down about patience and I applaud you for being understanding but my god Jack, I know you miss the intimacy. You are living with someone who sees you as a distant friend at best. I know that shit must feel awful.”

Jack bites the inside of his cheek and some part of you knows you’re starting to hit a nerve. You didn’t necessarily want to fight but you also didn’t want to keep dancing around the elephant in the room. “Okay fine. It's hard for me too but I don't want to make you feel bad or like you’re not enough.”

His answer brings you no satisfaction. “Jackman, just be honest with me. I’m actually asking you, I can’t just keep walking around on eggshells waiting for you to explode. Just tell me how you feel, please.” You beg.

“Fine, you wanna know how the fuck I feel?” He blew out a breath and ran a hand over his face. “I feel alone. I feel like I was in a coma for two days and then I spent the next few days begging you not to die. But I feel like you did anyway because the person that woke up is not my girlfriend. The person I knew fought for what she wanted and never ever gave up. But you? You’re a fucking quitter and if you’re done with me then what are we even doing?” He used his forearm to dry the tears forming and got up from his seat.

“I have to go to work. I’ll see you when I get home.”

You sat on the couch motionless for the next two hours.

The knock on the door brought you out of your trance. “Ben? What are you doing here?

“Um well, Mr. Harlow—Jack, he told me to call him Jack. Anyway, he asked me to come check on you and even gave me an extended lunch break so I brought us some food. Can I come in?”

Of course. Even when Jack was mad at you he still had to make sure you were okay and it made you feel even more like a monster. But instead of dwelling on things you couldn’t control, you focused your energy on the food, and the man, in front of you. Ben made you forget about the reality of your situation and it was nice to just laugh and be normal without any underlying pressure.

“I have no idea how to fit into this life that I’m supposed to be living. And I have no idea what happened to make me do it before.” You blurt out, feeling a weight leave your shoulders. “Did I seem…happy?”

Ben drops his fork and looks you in the eyes. “Honestly, yeah. You did. You seemed like you enjoyed your life and were proud to have come so far and you were a great person to work for. We talked a lot about life which is probably why Jack asked me to come here.”

You shook your head, still processing a million things at once. “Can I show you something?” Ben nods, following you up the stairs and into Jack’s room. He walked behind you as you opened the door to a massive closet, full of your clothes and shoes as well as accessories like purses and jewelry. It felt invasive but the look on your face told him that he needed to stay in here with you.

“I don’t recognize any of these clothes.” You cry, slightly worried about dehydration since you’d shed more tears than you could count this week. This had to be some sort of world record. “I’m afraid that the person I was before the accident was just a shell of my real self and maybe I lost myself along the way? Hell, I don’t even know anymore.” You finished with a scoff.

“Look, I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling right now but I do know one thing. Your old self was strong and brilliant and determined and that none of the material things were ever going to change that.”

You found yourself in his arms, the tears disappearing for a bit. “Thank you, I’m really glad you came over today.”

He gave your body a slight squeeze before letting you go. “I’m here for you anytime.”

When Jack came home that night, the tension in your body immediately returned. You ate dinner in silence once again this extended argument was weighing on both of you equally.

“We can’t keep living like this Jack. Something has to change.” You state plainly, trying to keep your voice even.

“I know,” he sighs. “I know. I just—where do we go from here? We went from walking on eggshells around each other to the dam breaking this morning and I don’t know what to do.”

You knew exactly what to do, it was just a matter of actually pulling the trigger and doing it. “I think I should move out. Started looking at places today when Ben left and I just think it’s for the best.” All Jack did was nod, with his head down towards his plate, so you continued. “I can’t do this anymore, I can’t bear to have you looking at me like I’m going to just break any second, it’s gonna cause you to break worrying about me all the time.”

He still doesn’t say anything so you get up from your seat and kneel down to meet his eyes, placing a hand on his leg. A fat tear falls onto the top of your hand and a piece of your heart falls down your esophagus.

“Jack,” you whisper, “please don’t cry.” Your bottom lip trembles and you knew this would be hard but seeing him break down in front of you made you sick. “We just need a complete fresh start, not this in between of trying to get to know each other while there are constant reminders of our very established life together. It’s too hard and it’s clearly not working.”

“Can you please look at me?” You ask, putting a hand on his damp cheek.

Jack’s eyes are still full of tears when he looks up, releasing out a deep,very shaky breath. “You’re right. I hate this but you’re…right. If you need anything from me you know I’ll help. You say jump, I say how high.” He laughs, without a hint of humor in his voice.

Three weeks later…

You were all settled in your new place and decided to give Jack some time to himself to come to terms with everything that was happening while you focused on your fresh start.

“If only life was so simple and all I had to worry about was robbing a grocery store and stumbling upon drug money then finding myself working for said drug dealers to pay the money back.” You said with a laugh as Cleo smacked your arm during your fifth episode of Good Girls that night. It was like the old days when you both had no plans on a Saturday night and could stuff your faces with cheap Chinese takeout without a care in the world.

Cleo paused the show and looked at you. “What’s going on with you and Ben?”

“What?” You laughed, “why would you ask me that?”

Two weeks earlier…

“You can put those over in that corner and I’ll deal with it later. Thank you so much for helping me move all this stuff.” You let him know as soon as he walks in without looking up from the coffee table you were building.

“Okay great. And where should I put these?” He holds up the bouquet of tulips in his hands.

You laugh softly, standing up to give him a hug. “Aww Ben, what are these for?” You beamed.

“Well…you said you felt like this place could use some flowers the other day so I figured these would do the trick.” He opened the box in the living room that said ‘glass’ and grabbed a vase out to place the flowers in.

He made you giddy in a way that scared you but made you want to be closer to him all at the same time. You just liked spending time with him and wanted to do it as much as you could. “I appreciate you for listening and thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful. Let me buy you dinner at least for all of your service.”

“Nah, you don’t have to do that. But if you insist…I could eat.” He laughed.

The two of you ate while watching Abbott Elementary and you didn’t even remember falling asleep. You just woke up in his arms the next morning with the sun up. Carefully moving out of his grasp, you checked your phone to see the time, it was 7am and he had to be at work at 9. You shook his arm gently until he woke up, rubbing his sleepy eyes and showing you all of his teeth again. Damn his smile was pretty.

“Can’t believe we fell asleep,” he yawns. “Time flies when you’re having fun I guess.”

“Yeah speaking of time,” you tap your wrist for emphasis, “you have to be at work in two hours.”

“Oh shit. You’re right. Thank you so much for dinner last night and the great company and…everything.”

You walked him out the door and gave him a hug goodbye, your faces inches away from each other as you pulled away, you almost kissed him but decided against it.

“It’s obvious that something is going on. You text him all the time, he helped move your stuff over here and you always have that guilty smile on your face when I mention him. Like you do right now.” She states, like the answer was blatantly obvious.

You could lie to yourself but you couldn’t lie to her. “I don’t know what’s happening. He makes me feel comfortable and I just—I relate to him more than I relate to Jack right now. And things are really complicated between us and talking to Ben is easy. And that’s what I need right now I think.”

Although she didn’t particularly like it, she understood where you were coming from and didn’t want to push. There was no way of possibly understanding what was going on in your mind and all she wanted to do, all she could do was be there for you as a supportive friend.

The next morning, you woke up to a voicemail from an unsaved number.

Hi y/n. You don’t know me but my name is Quinn Freeman. I hate to throw all of this at you but Jack and I were having an affair a few months ago. I am now 20 weeks along with no word from him. He won’t answer my calls or texts and you are my last resort. I’ve seen you on the news and I know this must be for you to handle and I’m so sorry to burden you with this but I don’t really have any other options. Again, you don’t have to call me back, you can delete this and never talk to me but I thought you should know the truth. If you do decide to call me back you can call this same number. Thank you.

What the fuck?

“Look, I don’t think you should jump to conclusions. You should just talk to him about it and see what he has to say.” Cleo tells you on the phone as you pace back and forth, burning holes in your apartment floor.

“Cleo, did you know?” You whisper, suddenly not trusting your voice.

There is an eerie silence on the other end of the line. “Did I know what?”

“Don’t fucking play with me. Did you know that Jack cheated?”

“You’re gonna have to talk to him babe. He has all the answers you’re looking for.” She sighs, telling you she loves you before wishing you luck and hanging up the phone.

You had to see Jack, as soon as possible.

To say that he was surprised to see you at his door at 11pm would be the understatement of the year considering the fact that you’d spoken maybe five times the last three weeks. He understood that you were giving him time to adjust to this new normal but he missed you, he missed having dinner with you and just getting a glimpse of you every day, even if he was mad. But now here you were, frantically knocking on the front door even when you had the code.

He rushed to open it and took one look at your face, immediately asking “what’s wrong?” You simply played the voicemail for him after he closed the door behind you.

“Care to explain?” You stated blankly, voice void of any tangible emotion.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Okay look, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out but just know that I—”

You held up your finger, urging him to stop speaking. “I’m not here for excuses. I’m here for the full story so please start from the beginning.”

His hands were shaking and he put his head in them, then ran his fingers through his curls and took a deep breath. That didn’t help at all from feeling like his heart was beating out of his fucking chest. “A few months before the accident, we had a fight. Worst one we’ve ever had and we agreed to take some time away and figure things out. I went out by myself one night, feeling really shitty about us and I hooked up with a woman named Quinn and made her sign an NDA the next morning. Never spoke to her again.”

He continues with another heavy sigh, “I didn’t want to put more distance between us but I didn’t see a world where we came to a mutual understanding. Quinn was there and things seemed the opposite of complicated and I just wanted to escape reality for a bit. And it was the worst fucking mistake I could’ve made and I’m so—”

“You don’t have to apologize to me, I’m not technically your girlfriend. I mean I am, but not the one that remembers enough to feel betrayed by this. I’m really just here to ask you what you’re going to do about this because it sounds to me like you’re going to be a father in five months. Do I call the girl back? Do I—”

“I’ll take care of Quinn.” He bites out, venom lacing his tone. “You don’t need to worry about that, you can even block her number.”

Jack looks at you like you just kicked him in the chest when you let out a soft laugh. “I’m sorry this is not funny, it’s just—this all makes so much sense now. You’ve been an absolute angel because you cheated and got a second chance to be the perfect guy, this is great! I’m letting you off the hook though, you don’t have to work so hard because I quite literally don’t remember enough to be mad at you. So you’re forgiven and good luck with fatherhood…or paying her off and doing whatever it is that rich people do when they don’t want to deal with the repercussions of their actions. Have a good night, Jack.”

As your Uber drove off the property, you knew you had one more stop to make. Before you got out of the car though, you had to decline a call from an unsaved number and blocked them. Hopefully all that drama was in the rear view mirror. With baited breath, you knocked on the door and Ben answered. You wrapped your arms around him and connected your lips instantly, an abundance of fireworks went off in your mind and shivers danced down your spine.

This is what love was supposed to feel like.

Taglist

@jackharloww

@killatravtramp

@middlechild404

@harlowcomehome

@itsyagirljaz

@iknowdatsrightbih

@earthtoharlow

@alimaythings

@rosie-posie08

@heavyhitterheaux

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow au #jack harlow angst #jackman thomas harlow

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moosemonstrous · 5 months

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Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - Trust me I'm not a doctor

“Don’t move.”

Robbie can’t – not for the lack of trying. He can’t lift his arms, and his head feels like it’s full of nails. He can’t even move it to see who spoke to him.

Oh great. I thought you were in a coma or something.

His right knee shifts a little when he tries again. He works his throat – God, he’s so thirsty – but when he tries to speak, all that comes out is a crackling rasp.

“Calm down, I’m coming.” A shadow falls over his face. His vision is blurred and with a start, Robbie realises he can’t see out of his right eye. When he blinks rapidly, he can feel his eyelid struggle under a bandage, and the sharp stab of pain forces another grunt out of him. “I’ll up your painkillers, hold on.”

The nurse – she sounds like a nurse, tired and more than used to people ignoring her advice – fiddles with something to the side of his head. A cool sensation spreads from his forearm thorough his body. He didn’t realise how much he hurt until it all numbs away. His eyes – eye – feel heavy all of a sudden, but he can’t go back to sleep.

The painkiller doesn’t numb away the spike of anxiety in his stomach. He’s in—he has no idea where he is. He can’t move, he can’t remember why he’s here, and he doesn’t know how long he’s been out. What was that about a coma?

“Where is—” His throat feels like it’s riddled with broken glass. “My brother, where—?"

“Sorry, hun, I only just started my shift. Let me get the matron, okay?”

She leaves before Robbie can work up enough saliva to speak again. With most of the pain out of the way, he can pick up other muted noises in the room – people talking one over another, beeping, the steady in-and-out puff of a blood pressure cuff. Some sort of a medical facility, but Gabe wasn’t due an appointment for another week—

Not that bright, then.

What happened? He remembers—he was halfway through the work shift. Kwok was showing him how to switch the maintenance read-outs to English. He has a job – Corporal Navos got him a job in the Shatterdome. Fixing support vehicles. Fat chance he still has it if he landed himself in a hospital on day one. Gabe was in the school-prep thing, they said he needs to attend it for at least a week so they know which classroom to assign him to. He was so excited in the morning. Kids at the base have a special rations program, he was going to get dessert after lunch. The last time Robbie was able to get his hands on anything with sugar in it was back in LA.

There is no way in hell he can afford whatever IV he’s hooked up to. The school-prep was supposed to wrap an hour after his shift – has it been less than five hours? Maybe he can work off the difference at nights. He wasn’t really in a coma, was he? He feels—his fingers move if he really concentrates, he’s not paralysed or anything.

The opposite of paralysed! We finally moved, baby!

“Moved what?” he rasps. He didn’t hear anyone come over, and how did they—

Wait. You can hear me?

Everything crashes back all at once. The Colonel asking to see him – worrying that Navos was full of shit and they’re about to get kicked out – going into the jaeger hangar – reaching for the helmet—

He saw his dad, washed in blue like an old security recording. Robbie only has one photograph, creased from being folded and re-folded over the years, the right side torn off, but it was definitely him, strapping into the same spot in the jaeger’s cockpit Robbie was stuck in, laughing at something while he checked the wind projection. It better be a quick one, he said. Juliana wants to see a movie tomorrow night.

The beeping picks up the pace. Robbie tries to breathe normally. He thought he was dying. He thought it was one of the memories from Before, finally unlocked because he was dying. What the fuck happened? Why did The Charger trigger a drift? He could have died. Navos doesn’t even live on base, nobody would know to contact her – and why would she even take Gabe in? She already did them a huge favour, she didn’t owe it to Robbie to take care of Gabe because he’s gone and got himself killed—

“...surprisingly well, considering—oh, he’s still awake.”

“That’s... good?”

“We’ll see. Mr Reyes, can you hear me?”

He tries to nod. His neck is in some sort of a brace, that’s why— “Yes,” he says. Speaking comes easier now that he has some adrenaline to go on. “Gabe, is he okay?”

“His brother,” the second voice advises. It takes Robbie a second to recognise it as Colonel Ivanov. “He’s fine, Robbie, we have a facility for unattended minors.”

“He has—medication,” he says urgently. “He has to take it regu—” he chokes halfway through the word, his throat spasming like someone put their hands around it and squeezed. His right eye burns. For a moment, it feels like he’s back in that cockpit, hanging onto the helmet and—

And then it stops.

“...to be expected. Perhaps we can send someone to fetch the brother?”

“You do that, doctor. I will stay with the boy.”

There is a moment of offended silence, then the sound of steps. Ivanov drags something over to Robbie’s cot – a chair – and for a second, he catches a glimpse of the man’s face. A distant sort of fury boils in his chest.

“You’re alright, son,” the Colonel says. He sounds—tired. Not relieved or surprised. Maybe this whole thing wasn’t that bad, maybe it was all just a— “That was a close call. I don’t know how you activated The Charger, but you’re lucky to be alive.”

Robbie swallows. “I can’t move.”

“Well, you are drugged to the gills.” Ivanov taps something at the side of the bed. “I’m no doctor, but you seem to be fine.” He pauses. “Listen—”

“I’m sorry,” Robbie cuts in before he can stop himself. “I don’t—I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean to—”

Silence. Then: “No harm done, thankfully. But... If you have question, come to me first, yes? The techs get... very precious, about the jaegers.”

Robbie can’t nod. “Yeah. Yes. I will.”

He can barely feel the pat on his arm. “Good boy. Doc will be back with your brother soon. You should sleep now.”

“No,” Robbie protests. “I—Gabe, I need to—”

“He’s coming.” Ivanov chuckles. “Don’t go anywhere.”

He leaves without another word. Robbie can only stare at the tiled ceiling and wait.

#Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU #robbie reyes #Yegor Ivanov #Eli Morrow #I've heard this chronological thing could work

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parkswritessometimes · 2 years

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Only For You

Egotober Day 11: Game

“Hey ya know, I can record for you today.” Chase rolled his eyes as Jackie sat next to him. “I know you weren’t feeling well last night, so why don’t you take the day off and I’ll record for ya.”

Chase sipped his morning coffee, pulling the blanket closer to his chest pretending he didn’t hear Jackie’s comment. He scrolled through his phone, finding the latest Twitter drama a lot more interesting than whatever Jackie could offer him.

