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robotstrategy · 1 month

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Recalled • Part 6 • 43 - Nero

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It’s a Friday afternoon as Nero runs up the stairs of an apartment building fumbling around with keys.

“You’re still promising me the Master right?” Roland shouts as he runs after her.

Nero laughs. “Of course, why the hell would I give you the shitty room if you’re already in a shitty situation?”

Both of them reach the third level and head down the hallway to the second last room. Nero unlocks the door, holding it open for Roland as he drags his things inside. Nero finds it funny how someone could have so many things, then again the majority of her life has been in a ward; where the one form of possession is dibsing something.

Once Roland is done Nero closes the door and finally gets a good look at the apartment.

“Wow, it’s so empty…” she says.

Roland laughs, setting down a vase of forget-me-nots and baby’s breath on the table. “Well yeah, we’re going to fill up that space.”

Nero watches Roland sit down at the table, preening and admiring the bouquet. Roland turns back to Nero, “He got me these flowers as a going away present, dramatic isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he tried bouncing the idea off of me, I just told him to not get you hibiscus flowers.”

Roland giggles at that comment. “That would be a pretty bad idea.”

Nero checks the rooms as Roland stares out the window, it seems like the one to the right is bigger.

“The right room is yours, it’s bigger.” She tells him.

“Ok.” He mumbles absentmindedly.

Nero sighs, Roland is still looking at the flowers.

“I thought you wanted to move in as fast as possible?” She nagged.

“I know, but I just want to live in the moment, I’m happy right now.”

“Really? I just think you’re love stuck?”

“Maybe that too,” He looks up at her. “He’s been more handsy with me lately, giving me hickeys ‘n’ shit.”

Nero is disgusted, “Ew, gross, don’t tell me about that stuff.”

Roland frowns. “You don’t like him do you?”

Nero goes over to him and places a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t dislike him, I’m worried about you. I’ve seen you cry so many times, and I’m worried that you’ll be crying again soon.”

“Uh-huh, it’s just that he told me on Wednesday that you hated him.”

Nero starts to be suspicious about Trevor, yet she shakes it off as just being a miscommunication. “No, of course, I don’t, I’m just worried about you.”

Roland snaps at her. “You don’t worry about me! I’m fine! I’m happy!”

“You don’t sound happy,” Nero mutters, she goes into the smaller room and drops off a few things. Knick knacks, sheets for the bed, and whatnot. When she comes out of the room Roland looks worried and teary-eyed.

“Hey, don’t worry about me, I don’t get hurt so easily by random snaps.” She tells him.

Roland wipes his eyes. “No, it’s not that, it’s Trevor.”

Nero comes over to his side. “What about him?”

Roland waves her off. “It’s nothing.”

“Roland, if he’s hurting you I need to know, someone needs to know.”

“He’s not hurting me, I’m hurting myself.”

“Hurting yourself?” She questions.

“I think we’re going too fast, but I love all the attention. I’d try to tell him, but every time he touches or kisses me it feels so good.” He gasps, looking over at her. “I’m not making you uncomfortable am I?”

Nero shakes her head, then tilts it a little. “Maybe a little, it’s alright to think you’re going too fast. It’s like how Carter says to take it easy on certain gym equipment.”

“Then, do you think I’m going too fast?”

“I mean, some people take it really slow, and others like one-night stands, it’s up to you to decide what you want.”

“I, I think I’m going to tell him I want to take things slower, I don’t want to seem like an attention whore.”

Nero goes to grab a moving box from the entryway. “An attention whore? Who’s calling you that?”

“Trevor is.”

Nero cringes. “And do you like when he calls you that?”

“Sorta.”

“Well my advice for you, get a better pet name.”

“Yeah,” Roland mumbles, he goes over to help Nero move the boxes. “How come you’re always so put together, you never give a damn about anything thrown your way.”

Nero unexpectedly drops the box in her hands, letting out an audible sniff.

Thursday evening Nero sits with Ian in the cafeteria. Nero’s intention of coming here was to see Sam again, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Nero looks over to the table Tonya and her clique sit at. “Sorry, I’m stopping you from sitting with them,” Nero says.

“It’s fine, they’ve been acting cold to us anyway.”

“How come?”

“Tonya was nagging about what you said to her the other day, and I told her that she deserved to hear that.”

Nero looks down at the chilli she swirls her spoon in, she’s never been a fan of chilli. “Did Sam say anything?”

“He agreed with me, but he thought I was too harsh.”

“Mmm, so much for the guy we deemed as Mrs. Norbury.”

Ian leans his head into his hand. “I think he’s talking to Cam right now, he’s been thinking about what he’ll be doing during summer.”

“Doesn’t he already do social media work?”

“Yeah but he’s still a teenager, he does schooling, in the summer he won’t have that.”

“Ah, right,” Nero looks up. “Do you think he’d be interested in doing volunteer work with me?”

“I don’t think he would.”

“Darn.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Nero sees Sam coming towards them with a food portion.

“Did I miss anything?”

“No, where were you?” Nero interrogates him.