“Chaser, come on man.” Jackie groaned, poking Chase’s arm. “Don’t ignore me.” Chase placed his coffee down on the table, his patience growing thin. His hangover migraine was worse than normal and he just wanted to do his job and go back to bed. He pocketed his phone before picking up the blanket and walking away.

“Chase. Hey. I saw the video. Can we please just talk?” Chase froze in the middle of the hallway. Shit. Shit. Shit. He thought he deleted that video. No one was supposed to see it! Was it still up? Fuck.

He didn’t mean to spill his guts out to the camera, it just kinda happened. Everything in that game was so raw. It was like that game was reaching into his soul and plastered all his deepest insecurities on the screen. Every day was the same, nothing ever changed. He smothered the emptiness with starvation and alcohol, a stupid, desperate attempt to feel something. But nothing ever came. Jack was in a coma, Henrik was gone, and his own wife took his kids and won’t give them back.

“Chase, hey. Chaser-Racer. Come on man, you gotta talk to me.” Jackie’s hand gently grabbed Chase’s shoulder, sending a shiver down his spine. How long had it been since someone last touched him, showed him any sort of physical affection? His best guess was the last time he saw his kids three weeks ago, but that was such a brief fleeting moment. “Chase.”

The tenderness in Jackie's voice caused a flood of tears to rise in Chase’s eyes. He was so used to anger in his ex-wife’s voice. Hostility in the comments. Marvin’s snarky remarks. The judgmental cashier at the liquor store. But here Jackie was, being so kind and using the softest voice he could muster.

“I-I don’t know what happened. I didn’t drink that much.” Chase mumbled, his eyes focusing on the ground. “I didn’t-I didn’t mean to post that video, I don’t even remember doing it! I privated it the second I woke up and-”

Chase's words were cut off the second Jackie pulled him in for a nice, warm hug. Chase clung to the red hoodie as tears finally came out. Chase pressed his body into Jackie’s, needing to be as close to Jackie as humanly possible.

“Jackie I didn’t mean to-I’m sorry. I know I fucked up. I know I put us in danger.” Chase stammered through every excuse he could think of. Any reason for Jackie to stay with him. Stay here and protect him.

“Chase, I say this with all the love in my heart, shut the ever-loving fuck up. You had a bad day and made a mistake. I’m not mad. Just, take a break man. Let me record today while you go and visit Jack. Okay? It’s been a while since you went to say hi.”

Chase shook his head into Jackie’s chest. Recording was the only thing he was good at. It was the only thing that made him worthwhile. That's the only reason Jackie and Marvin put up with him. It was his purpose, his worth. If Jackie took that away from him, he wouldn’t have anything.

“Chaser, let me do this for you. I’m so worried about you. Chase, please.” Jackie breathed. Chase swore he could feel his older brother's tears hitting his scalp. Chase silently cursed himself under his breath. How dare he hurt Jackie like that. How dare he make Jackie cry over his selfish move. How dare he manipulate Jackie into caring about him that much.

Chase's chest shook as he attempted to get oxygen into his lungs. He distantly felt Jackie’s thumb brush over his beard, a silly habit he had developed when he was first created. Chase’s lips pulled apart, forming a small soft smile. His eyes glanced up at Jackie’s, wanting, needing his big brother's support.

He had forgotten how beautiful Jackie’s eyes were. Beautiful blue iris’, full of promise and hope. Eyes that had made endless promises of love, of kindness, of life, and hope. Jackie had fulfilled every promise he had ever made to him.

“Take a break, for me,” Jackie whispered. Chase nodded as he leaned into Jackie’s gentle touch. His big brother had done so much for him, if this could be the thing to make Jackie happy he’d do it. He’d find a different way to provide, to be useful.

“Okay. Okay, Jackie. For you. For you. Only for you.”

Prompt by: @tracobuttons

#writers of jack #writersofjack #jacksepticeye #jackieboy man #chase brody #i am so sorry this is late #Long covid and seasonal depression hit HARD #but I'm back!

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azurescaled · 13 days

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[ "Chimeras are especially dangerous because they're merely animals - intelligent, defensive, imbued with all sorts of tools with which to protect themselves and their young, if they should have them. So many see them as purely aggressive on account of their severity, but were they not, perhaps they'd be extinct by now. During the Kingmaker's mortal life, many a dashing knight saw to their culling, disturbing them from their slumbers and laying waste to their nests...all in the name of princesses who did the very same. Such happens with dragons, too, and often." ] Perhaps posing a few thinly veiled questions on the natures of things so commonly misunderstand, fear ruling far too many minds and driving them to do the unthinkable toward those they ought not. [ "If this is how we treat our most precious wildlife, then it's ever clearer how we treat ourselves - we do not care to understand, nor even to be understood, only attended to and lauded with praise." ] / fuu and izumi !

Unprompted Asks || Always Accepting! @astarab1aze

Izumi thinks upon the other's words, remembering the tail end of the great purge. Many of the divine dragons had been murdered by humans, struck down by those they had previously protected. Slayers had no qualms with murdering hatchlings, the elderly...None were spared. Even now, their parents were in a magically induced coma, their healing a slow process. There had been times where Izumi had been tempted to simply let their parents go, it would've been the right thing to do, but they can't always act with logic. They don't want to let their only family go, nor do they want to join the rest of the divine dragons within their realm.

"I can't say my hands are unstained. There was a time where I was close to declaring my intent to wipe out all of humanity were it possible for me."

They're powerful and they can certainly cause an untold amount of devastation should they wish it, or snap one day and become little more than a raging beast acting on their hurt. They've got a reputation, that they know. For those who have recorded some of their acts in history, they are known as a destroyer, perhaps the vengeance of the remnants of the divine dragons, choosing to stay in the human realm to cast judgement upon humanity. To others, they are a deity known for healing and calming storms, a protector.

"At the same time, punishing the children for the sins of their parents can be...Unreasonable. I wish that we could all live in harmony, alas, I suppose it's natural that they fear what they can't understand. After all, it's not as if I don't get stares from those who work with me."

They've never been asked about the seals upon their body, perhaps on some level, people who've seen them, are afraid to know just why they have to suppress themselves. Others knew, though it helped that the one person who understood, was Minerva. She was a dragon so old that not even death had kept her pacified, instead, she became a being of the void itself. Izumi paled in comparison to her power.

"The chimera I've known have been rather docile. Though, it helps that those have been the solitary ones, and aren't busy with protecting their children. Taking the time to learn their habits was interesting. If only more people were willing to understand something new."

#let this be a lesson (in character; izumi)#wow i am late as fuck on this my bad #but here u go #astarab1aze

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thatforgottenbasilisk · 4 months

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Jonathan Sims Is Dead In The End

Chapter 5: Levine et al (2005) (AO3)

chapter summary:

In 2005, a study was conducted at Manchester University regarding prosocial behavior towards people of a salient in-group, vs people not of that salient in-group.

In one condition of the study, all participants were fans of Manchester's football team. The researchers ensured that the participants were thinking of this using questionnaires about that team. Then, the participants were told that they needed to move to a different building for the next part of the study, and on their way there, a confederate was to run down a hill and trip, pretending to be injured. The confederate, depending on the group, was wearing either a Manchester shirt, a Liverpool shirt, or a white shirt.

They found that the participants were at least twice as likely to help someone wearing a Manchester shirt than any other option.

In the other condition of the study, all participants were football fans, and everything else stayed the same. In this condition, it was found that the confederate wearing either Manchester or Liverpool was just as likely to be helped, and still twice as likely as someone in a white shirt.

This study is used to support the theory that people are more likely to exhibit prosocial behavior to those of their in-groups.

When Sasha gets home from work, she's more exhausted than she thinks she ever was the first time around, at least in this time period. Before Jane Prentiss.

The rest of the day after Martin's dog incident had gone... not well, but not horrendously, either. It had mostly just been tense, though that may have just been her own projection. Tim had jumped with every move she'd made, which in turn trampled all over her nerves and made it difficult for her to try and concentrate on how she wanted to move forward, which, thankfully, had been about the same as the first time around. Trying to make a rudimentary sort of filing system was her first priority then, and it is even moreso now. She respects Gertrude's dedication to obfuscating anything unnatural going on in the Archives, but she would never adopt that practice for her own.

Still, she recorded the Statements about the Anglerfish and the Coffin easily enough, though she'd waffled for a moment on whether or not she ought to attempt to use her laptop, for Elias' sake, before eventually deciding against it. She doubts that that would arouse too much suspicion, and the initial attempt would be a waste of time, anyway.

She's planning on just finishing up digitizing that box Elias had plucked out, then doing nothing else on that front. She's going to be the only one doing the recordings, same as last time, but purposefully this time around. She'd considered trying to have Martin record some along with her to try and keep him from going in any other directions, as he had before, but that idea was a bit... drastic, considering that it was only the first day in the Archives.

There are other options. There will be other options. Things are not yet set in stone- after all, changes have already began to happen. Tim is afraid of her, that's different, and this time she has the full power that being the Archivist entails, for the full extent of her time here. She's alright, she can do this, some bumps in the road won't hurt too badly in the long run.

It's fine. Everything is currently fine.

She doesn't even know why she'd freaking out, of course there would be some discrepancy, she can't possibly remember and replicate everything down to the detail. She just... Tim had always been a friend. She hadn't found out what he'd done until after she awoke from the coma, and he was already long dead by then. She supposes that at least like this, she doesn't need to try to act normal around him- he already knows that something's off, and he's already started acting differently because of it.

She's just going to have to change her plans around to account for that. She's going to have to change them anyway, in preparation for Jane, for Michael, for everything. Everything has to be dynamic, responding to every possible shift and change in the timeline. She's got to account for everything, lest it all fall apart in front of her again.

So. To course correct on Tim, try and get him to trust her again, she's going to try to get everyone together for drinks and things outside of work, which will also serve to help Jon and Martin get some human anchors. She isn't sure on how much of an effect it'll have on Jon, considering just how long everything's been going on with him, long before she met him, long before he joined the Institute- but it will be helpful for Martin, and having everyone pack together with the exclusion of Jon is something that she doesn't want to repeat. She wants everyone in the loop this time, because the secretive paranoia of the last timeline hadn't ended well at all.

Sasha sighs to herself and wonders how unhealthy it'll be to order delivery again. She hadn't done that much this early on, last time, but she's also significantly less human so it may not matter nearly as much.

She flips through her collection of takeout menus and punches in her order to whichever takeout-delivery service was available in 2016. She'd never bothered to memorize the names, and if she really cares to try, then that's one of the few things that Beholding's useful for.

As she waits for her egg foo young to arrive, she paces around her living room, thinking of minor adjustments to make. She knows that she's got to get everyone to be friends before they're all torn apart by Jane Prentiss' attack, so that maybe, maybe they'll actually be able to survive what comes after. None of them need another spiral into paranoia, nor do they need the isolation that came after. Tim, especially, after he'd been on the run through no fault of his own.

She's also going to have to be careful around Michael, at least until she finds out just how much the Distortion is aware of its own future actions. If it isn't, then she'll act the same as she had before, and if it is... well. She may or may not have a new ally, or at least someone who would be willing to cause chaos for the fun of it. She can think of quite a few entertaining possible results that may arise from siccing it on Elias.

Her phone dings where she'd left it on the kitchen counter, and she goes over to it, assuming that it's from the delivery driver. The notification isn't a text, though, instead it seems to be an Institute-wide email from Elias.

"RE: Jane Prentiss" is the subject line, and though Sasha didn't immediately recall this email being sent at this time the first time around, it does ring a bell in the back of her mind.

Its contents are a mere bland warning to be on the lookout for an ill-looking woman in a red dress, matching the description of Jane Prentiss, along with the usual assurances that the Institute was perfectly safe and that work ought to continue normally. The only reason that the email was being sent was due to multiple inquiries about her and the fact that multiple victims of hers had come running to the Institute, so there were concerns that she may do the same.

Sasha closes the message out and dismisses the thought. She knows when the attack happens, so she won't put on any airs before necessary. Her doorbell rings, and she goes without hesitation, knowing that she won't be attacked yet, not when everything is so on edge and full of trepidation after Gertrude's disappearance.

She opens the door and pays for her food. She knows that everything's going to be alright, at least for now.

#tma #tma fic #my writing #jonathan sims is dead in the end fic #jonathan sims is dead in the end

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rodeoxqueen · 3 years

Text

SMELLS LIKE QUARAN-NEROKIRI SPIRIT

Nero/Kyrie

“In quarantine, Nero and Kyrie spend time together.”

Rodeo’s Two Pieces:

First time writing for Nero/Kyrie. Tread lightly with my take of their dynamic.

(I)- Dalgona Coffee and Cookies.

Despite how everything was shut down and the grocery was found vacant of basic necessities, Nero was grateful to at least be with someone he loved the most.

“Look, we probably need some time off from kickin’ demon ass anyways,” Nico explained, smoking a cigarette during the video chat.

“Yeah, not like demons care about being six feet away. People don’t even do that.” Nero looked at himself in the little square in the corner of his phone. Clad in a grey hoodie, he hadn’t even bothered putting on anything over his boxers. No one had come to visit since the mandate to stay inside, what was the point?

Nico was in her garage again, from what he could see in the camera view. Cigarettes and old cups of coffee littered her desk, warbled country music playing off-view.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll make something to fix that. I was thinking a mask-gun, rapid-fire reloading.”

“Artisan of Arms, huh?” Nero laughed, getting up from his bed.

“You fuckin’ bet. Now I gotta go. Got some things to weld.”

“See ya, Nico. Stay safe, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He gave a peace sign before pressing “end video call.”

The video chat ended and Nero tucked his phone into his pocket. Even banter just wasn’t the same virtually.

“Who was that? Nico?” Nero made it down the hallway to see Kyrie, bustling about getting things from the cupboards.

“Yeah, still building stuff as usual.”

Kyrie had been in their apartment’s kitchen, deciding to try her hand at some recipes she saw online. A bag of flour, too many bowls, and more chocolate than Nero remembered buying, all laid out on the table.

Just when he wanted something to eat, he’d have to wait or his girlfriend would practically make enough to feed an army and be surprised when he didn’t want anymore.

He opted for a cup of water instead.

Nero admired her hair, how it looked when it wasn’t in a ponytail, how it sat perfectly on her shoulders. Seeing how she started to measure some ingredients, he took the hair tie on his wrist, careful fingers bringing it into a low ponytail.

“Oh, thank you.” She commented, opening her booklet of recipes she had handwritten. Neat, slanted cursive in a smattering of blue, red, and black read out recipes for cookies, cakes, and bread.

“You look busy, planning to make all of those?” Nero rested his chin on her shoulder, shrouding her with warmth.

“Well, I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck at home, might as well try some recipes out. Maybe we can deliver some to the orphanage.”

“That is if I don’t eat all your prototypes first.” She laughed, birdsong to Nero’s ears.

“As long as you help me I don’t mind if you do.” Kyrie handed him a measuring cup. Nero sighed, taking it. He always lost count of how many cups of flour he was supposed to put in the bowl.

A jar of porous dough caught his eye as he sifted some baking soda in his white mixture. He took it from Kyrie’s side of the island.

“Whoa, what is this? A science experiment?” Kyrie chuckled, watching Nero scrutinize the date on the white tape to the top of the mason jar.

“No, it’s a sourdough starter! It’s basically wild yeast. We can make bread with it since people bought out all the dry yeast in the grocery store.”

Nero shook it with curiosity and then opened the silver lid, making an “eh” face at the smell.

“It’s yeast alright.”

Kyrie continued whipping up the sugar and butter mixture, Nero helping himself to a handful of chocolate chips.

“Have you talked to your uncle and father? They must be staying at the shop in Redgrave.”

Nero shrugged.

“Most likely, I haven’t talked to them yet. Dante probably didn’t pay the phone bill and Vergil doesn’t know how to use the phone anyways.”

“Let’s just hope they’re getting along during this time.”

Nero thought back to all the “family outings” he had since his uncle and father returned from hell, mostly just jobs becoming contests of strength that turned to friendly family fights. Endless banter and elbowing.

Honestly, compared to that, standing next to his girlfriend while they shaped cookies for the oven was heaven.

Once the chocolate chip cookie dough was done baking, Kyrie insisted they make some whipped coffee while they cooled.

“I thought you didn’t like coffee, Kyrie.” She stooped down to find something in the lower cabinets. A robotic hand that was colored dark blue and black, his old Devil Bringer, appeared with a tiny whisk duct-taped to it.

“Yeah, but that TikTok made it look so good.” Nero handed her the glass container of instant coffee.

Turning on the Devil Bringer, the tiny whisk spun to life, rapidly mixing sugar, coffee, and water together. With her back turned, Nero popped a thing of cookie dough in his mouth.

“Honestly, Nico should have patented these Devil Bringers, make a bunch of money, and maybe she’d stop trying to rip me off all those times.”

“Support local businesses, Nero.”

He looked over her shoulder, surprised at how an abysmal brown mixture had become fluffy and thrice its previous volume.

Two cups of milk poured, the practically instantly whipped coffee laid on top like a decadent Mount Everest next to a still-warm plate of cookies.

“Cheers!” Kyrie clinked glasses with him, stirring her mug vigorously with a spoon. He copied her, taking a sip of surprisingly light and sweet coffee.

When he lowered his cup, Nero both revealed to the world a mustache of whipped coffee.

Kyrie snorted into her cup, covering her mouth as she bit back a laugh. Embarrassed, Nero went to wipe it off when Kyrie pecked him on the lips. She drew back to reveal an imprint of the ‘stache on her own upper lip.

“We match now.” Kyrie giggled, helping herself to another gooey cookie.

Half a plate of cookies and two mugs properly drained of its contents, Kyrie and Nero loaded up the dishwasher to do the work.

“This is coffee, why am I tired?” Kyrie yawned.

The couch was this god-awful IKEA purchase that took hours for Nero to just figure out what the instructions meant. But right now, it perfectly supported both of them while they slept away their food coma.

(II)- Curl Up And Dye.

After the second time the mandate got lengthened, Nero could sense that Kyrie was starting to wane in her ever-positive attitude. The news had nothing good to say, and the number of shows they had binged left them indifferent to watching anything more.

They did a lot of singing during quarantine, Kyrie always being the musical one. Evanescence was one of their favorites to sing together, Nero’s guitar skills and Kyrie’s ability to hit those high notes left many memorable nights of laughter.

After a while, Kyrie began to just sit on the couch a lot and have Nero pay her company.

“What’s wrong?” Kyrie sighed heavily, curling into Nero’s hoodie as he opted to stay shirtless.

“I don’t know Nero, it just feels like everything is the same. We go through the same things every day and I just feel...trapped.”

Nero kissed the nape of her neck, humming in agreement.

“Look, I’m usually the one going to you for stuff like this but...it will get better. It’s been a really hard time for all of us, and we’re just watching everything go downhill. It’s not a good situation but, you got me. Always. And there’s still a lot of things we can change up if that helps.” He stroked her hair and rubbed her back, feeling her take a deep breath.

“You’re right Nero. That really did help. Thank you for listening.”

“Of course.”

While he scrolled on his own phone, he didn’t heed all the things Kyrie was watching. She touched her own long hair, seeing the way other people recorded their own home-salon trims.

“Things to change, huh?” She mumbled.

So here they were now.

“It looks so bad!” Kyrie exclaimed, her face in her hands, hair on the bathroom sink. Nero shook his head.

“No it’s not, Kyrie! You look fine, just let me fix it!” In the mirror, Nero cringed at the way her hair was ridiculously over-layered.

“Um, what did you try to do-”

“Curtain bangs! Oh Nero, I shouldn’t have tried to change up my hair!” Kyrie was thoroughly upset, seeing how her bout of bravery lead to her bangs being mauled by her own hands.

Nero hugged her, noting that she had been wearing his shirt while she trimmed her hair.

Okay that shirt’s gonna itch for a while until all the hair comes out.

“It’s okay, let me see if I can fix it.” Kyrie blushed in the mirror, groaning at how bad her hair was cut.

“There’s no way you could make it worse than what I did.”

Nero gingerly took the scissors Kyrie put in the sink, a little bit too small for his hands but good enough. Although he was no stylist, he could tell where Kyrie had either cut too much off or unevenly.

Eventually, they did manage to cut it in a way that hid the previous mistakes. Kyrie took another deep breath.

“I shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” She murmured, arms crossed.

Nero chuckled at her rare emotional outburst. He was glad to have been able to be there for her. She always hid how she felt, helping others her way of expressing herself. Now with no one around but him, he totally understood that she felt helpless.

No one liked being helpless.

He kissed her cheek and a lightbulb went off in his head.

“You wanna dye my hair?” Kyrie turned around in surprise.

“What?”

“I mean, who knows how long this shutdown is gonna be, it’ll be fun,” Kyrie noted how Nero had forgone shaving, his peach fuzz becoming something more.

Honest blue eyes peered at her, wondering what she would think. Her surprise softened to a sort of relief in their solidarity.

“What color, Nero?”

“Neon green-”

“Nico’s going to make fun of you.” Kyrie giggled. Nero shrugged nonchalantly.

“I don’t mind it.”

(III)- Can’t Get Out Of It, Get Into It.

“Nero, you look so fucking ridiculous.”

“Shut up, Dante.”

His uncle finally managed to figure out how to work the virtual chat on his fossil of a computer, and Nero was already prepared to end the call.

His father sat slightly off-camera, not in the mood to entertain Dante’s antics to ridicule his son. Although, he did look oddly radioactive with his washed-out green hair and strong quarter-past five o’clock shadow.

“Quarantine did not do you a favor, good lord,” Dante commented, kicking his feet up on his desk. Nero flipped him off.

“Good to know you’re still living in shambles, not surprised neither of you cleaned up after yourselves.” The number of bottles on the floor was a travesty and the couch littered with poetry books Vergil had slowly begun to hoard.

Nico entered the zoom call, smoking another cigarette Nero was lucky to not have to smell.

“Nice broccoli head.”

Nero flipped her off as well. Kyrie came into view, smiling at her boyfriend’s family and their shared friends. Nero decided to get a drink, clicking a few buttons before letting Kyrie have the seat.

As they discussed how the business would continue with Devil May Cry, Kyrie sat next to Nero.

It was mainly business, until it got to a certain line that Dante said.

“I don’t know, it just feels like things are just going to keep staying like this. Hate to break it to you Nero, but it’s going to be tough for a while.”

Kyrie finally heard enough, scooching Nero aside so she could talk.

“Kyrie, wait-”

“We’re going to get past this. As long as humanity still keeps coming together for the sake of benefiting each other, and we keep working to make sure to keep safe, we will get past this. We just have to keep hoping, and sure, hoping isn’t always going to make you feel better. I would know. But in a time where we do feel helpless, we should connect with other people in a different way. That’s why we succeed, we keep moving, we keep adapting! And hope, hope keeps that going.”

Kyrie took a long breath. Looking at the dumbfounded group, she waited for a response.

“Um, Kyrie. You were muted.” Nero finally said. Kyrie realized her blunder and how Nero’s hand was attempting to unmute them.

“Oh.” Kyrie flushed, looking embarrassed.

“I have no idea what you just said, but that’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, that was so awkward.”

“Don’t worry yourself, Kyrie. I bet it was real sweet whatever you had to say,” Nico assured.

The zoom call was full of laughter since, a business call turned to a time to discuss how each person was doing.

Dante and Vergil had spent days and nights sparring, Vergil learning more about humanity from Dante, and “making their own pizzas.”

Nico had continued welding and making weapons for her own curiosity rather than based off of commission-based instructions. The van finally had the vinyl player fixed and she apparently gave herself a stick-and-poke.

“So what did you two love birds do?” Nico asked, lighting another cancer stick.

Nero and Kyrie looked at each other, smiling at their shared memories of this strange period in human history.

“Where do we even start?” Kyrie said, thinking of all the days and nights that seemed to breeze by and also slowly progress.

Nero ruffled his longer messy green hair, Kyrie tucking her curtain bangs behind her ear. As they were two peas in the pod, Nero had decided to get another set of gray sweats for Kyrie, matching finally.

Kyrie bit into a cookie, offering Nero some.

“Smells like quarantine spirit, huh?” Dante finger-gunned.

Nero chuckled.

“Hell yeah.”

#nirvana and dominic fike reference?#nirvana and dominic fike reference #not much vergil in this work i do not care for the man today #nero x kyrie #nerokiri #devil may cry #devil may cry fanfiction #nero sparda #kyrie #dmc kyrie #dante sparda #vergil sparda #nicoletta goldstein

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silenthillmutual · 4 years

Text

daniil dankovsky is autistic and here’s why:

because i’m autistic and i said so

i kid, obviously. what sort of autistic person would i be if i wasn’t read to back up my silly little claim with an overly long post of evidence a total of three people will read? (hi ned hi jordan hi raven :))

i’m aware that this is cringey because adults aren’t supposed to have autism or interests or talk about either of those things, but this is my blog and you are free to block me if the cringe is too much for you.

these are some things i picked out from the DSMV’s diagnostic criteria, found on the CDC website:

deficits in social-emotional reciprocity

reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect

abnormal social approach

abnormalities in eye contact and body language

defecits in […] understand[ing] relationships

difficults adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts

repetitive motor movements or speech

rigid thinking patterns

highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus

hyper- or hyporeactivity to sensory input

there’s also some misc. stuff not in the diagnostic criteria (though it may be in the adir or gars-3) i thought was worth noting.

important note from the diagnostic criteria: “symptoms cause clinically significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of current functioning”. i’d say that in his case, they do.

spoilers for pathologic classic, pathologic 2, and the marble nest

deficits in social-emotional reciprocity

in bachelor route of classic, daniil

seems completely oblivious to eva making advances toward him, to the point where she complains to him that he’s ignoring her in favor of asking questions about simon.

seems surprised when people mention maria being in love with him, despite outright asking her a couple of times if she’s flirting with him.

not to mention the fact that he asks her that at all.

his inability or resistence to making connections with others is typically considered one of his character flaws. although it is not outright stated in the dsmv criteria, one trait of autism and other neurodivergencies is “having extremely high or extremely low empathy” - and daniil, despite being a doctor, lacks empathy. which is not to say he doesn’t care at all. i think that he does, but is terrible at showing it.

for example, this scene from marble nest:

Sticky: You must feel terrible… right? That’s fine. I forgive you. You just got confused… Adults always do. Daniil: Oh yes, adults are always occupied with the most asinine nonsense. Like feeling anxious that a bunch of urchins keep roaming the streets, putting themselves in mortal danger!

daniil clearly cares about sticky’s wellbeing (and the wellbeing of the kids looking after him, though he’s not cognizant that he’s in a coma), but his way of showing it is… kind of by being a jerk. all of which bleeds into the next item on the list

reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect

he has no problem sharing his interests, but in both pathologic classic & pathologic 2, daniil speaks with a flat affect - which is to say that he lacks intonation. the words we read him saying may be dramatic or come across as passionate, but the actual voice reading his lines is very monotone, which may contribute to being read as lacking emotion.

and in pathologic 2, he has a voiceline lamenting not telling “her” (eva?) how he felt

in marble nest, he’s teased by the tragedians for being “heartless”:

Tragedian: Maybe. Possibly. But it’s useless to explain to a heartless man. …Take heart, Excellency! If you ever find it, that is. And then come back to us… Even though it all sounds like a rather implausible turn of events.

abnormal social approach

daniil has a tendency to say things that are tactless, odd, or just socially inappropriate. i probably don’t need to point out too many examples, as i think it’s fairly obvious - these are the things people love to pick at when it comes to him, but i do have a few in mind. like, for example, from haruspex route in classic:

Haruspex: What of the antibodies essential for making a serum? Bachelor: I don’t know for sure yet, I’ll send you a report in a few hours. Don’t go about cutting people’s hearts out for your panacea until then. It’s a… controversial solution, you know… Haruspex: What?! Do you even hear yourself? Bachelor: Sorry! I meant no offence… it was just a momentary lapse of… well, you know. Haruspex: None taken.

until artemy points out, daniil doesn’t seem to be aware he just said something rude. even with therapy, picking up on social cues doesn’t come naturally to people with autism, so we tend to say things that come across as rude or strange to others without realizing we’ve put them off. we tend to lack a “filter” that tells us when things are or are not appropriate to say. even when we may recognize it, the rules may not make any sense to us. for example, it makes very little sense that allistics favor politeness over honesty.

i think the glaringly obvious abnormal social approach in pathologic 2 is him threatening to hold artemy at gunpoint to get in the house, which is just overkill, but my personal favorite comes on day 7, when he’s complaining about the orders aglaya has given him. artemy stops him to say he doesn’t understand what daniil wants from him, to which daniil replies:

From you? Oh, nothing. I was just sharing.

to daniil, they were just having a normal conversation. but some part of this - his tone or his words or maybe even his body language - didn’t give artemy the impression that this was supposed to be a regular conversation. (we could, in fact, attribute the same idea to artemy here; why didn’t artemy pick up that this was a normal conversation? the reason i count it towards daniil is because artemy doesn’t seem to have this problem with anybody else. for the record: i don’t think artemy is neurotypical either.)

abnormalities in eye contact and body language

it’s hard to get proof of this in video games, but i will say i think it’s very funny that in pathologic 2 daniil’s idle animations are “pacing”, “sitting like he desperately wants to start bouncing his knees but is stopping himself from doing it”, and “standing unnaturally still” - but there you go. i don’t know anything about making gifs, or i’d gif this one specific talk menu idle he does where he holds eye contact for about three seconds, looks away uncomfortably, and then looks back out of the corner of his eyes.

deficits in […] understand[ing] relationships

mostly examples from his route in classic:

when the army arrives, he can claim to block that aglaya, whom he’s known for two days, is his best friend

he seems baffled by the fact that everone is smitten with maria and working with her, and seems equally baffled by the idea that she’s smitten with him

despite eva implying on day two that she is in a relationship with andrey, is completely blindsided by the revelation on day 6, asking him, “How in the world is she ‘your woman’?”

i’d also like to use his sign-off on his letter to artemy, day 2 of the haruspex route - he signs it as “Your friend (hopefully)”. i know i’m not the only autistic person who used to ask people if we were friends or not. pro tip, if you’ve never done this: don’t. it really weirds people out.

difficulties adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts

the fact that he stands out is blatantly obvious even in pathologic 2 and in the haruspex route of classic. people will comment on him being an outsider and mention that they don’t trust him. but you can watch it happen in real time in his route, because he never fully acclimates to the town. he says something about this to aglaya on day 7:

Bachelor: Was there any particularly notable backstory? I’m deadly tired of all these people. They’re inhuman. They tell the future, believe in walking zombies, and die in all manners of painfully abnormal ways. Inquisitor: Your line of t hinking is obviously falacious - and I was implying something rather mundane. I promise you, no one can really tell the future around here: and neither are deaths inspired by third parties uncommon. Mysterious phenomenons do occur here sometimes… but hardly more often than anywhere else.

actually, there’s an example of him saying something similar to artemy on day 5 in pathologic 2:

Damn this town… I feel I’m trapped in a nightmare. The absurdity of it all… There’s no one to talk to. Everyone’s so volatile. They all seem to want to help, but… their help is worse than hostility.

some of this can be explained by the town’s strangeness, but keep in mind that the first instance happens after he’s been there and involved in the ongoing for an entire week, and the second at nearly a week in. clearly he’s struggling to adjust to the changes.

it’s also worth noting that his reason for fleeing the town in the nocturnal ending?

I have no place here anymore.

This town is no longer mine. No longer human. No longer rational. It doesn’t… accept the likes of me anymore.

repetitive motor movements or speech

it’s harder to see the motor movements in classic, but remember how i pointed out earlier that he paces? pacing is a form of stimming. murky, who is canonically autistic, can also be found pacing as one of her idle animations. having stock phrases for characters to speak when you come near them already ticks off the box on “repetitive speech”, but that by itself doesn’t really cover what they’re talking about - echolalia.

but you know what this does fit with? “‘quoting’ things(communication is HARD! sometimes we need to take shortcuts and use someone else’s words)“

i’ll get to the more obvious example in a minute - i want to point out something that happens very early in pathologic 2 first. you know how you first meet him and artemy accuses daniil of trying to guilt-trip him by asking if it’s true that isidor would still be alive if artemy had come sooner? keep in mind that he spoke to rubin first. and this is what rubin says, when you get a chance to talk to him:

Yesterday, I was told you had killed your father.

That’s not far from the truth, Burakh.