“Oh, Nero I didn’t see you, I was just talking to Cam about going to Molokai in the summer.”

‘Molokai? MOLOKAI?! I was almost sent there for self-defence, and now you want to go there for shits and giggles.’ Nero thinks Sam seems to read her face.

“It’s only for a month at the end of the summer, I’ll send you goodnight messages every night if you want that.” He now holds her hands.

“I, I’d like that,” She clears her throat, “I better get going, actually.” She starts walking out of the cafeteria.

“But I just sat down!” Sam yells at her, but Nero doesn’t respond.

Nero goes into the bathroom, she stares at herself in the mirror, she can’t cry, she cannot cry. She can’t believe Sam is going away to Molokai, a full 14 hours away from here; and she’s going to have to sit through so many months dreading it until it happens. How could Sam do this to her, what’s she done to deserve this? Nothing really, but it’s not even Sam’s fault, it’s not something that’s even a punishment. Why is Nero so upset about this? For god’s sake, she was a bœuf, this is something a kid cries about. Nero feels her throat tighten up as tears well in her eyes. She can’t do it, she can’t cry, she takes a big sniff trying to keep it down.

She cries.

“Nero?” Roland calls out to her, she looks over at him, the tears on her cheeks are drying her cheeks out.

“Nero, what’s wrong?” He asks.

Nero starts ugly crying as Roland goes over to hug her. “Sam is going away to Molokai at the end of summer for a whole month!” She whales. “I don’t even know why I care so much, I hardly see him anymore!”

Roland pats her. “Maybe that’s why you care so much,” He pulls her away from him, looking her in the eyes. “Oh, uh, wow, you look gross.”

She sniffs, “Thanks asshole.”

“Sorry, I meant to say that, when I was on the run I thought a lot about Lilian, and how I’d never see her again,” He smiles. “But now I have, so it’s okay, I know how you feel.”

“I-I’ll see him at the end of summer.” She stuttered.

“Damn right, you will!”

Nero sniffs again, “I feel better now, getting that out.”

“And you got it out in a good way.”

She gives him a weird look. “There’s a bad way to let out misery?”

“Yeah, I’d know.” He mutters.

Nero gives him a funny look before continuing to unpack with him. She’s aware something bad happened, yet she’s not sure what exactly it is yet.

#unwind #unwind dystology #unwind fanfic #unwind series #sequel fic #roland taggart #unwind oc #cam comprix

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lei-lei-artz · 2 months

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Sketches of Cam, Starkey, Argent and Nelson

#camus comprix #mason starkey #argent skinner #j.t nelson #unwind dystology #unwind #I really like the way cam and argent turned out #frick starkey!!#artists on tumblr

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dragonsdendoodles · 7 months

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Long time no Unwind

#unwind #unwind dystology #camus comprix #i dunno i just felt like a grumpy cam sketch was in order #i really like cam #dragon’s doodles

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traumatized-blondes · 1 year

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TRAUMATIZED BLONDES ROUND 2!

Round 1 is over!

Winners: TK, Roxas, Luke, Cam, Jason, Magnus, Pacifica, Hunter, Klavier, Hawks, Kaminari, Adrien, Chloe, Sasha, Lillie, Link

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heliads · 4 months

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Can I request an unwind fic where Connor is the one who gets taken from the Graveyard by Roberta (for propaganda reasons not because Cam likes him) and Rise goes and saves him? I feel like we need more powerful Risa fics! She is badass!

'made it back to you' - connor lassiter x risa ward

masterlist

They had thought it would be smart to take Connor.

That’s what he’s been able to gather, at least. The Proactive Citizenry was willing to incur the risk of abducting one (1) unwind for Propaganda Purposes, and they figured they might as well shoot for the moon and chose Connor Lassiter, Akron AWOL, resident voicebox of a surprisingly large percentage of the unwind community. On paper, it was a brilliant idea.

Connor, however, is not quite the boy people think he is. He doesn’t really like cooperating, especially not with people who’ve kidnapped him from the only home that was willing to accept him as an enemy of the unwinding state. Really, the PC should have figured that out from day one.

Instead, they’re continually learning that lesson with each hour that passes. They gave him a nice room with lovely locked doors and impeccably sealed windows. He’s kept in relative comfort, albeit far beyond the reach of anyone and everyone who could possibly help him. And, to make matters worse, they’re insisting that Connor will film propaganda videos insisting that unwinding is done for the right reasons.

Bullshit. Obviously, he’s not going to do this. The first time Roberta Griswold appeared in Connor’s lux jail cell and asked him to recite a few lines for media purposes, he laughed in her face and told her there wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d actually do it. Roberta had the nerve to act surprised, like she genuinely couldn’t fathom why Connor wouldn’t be in favor of stripping teenagers for parts.

She’d tried to reason with him a little, but sorry, no amount of carefully prepared logical fallacies will make up for the fact that unwinding is a terrible thing to do. Connor’s not falling for it. He’s already had plenty of time to debate everything under the sun about unwinding with Hayden and Lev at various times in his life, so Connor is actually quite well prepared for Roberta’s line of reasoning. Who knew that kidnapping a tithe would come in handy?