You betrayed him. You left when he needed you most. He cried out for your help, but you didn’t care. He was in peril, and you were too busy elsewhere, He believed, truly believed, that your arrival would put an end to his troubles. And, as always, he was right.

i’m not saying this was necessarily the game’s intent, but it’s entirely possible daniil is parroting back to artemy exactly what rubin said to him.

now, for what you’re probably expecting in this section: the latin. people love to refer to his use of latin as “random”, so let’s clear that up:

it is not latin daniil has made up. with the exception of latin that is mispelled in the game’s texts, all of them are proverbs or otherwise common sayings. you can find most of them on the wikipedia list of latin phrases, or through a 3-second google search.

he’s a doctor. him having taken latin isn’t anymore strange than a lawyer taking latin. in fact, if you pay attention, artemy also took latin; this is implied when artemy tells him he’s always sucked at it.

his uses of latin actually aren’t random at all. what he says fits the situation, and sometimes is used in place of him having to come up with something to say on his own.

prime example:

Forget it, Burakh. I have a splitting headache. If you have no urgent business, then we’ll talk later. Later, later… Qui non proficit, deficit.

qui non proficit, deficit - he who does not advance, loses ground. in other words, “i’m sorry, but i really do need to keep working.” one of his voice lines.

as for why he doesn’t translate the latin: it probably wouldn’t even occur to him to. these are not obscure sayings. the utopians all have a certain degree of education - what would he need to translate them for?

this bleeds into something that isn’t really mentioned, but that i’ve found i have a lot of trouble with in everyday life. autistic people have a tendency to either overexplain (and then have everyone get mad at you because they feel you’re being condescending) or underexplain (and have everyone get mad at you because you haven’t explained anything). the latin would be a case where it feels like a justified underexplanation. you’ll notice that when it comes to anything scientific, he tends to do the reverse, and overexplain. this also happens in classic, whether artemy has asked him to clarify or not.

rigid thinking patterns

the thing i had marked for this was simply his strict adherence to western medical practices and refusal to acknowledge the supernatural, even when it seems obvious - he has a conversation in his route in classic with yulia about this, and that is in fact how he manages to get to her: by asking saburov if there are any other logical skeptics in town. it should be noted they seem to be breaking with this in pathologic 2, where one of his voicelines is “I’m no positivist. There are things in this world beyond our mundane perception.” i have no idea where they’re planning on going with that.

there’s also a quote floating somewhere around twitter about him having been raised by a military man, and militaries tend to enforce very rigid routines. you could say the same thing of block - who (in classic at least) i also have my suspicions about.

highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus

special interests. the one that should obviously come to mind is thanatology, though i would argue latin if not classics in general is a special interest of his as well - in addition to his usage of latin, he also references pericles in the marble nest and was probably refering to the roman occupation of haruspicy in addition to augurs in the same text. he also makes references to shakespeare more than once in both marble nest and pathologic 2.

hyper- or hyperoreactivity to sensory input

i don’t have much written down for this one but there seem to be several places in classic especially where he asks npcs to stop shouting at him. we don’t really have the privilege to know their volume or how they’re interacting with him, but i think it’s also worth noting that he’s the only one of the healers who wears gloves. in pathologic 2 he’s the only named character i can think of who wears them at all. his thing in the lucid dream about the brain being “a border”? gloves are his border, as is his jacket, which may be worn to cut down on sensory issues.

he will also sometimes seem to “overreact” to the situation at hand - such as in classic, when some dogheads mispeak and say that daniil is going to “sterilize” them, and instead of understanding that they must have mispoken, freaks out over the idea that they think they’re going to be… well… sterilized. or in haruspex route, when his reaction to the inquisitor arriving is to threaten suicide.

miscellaneous

he never goes anywhere without that carpet bag. we don’t see it in pathologic 2, but we do hear about it and he doesn’t let it go for a second in classic - not even in the cutscenes where he’s using the microscope. his bag could be a comfort item.

“getting very attached to things like inanimate objects” could work for the bag - but you know what it actually fits the bill much more obviously? the polyhedron. in the haruspex route he recognizes that it’s a lost cause, but he’s still too attached to it to let it go.

in classic at least, daniil is absolutely terrible at lying. most autistic people either are not good at lying, or feel uncomfortable or anxious with having to lie. when he’s asked by yulia and the kids in the polyhedron to lie to block (for different reasons) he’s clearly uncomfortable with the idea that it’ll work. and when it actually comes time to come up with a way to lie to block about why he needs five rifles, your options are to either buckle and tell him the truth, or simply say that you need them for “self-defense”. block believes that you’re not lying to him, but daniil can’t come up with any embeleshments to explain why he needs what he’s asking for.

Commander: Are you hiding something from me? Bachelor: No.

he comes across as naive to other characters. in classic, capella has a voiceline saying, “The Bachelor is not smart. Intelligent, yes… but not smart.” in Pathologic 2, Daniil complains that Aglaya takes him for “a useless dreamer”. he’s also easily used by the Kains to fulfill their endgame in classic.

my final, and absolute favorite: he takes things way too literally. autistic people (and adhd people, from my understanding) have a hard time differentiating jokes and sarcasm. so my favorite moment in marble nest is a case of him taking that earlier advice - to “take heart” literally, by bringing the tragedians a literal human heart:

Tragedian: Oh… Excellency. What a sordid sight! Sorry for underestimating you. You definitely do have… how shall I put it… a creative touch. But this is pure madness. You can’t take things so literally! Daniil: You wanted me to come back to you with an open heart. Well, here I am. …It looked too fitting to be a coincidence.

your mind map, after this, updates to say “I misunderstood the tragedians.”

conclusion

people don’t stop being autistic with age and i think he’s a good example of what it’s like to be in your late 20s and be autistic. i’m sure i missed things as i haven’t finished haruspex route of classic yet and there may just be some other things he does or says that i missed! if anyone has anything to add they think fits i would love to know, thank you for your time :)

#icarus.txt #autistic daniil dankovsky #daniil dankovsky #pathologic meta #ok to rb but i'm not interest in your ''but he's just weird!'' arguments #please keep in mind that this post is about autism #and that this is written by someone w autism...#popular

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thewritewolf · 3 years

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After the End Chapter 11: Take A Break

Chat Noir pays a visit to someone near and dear to him.

First | Previous | Next | Last

@marichatmay

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Chat Noir - or, more accurately at the moment, Astro Chat - flew between the low Jura Mountains. They weren’t nearly as high as the Swiss Alps, but they did let him know that he’d finally crossed the border into Switzerland. It wouldn’t be much longer before he reached the facility.

Not for the first time, he was grateful for Ladybug’s insistence not only on rediscovering how to make the transformation potions on her own, but making so much of the stuff that even after blasting through their resources in the final battle he still had enough of the space cheese for things like this. It was definitely useful - after all, Adrien could hardly be seen on a Parisian train bound for Switzerland when he was supposed to be somewhere in Italy. Although the English tabloids insisted that he was in their country, forgetting that Adrien had an identical cousin.

As for Chat Noir - well, Astro Chat’s suit blended in perfectly well with the cloudless starry night, especially after some alterations to remove some lime green highlights. There was probably only one, maybe two people in all of Paris who might notice that he was gone tonight.

Instead of reassuring him, however, that fact only caused him to frown.

“Claws in.”

Plagg’s bright green eyes appeared in the dark. “You gonna be okay, big guy?”

“Yeah… she’s been getting better, after all. She even recognizes me! Well, most days at least.” Adrien gave Plagg a smile. “And its good to see her again after thinking she was gone for so long.”

“Like seeing a ghost,” Plagg commented. “You sure you want to do this?”

“I have to, Plagg.” Adrien opened his jacket and his kwami flew into his inner pocket. “She’s my mom. I can’t just pretend she isn’t around somewhere.”

He walked onto the main path that lead into the facility, a long term hospital of sorts. Finding it had been a godsend for Adrien - a place that specializes in people waking up from years-long comas? One specifically dedicated to restoring mental and physical wellbeing? It was almost too good to be true. With all the progress she had made so far, it had been worth every euro sending her here. And really, what else was he going to spend a dirty fortune on anyway?

Eventually he made it through the checkpoints and entered through the front door. One of the nurses at the front smiled warmly at him when she noticed him. He placed his hands on the elevated desk.

“Hello, Adrien.” She began checking something on her computer. “Late night visit again?”

“You know how it is,” Adrien said with a sigh. “If any tabloids caught me here, they’d probably start going after my mother.”

“Which is exactly why we have guards.”

“True, but I’d rather not cause you guys any trouble if I can avoid it. You already do such a good job - I don’t want to make it harder.”

“That’s very sweet of you.” The nurse finished whatever it was she was doing on her desktop. “It looks like you’re in luck. Emilie is in therapy right now. Do you need me to take you to her?”

“No, that’s fine.” He gently tapped the desk. “I know the way by now.”

Adrien followed the twisting corridors mechanically, his thoughts back in Paris, split between recent discoveries and the battle that had changed everything for him. What had his father done that had caused him to be immune to the miracle cure? Was it the same thing that turned him into a giant monster? And who had helped him do it? Because now he was almost certain that he’d gotten help - likely from these “Gentlemen” mentioned in his records. But they didn’t appear often. He was working with little more than the whispers of a dead man.

It would have to be enough. He didn’t have any other choice.

Those depressing thoughts took a backseat when he entered the little therapy room where his mother was seated in front of a woman in a lab coat. The doctor glanced at him and gave him a nod before turning back toward his mother.

“Alright, Emilie, we’ll stop there for now. It looks like you’ve got a visitor.”

“Adrien?” She turned toward him and gave him a radiant smile as she held open her arms. He eagerly hugged her, crouching down so she could reach around his back while she sat in her wheelchair. “It's so good to see you sweetheart.”

“Same to you, mom. How’re you doing?” His eyes darted between her and her doctor.

“Every day she can walk a little further, Adrien.” Doctor Lara had learned early on not to call him Mr Agreste. “She’s making phenomenal progress given how long she was in her coma, but it will still be some time before she can walk without support. Mentally… well, she is improving but prognostications are harder given the non-mundane origin of her affliction.”

“Thank you.” He shook her hand as the doctor stood. “I really appreciate everything you’re doing, I know it can’t be easy.”

“Just doing our jobs.” She smiled and walked out of the room, leaving Adrien alone with his mother.

He took the seat the doctor had just left. “So… how are you doing?”

“My memories are still… fuzzy and there are holes in it. Like a bunch of moths built a nest in my closet and ate away at my gala dresses.” She winced. “Sorry, dear. Poor analogy.”

He forced a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Now, my memory may not be what it used to be, but I believe the last time you were here, you were filling me in on your time in high school...?”

His mother always did have a talent for changing the subject, even before everything that happened. But, if she wanted something to talk about to get her mind off her recovery, then Adrien would happily oblige her.

Besides, it didn’t take her long to get tired again. Barely half an hour had passed and she was looking ready to fall asleep. She’d take naps throughout the day to counter it, but that just lead to her being up at all hours of the day. Eventually she’d need to fix her sleep schedule but for now it wasn’t as pressing an issue. Especially since he could visit her under the cover of night.

Eventually he managed to pull the topic into more dangerous ground - Gabriel and his side practices. Getting any leads had been a large part of the reason he’d made this trip now, second only to checking in on his mother.

“Mom?” Emilie turned from the window she had been staring out while listening intently to him and looked him in the eyes. “Have you ever heard of some people called… the Gentlemen?”

His mother frowned and he braced himself for the moment he was expecting - that she either didn’t know anything or that she had forgotten what she had known. This was a shot in the dark for him, a desperate grab for any possible leads. Who else besides Gabriel’s wife would know the intimate details of his business?

Well, besides Nathalie. But she… wasn’t around any more for questioning.

He was pulled out of those morbid thoughts when his mother responded.

“That definitely sounds familiar.” His eyes widened, which went unnoticed by Emilie as she tapped her chin and looked off into the distance. “I seem to remember something about the Boutonnière Noir?”

“What was that? Some kind of group or…?”

“It was a place, but…” She began to glare, annoyed. “I can’t remember where it was! Or even what it was, to be perfectly honest. But it definitely had something to do with them. Maybe it had something to do with an academic too? Someone in your father’s line of work, I think.”

She put her fingers to her temples, rubbing them gingerly. He put a hand on her arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks, mom. That’s already way more than I had - I’m sure it’ll help.”

“I’m glad, dear.” She gave her a weak smile. “And as much as I would love to keep talking, this has really taken it out of me.”

“Of course.” He stood up after giving her another hug. “I’ll let the nurses know you’re ready to go back to your room.”

“Thank you, sweetie. Come back soon!”

Adrien looked back at her from the doorway and offered a smile. “I’ll do my best!”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Emilie Agreste #Plagg #ml fanfiction #MarichatMay2021 #my writing #After the End

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atqh16 · 3 years

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Take My Hand (Say You Need Me Still)

A Daredevil Fic (Matt/Foggy, Girl!Foggy. Pre-Slash)

Summary : Look, getting shot is just the New York experience. You haven’t lived unless you’ve been held at gunpoint at least once. And if you save someone doing it? Hey, bonus!

AO3

Foggy will very openly admit that it was actually a really stupid thing to do. Matt will be downright furious when he finds out. If she makes it out of this alive she’s not keen on facing down the utterly hypocritical wrath of her best friend. She’s pretty sure Karen would defend her which is a nice thought to dwell on.

After Karen had told her about what happened with Wesley, it was like a wall had broken down between them. Suddenly she was so much more relaxed, open. She didn’t look like she was going to throw up every time Foggy talked about how ridiculously admirable albeit stupid she was to insist on constantly putting her life in danger to chase a good story (Lois Lane would be proud).

You’d think Foggy would get a break with having to deal with only one dangerously reckless best friend but apparently life felt that she deserved to handle two

She wouldn’t change a thing.

Though she feels that its incredibly ironic how she finds herself to be the one bleeding out from a bullet wound at the Police Precinct after daring to step in front of a mook with a gun. In her defense it was either her or the 8 month old pregnant lady and really was that much of a choice?

Marci would be really pissed at her too if she ever found out about this even if they've split up for almost 6 months now. That is if she ever found out from where she’s staying in Los Angeles. Knowing how much of a tattle tale Matt is, she’d probably find out. No Foggy Bear this time. Probably just an ass whooping in the form of a chilling reprimand that only serves to remind Foggy how much Marci really cares. Especially since this is the third time she’s gotten hurt in almost 5 years. Must be a record.

Maybe this is the universes way of helping her make up for the fact that she can't be out there in the thick of danger the same way her partners are. She’s not planning on making it a habit because this fucking hurts and the pregnant lady clumsily putting too much pressure on her stomach isn’t helping with that. She bites back a laugh at a sudden random thought that maybe her abdominal fat played a useful role for once and managed to absorb most of the bullets impact as opposed to her vital organs

She’s not brave she knows. Not in the same way Karen and Matt are. She can't even manage to take a bullet without crying because again, it fucking burns. But at the very least she’s comforted knowing neither Matt nor Karen are the ones bleeding out this time.

It’s a soothing thought and it helps that she’s starting to feel numb. There's a faint troubling nudge at the edge of her mine that she's sure is panic at this. Something about how it might be because she’s losing too much blood, she's going into shock. But the feeling is such a welcome compared to the overwhelming sting from before.

Charlotte -the pregnant lady- is saying something. Mouth moving, loud enough that Foggy can register the sound but her brain is filled with too much fuzz to actually tell what she’s saying.

Either way it doesn’t seem to matter. She’s just surprised she doesn’t feel more scared than she is. Her last thought is maybe that’s a cause for concern but really she can’t find it in herself to care. It occurs to her maybe that’s worse

“What the hell were you thinking Foggy?”

Foggy raises her eyebrows, actually impressed. Matt managed to hold off his furious outburst for five days after she woke up from her short induced coma – “It was two days Matt. Relax”, “You were intubated Foggy. You were in the ICU. Don’t tell me to calm down” – and really it’s a full five days more than she’d expected.

“I’m confused. Was I supposed to let the guy put a bullet through our very nice pregnant client?”

“You were supposed to let the police do their job”

“Right, the very understaffed policemen on duty at the station that included the guy who put me in the cell with our client in the first place”

“Why were you arrested again?”, Karen interjected and Foggy doesn’t miss how it was a cautious attempt to drain the heat out of the conversation.

“Obstruction of justice, or so the very hot headed rookie claimed. I wouldn’t let him do an extensive drug search on my lovely cellmate and told him to get a female cop to do it.”

“Where was Brett?”

“He was at the drug bust at the pier with me. I called him there”, it’s Matt’s turn to explain. There's a hint of guilt in his voice and while Foggy doesn’t agree for it to be there, she finds it the perfect moment to throw in another excuse.

“To be fair, I did call both of you to bail me out.”

Karen looks a bit red in the face. Coughing loudly before she says, “I was under cover. At the Irish Parlor”

The angry flush in Matt’s cheeks seem to redden even more “The Parlor Mob ?! Karen….”

“I was with Jessica! Relax, Matt.”

There’s a short moment where Matt seems to have more to protest but instead, “At least one of you has some common sense”

“OK, now you’re just being a hypocritical asshole”, Foggy retorts, rolling her eyes.

“You should’ve waited for back up! For Brett or even me-“

“And what? I don’t think you understand when I say this guy had a gun aimed at our pregnant client and was ready to shoot her point blank any second. God knows why”

“I Don’t… Its just… I.. “, words seem to have tied his tongue into a knot and Karen immediately understands it as her cue to leave.

“I think I’m gonna get some coffee. Have to talk to Jess. She actually asked about you Foggy”, Karen says. Providing an entertained smirk.

“Yeah well after all the times I kept her out of Jail I hope she does”, Foggy replies but there's no heat in it. Only a fondness that surprises even her.

“Tell her I said Hi, and tell her she still owes me my retainer”

Karen lets out a laugh but she doesn’t say anything else. She gives a soft peck on the side of Foggy's head before leaving. The sole of her sneakers pad softly on the linoleum floor until she probably turns a corner after which Matt seems to be satisfied that she’s properly out of earshot.

Foggy raises an eyebrow that she knows Matt can’t see but she trusts her tone conveys her expectation for Matt to continue,“You were saying?”, she prods. Curt.

Matt’s hands are on his hips. A classic Murdock stance the few times he finds his clever tongue has failed him. Shuffling back and forth before taking a deep breath and - “You’re not suppose to get hurt. I know-“ He raises a palm to qualm his best friends protest “- it’s hypocritical of me. I know. But you’re meant to be safe Fog. Karen… I can’t stop her. No matter what I do. I’ve accepted that-“

“Like I’ve accepted the same thing about you?”