Roberta was persistent, though. Day after day, she kept coming in, waving that stupid little form he’s supposed to sign to agree to the PC’s demands. Connor had tried to be civil, knowing that any slip up would of course be televised to show how crazy and violent unwinds can be, but after a week he got sick of it and launched a pillow at her head.

He’d been on lockdown after that. No visits, not even doctors, not even Roberta. Clearly, they’re trying to shame him for the loss of control, but honestly, it had felt really good to watch the mass of fabric and feathers collide dully with Roberta’s bleached-blonde skull. When Connor dreams of paradise, it involves soft projectiles thrown at hard-headed sadists.

Connor hadn’t anticipated the Punishment, though. He’d expected consequences ranging anywhere from nameless threats to medieval-type shit like iron maidens (not the band) or thumb screws. Connor doesn’t even know what the hell a thumb screw is. It sounds painful, though, and involves body parts, so honestly it seems pretty well up the Proactive Citizenry’s alley.

Instead of getting beaten around, however, they did him one worse: they sent in the freak. Camus Comprix. Christ. Connor’s seen the guy around, he lurks in hallways like he’s not ever sure of where to go or what to go. His posture vaguely reminds Connor of kids getting their portraits taken during school picture days. Like Cam has been forced into a starched-stiff shirt and told to straighten up a little, put his shoulders back– no, a little more, a little more, now tilt your head to the side slightly– and he’s spending all of his waking hours waiting around for the camera to click.

It’s weird as hell, is what it is, and now Connor has to deal with it. Honestly, he’s not sure if Cam’s sudden presence in Connor’s quarters is meant to be difficult for Connor or Cam, or maybe both. Killing two birds in one stone, you get to shame both your lab-grown boy and the unpleasant one you kidnapped in one go. If Connor ever gets out of here and takes up a position with the FBI, he’d suggest this as a certified interrogation method. Simply take your uncooperative prisoner and lock them in a room with a rewind who thinks he’s witty. You’ll have your answers in no time.

They both hate each other’s guts, that much is certain. Apparently, Cam had been angling to get Risa in here instead, suggesting that she’d be far easier to work with than Connor. He’s got to assume that the PC is wishing they’d followed Cam’s guidance instead. As it turns out, Connor also wants Risa. That’s one thing they’ve got in common, at least.

It’ll be the only thing. Cam visits Connor in scheduled one-hour visits, such as right now. The lock on Connor’s door clicks open, revealing the sullen myriad of expressions on Camus Comprix’s many segments of face.

“Why, Cam,” Connor says flatly. “It’s such an honor to be in your presence. I didn’t expect the pleasure of your company today.”

Cam fixes him with a stormy glare. “Ridiculous. Hogwash. Balderdash.”

Connor can’t help a pleased smirk. “What, you don’t think that your company is a pleasure? You should really work on positive self talk, Comprix. Surely one of the voices in your head has an ego.”

Cam looks like he wants to spit on Connor’s shoes. “I am the only one in my head, and I think that you’re insufferable. Also, that you knew I was coming. I arrive here every day. It’s a routine. Typical. Humdrum.”

“Sarcasm, my friend,” Connor smiles. “They can’t plug that into you in a lab, I guess.”

Cam’s face sours even more than usual. “You can try to convince yourself that you’re nothing like me, but it won’t work. We are the same.”

Connor should know better, but he falls for the taunt anyway. “We’re nothing alike. You’re a lab rat, I’m a real boy.”

Cam arches a brow. “Completely? I can't help but notice that one of your arms doesn’t match the other.”

Instinctively, Connor thrusts his right arm behind his back and out of view. He doesn’t have to look to remember the shark tattoo swimming ominously across the forearm that doesn’t belong to him. Connor didn’t ask for an unwind’s arm after his own was lost in the explosion of the Happy Jack Chop Shop, and he especially didn’t ask for the replacement to come from Roland, one of his all-time rivals. However, he fears that Cam might have plenty of good responses to Connor declaring that he didn’t ask for unwind parts.

Instead, he just glares at the rewind. “That’s only one part of me that I hate. You’re full of pieces that aren’t yours.”

Cam just shrugs, taking a seat on one of Connor’s chairs. Connor feels as if the tide of the argument has switched over from Connor’s side to Cam’s, but he doesn’t know how to get it back. “Say what you want to make yourself feel better,” Cam tells him, “We all know the truth. Who knows, maybe the doctors put a bit more realism in me than you.”

“Shut up,” Connor hisses. “Or I’ll hit you like I did Roberta.”

Cam perks up even despite the threat. “You hit Roberta?”

“With a pillow,” Connor amends. “Maybe I’ll hit you with a brick.”

So much for fighting the ‘violent AWOL’ accusations. Connor’s already reverting back to old-school threats and intimidation tactics. However, seeing as he’s essentially a prisoner, even in a far nicer cell than a juvenile detention facility, Connor feels that it’s his hard-earned right to mouth off a little.