“It’s different fog!”, Matts voice is weighted with frustration and he’s gritting his teeth the way he always does when he’s trying to hold back from snapping.

"Matt, breath. I promise I'm not gonna make a habit out of this. I don't think my health insurance can take it. It's going to be hell to get them to cover my third hospital visit in 5 years. I'm pretty sure they're thinking about cancelling my contract at this very moment"

"Leave that to me", there's a challenging snarl in the undertone of Matt's voice - glad to have something else to direct his frustration at - that has something balloon all warm in Foggy's chest.

It's not that Matt has never showed off his protective streak before. She remembers how he reduced one of their classmates to tears in a debate when he found out they'd called her a fat fag at a party a few days before. Which frankly is not the worse she's been called and is just insultingly unoriginal. But it still makes something flutter fondly inside her at the unofficial confirmation of how much Matt still cares.

There hasn't been a lot of that going around lately what with Matt being stretched thin with Daredevil and a new gang trying to claim the territory Fisk had left behind. There hadn't been anything else that could take priority. Which, Foggy truly doesn't begrudge.

But she lost her best friend for months. Thought he was dead. She just got him back. Is it selfish for her to want him for herself for once?

He hasn't just been hers for a very long time now. Which, again, understandable. Matt's a fully independent adult, not an object to own. But she used to be able to hold his attention a lot more than she does now. A part of her knows its not because of her, but years of high school bullying have buried a vindictive voice in her head, constantly trying to convince her that its because she's just not important. Not enough.

Which again is so self-absorbed that she internally cringes every time it comes up. Still, to admit that it doesn't gnaw at her self-esteem would be a lie. Which is why she absolutely refused to raise the issue with her walking, talking lie-detector of a best friend.

She distracted herself with their workload. Both hers and Matts because she hadn't suggested they reopen their firm without knowing exactly what to expect. Not that Matt hadn't pulled his weight. The info he'd gotten for some of their cases as Daredevil was invaluable which is sort of important when their rinky dink little firm absolutely did not have the budget for a private investigator. There's only so many times Foggy can call Jess in for a favor before risking her busting his door down and throwing their office phone out the window.

Which, ok yeah that's not fair. Jess is a drunk asshole but she's not a bitch. Big difference. There would definitely be some empty threats and cussing colourful enough to make a sailor blush. But nothing worse.

So Foggy had done what she could and carried what she could. Which is why when their most recent client had called her from jail in a tearful panic, Foggy hadn't hesitated to rub the lethargy out of her eyes before making her way down to the precinct.

How could she have known that a cop - their clients ex, she'd been told - would pull out a gun on them both? She'd done her best to distract and try to diffuse the situation till one of the other cups could tackle the maniac. But he'd been a lot more trigger happy than any of them expected. Pushing their client out of the way had been instinct. It's not like she had purposely let the bullet hit her. She was just slow. Sue her. Her reflexes aren't that great.

But is it bad that she was having fun basking in Matt's attention right now? Matt mother henning her, from adjusting the position of her bed to chiding her into drinking more water (This is the third glass Matt. Anymore and my bladder is going to burst") to even fluffing her pillow.

Unfortunately she doesn't get to enjoy it for long because despite what waking up from a very long sleep would suggest, she still feels exhausted. The pain-killers are weighing her limbs down and the filter between her brain and her mouth has turned from a sieve to a funnel and she doesn't really want to say anything she's going to regret. Not anything bitter or sharp. Just thoughts. Feelings. Things that she's not ready to face, let alone voice.

But she can't stop the warmth rising in her cheeks when Matt lifts a hand to her temple to push some stray strands behind her ear ("It's growing out", "I like it. It's more you", "Not very professional though", "Avocados don't follow society's idea of professionalism", "Well you got me there"). Or from curling her fingers around his hand when he grips hers between both of his, brought up to his lips as if in prayer.

Matt has never been able properly look at her of course. Hello! Blind! But even with his radar senses, the lack of use of his eyes and the presence of his glasses make it so that he never really bothers to adjust his pupils to give the illusion of eye contact. It took some effort and time but after a while she managed to learn how to read her best friend from his body language and the simple way he moved to communicate what he couldn't or wouldn't say.

From the difference between a fake laugh and a genuine one to the way he tilts his head when you had his full attention. How he stiffens when he's annoyed or pissed. The disparity of a toothy smile and a open lipped snarl.

Foggy knows her best friend. Has spent 10 years collecting bits and pieces of him and while Matt might disagree with the image Foggy has formed of him in her mind, Foggy refuses to budge on it. Matt insists that he's built with the devil under his skin and a fury that burns with it. Contrary to Matt's belief, Foggy has always seen and known that part of Matt existed. Its just, to Foggy, they didn't hide what laid underneath. The empathy and kindness that curled like roots from which all Matt's actions rose from. From pushing an old man out of the way of a speeding truck to starting a firm that barely earned pennies for the sake of helping the innocent to even his need to stalk the night with nothing but a cotton shirt protecting him from harm.

So foggy knows. She knows how Matt acts when he's around his friends. When he's around potential hook ups and even when he was with Elektra. Loath as Foggy was to see it.

But right here, right now, there's something different in the way Matt is moving. Something tender. His thumb swirling circles on the back of her hand. His lips brush over her knuckles. Chapped and rough but the kiss he leaves on them is lingering and hot from his breath.

Even as her eyes droop, Foggy's heart drums a furious beat that threatens to burst through her ribs.

"Matty?", Foggy barely manages to get his name out. So tired, blackness already easing her away from him. She feels more then see's one of Matt's hands gliding down to clasp her wrist while the other pulls hers closer to rest his cheek on the back of it.

"Sleep Foggy. We'll talk when you wake up"

She does and this time, nothing hurts.

#Daredevil #matt murdock #foggy nelson #Matt/foggy #My writing #my fic stuff #whump #angst

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alicemarion · 3 years

Text

OUTLAST : THE MURKOFF ACCOUNT ( PART 2 ) sentence starters !

this prompt was made using dialogue from issues #4 , #5 and #6 of outlast : the murkoff account by red barrels . feel free to edit any of these to make them more suitable !

“ _____ wasn’t fucking around about disappearing . ”

“ our chances of finding a lead in this are vanishingly slim . ”

“ what you got there ? ”

“ i hate it when they have families . ”

“ since when did _____ hurt women and kids ? ”

“ sorry , that was in bad taste . ”

“ he’s been gone for a while now . ”

“ i saw him back just last night . ”

“ i saw him , standing right over there . ”

“ drove my dogs batshit , which is weird . ”

“ they always used to like him . ”

“ _____ said _____ was here last night . ”

“ it’d take us days to find him under all this shit if he was . ”

“ guess we better get started then . ”

“ it’s garbage . ”

“ is ... is some of this garbage moving ? ”

“ ants . the place is infested . ”

“ what do you mean ? ”

“ emailed him ants . not the strangest thing i’ve seen . ”

“ these look like passwords . ”

“ ouch ! ”

“ little fucker bit me . ”

“ black ants don’t bite . ”

“ motherfucker ! motherfuckfuckfuck - ”

“ they’re all over me ! jesus ! ”

“ not there ! not there ! ”

“ water ! water ! ”

“ goddammit ! make room ! i’m coming in ! ”

“ fuck this ! ”

“ it’s not working ! ”

“ we need fire ! ”

“ take your fucking clothes off ! ”

“ now do me ! ”

“ got anything i could wear ? ”

“ nope . ”

“ what the fuck am i gonna do ? ”

“ hey , that’s the same homeless guy . ”

“ that’s not possible . ”

“ i’m sure it’s him . he’s following us . ”

“ hey ! stop ! ”

“ where’d you go ... ? ”

“ you work for _____ , don’t you ? ”

“ ... who are you ? ”

“ i believe you’ve heard of me . ”

“ you’ve been following us . ”

“ what’s your name ? ”

“ yes . i’ve been watching you . ”

“ you’ve got something most running dog mercenaries don’t . ”

“ i’m not a mercenary . ”

“ you’ve got shame . you know what you’re doing is wrong . ”

“ it’s a job . ”

“ but you’re somebody who’d chase after me , despite the fact that you’re injured and naked . who does that ? ”

“ ... i can’t stand not knowing . ”

“ tell me your name . ”

“ i’ve read your files , _____ . ”

“ six years ago you leaked company files and vanished . ”

“ been off the map ever since , encouraging other whistleblowers . ”

“ you’re trying to destroy _____ . ”

“ of course i am . ”

“ they’re evil . you work for the devil . ”

“ you’re protecting _____ ? ”

“ you’ll never find him . ”

“ i couldn’t tell you if i knew . ”

“ willful ignorance . i remember that . almost let me sleep some nights . ”

“ how do you sleep ? ”

“ how do you justify working for people you know are evil ? ”

“ _____ was a pebble in a pond . ”

“ that is where the real sickness spreads . ”

“ those are coordinates . ”

“ if you cannot look at what’s there and not eat yourself hollow with shame , you’re not human anymore . ”

“ i need your help . ”

“ i need somebody still inside _____ . ”

“ i’m not asking , i’m telling you . you’re going to help me . ”

“ ... i have to do my job . ”

“ what are you ... the fuck ?! ”

“ freeze ! i said freeze , motherfucker ! ”

“ i’m leaving . ”

“ please don’t make me hurt you . ”

“ he’s ... a monster . ”

“ what was he shoving in your face ? ”

“ fucked if i know . ”

“ let’s get you some clothes before i get too turned on . ”

“ dental records . my identification . he wasn’t done with me . ”

“ and we weren’t done with him . ”

“ this make any kind of sense to you ? ”

“ nothing i feel good about . ”

“ but at least it closes the books for now . ”

“ the evidence couldn’t get any more thoroughly destroyed . ”

“ there is one more thing . ”

“ nothing i know of . ”

“ i wouldn’t put too much faith in anything i heard from an animated pile of maggots . ”

“ maybe we should check it out . ”

“ nah , leave it alone . ”

“ you should get home , spend some time with your daughter ... make sure she doesn’t grow up to be somebody like me . ”

“ he ain’t gonna let us get away . ”

“ every step we take , the less power he got . ”

“ we’ll get to the wicked part of the world , and god hisself ain’t even gonna be able to find us . ”

“ do you know if yeshua - ha nostri was a real person ? like , in the bible ? ”

“ never heard of him . ”

“ when’s that book report due ? ”

“ you’re getting an early jump . ”

“ figured i’d be too beat to work on wednesday . ”

“ you didn’t touch your dinner . ”

“ i wasn’t hungry . it’s not like i need the extra calories . ”

“ _____ , honey , that’s crazy . ”

“ you’re a string bean . a beautiful string bean . ”

“ shut up , _____ , god ... ”

“ there’s somebody messing with our mailbox . ”

“ your daughter is connected . ”

“ my partner and i had agreed not to investigate . ”

“ turns out i was lying . ”

“ i hear you now . where are you ? it’s noisy . ”

“ sorry to interrupt you on a sunday ... ”

“ you’re not interrupting anything . ”

“ i was just ... folding laundry , listening to prairie home companion . ”

“ i don’t think i’m gonna make it into the office tomorrow . ”

“ i need to spend some time with _____ . ”

“ no worries . we all need personal time . ”

“ fuck me ... no service ! ”

“ i guess the heat and the sun got to me . ”

“ heavenly god . ”

“ _____ ? what’s wrong ? ”

“ are they out of hot chocolate ? ”

“ multiple perforations of the intestines ... spread throughout her blood ... had to induce a coma in order to arrest progress ... internal bleeding ... ”

“ surgery is no longer an option . ”

“ _____ is dead . i’m so sorry . ”

“ aiiee ! ”

“ i’m so sorry honey , i didn’t mean ... ”

“ we don’t want no trouble ! ”

“ i’m just gon’ take your pistol . ”

“ hey , hey , take it easy . jesus fucking christ ... ”

“ don’t you take that name in vain ! ”

“ safety’s on . ”

“ who’s the girl ? ”

“ jesus , how pregnant is she ? ”

“ god have mercy on your soul . ”

“ i’m not going to hurt you . ”

“ you need helllll ... ”

“ mmm - hmm . ”

“ that’s all you got ? ‘ mmm - hmm ? ’ ”

“ i heard you . it’s the least crazy thing you’ve told me so far . ”

“ fair enough . ”

“ you are in such deep shit . ”

“ i know . ”

“ you lied to me , you went off the reservation . ”

“ what the fuck are you doing , _____ ? ”

“ i fucked up . ”

“ don’t fuck yourself any deeper . i’m on my way . ”

“ spill . ”

“ okay , number one , you work for _____ , not _____ . ”

“ number two , you don’t interfere with ongoing experiments . ”

“ we only enter the equation when the science is done and the side effects need mopping up . ”

“ shit , you don’t even know if this is an experiment . ”

“ and number three , fuck you . ”

“ you don’t work without me . we’re partners , you stupid motherfucker . ”

“ sorr ... ”

“ don’t say you’re sorry . i hate that . ”

“ you want the silver lining to your shit show ? ”

“ you don’t suppose you brought me a suit ? ”

“ i even brought you a tie . hope yellow’s alright . ”

“ you called it a ‘ vision ’ . not a hallucination . ”

“ it felt real . ”

“ first rule in the playbook is don’t get high on your own product . ”

“ what about brain injury ? ”

“ the scan must have been corrupted . ”

“ is there more to your testimony ? ”

“ yes , of course , excuse me . i was just ... ”

“ could we see those brain scans ? ”

“ they’re already off to the lab , but we have copies . ”

“ evidence , all of it . this had become a matter of containment . ”

“ we’d love to meet the patient . ”

“ the little guy in here has been kicking up a storm . ”

“ is that a tattoo ? ”

“ a globe . no , wheels . ‘ wheels within wheels ’ . that’s biblical , from the book of ... ezekiel . ”

“ you can’t have him ! you can’t . i’ll die before i’ll let you kill him . ”

“ i seen the messenger and i know i ain’t burdened with the enemy . ”

“ my blood is true , i’ve sipped at the fountain and borne the pain and marks of salvation . ”

“ you ain’t gonna take my baby , you ain’t ... ain’t ... ”

“ get a doctor ! ”

“ doctor ! ”

“ we lost her . we need to leave , now . ”

“ she’s dead , gone . there was nothing we could do . ”

“ minimal footprint . ”

“ i realized too late i was operating above my security clearance . ”

“ are you sure she was dead ? ”

“ yeah , case closed . ”

“ it’s sad . ”

“ still , i gotta get home . i said i’d be there . ”

“ you’re a good dad ... you always take care of your girl . ”

“ _____ ! you home ?! ”

“ you work for us now . ”

“ we didn’t find dick . ”

“ there we go , my child . every last drop of salvation . your children are waiting for you in heaven . ”

“ god does not pour half measures . ”

“ the storm is abating . all these undeserved blessings . ”

“ he’s still not answering . ”

“ send people to his house . ”

“ they’ve been feeding _____ information . ”

“ that’s no good . ”

“ i’d put my money on _____ . ”

“ if we find him , i’ll put electrodes on _____ . ”

“ how many bodies we looking at ? ”

“ hundreds . it’ll take us days to get them all sorted . ”

“ lot of these local corpses show signs of cyanide poisoning . ”

“ god damn this guy’s heavy ... ”

“ that doesn’t look like cyanide . ”

“ yeah , a lot of them got creative about dying . ”

“ took a lot of what killed her to get the job done . ”

“ last name sounds like a crustacean you’re not supposed to eat . ”

“ how did you know ? ”

“ he was supposed to be making sure they didn’t find this place . ”

“ we got one breathing here ! ”

“ ‘ and i only am escaped alone to tell thee . ’ ”

“ is that from wrath of khan ? ”

“ it’s actually book of job , by way of moby ... ”

“ i know what it is , you don’t have to try and impress me . ”

“ well , holy shit . ”

“ his eyes are all pupil . completely catatonic . ”

“ we need to dig in his head . don’t be gentle . ”

“ they rarely are . ”

“ there’s blood on the walls . looks like something was written and smeared away . ”

“ what do you want to do ? ”

“ actually , no . do me a favor and find his corpse , because if he’s still alive , he’s fucking dangerous . ”

“ where’s _____ ? ”

“ you’re asking the wrong question . ”

“ i’ll still help you find the answer , but you’ll need to trust me . ”

“ dead , twice . ”

“ how about you just tell me whatever it is you want to tell me . ”

“ it’s not surprising religion would be such an effective delivery mechanism . ”

“ gods communicating with men , gods dividing themselves into components that men could understand . a trinity . ”

“ in the name of the father ... and of the son ... and of the holy spirit . amen . ”

#prompt.#sentence starters #sentence prompt #outlast rp

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parasite-core · 3 years

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@faunscozyspace so here’s the looong answer

So Draven was a regular poor farm kid in Mendev, the country unfortunate enough to be next to a demonic rip in reality called the Worldwound. Because of it the land is mostly fallow so farming is not lucrative. His parents supplemented it by fishing in the Lake of Mists and Veils, but the lake is treacherous and they had to be cautious with their expeditions. His father also did odd jobs around town, helping to fix roofs and tools or tend to cattle, and was all around generally well liked, so they got by because of their community.