Cam just rolls his eyes. “Then they might actually kill you off. Goodness knows they want to.”

Connor grins, proud of himself. “Excellent to know that I haven’t lost my natural sense of charm yet. It’s not a hostage situation unless my captors get sick of me within a few weeks.”

Cam frowns. “I’m not sure that’s something you should enjoy.”

“And what,” Connor drawls, “This is? Collaborating with the enemy? No thanks.”

Cam looks as if he’d quite like to debate the intricacies of just what ‘the enemy’ could be, but they’re interrupted by the door of Connor’s cell being flung open. In walks Roberta, looking slightly more frazzled than Connor is used to seeing her. Strands of her blonde hair are starting to escape from their usual tight knot, and she’s not even bothering to hide her derisive stare with a pleasant grin, which indicates to Connor that he’s probably outstayed his welcome. Not, of course, that he was ever really welcome at all, but this isn’t a good sign.

Connor refuses to handle this appropriately, opting instead to goad Roberta even further. “But, Doc, I’m supposed to have at least half an hour more with my best buddy over here. You can’t split us up, I can hardly bear the separation.”

This earns him matching glares from both Cam and Roberta. Connor can’t help but wonder if the doctors in charge of rewinding programmed that particular expression into Cam, too, having so much experience receiving it from Roberta.

“Enough,” Roberta says, her voice clipped. “This is a waste. We had hoped you would cooperate on your own, but if you won’t, we’ll turn to other measures. Just remember that we didn’t want to do this. You forced our hand.”

Connor leans back a little. “Wait, what are you talking about?” Maybe he wasn’t wrong to include medieval torture among the housewarming gifts offered up by the PC.

Roberta says nothing, just steps away from the door. Three guards come in, all in military fatigues, and drag Connor to his feet. He’s forced out of the room and down the surrounding corridors. Just before he clears the threshold of his room, he can hear Cam’s voice raised slightly, asking Roberta what’s going on. Roberta, in turn, seems much kinder when speaking to Cam, her voice lilting and gentle like she’s lecturing a pet rabbit or dog. Must be nice to be someone’s pet project. The forced responsibility of someone having to take care of you is more than Connor’s had in a while.

Connor is rudely accompanied to a room down a few halls. He recognizes this place, more so the dozen or so cameras and lights that have been set up facing a chair in the center of the room. Connor is shoved down into this seat, with one guard on each side and behind him, keeping him in place.

Roberta shows up moments later, closing the door with an audible shove. “No more games,” she says directly. “We know where the Graveyard is. We have planes with advanced military capabilities. We will bomb that place to a ruin unless you film the interviews we want.”

Connor rears back. “What the hell?”

Roberta, seemingly anticipating this response, holds up a laptop screen in front of him. On it, Connor watches, horrified, as surveillance footage plays of the Graveyard. It’s shot from a shaky, hazy camera, maybe a drone or something. Connor’s first, desperate hope is that it’s old footage, or staged, but then he sees Risa’s wheelchair roll underneath the shade of a parked plane to talk to someone. Hayden, maybe. Or any number of their friends. Her hair is slightly longer than the last time he’s seen her. Yes, this is recent. Recent enough for this threat to have value.

“You can’t do this,” Connor says stupidly. Of course she can. They’re the fucking PC, and they can do anything from tearing teenagers to ribbons to bombing supposedly abandoned airplane hangars. This is all within her control.

“We didn’t want to,” Roberta says snippily. “It will be a waste of resources and a PR nightmare. However, we need your testimony more. Cooperate and they live. It’s as simple as that.”

This, of course, is a lie. Nothing about this is simple. If Connor does what she asks, he’ll be selling out all his friends. They have no idea that they’re being watched, nor that their lives are on the line. All they’ll know is that the supposedly great Akron AWOL turned them all in for a good night’s sleep and some new clothes. They’ll hate him forever, and they’ll never know that he was just doing it to save them.

“You’ll bomb them anyway, no matter what I do,” Connor forces out. “Even if I film the videos. You’d never let a loose end like that sit. They’ll die anyway, and so will I.”

“They won’t,” Roberta pledges. “We’re the sane ones, Connor. We keep our word. If you sign the contract, we won’t touch them. You can even go back to the Graveyard if you want, although I have a feeling that you won’t get as warm a welcome as you might like. All you have to do is talk.”

“I’ll be lying. Everyone will know it.” Connor says. It’s the last defense he has. All of his arguments are slipping away in the face of this vast and indescribable horror. They’d probably show him the bombing, too, make him watch live as all of his friends are consumed by the explosions. Risa. He’d watch Risa die. Connor hates himself more than anything for even thinking about agreeing to do this, but losing everyone just like that would cut a deeper wound than he’s ever experienced.

Roberta just smiles, kind and sincere. This is probably the look she gives Cam when he argues with her about having to spend time with Connor. “No, they won’t. You’ll make sure they believe it.”

Wordlessly, she offers Connor a pen and the contract. The guards let go of Connor’s arms. They don’t even have to be in the room anymore. Nothing matters, because Connor can’t do a single damn thing so long as they’ve got the Graveyard. Hell, they don’t even have to lock the doors. Connor will jail himself until the day he dies, just to keep them alive.

He signs. Roberta smiles. “See, that wasn’t too tricky, was it? All you have to do is find a way to see eye to eye.”

He meets her gaze hatefully. Connor had thought that he couldn’t hate anyone more than Roland, more than the Juvey-cops who tried to bring him in, but this raw madness in the back of his throat is far, far worse. He wants to rip her to pieces. He wants to– he wants to unwind her.

Connor appears on the news that night. He is smiling and dressed in a new suit. It fits him perfectly. The news reporter asks him about being the Akron AWOL, and if he has any advice for teenagers grappling with the possibility of being unwound. Connor looks directly into the camera and tells these unknown kids to just go along with it. Everything happens for a reason, he says. Unwinding is better than you think. I wish I could be unwound right now.

Only the last part is true.

Roberta chides him about that afterwards. No need to go overboard, she says. Still, she’s pleased, and why shouldn’t she be? The nation’s hottest topic, the most dangerous unwind, is in her pocket. At last, she’s found the way to pull Connor’s strings to perfection. As it turns out, the only thing she had to do was threaten to bomb a couple hundred children. Easy for someone without a heart.

Connor makes more videos. He despises himself more thoroughly than he ever has before. He wonders if Risa is out there somewhere, watching them all, wondering what became of him. He wonders if she hates him too now, if every single kid sees his broadcasts and curses his name. Connor understands at last why the PC wanted him. If you lose faith in your hero, you lose faith in the cause. Connor is nobody’s hero, not anymore. He is a traitor and a coward, and worst of all, he still thinks that the Graveyard will be bombed when the PC tires of him and puts him to rest.

The agony builds in his stomach as the weeks go by. Roberta has been briefing him ceaselessly in preparation for an upcoming news report. It’s quite likely the biggest deal of all of the videos so far, on one of the most popular news sources. It will be live, so Connor cannot afford a single slipup. She’s already reminded him several times of the consequences should Connor disobey. He knows.

He knows.

Connor arrives at the news show headquarters an hour in advance. He shakes the hands of several important journalists and celebrities, and they all nod their heads and say wow, he’s so well behaved for someone who once was a criminal. Connor wants to ask what his crime was, other than living, but Roberta is staring daggers into his back so Connor knows not to screw up before his big performance. He’s pretty used to ignoring hateful glares by now, anyway. Now that Connor’s the new big thing, Cam has somewhat faded out of the limelight. They still see each other, but the mandatory visits aren’t really enforced anymore. Instead, Connor gets to sit with his thoughts, which is both better and far, far worse.

The interview begins. When Connor walks onto the stage, he gets a round of applause that lasts two full minutes. He wants to scream at the audience to shut up– nothing he’s doing here is worth that sort of appreciation. News flash: selling your soul isn’t supposed to be a good thing.

He doesn’t say this. He follows the script. The interview takes twenty minutes, and at the end, the host flashes him a smile of perfectly straight, white teeth and asks if he’s got anything else to add. Connor stares at the jaws, wonders if they belonged to someone else first, and says, “Yes, I do.”

Connor looks directly at the camera. “When I first found out I was going to be unwound, I was terrified. I thought it was the end for me. I even ran away.”

He pauses a bit, to let the audience react appropriately. Ripples of shaking heads and disappointed glance rock through the crowds. Once they settle down, Connor continues. “I met up with bigger crowds of AWOLs who all thought the same thing. We were trying to escape our natural fates, and if I could say one thing to them right now, I would tell them–”

His voice cuts off. Connor feels like he’s choking up, only no tears are coming out. Instead, he feels more composed than he has in months. “I would tell them that they were right,” he declares. “They were right to want to live. We’re just kids, and we don’t deserve to die because our parents don’t like us. All unwinds deserve to live. I hope they keep running and they never get caught, even if I was.”

Roberta is standing up, marching towards him through the shocked and upset crowd. Her eyes spell danger, but Connor keeps on going recklessly. “They’re going to bomb the Graveyard, Risa. They’re going to kill you all. You have to get everyone to safety. I’ve been trying to buy you time, but it’s no use. They know where you are. Get everyone out. Fight unwinding until you die. All of us are free.”

Hands clamp down on Connor’s shoulders. He fights his way out of the grip at once, but more guards are appearing from the wings, muscling him away. Still, Connor shouts at the camera, telling everyone he can to run and never look back. It takes several minutes to get him away, and he hopes to everything holy that it was enough time to evacuate the Graveyard.

He’s locked into a dressing room backstage. Roberta bursts in moments later. She looks completely furious. “You stupid boy. You stupid, stupid boy. Do you know what you’ve done?”

“Exactly what I wanted to,” Connor grins. “I took a stand.”

“No, you’ve killed your friends,” Roberta hisses. She whips out her phone and calls somebody, looking Connor directly in the eyes while she tells them to carry out the strike.