Then one day demons broke through the Wardstone barrier protecting the rest of the world from the Worldwound. This demon raiding party came across Draven’s family farm, and they tortured and slaughtered everyone inside. They were not fast about it, and at one point Draven lost consciousness from the pain and trauma of what was happening around him. He was saved by some local retired crusaders who’d heard the commotion and grabbed their old arms and armor to slay and chase off the abyssal scourge. Unfortunately, Draven was the only survivor. He was in a coma for close to a month while his wounds healed—all but a terrible mark on his left arm, the Mark of Deskari, the demon lord of Locusts and Pestilence, which never closed and scarred, but festered and bled. The cleric’s finally had him bandage it and told him to keep it hidden, as others would jump to the wrong conclusions about such a thing.

Unfortunately rumors had already begun to spread, and by the time he was taken into the Light-Oath Orphanage, owned by one of the retired crusaders, former captain Scarlet Jules, the children had heard of him. The boy who had survived what no one should have. The boy whose body had become strangely hardy since the ordeal, despite having been a somewhat scrawny kid in his youth. The boy who might have made a deal with a demon. The boy who might have demonic blood inside of him. The boy marked by evil. The boy who might not be a boy as all, but a demon in disguise. All kinds of rumors followed him, and it left him isolated from his peers.

Until Leto Jules held out a hand of friendship.

Leto was a brilliant golden tiefling, abandoned to the orphanage with no record of who his mother and father were. He was roughly the same age as Draven, maybe a little younger. He understood being shunned for rumors and connections to demons you had no control over. So he tried to invite Draven to play with him. At first Draven was hesitant. He had never met a tiefling before, and his appearance with his sharp fangs and twisted horns brought to mind the monsters that had killed his family and tortured him. He refused. But Leto did not relent. He kept trying to befriend Draven, taking every opportunity he could to try to include him. He wouldn’t force the subject when Draven said no, but he would always come back when another opportunity arose. Eventually Draven warmed up to his presence, and then grew fond of it. After a year together the two of them became inseparable. Draven in time grew to think of Leto as a surrogate brother. Leto in turn grew very protective of Draven, despite Draven seeing himself as the one who needed to protect those around him.

And as those two grew close, Leto’s natural charm began drawing others to them as well. Gabrielle, a kindhearted aasimar cleric, whose instructors feared she was too soft for the work of a field medic. Sophia, an orphaned Kellid girl who lived up to her people’s reputation for battle. She was fierce and vicious, but she had a clear soft spot for Gabrielle, who also worried over her in combat and tended to favor healing her—sometimes to the detriment of others. Everyone in the group knew Sophia had a crush on Gabbie and vice-versa—it was only a matter of time until those two boneheads came out and admitted it. Issac, the youngest of the group and the only one besides Draven who didn’t came to the orphanage as an infant. Issac lost his parents in an accident he didn’t like talking about when he was 13. He was quiet, shy, extremely unsure of himself despite his clear skill with magic, and always a bit droopy-eyed, like she was about to fall asleep. He was also the only religious skeptic in the group, despite being a celestial blooded sorcerer. And last but certainly not least was Lorette, a bard who was seeking for his friends to make big names for themselves so he could be the one to write the ballads and tales and earn a name for himself in that manner. He was a short blond man whose large personality made up for his stature. He was always the most boisterous in the room, always the center of attention, and generally pretty well liked by the sorts who enjoy his kind of big personality.

So these six made an adventuring party, and when Draven was 20 they headed out to the Crusader city of Kenabres to enlist.

Things…didn’t go well. About an hour outside of the city, a demon broke through the Wardstone again. Draven felt the Mark of Deskari on his arm begin to burn and bleed severely, and he immediately knew something was wrong. There was no time to warn his friends before all hell broke loose. They had trained together, they knew how to fight…in theory. But they had never been in a real battle. And they didn’t have cold iron or good aligned weapons, so even when they did hit the target it did nothing. The demon ripped them apart. Gabrielle—innocent and sweet, aimed at for being an aasimar, never saw it coming. Sophia—flying into a hopeless rage over the love she’d never confessed to’s corpse, before falling beside her. Issac, terrified, trying to draw on his celestial power in one breath and cursing the gods that had turned his life into this mockery in the next. He fell silent with barely a whimper. Lorette tried to flee, all grandeur lost. He didn’t get far.

Draven tried to defend Leto with his shield. He felt claws rake across his face, there was a terrible pain and then a terrible cold, and then the next thing he remembers is waking up in a temple’s healing center in Kenabres. Somehow Leto had gotten them to safety, the lucky bastard. But not before Draven had lost his left eye.

He had to spend the next year relearning the sword and shield with only one eye, regaining his hand eye coordination and relearning to tell distances, and in that time he ended up relegated to the lowest most looked down upon branch of the crusades: The Raven Corps. And there he remained.

Until the fateful day the Wardstone was destroyed, he and six others were tossed into the caverns below Kenabres, and by the end of it his recent friend and mentee from the Raven Corps, Auriel Answerer, died in battle against a Baphomet Cultist who had been leading a conspiracy to infiltration the Church of Iomedae, after dealing her a crippling blow. Auriel we discovered after his death had been meant to be Iomedae’s Chosen One, the Paladin to wield the intelligent holy sword Radiance. However since Auriel’s spirit vouched for Draven, both the honor and the burden or wielding Radiance fell to Draven. Radiation was not pleased—they did not come off as terribly fond of their replacement wielder who wasn’t even a true Paladin.

Not longe after we met an eldritch archer magus in the sewers looking after some orphans. So our party became Luna the innocent accused serial killer The Butcher of Balestreet, Melody the Inquisitor of Shelyn who followed a holy songbird to find us, and Hiskaria a convicted murderer who was supposed to be in the Raven’s Corps as community service under orders of her land’s kind Kevoth-Kul after all forms of execution failed. So Draven has Hiskaria as his responsibility now whether he likes it or not (she grows on him)

Since then long story’s short: we met The person Draven hero worships, Commander Irabeth Tirabade, got a mission from her to destroy the final shard of the Wardstone before the cultists could turn it into a weapon of mass destruction. So we did. And Draven got closer to the party after spending a long time holding them at arm’s length because they risked everything to keep Leto safe after Draven saw a scry that he was in danger and that if they retreated now he might not make it back safely. Hiskaria avoided our entire boss fight by tapping the Wardstone shard with a rod of cancellation while we had her distracted and it blew up and tore the enemies apart. We had some visions of what was meant to happen—all bad—but we broke fate and made a better reality. Then we got the power of the Wardstone and became mythic.

After that we’ve met Iomedae the Inheritor, Draven’s goddess, herself and got three boons from her for helping to cleanse her temple of the Deskari cultists and their desecration. Then we met the Queen of a Mendev who was somehow equally cool. She knighted all of us and promoted Draven whether he likes it or not. So after naming his new Legion he is now Sir Draven Imani, the One-Eye’d Knight, Commander of the Adamant Shield Legion.

A Legion strong enough to stand unyielding before the forces of the Worldwound like an Adamantine Shield to protect the innocent of the world outside.

Since then we’ve led Draven’s army to liberate a number of fortresses. Had some insubordination that almost ended really badly when some of the men went to desert—and then they were snatched up by gargoyles. We fought through hordes of ghouls, gargoyles, a half-fiend gargoyle inquisitor, an incubus, and a nabasu to get to them. The nabasu killed Melody, but by a miracle there was a scroll of resurrection with the healing supplies kept under the podium behind the podium of what was once a church of Iomedae, Draven isn’t powerful enough to cast this magic consistently, so he had to take a gamble…and it worked. With Iomedae and Shelyn’s blessings the spell worked, and we had Melody back. For the first time ever Draven’s curse did not take hold.

The three crusaders we saved were ashamed after we’d literally put our lives in the line for them, and they returned to camp. Draven later spoke to their ringleader Arles. He explained he knew were Arles was coming from—mourning caused people to act irrationally. He just hoped it wouldn’t cause them more problems in the future. Arles gave Draven a book of tactics to look over to try to be a better commander in future battles, which from an inscription inside of the cover Draven discovered was originally from Arles’ love Jellel, who had died under Draven’s command in his first real battle leading an army. He committed Jellel’s name to memory, ashamed that he had been so new to command that he hadn’t known anything about them before they died because of his imperfect orders. From here out he became much more focused on his soldiers. He prioritizes what will be best for his men, he doesn’t want to betray the trust of people who are putting their lives on the line for him. Legit if it ever comes down to a choice between doing something that will protect his army or something that protects the party, I don’t know which side of the coin he’ll land on. But I’m heavily leaning protect his men. The others can take care of themselves. His army relies on him, he’s the one with mythic power leading them, if he were to abandon them he’d be choosing the deaths of hundreds or thousands of people and he couldn’t live with himself if he did that.

Fun fact: One of Draven’s mythic abilities is called Divine Source. It gives him two domains as if he were a god, and people who follow him can prepare spells from him as if he were a god. He has *no idea* he has this ability, beyond suddenly having a few new spell-like abilities he didn’t before, but he’s just chalking that up to ‘Wardstone weirdness’ same with him suddenly learning to speak celestial (and he’s going to freak when he suddenly learns Abyssal next level 😈) I look forward to the day someone in his army spontaneously starts getting protection domain spells from him and it’s like “that’s not Iomedaen. Draven we’ve seen you cast this on Melody before do you know what this is?” And Draven will nope out of existence because he didn’t want to be a commander he definitely doesn’t want to be a god or god adjacent, Melody can be the party’s demi-god thanks.

Anyways he led his army to march on the Citadel city of Drezen, which had been captured and held by demons for 100 years. No one had managed to get close to taking it back since, everyone who had tried died.

The party took it back in three days. One to clear out the exterior defenses. One to clear out the first floor and kill the army’s commanding officer and show off his severed head in the most dramatic way Draven could think of to make the enemy army retreat, and one to go into the basement and kill a Shadow Demon and save their friend who he was possessing.

And then the demon general Aponavicious almost cut Draven’s head off through a portal, if he hadn’t activated the magical Sword of Valor—the banner once wielder by Iomedae herself—at just the right time. It closed the portal and saved his life. But things weren’t over. She couldn’t teleport directly in, but she could teleport her army outside and march on Drezen. And that’s what she began to do. With an army of thousands upon thousands of demons.

Until a single figure in shining silver armor stepped out from behind Aponavicious. A golden tiefling. He spoke to her, then viciously wrapped her in spiked chains. Words were had, and then the army retreated.

Leto looked across the battlefield at Draven, held up his right hand, and Draven felt the mark on his left hand began to react. He heard Leto’s voice in his head. “Don’t worry. I won’t let them hurt you.”

Then he teleported away, too.

So Draven was nearly catatonic for a bit after that revelation of his brother working with the enemy. He tried Sending Leto but only got a response that wishes come true when you least expect them, and to meet him at the Ivory Labyrinth. And that he would protect him.

So Draven is extremely confused. Then a few days later it turned out Melody is actually the demigod child of Desna and Shelyn, so there’s that on top of things. Then Draven had some more self revelations a few days later.

None of them good.

They’d been asked by Irabeth, who’d been promoted to Lord Captain of Drezen, to look into stopping some raiders who were attacking their supply lines. Easy right? Just people, no cults, no demons, just desperate people in the Worldwound making bad choices. We could deal with that.

Or so we thought, until the party got lost in a petrified forest in the way to the raiders fortress, and Draven’s mark started acting up, so consistently that they could use it as a compass pointing the way to their destination. So clearly there was more to this than met the eyes.

Luna discovered that the raiders were being held here and forced to continue their raids at threat of death by their leader Marhokev. Luna promised if he led them to their leader, she and her friends would take care of him so they could go free. He warned that if it came down to a fight, Marhokev would force us to fight the raiders. Luna assured him that we had a lot of resources in our side to keep them safe. The raider placed his faith in us, and after working out how to get the entire party past the alarms Luna had passed via Invisibility, we were led inside.

There Draven met a large raider man who immediately locked eyes with him and grinned, referring to Draven as kin. Seeing Draven’s confusion he explained they both shared Lady Jerribeth’s blood. And they had both made a wish. Draven was confused and trying not to give into his first instinct to just go on the offensive, instead shakily explaining that he didn’t know what the man was talking about. Marhokev laughed, realizing Draven didn’t remember what he had wished for. So he told Draven a story. About his own life. His family had lived faithfully in Mendev for generations. And all it had saddled him with was demonic taint in his blood. He’d lived with a violent temper his entire time. He’d found it impossible to make a name for himself, or to keep down any sort of respectable position.

Then one day Lady Jerribeth came to him, and offered him anything he could desire. So he wished for power. And now he had it. Power and people to lord it over. He was living the life of a king as a raider. So, when given the chance to have it all, he took it. And it appeared when Draven was given the same chance, he’d squandered it away on something he couldn’t even recall. A pity. But Mahokev still felt something for their kinship, so he was willing to open his arms to let Draven join his band.

Draven said absolutely not, and that the time for talking was over. That was his final answer. He saw now what sort of man Mahokev was, and hr wasn’t one Draven could do anything for.

The raider flew into a mindless rage and attacked Draven, but Draven reflected him off his shield. Draven managed to hit the raider, but his rage powers activated to begin healing the damage, leaving Draven’s average sword arm virtually useless as-is.

While he had his stand off, Hiskaria blasted the raider’s pet ice drake with a scorching ray and peppered it with arrows, quickly finishing the beast before it was a terrible threat.

And Melody began dancing, distracting the other raiders so that the party wouldn’t have to hurt them.

Hiskaria and Luna began helping Draven to damage the raider, their much more respectable damage output doing a number on him. He made a break for it, aiming for Melody to try to snap his minions out of their trances.

Draven was having none of that. He was aiming to stop him in his tracks—but he stopped him alright, with a blade right through the rib cage and into the heart. Marhokev fell.

It appeared the battle was over. Melody ended her performance with a flourish, the raiders were grateful that we hadn’t killed any of them and that now they could leave the Worldwound and return to the places they’d once been from, or make new homes elsewhere.

None of the party were paying Marhokev’s corpse any mind. Not until his marked arm had ripped itself from its socket, and clamped onto Draven’s throat. He failed his save and suffocated, being knocked unconscious immediately despite his frankly absurd number of hit points. Melody ran over and yanked the hand off Draven. Burnt flesh pulled away from where the hand met skin, and underneath a second Mark of Deskari was emblazoned across his neck.

Draven’s had a lot to think about since then. His feelings about having demon’s blood in his veins in general, as well as his feelings about it being Jerribeth’s blood specifically, the architect of Drezen’s fall, likely the cause of his family’s deaths, likely the Glabrezu who made Leto start acting strangely, and a demon with untold amounts of innocent blood on her hands. He’s wondering exactly what he wished for—he assumes as a terrified tortured child who just saw his family tortured and killed that he probably wished for it to end and to be safe, but he doesn’t know the exact wording, which with these things the exact wording is important. He’s going to wait to talk to Nurah to try to regain his lost memories for that. He’s also really worried about what sort of wish Leto made. And he’s worried that he’s compromised, that when he meets Jerribeth in person no matter how much he hates her she’ll be able to worm her way into his mind and make him do what she wants because of him being so bound to her. Plus the foreboding feeling about having a new mark of Deskari, and the fact he feel like more power began to awaken within him when he received it. The fear that his soul is bound for Deskari no matter how faithful he is to Iomedae, and had been since he was a child. There’s just…a lot.

He also just really wants to kill Jerribeth.

#draven imani #long post #my ocs #i went overboard #I wasn’t kidding that I’m really bored lol #pathfinder #pathfinder wotr spoilers #pathfinder wotr

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woffordswords · 3 years

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NieR Replicant (Part 1: History and Myth)

NieR Replicant begins with a boy, huddling in the corner of a derelict store, nestled in a ruined city totally devoid of any signs of life. We are told by expository text that this is summer, and yet snow falls from the sky and somber operatic vocals create a sense of sadness and loss, rather than one of rebirth and renewal. This is, we come to sense, a instance of humanity itself on the verge of extinction. The player takes control of the boy who, wielding a long metal pipe, fights off misshapen humanoid creatures who stagger forwards towards him, swinging heavy blades and displaying only an instinctual drive towards destruction. After the initial fight, the boy turns back and retreats to an aisle in the store where a young girl, his sister, “Yonnah”, lies in wait. She is sick, likely dying, and he is struggling to protect her from threats coming from without even as she is consumed by the disease attacking her from within. His struggle, we see, is a futile one. There is no help to be found, no medicine to give her, and no sustenance to aid them, save for a single cookie rescued from a tin by Yonnah while the player was fighting to protect her. In this moment of desperation, Yonnah resists her brother’s urging that she should eat the entire cookie herself and expresses a reciprocal love and concern for her brother and his health, insisting that they split the cookie in half. Love and a willingness to sacrifice in a time of crisis is here cemented as one of the game’s central themes.