Roberta hangs up victoriously, but Connor refuses to be cowed. “I hope you’re happy,” Roberta tells him. “They’re all dead because of you.”

“It’s not just about the Graveyard,” he says. “That’s been under threat for years. We were always going to die. But unwinds across the country will know that they still have hope, and that’s worth it to me. Try explaining that to your investors.”

Roberta’s face turns a mottled purple. “Clearly, we have no more use for you. You may not be able to be unwound, but that doesn’t mean you get to leave. I’ll have you in a cell until you rot.”

Connor’s past the point of caring about himself, though. “I’ll look forward to getting a break from your sermons, then.”

She might kill him here and now, honestly. It takes all of Roberta’s self-control to direct the guards to take Connor away and back to the PC facility. He’s shoved into his room, the door locked behind him. This might be the end of it for him, but Connor’s conscience feels lighter than it has in a very long time. If he dies here, at least it’ll be knowing that his friends believe in him again. Hopefully.

It occurs to Connor, a few hours into his new exile in the old room, that maybe he hadn’t given Risa and the others enough to get clear of the Graveyard after all. He’d known that he would have to tell them eventually, and a broadcast as popular as this was his best shot, but the Graveyard is big and unwinds are obstinate. Maybe there were still some kids inside when the bombing was ordered. Maybe he hadn’t done enough. Maybe Risa had died anyway.

The thought tears up Connor. He feels as if he’s swallowed acid or something, like his organs are physically ripping to pieces underneath his skin, worn away like time and rain against the Grand Canyon. Connor is a thousand empty hollows, and they can only be filled by the simple knowledge that the people he cares about are okay.

Time passes. It could be hours or days, Connor can’t really tell. The grief and guilt takes him out of reality. Connor swears he can hear sounds down the hall, but it could be anything from an overly loud air conditioning unit to the guards getting bored of only watching plain walls. Connor hasn’t really tried to escape. There’s nowhere for him to go.

Outside, the sounds get louder. Connor frowns, pushing himself up to stand. It almost sounds like people are arguing, plus a few distant thuds. Okay, not the AC. Maybe Roberta’s throwing a fit and finally started tossing around a few punches? Not likely, but what else could it be?

Connor slowly walks over to the door, pressing his ear against the smooth wood. It really does sound like the noises are getting closer, almost right outside– He backs up immediately, practically tripping over himself in an effort to get away. It’s good timing on his end too, because he’s hardly cleared the area before his door caves in. Connor chokes on the dust and smoke from the outside hall. Raising an arm to shield his eyes from the debris, he glances through the hole in what had once been his secure door and sees–

Risa.

Connor feels his breath catch in his chest, and not just because of the chaos with the door. “Risa?” He asks slowly.

She smiles at him. “Surprise.”

Connor takes a few tremulous steps forward, his shoes crunching on splinters of wood beneath him. She’s still in her wheelchair, but holding a large gun that she must have used to knock down the door. “Don’t point that thing at me,” he jokes, but his voice goes weak with relief and he doesn’t sound half as cool as he means to.

He’ll have to save the coolness factor for Risa. Further down the hall, Connor catches glimpses of other unwinds chasing off the guards. “You broke me out?” He asks, unable to believe his eyes.

“Of course we did,” Risa says. “What, did you think we’d just leave you there after you went to all that trouble to warn us about the attack? Not a chance.”

The attack. The sheer shock of seeing Risa had thrown that from his mind, but the memories came back full force. He reaches out desperately to take her free hand, begging her to understand him. “Risa. I didn’t want to say all those things, but they made me. Told me they’d blow you all to pieces if I didn’t support unwinding. I didn’t want to, not at all, but they said they’d kill you. You have to know that it wasn’t my choice.”

Risa just smiles. “I know, Connor. You looked so uncomfortable during all the broadcasts that we suspected something was up. Plus, the last one made it pretty clear that you didn’t believe all that bullshit.”

At last, Connor feels capable of cracking a smile. “Bullshit, huh? And here I thought I was doing a great acting job.”

Risa snorts. “Well, there might not be any Oscars in your future, but that doesn’t mean you’ll live out the rest of your days with only the PC as your company. What do you say we get out of here?”

“I’d like that a lot,” Connor says, voice thick with relief. Then, glancing at Risa– “Do you want me to take the gun? To make it easier to travel?”

Risa gives him a disbelieving glance. “Don’t be ridiculous. The gun stays with me.”

Connor raises his hands in mock surrender. “That is absolutely fine by me.”

“Good,” Risa grins, and they head back out of the twisting corridors. The other unwinds fall in line as they go, hurrying out of the complex.

As they escape out into the bright sunshine, Connor has to ask, “How did you know where to get me? And which room was mine?”

“Funny story,” Risa remarks offhandedly, “As we were breaking in, we met some strange guy named Camus Comprix. He told us where to go.”

“Cam helped you?” Connor asks, flabbergasted.

“Well, he had to be encouraged through threats of violence,” Risa admits, “but honestly, I think he was glad to be rid of you. That’s what he told me, at least. Also, he wanted to keep his kneecaps.”