A jolt, the cookie falls to the floor as more enemies appear and another fight begins. The boy reaches out to a book, a tome of knowledge, a record of the past, in order to gain magical power necessary to fight off these invaders. He had previously resisted the book’s appeals to him, which were spoken out loud by the book to signal it’s magical sentience, but now succumbs to it. He had previously told Yonnah not to touch a similar book that lay by her side, but he chooses to make the sacrifice he wished to spare her from. We don’t really know the reason for the boy’s initial distrust of the tome, but it is clearly signaled. After defeating waves and waves of dark creatures, there is stillness and the boy returns to his sister only to find that she too, in this moment of desperation, had succumb to a temptation for the power to protect another that the book had signaled. But unlike the boy, whose covenant seems to have increased his strength greatly, the girl’s choice seems to have weakened her even further, bringing her closer to death. Running across her skin and emanating outward like inky discharge from an octopus are strange black words, which we will come to learn are the symptoms of a new disease, a sinister unprecedented threat to humanity that had emerged out of a moment in which salvation seemed, if not assured, at least possible for the first time. Holding his sister tightly, the boy screams to the heavens, pleading for help despite the impossibility that anyone will hear his cry.

This is the opening sequence of NieR and it is one that the player may or may not think about quite a bit as the play the game because it’s relation to the totality of the events that follow is evident and yet never fully made clear. The rest of the game takes place in a setting that is entirely removed from this opening sequence. We are told it is 1,500 years later, humanity has not disappeared, but has reverted to a pre-modern state, living amidst the ruins of modern civilization. What remains, curiously, to link us to that moment in the supposed past is the exact same boy and girl in a nearly identical situation. The girl is sick, the brother wants to help her all by himself. The girl, frustrated by her own inability to act, seeks out a higher power, this time a rare and beautiful flower that promises luck and wealth to any who obtain it. She searches in a ruined temple where she is overcome and falls into a magical coma, but the brother tracks her down and rescues her. However, upon their return home, the same dark words emerge from her skin, only now we have a name for the condition that produces them: “the black scrawl”. The boy knows of this disease as it is already running rampant throughout his world. What’s more, he knows that it is fatal. But a chance presents itself, an ancient book that speaks and grants magical powers is found at the site of the sister’s imprisonment. A legend of unknown providence tells of a struggle between good and evil, between light and dark, in which this book somewhat ambiguously holds the key to vanquishing a dark plague from the land. And so begins a quest, to fight the dark creatures, “shades” as we now know them to be called, that threaten this land so as to unlock the full power of the book with the aim that in doing so, eventually, the sister, and all the others who suffer with this strange disease, might be cured.

How is it that the exact same boy and girl came to be involved in such a similar situation, albeit in such a different context. They do not appear to know of their past life. Were they saved somehow, delivered from their impending demise, only to have to face it again? Many possibilities may spin through the players head, but ultimately the game chooses to leave this matter unresolved. We never learn how it is possible that the boy and the girls survived their ordeal, how they have come to exist over a thousand years apart from when we first witnessed them. And in the absence of such knowledge and in the repeated echoes of their story, as it recurs in elongated form in the game’s present, we come to understand that it only makes sense if we ascribe to it, at least partially, the status of myth. That is to say that we are not meant to understand these two sets of events within the game as causally connected, preceding from one to the other in the manner of history, but rather as a timeless and eternal cycle from which essential patterns of human existence can be observed and reflected on.

The question of the relation between myth and history is thus entertained, but left open. We are led by the game to think about how these two symmetrical stories might be causally linked, but such a link is only alluded to and never fully substantiated. The passage from myth to history is essentially a sort of transcendence, a passage from one knowledge system to another. Such a transcendence is inherently unrepresentable because neither system of knowledge can account for the other within the limits of its own terms. This is a complicated way of saying that, for instance, once historical causality between two sets of events, one existing in the mythical past, the other in historical present, is established, the past events would cease to be mythical because their essential, timeless character would be invalidated. The only way this transition could be represented is if there were some way to figure the transcendence of humanity, or human consciousness, from one state of being/knowing to another.

In NieR, the basis for thinking causality between the opening’s mythical past and the main game’s historical present is through the transcendence of one reality for another. Specifically, a transition from a biological reality to a digital one. This possibility is conveyed to the player as the possible result of an experiment referred to as “Project Gestalt”. Put simply, Project Gestalt attempted to separate human minds from bodies because said bodies were failing, consumed by disease and thus no longer capable of supporting life. After human memories and consciousnesses were separated and preserved, they would be implanted into new bodies, known as replicants (in an homage to Blade Runner), which would be immune to the disease and thus capable of allowing human life to continue unabated. The many difficulties in conceiving how such as transformation of humanity would be possible (how is consciousness extracted, how are the replicants made, how are human consciousness and replicant combined) are eventually, in the game’s conclusion, resolved to the degree that it is implied that all that we have seen before us in the game’s main narrative has actually been playing out in a simulated, virtual world (which, in my mind still doesn't really resolve these questions, but it does make answers to them slightly more plausible given the godlike control that programmers have over virtual systems).

The transcendence of reality represented by Project Gestalt is plausible, but also unsubstantiatable. For us to acknowledge it as actually occurring, we must be willing to accept that the boy we witnessed in the game’s introduction was somehow able to save his sister, as well as humanity at large, by transferring their consciousness, as well as his own, from the reality that he had lived in to a simulated reality that he created (or that was created for him). This scenario is unlikely at best given what we see of him and his past, but not impossible. The game chooses to leave the connection between the events of the prologue and the main game unresolved. Thus, it figures this transcendence as a gap, or an abyss, in which the unthinkable can be thought, but not ascertained.

However, even as it makes this specific passage from myth to history thinkable, it moves to invalidate it in a counter motion in order to keep the sense of it’s mythical, rather than historical, resonance alive. Once we become aware of the premise of Project Gestalt, as well as it’s limitation – it turns out that the new replicants bodies are themselves afflicted by the disease they were designed to protect humanity from – obvious contradictions begin to arise that threaten the coherence of the narrative of transcendence outlined above. Among these are the presence of the black scrawl, shades, and magic, things that make sense in a simulated world but not in a biological one, in the events of the game’s prologue. Furthermore, it is heavily implied that the cause of the black scrawl, of humanities impending extinction, is an incompatibility between Gestalt (the human consciousness preserved and implanted) and Replicant (the artificial body and receptacle). This incompatibility stems from the replicant’s own status as a form of intelligent life and manifests in the “devolution” and madness that occurs when two sentient entities, Gestalts and Replicants, are forced together, leading them to become Shades. If this is true, because the black scrawl and shades were already present within the prologue it is implied that the boy and girl from the game’s opening were already not the “original” human beings, but themselves composites of Gestalts and Replicants (or something like them) and thus susceptible to the black scrawl. This casts the events of the game’s prologue as already located in an uncertain cycle wedged between myth and history with its own past that remains inaccessible. While it’s possible to see this prior instance of the black scrawl as a metaphor for something else, the ruined cityscape and unnatural weather seem to suggest the figure of climate change as well as the underlying incompatibility between human and environment as the proto-form or ground for the later Gestalt-Human metaphor, the game is insistent on primarily representing this crisis, i.e. Shades and the Black Scrawl, in a manner that is identical to how it is represented in the game’s present. As such, a return to the game’s beginnings, even with the total knowledge of the game’s conclusion in hand, suggests the mythic structure of eternal recurrence and repetition more than it confirms a possible, but fraught logic of transcendence.

There is always a gap or an abyss that links myth and history and the speculative terms which we may use in the attempt to overcome this gap really also serve to open up further gaps about a deeper history that we still lack access to and to insist on a mythical ahistoricality that asserts its ever-presence. NieR is a game that is acutely aware of this paradox and the many ellipses and instances of logical imprecision that it includes throughout its narrative (beyond the one that I have focused on here the ways that it tells the story of it’s other main characters, notably Emil and his multiple transformations is a good example of another) are most productively understood in this manner. As such, as much as we may feel compelled (myself included) to criticize the game’s narrative by pointing to these details as plot holes or instead, to forgive them as instances where the player is expected to entertain the suspension of disbelief for the purposes of more immediate emotional gratification, I would argue that we do better to see NieR as carefully and compellingly articulating this mess of tangled cables that arises from the attempt to tell stories that can satisfy the timeless desire for enduring truth while simultaneously acknowledging our particular need for immediate logical coherence. They reflect a unique form of cultural desire for a particular sort of story that is able to balance the affordances of myth and history without succumbing to the logic of one or the other.

A more general account of this tendency would emphasize how common the preference for ambiguity is in modern art. This sort of ambiguity, where we’re not quite sure what framework to use to understand how the events in this story relate to each other is common in modern art and seems, most obviously, to reflect an anxiety or insecurity about the efficacy of our established systems for understanding the world around us, telling stories, and making meaning. I do think this makes sense in relation to NieR, since extinction and rebirth are themes that exist around a nexus of great anxiety and that knowledge in the game and the human relationship to it is a specific site of specific anxiety for many of the characters in the game’s narrative. However, more specifically, I would also account for the significance of this desire in the following way: The game wants to tell a sort of mythical story about human extinction and rebirth, but it also wants to say something about its particular medium: the digital game/system. These two strains of desire are connected; something about digital games/systems in particular are connected with myths about extinction and rebirth. Additionally, something about digital games/systems gives them a stronger connection to a mythical worldview than what is typical in other media of modern art. I would argue that this likely has to do with the presence of the player and the role of their behavior in relation to the game/system which is both mythical in scope, repeated across many games and even repeated within a single game (like NieR), while also being particular to each game. Something that I’ve started to see as a recurring theme across several video games, including in Kojima’s Death Stranding, another game about extinction and rebirth, is that human beings are something akin to a different species when they are playing games (”homo-ludens” as they are referred to in that game). Thus, interacting with systems seems to imply something like extinction and rebirth for humanity in the eyes of some of their creators.

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vanityloves · 3 years

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anyways im gonna listen to/read the fuckin...rise of the ogre shit bc ive been putting it off 🪓🥴 im gonna put stuff under the cut bc im gonna be TALKING n dont wanna make a new post everytime

piss

ok he performed for 2 pounds 50. which is basically $3 today i- well it was absolutely a power play on his father behalf that also had the promise of money so.

also lol he said Rejection fueled my ambitions which, yknow,, i already knew but it still hurts and i will continue to talk ab it xoxo

AH HELP. "...if ebay had been invented at the time he would've sold me online there and then,"

"man hands on misery to man, yknow"

THEN PROCEEDS TO CONNECT IT TO MUSIC/HIS CAREER. this man said :) the one thing i truly have a passion for. the one thing i fucking like.

oh yeah. bullied by students AND teachers.

oh god hes 42ish during this interview? ok.

the fuckin school bully saying he wouldve acted differently if he knew what hed become

getting called "faceache", then proceeds to call 2d that. jfc he really does just repeat what everyone says. really "treating others how i was treated/how they treat me"

maybe thats why? hes kinder to fans? bc :] you support me and like me so, ok ill return that energy

MURDOC GETTING HIS ASS BEAT N PARADING HOME LIKE WELL I WON BC 'I PISSED YOU OFF' SJDJD

a real rowdy boy. absolute nasty boy. fraud and arson... shooting ppls windows with his air pistols

black sabbath being a huge inspiration? fucking absolutely.

became a satanist n shit at age 16? "it fitted me like a glove" "heavy metal and devil worshipping became my favorite past times" ajsj funny that ppl in trying times often seek religion or following of some sort

heavy metal being his favorite, n loving the clash, while hannibals was more punk based

hannibal breaking murdocs nose for the 2nd and 3rd time for playing his music on hannibals turntable

he doesnt sound that bitter? ab hannibal? he doesnt sound incredibly fond but he talks ab how he got him into a lot of music. so, i imagine they we're a bit closer than i thought?

international baccalaureate in antisocial? anthropology?

MURDOC IS ACTUALLY SMART HE WAS JUST. NOT INTERESTED IN THE SUBJECTS? I GUESS? (also,,, he literally Built cyborg noodle and i think he had a PhD too lol. but its always nice to hear hes actually...yknow, interested or good at other things)

alright but murdoc having a fascination w/ other cultures - or at least some interests, that lead him to actually study the damn subject and "pass with flying colors"

'fuck college though. im gonna be a rockstar'

he sold his soul at 18ish? whenever the fuck he got kicked out but college was mentioned so my brain goes to 18ish idk

he lived with his father still and paid rent via low paying jobs one including 'part time dressing as santa'

help he was ab to take a Personal Job for quick cash and uhh well, "still made me call him sir though" he really said 20 dollars is 20 dollars, huh "that story was totally true"

alright, 1997,,,

2d stuff

loves zombie stuff? thats really cute, and is freaked out by the way they move. god he rambles

both he and murdoc are horses in the chinese zodiac

[[jfc ok if the official shit compares them a lot i understand why ppl ship them but Dont. its a narrative foil and that doesnt always mean Romance jfc.]]

SUMTHINK.

truly... a lil stinker. super cute bouncing baby and a "bit thick" which is stull so endearing to me. hes just a happy man!

excitable 10 year old and would dance around his room

jfc the fact he has normal/caring parents. i kinda forget how opposite hes supposed to be from murdoc but i think thats another thing jsjsysg (murdoc said why isnt my tragic story making me famous why does he get to be the Star. no wonder he acts like a loon)

i still dont get how gettin bonked by a tree branch made him go bald and also turn his hair blue

big tiddy nurse mommy,,,

went to the same school as The Cure and got decent grades despite hittin the noggin quite hard. WANTED TO BE A STORM CHASER... OMG??

oh thats really cute, hed bond with his dad by building keyboards toegther 🥺💕

messed around with paints and graffiti? artistic king

MURDOC AGAIN: QHDJ 'VILLANOUS' GANG HELP

oh yeah d day...new instruments, new band, new singer - and 'had to be the best or no dice' and absolutely CONFIDENT that his songs were bangers ajsjd

but on that same note, had absolute faith (or desperate) in 2d which i love

ransacked the fucking music shop jdjdj and 2d said he was Just Standing There behind the counter the whole shift hdhdh

"thats when your eye came out, yeah" "yeah!-" HELP WHY DOES HE SOUND SO HAPPY AB IT ?? yes he said ut hurt but he sounds...ok

jfc murdoc ragdolling this poor mf around. dunking him and slapping him around. actually? so incredibly terrible and abusive and i hate him for that 🔫 im sorry 2d stans. we dont condone that behavior here ong.

how and why the FUCK did 2d's parents allow that fucker near their child after that i??? help. wtf. his moms a nurse why didnt she just have murdoc sit in plain view of other people. god damn.

2d flying out the window n hitting the curb "whoops"

"just two black holes...[ah] it looked great...a blue hair, blacked eyed GOD- the girls would go wild-" "pretty boy looks" ???? HELP. HE DOESNT GO LIGHT ON THE COMPLIMENTS, HUH

RUSS TIME

oh yeah, he straight up kiddnapped this man help. idk how he managed that, russ is a Big Man??

AND MURDOCS MUSIC WAS SO FUCKING SEXY GOOD that russel said hm alright ill stay, :] out ifbhis owm free will im screaming.

"oh this is one of them febreeze commercials" "uh . yeah sure. *murdoc turning on his Sick Tunes*" but that either means? it was just his guitar playing the convinced russ? unless he and 2d recorded sumn?

"2d was the looks, murdoc the brains, then russel truly was the heart"

'while 2d and murdoc liked music, this man was a MUSICIAN' god fucking bless this book holy shit ny man russ getting some respect. he said back hurts from carrying this band.

murdoc basically heard this guy had big trauma that gave him So Many Skills n said "thats what i want" ok idk thats actually really? inch rest ting to me. seems that murdocs fine handing out compliments but i guess that where his charisma really helps out yeah?

"he was going to be in my band whether he liked it or not" ...murdoc-

HELP. 2D IS LIKE BRO GO ON IM LISTENING 🥺 despite hearing the story 50-60 times and murdoc said fuck off you lil shit.

ok irrelevant but i love his voice! its super comforting n nice to listen to 🥺

HELP MURDOCS SO BITTER. "NOTHING THAT HAPPENS TO US IS NORMAL" WELL YEAH. THIS IS TRAUMA CENTRAL.

idk how/why he sucked up all his friends souls though ... how are they all possessing the same person. they said "its my turn on The Russ"

DELL IS HIS ACTUAL, LITERAL SOULMATE...KING...😭

went to a private school,,, and was already possessed? and the thing where he gets bigger and smaller is a reoccurring thing?

was in a coma for 4 years?

hiphop machine...time and history...the ultimate set i guess.

his knowledge was infinite and hes a "Renaissance man" hes so fucking smart our king. jack of all trades but a master of drums. he said i know im good and what of it

PAULA.

HELP. HE RMBRS THE STALL: CUBICAL NUMBER 3 🥴 IF I DO RECALL 🤤

yes russel our king. fuck up his nose 5 more times. probably stunted his growth too. he shrunk after russ gave him a wallop im sure

why dies paula sound like tracer overwatch

also only dated 2d for 2 months before joining the band?

HELP SHE REALLY WAS THE FIRST MURDOC FUCKER: "but when i saw murdoc with his thick greasy hair, green teeth and yellow skin i thought 'oh this is the ine for me!'" "OH HES SUCH A DANDY-" HELP ME IM HQJDHD

sick in the head...like i want to hurt people help girl. shes fucking Crazy. but she rly said damn i didnt hear back from him again 😭 and my purse is gone JSHHD

MURDOC: SHE WAS DEPRESSINGLY UGLY *still fucked her*

NOODLE TIME

"small japanese person!"