Connor laughs. “Both of those are great reasons.”

There’s a helicopter waiting for them; Risa and Connor get inside, plus the unwinds who’d come with them. Connor vaguely recognizes the pilot from the Graveyard.

“So,” Connor asks, still unsettled by the realization that he might finally be free, “Where are we going, if not the Graveyard?”

“We’ve got a new place in order,” Risa says. “Don’t worry.”

An unwind by Connor’s shoulder breaks out into barking laughter. “Yeah, she’s whipped us all into shape. Got us out of the Graveyard before the place went nuclear, plus set up the new location. Most organized person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

“That sounds about right,” Connor says, letting out a low whistle. Risa smiles at him when he says it, and Connor can’t help but smile back. He’s out of the clutches of the Proactive Citizenry. His friends are alright. Most importantly, he’s back with Risa. For the first time in a while, it occurs to Connor that he might be on the up and up again. He likes the feeling.

requested by @bopeisdope, i hope you enjoy!!

unwind tag list: @reinekes-fox, @sirofreak, @locke-writes

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#connor lassiter #connor lassiter imagines #connor lassiter oneshot #connor lassiter fanfic #risa ward #risa ward imagines #risa ward oneshot #risa ward fanfic #conrisa #conrisa fanfic #unwind #unwind imagines #unwind oneshot #unwind fanfic #unwind dystology #unwind dystology imagines #unwind dystology oneshot #unwind dystology fanfic

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luckytidbit · 2 months

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Babs

Hehe

#unwind #unwind dystology #sequel fic #unwind fanfic #unwind series #art #character art #roland taggart #connor lassiter #cam comprix #hayden upchurch #the admiral #unwind oc #risa ward #lev tashi'ne #mason starkey #argent skinner #grace skinner #cyrus finch

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macbeth-murder-match · 1 year

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Hi yes I’d like to redeem a bribe now for Cam (full name camu comprix) from the unwind series and a Coke with no ice thx

alright!

#asks #bribesweep

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lazysailor · 12 days

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Here's some art I made for a chainsaw man au me and @canihavesomeseritoninplz are making

Here's @canihavesomeseritoninplz's art!

Cam, Una, Lev, and Roberta will be the main characters for the au. Yes, other Unwind characters will be relevant in the story too eventually

But eventually more details about this au will come out. I don't know when but I know there'll be more details soon.

#unwind #unwind dystology #unwind au #camus comprix #cam comprix #una jacali

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rreveriee · 3 years

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I really just can't get over how much I adore Cam Comprix

#please let my boy be happy #cam comprix #camus comprix #kodak 2%#camus composite-prime #unwind #unwholly #unwind dystology #neal shusterman

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sirofreak · 1 year

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My Unwind Dystology hyperfixation is back and I’m ready to single-handedly revive this long dead fandom

Firstly, some memes! (Spoilers btw)

Don’t ask why it’s mainly the villains

Unwind memes part two!

#RIVIVAL TIME BABYY #unwind dystology #unwind #undivided #unwholly #unsouled #undivided spoilers #connor lassiter #Starkey #jt Nelson #argent skinner #divan umarov #camus comprix #cam comprix #risa ward #memes

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robotstrategy · 4 months

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Recalled • Part 3 • 19 - Cam

Previous • Series Masterlist • Part 3 Masterlist • Next

When a minority of people exist close together, a certain individual’s actions can cause a bias towards others of that minority. Or it’s the possibility of someone interpreting something the wrong way. It’s like that little square of land in California called Slab City, it has no laws so people believe it’s full of criminals, but in reality, it’s just full of drug abusers.

Una holds his hand as they enter Indiana, it hasn’t even been 24 hours, yet there are already people glaring at him from all sides. On the leaper colony of Molokai, something like this could’ve been isolated. Something like this was isolated, but on the mainland of America all doors are open, none can ever be closed.

Exiting the airport Una and Cam enter a car, Cam cloaks himself in a hoodie, it seems like even after escaping the thumb of a giant corporation he still has to hide himself. The chauffeur takes a detour around the hospital near the StaHo, There’s a giant protest happening at the hospital’s entrance --IT HAPPENED ONCE AND IT WILL HAPPEN AGAIN!, --THEY’RE JUST CHILDREN!, it looks like the protest is getting violent.

“Well, I’m glad I’m not stuck in the middle of that.” The chauffeur comments.

Ending the detour the car pulls up to StaHo 1, Cam uncloaks himself as he steps into the building. The receptionist seems startled, she pulls out a walkie-talkie and whispers into it, setting it back under the desk, she addresses Cam and Una.

“Upstairs and two hallways down, you’ll know when you see it.” She tells them.

Cam and Una climb the stairs, there’s kids on laptops sitting in the bay window perpendicular to the stairwell. They look at Cam for a second before going back to their screens, their faces, too look grim. They know what happened, everyone knows what happened.