2d: we werent gorillaz until noodle arrived!

im dying the reason he chose gorillaz. 'swinging through the jungle baring my ass'

noodle really said "im just happy to be here" and she balanced everyone out 😭 "she gave off pure love and the fact that she could laugh at murdoc REALLY helped too" RUSS... IS BABY

JFC MURDOCS SO FUCKING CONFIDENT IN THIS BAND IM LIVING FOR THAT. HE SAID YOU WANT US SO BAD IT MAKES YOU LOOK STUPID. THE CHARISMA

2d rambling ab some girl he met and "ssSs" "whats the s stand for hawhaw" "i dont know!".

THE RECORD LABEL GUY.

one song is all it took i ❤ good for them

just murdoc talking ab the party that they threw for thier deal and saying "you dont know how much of a dick i felt like [when carrying one of those huge checks]" like oh thats whatll make you a dick? alright.

A FOOD FIGHT THAT WENT SO HARD THAT IT KNOCKED 2DS TONSILS OUT? WHAT THE FUCK

ahshdj damon and murdoc not getting along bc of Rival Band One Uppery + damon calling murdocs cuban heels crap since ge wore steel ones with gold spurs.

MURDOC FEELIN EMBARRASSED BC HES 'QUITE PROUD OF HIS SHOES'

but the band and damon getting over music and their ambitions and became a "paternal figure"

HELP MURDOC SAID AWIOGA @ RACHEL WHICH MADE HER THROW HER DRINK IN HIS FACE AND SPLIT FROM 2D. kinda sad actually, she said i still like 2d but murdoc kinda ruined it by trying to get it in with me, it put a strain in our relationship :/ oh god murdocs That Dude

nov 31 1998: started recording :]

40 tracks that got cut down to 15 holy shit

KONG STUDIOS 🤲

hooking up cameras in every room ejdjsu

webby artist of the year in 2006? holy shit

noodle learning ab kong studios omfg

JFC. YES I KNEW KONG WAS BUILT ON/IN A CEMETERY BUT I DIDNT KNOW PPL FOR THE FUCKING PLAGUE WHERE THROWN THERE HDJD

built in 1739?

the ghost of the first owners ghost still roams around in the kitchen in the early hours and moans 'aaa glass of water'

theres some rotting bullshit near the studios and in the summer its fucking TERRIBLE

the former owners were a biker gang, and they all died in a fire

murdoc said this place has bad vibes. i want it.

grim weather

the building feels impossible to escape from huHgg

#rip lol i feel annoying but my blog my rights ig #brainworm ivy #gorillaz rambles

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justlightlysedated · 4 years

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sequel to it’s all fun and games until you sign a legally binding document by @bestillmyslashyheart 🥰💖

The door closes shut behind him and Michael leans back against it briefly, exhaling roughly, eyes closed.

When he opens his eyes, it's to see five faces staring at him with varying degrees of expectation ranging from amused to downright serious.

They obviously want an answer, but what Michael wants is to drink so much he forgets all about the last five minutes, which is coincidentally what got him into this mess in the first place.

He breathes in deeply, takes another look around Isobel's living room, remembers that Isobel's house is now an alcohol/acetone free zone, and exhales all in a rush.

"Turns out we're actually married," he blurts out.

A heavy shocked silence falls across the room and since Michael wants to deal with this even less than he wants to deal with the fact that apparently he's been married for seven years, he turns around and walks right back out of the house.

He's relieved to find that Alex is gone, and walks as fast as he can, without actually running to his truck.

He doesn't manage to make it that far because the only person in his life who gives him the space to run away when he wants to avoid conflict is Alex.

"Guerin!" Maria yells as she runs out after him.

He opens the truck door and it's slammed shut.

He sighs, and turns around to face his girlfriend and the peanut gallery.

Maria is standing closest with Isobel a little further behind, hand dropping with a satisfied smirk of accomplishment on her face.

Rosa and Liz are both standing right on the path that leads to the steps of the balcony, Rosa looking way too eager for what's about to happen, and Kyle leaning back against the open door, his phone in his hand, thumbs moving fast as he types out a message or something.

Maria looks behind them with a small frown, but then turns back to Michael, face set in determination like she's trying to hide what she's feeling.

She takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. "You can't just say that you're married and then run away. You owe me at least an explanation."

Isobel makes a noise in protest, but both Maria and Michael ignore her.

Michael doesn't know what to say, but Maria talks before he can figure out what to tell her.

"You didn't think that this was something I should've known before we started dating?"

"How was I supposed to tell you something that I didn't know myself?"

Maria's brow furrows and she tilts her head at him like she's trying to figure out if he's lying while Isobel makes a highly skeptical noise at the back of her throat, drawing Michael's eyes to her.

"You mean to tell me that that whole thing about a joke was actually true and not code for something else?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

Michael just sighs.

"How can you not know?" Isobel asks, sounding honestly confused. "Getting married isn't something that you do on a whim?"

"It is when you're barely twenty-two and drunk and in Vegas," Michael snarks and leans back against his truck, surrendering to the inevitable inquisition.

Isobel gives him a highly judgemental look, and Michael just rolls his eyes.

"Look, I'm not sure what you want me to say," he tells her, eyes darting to Maria and quickly away to the others before looking back at Isobel.

"I don't remember it happening. We just woke up and thought that it was some sort of joke or trick, something that was funnier while we were drunk than it was in the morning light, and since there was nothing else to suggest that it actually happened, I forgot all about it."

Which had more to do with Michael pushing away every single thought about Alex in the months after their road trip than it had to do with being drunk.

He had had foggy dreams that seemed more like memories than actual dreams of sliding a ring on Alex's finger and signing the paperwork, and making the attempt to carry Alex over the threshold of their hotel room, but he had jotted that down to wish fulfillment than anything that had actually happened.

He can still remember the way his heart had jumped in his chest, and how his thoughts had betrayed him entirely when he had seen the ring on Alex's finger and had found the matching one on his.

"If you didn't know," Maria starts slowly, and Michael jumps, startled out of his thoughts, and turns to look at her.

"Then how did Alex figure it out? Did he know the truth this whole time?" Her voice quivers a little, and Michael exhales roughly wanting to comfort her, but knowing she wouldn't want it.

"No," he says, firmly, because Alex would’ve told him if he knew before. Michael is sure of that. "He didn't know either. It's public record. So once the Air Force caught wind of it they apparently added it into Alex's paperwork because it's protocol."

She nods her head slowly, looking away from Michael briefly and swallowing hard.

"Okay," she says, looking back at him, and takes a step closer to him, a small smile on her lips. "So all you need to do is get the marriage annulled and this will all just be another thing that stays in the past."

"What happens in Vegas and all that," Rosa pipes up, and there is a smattering of laughter from everyone else, but Michael feels like it's hard to breathe all of a sudden.

He's barely come to terms with the fact that he's married, and not just married, but married to Alex, who Michael has to avoid spending time alone with because it makes him feel things that he shouldn't, especially not when he's in a relationship with someone else.

He's not remotely ready to come to terms with the fact that being married means he'll have to get a divorce.

"What's the difference between a divorce and an annulment anyway?" Rosa asks, dragging Michael out of his thoughts. "Aren't they the same thing?"

"No," Isobel is the one to answer and there is an odd tone to her voice. "A divorce ends a legally valid marriage. An annulment basically states that the marriage wasn't valid to begin with. One means a strike on your record. The other wipes the slate clean."

"I know you're against anything that has to do with Noah, but would you be willing to-" Maria starts, turning to Isobel.

"Get you the paperwork necessary to file the annulment?" Isobel asks, finishing her question. "Easily, but there is one problem, both parties have to go on the record stating the reason that the marriage isn't valid-"

Maria exhales roughly.

"Okay, so Michael will talk to Alex and-"

"Michael is not going to do anything," Michael snaps, finally getting fed up with the way they all seem to be speeding straight away with a decision that he hasn't even made.

Everyone turns back to him, but Michael only has eyes for Maria, who is looking at him with a confused expression.

"Don't you want to get it annulled?" Maria asks, brow furrowing even more, when Michael hesitates to answer.

"I just, I need to think about it," he says, and she flinches, taking a step back right into Isobel.

"What's there to think about?" Maria asks, "Don't you want us to be together?"

"Of course," Michael says immediately taking a step forward, but stopping when Maria raises a hand in his direction.

"Then what is there to think about?"

Michael swallows hard and looks away, but he can't seem to make the words that Maria wants to hear come out of his mouth.

"I need to talk to Alex first," he says turning to look back at her.

She stares at him for a long moment before she stands up straight, pulling away from Isobel and giving him a look.

"Okay, fine, talk to Alex, figure out what you're going to do, but we're done until you show me that you signed your name on the paperwork, do you understand me?"

Her voice shakes, and there are tears making her eyes shine bright, but she looks at him with an impassive expression and Michael knows an ultimatum when he hears one.

And he also knows that she's hoping that he will tell her that he'll sign the papers right now, but he can't give that to her, not until he talks to Alex.

Michael just nods his head sharply, "I understand."

Maria sighs, a disbelieving breath and then turns around and heads back inside, followed by Liz and Rosa, but not Kyle who was already back inside or Isobel who stands there and looks at Michael intently.

"This isn't going to be like the time that you told me that you love Alex and then turned around and started dating his best friend, right?"

Michael exhales roughly looking at Isobel with exasperation.

"No it's not," he says firmly. "I wasn't exactly thinking clearly last time."

Isobel gives him a surprised look at that. "I knew that, but I was positive that you hadn't gotten there yet, seeing as you're still trying to date Maria."

Michael just shakes his head. "That's not what I meant."

Isobel just rolls her eyes at him, turning to head back inside. "Just make sure to talk to Maria before you decide to renew your vows."

Michael just rolls his eyes again and waits until she closes the door to get into his truck.

What he needs is to drink enough whiskey laced acetone to forget about the entire afternoon, and then once he's woken up from his drunken coma he'll talk to Alex.

With that plan in mind, Michael gets into his truck and drives home.

#written because marlo is an INSPIRATION and i adore her 💖#also secretly married fics are my weakness #marlocollabs2k20

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johannstutt413 · 4 years

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“I’m so close.” Leizi was staring at a small pile of papers at the desk in her room. Looming over her was a projection of the information she’d recovered at the Judicial Office, casting enough light for her to see without using her power or the ship’s. “I know she was involved, but any and all evidence of her involvement was scoured from the investigation records...There’s only one person on this ship who might know the truth-”

Knock knock. “Leizi? Do you have a minute?”

“...His timing is uncanny.” She shut off her projector, sparked the lights on at a dimmer-than-average-level, and went to answer the door.

“Good evening.” The Doctor, in more casual attire than she’d ever seen him in, was standing in the doorway, a bag of Lungmen takeout in his hand. “I wasn't sure if you’d eaten yet, but I haven’t, so I ordered enough for both of us just in case. Can I come in?”

Leizi nodded, her curiosity piqued. “Certainly. I was hoping to talk to you, as well.”

“Oh? That’s convenient.” He set the bag on a counter in her kitchenette and began unpacking.

“Yes. Regarding my purpose here.” For a moment the Doctor froze, but she continued talking nonetheless. “I’m conducting an investigation into a rather serious crime, and I hoped you might have some information for me.”

He thought to himself if she’d been informed of his amnesia, realized she probably hadn’t, and nodded to himself. “I’ll tell you what I can, but it might not be very much.”

“Any help you can provide will be appreciated. How long have you known Blaze?”

“Blaze?” He remembered hearing two years in the archive files somewhere, so he went with that. “She joined Rhodes Island roughly two years ago, from what I remember.”

Her eyes began sparking. “Fascinating. Do you know her birthday, or where she was born?”

“Hmm...I can’t disclose when she was born, but I remember her saying she was born in Victoria.”

“Her saying she was born there?” Leizi’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t know for certain?”

The Doctor sighed. “We limit our investigations to absolutely crucial information, and since Blaze has proven herself fully committed to Rhodes Island’s causes, to the point we made her an Elite Operator, we didn’t pursue the matter any further.”

“I see...Hmm.”

“If I may.” He brought her a container and a set of chopsticks. “Can you tell me why you need this information? I know for an investigation, as you’ve already said as much, but what sort of crime is she complicit in?”

Her eyes searched his for any element of duplicity. “I’m not certain I can disclose that to you.”

“Then, unfortunately, there’s not a great deal more I can do for you in this regard; even I do not have full access to her records.”

“Pardon?” She opened her container, immediately recognizing her favorite order but saying nothing about it. This was more important. “Are you not one of the leaders of Rhodes Island?”

He shook his head. “It’s not quite that simple...Do you remember our first meeting after your arrival here, in my office, where I asked where we had met and you were rather offended?”

“Yes, quite well.” Leizi dug into the takeout, and the Doctor followed suit.

“What I’m about to tell you is widely known around Rhodes Island,” he continued, “but I only recently returned to my post after acquiring an extreme case of post-traumatic amnesia.”

Her chopsticks fell out of her hand. “They allow an amnesiac to lead their combat operations?”

“My battle instincts certainly haven’t declined, if that concerns you.”

“No, that’s not the primary issue.” She looked at him. “Rhodes Island is primarily a private pharmaceutical company, and yet they have a dedicated general deemed so critical to operations that they set him back in his post immediately after he recovers to a functioning degree from a serious injury?”

The Doctor shrugged. “I woke up from my coma to Amiya’s face and have been with them since-”

“You were in a coma?! And I heard Reunion’s practices were strange...”

“Please don’t compare Rhodes Island and Reunion.” His eyes narrowed. “I know we both deal with the welfare of the Infected, but our methods and theirs differ substantially.”

Leizi sighed. “My apologies - I may not agree with the ideals you hold, but trampling over them in such a way is unnecessary on my part...May I ask you something more personal, then?”

“Of course, if I may do the same.”

“Hmm...Very well.” She looked away from the empty container to his face. “Did you know this was my favorite meal, from my favorite restaurant in Lungmen?”

He nodded. “I’ve taken out the trash from your room before, when our custodians were understaffed.”

“...What?”

“I help out whoever I can, whenever I’m needed.” The Doctor smiled. “My abilities aren’t in constant demand, so in order to earn my keep, I help however I can, from the most menial tasks to the most sophisticated my limited memory allows for.”

She held a hand to her head. “So many layers, but I suppose if I’m to live here...What is it you wanted to ask me?”

“Are you in exile, Leizi?”

“...In a fashion, yes.” No use denying that. “I have an ornamental position in the Judicial Office, but after the death of my- after the crime I’m conducting the investigation for, and the subsequent first investigation that was never truly solved but instead given an erroneous conclusion, I was held in contempt. They allow me to wear the badge of the Yen government, but they refuse to pay me or allow them to access their records any further.”

He nodded. “That explains your presence here, then - you’re investigating a resident of Rhodes Island, and you need a home yourself.”

“Yes...I would say more, but I’m afraid that for all your candidness with me, I’m still unsure of your motives.”

“My motives?” The Doctor shrugged. “In all honesty, regardless of what my peers and superiors believe, I held that you were no danger to Rhodes Island beyond anything but your status as a Yen official, and so I felt you were trustworthy as well as any of our Operators with sordid histories. I’m glad to see I was right, and I would like to continue pursuing a relationship between us.”

Leizi...couldn’t have heard him correctly. “You want to pursue a relationship? With me?”

“Nothing necessarily romantic, if you have other interested parties, but I want to understand you better, and the same in return.”

“...I still remember first seeing you in Lungmen.” Her voice was shaking slightly as her hair began to rise of its own electromagnetic accord. “The way you carried yourself, the voice which carried even to where I stood filled with poise but with a savagery underlying it...It’s rather discordant to see you like this now, but perhaps if I had seen your face before, I might have seen the same kindness then I do now.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “According to many who knew me then, I’ve changed a great deal since regaining my faculties. It’s supposedly a common problem for amnesiacs, but the more I hear, the more I feel it is less a problem and more a second chance to do better by those who’ve placed their lives and their hopes in my hands.”

“...I’ll need to speak with a tailor about a new set of attire. One that doesn’t affiliate me with Yen.”

“I can arrange for that.” The Doctor finally finished his meal and set his container aside. “May I ask why?”

Her eyes audibly crackled. “Ask me whatever you like, Doctor. I...while I cannot commit myself to Rhodes Island and its aims, I...I believe I can commit myself to you. I-if that sounds good to you, of course.”

“I would very much like that, Leizi.” He extended a hand to her, and she took it...which elicited a shock.

“Sorry.” She blushed. “At times, I build up static rather quickly.”

The Doctor simply squeezed her hand. “That’s alright. We’ll always be able to say that sparks flew between us the night I first kissed you.”

“I suppose we will.” So saying, she stood up, stepped around the table, and made it so.

#arknights #leizi (arknights)#she's probably not gonna be that popular all things considered #she might be a spy #she's not very good in-game because her kit is unique but not terribly useful #and if you really want blonde waifus there are no shortage in AK already #but...there's something about her #anyone else feel that?#the charge in the air?#that's no storm; that's chemistry #arknights fic

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