Going further down the hall there are the same grim faces as he and Una enter the residence ward, there’s the names of the children on the walls next to the doors of their respective dorms. Ester Patricia W., Nero Aidoneus W., and Madison Abigail W., all three girls are Military Boeufs, yet they specialize in different things. Madison is an ammo builder, she builds a type of pistol at her desk, Ester is going to be a medic, and she is constantly eying Nero at the moment. Nero lays on her bed, and there’s an eyepatch over her dead eye, though it’s not dead anymore, it’s been cloned as a fresh new eyeball. There’s an arm wrap around her left arm, she was given new fingers so that she could shoot a gun, she won’t be doing that anymore, but she doesn’t know it yet.

“They’ve given me an ID and a passport already, I guess they really just want me gone,” Nero tells Ester. “I just want to spend time with Sam, but you keep coddling me.”

Una gives Cam a worried look, there’s a hint of sadness in her eyes, and he knows why, they’re not putting Nero in the army, they’re separating her from her brother, and taking her to Molokai. That way, when she lashes out, it will be isolated.

All the girls have now caught glimpses of Cam and Una, Cam, Una, Ester, and Madison, exchange looks, Madison puts her tools back in her kit and takes what’s left of the gun out of the room.

“I’ll be right back,” Ester excuses herself from the room.

Nero’s uncovered eye darts from Cam to Una, and back to Cam. “So, I’m guessing you heard the news?” Nero asks Cam nods his head, and Nero sighs, looking down at her left arm.

“I didn’t mean to do it.”

“I know you didn’t.”

Cam sits down at Madison’s desk, facing the chair in Nero’s direction while she removes her eyepatch revealing her new eye, she smiles.

“Looks good as new right?” Cam doesn’t answer her, her smile drops, and she furrows her eyebrows. “You’re not going to scold me, are you? I mean, some people think you worked with the Akron Awol, so you’ve probably done way worse right?”

Cam takes a moment before he speaks, “I wanted to tell you the story of a boy who used to live with us on Molokai.” Nero looks annoyed, “Oh jeez, what are you gonna do? Give me a little "Moral of the story, don’t do this’ thing?” She asks. Una looks directly at Nero now, “Just let him talk.” Nero seems to listen to Cam’s wife better than him, she crisscrosses her legs and looks at him attentively.

“Right, well, back in the early days of the Rewinds, there was a boy named Dirk,” Cam tells her.

“Funny name, what was he like?” Nero asks him, there’s a sort of child-like wonder in her eyes like she’s already tethered herself to this dead boy’s story. Before Cam can respond, Una responds for him.

“Soulless.”

Nero furrows her eyebrows again, looking back to Cam.

“He didn’t click like the others did, when it came to him choosing a name for himself, he didn’t think about it like the others…” Cam pauses, “Which reminds me, how did you choose your name?”

Nero looks off into space, recalling the memory. “Nero, It reminded me of someone’s nonna who kept putting food on their plate, telling them they weren't eating enough. Aidoneus is, well, Aidoneus, funnily enough though, it’s an older name of Hades’, and Hades is one of Zeus' siblings.” Cam catches Una closing her eyes, he looks back to Nero, knowing that Samuel’s middle name is Zeus.

“Cool, cool. Dirk had someone he considered a brother, they shared body parts, it’s kind of like you and Sam.”

“What was his brother’s name?”

“It doesn’t really matter.”

“It matters to me, and it would matter to Sam.”

“Keaton, his name was Keaton, he was quite smarter than Dirk, he was the first Rewind to talk to an outsider on Molokai.”

“Isn’t that actually you? I feel like you’d be the first Rewind to talk to an outsider on Molokai.” Nero tells him.

Cam looks off to the side. “Oh no, you’re right, anyway, Dirk was quite the outcast, he would usually lash out at the most random of things, even lashing out at Keaton sometimes.”

“He also kept trying to get Keaton in on his terrible ideas,” Una added.

Cam nods. “Eventually Dirk wanted out of the hostile, and he did get out.”

“What then?” Nero implored.

“He broke into a girl’s house and attacked her,” Cam responded.

Nero's eyebrows twitch, there’s the imbalance of Mason’s vicious look and the tithe girl named Elisabeth’s disgusted one. “You know I didn’t do something like that.”

“I know, there were repercussions to Dirk’s actions, and unfortunately the people of Molokai couldn’t tell Dirk and Keaton apart, so they strapped Keaton’s limbs to four different vehicles and planned to rip him apart.”

Nero’s jaw drops, and even Mason looks horrified. “Did, did he die?!”

“No, the girl in question came forward saying it was the wrong guy, but in the midst of chaos Dirk had ridden off on someone's motorcycle, trying to escape the island, he crashed into an abandoned burger joint instead.”

“Did Dirk die?”

Cam tilts his head, “Not in that way, Dirk was armed, they considered blowing the place up, but Keaton walked down the pier, into the burger joint, Dirk handed him the gun, and Keaton…” Cam gulps, “He knew what had to happen.”

Nero sits on her bed, frozen, eyes wide open. “Holy shit.”

“No one other than the people of Molokai knows that story, that’s because it stayed isolated, and we want stories like that isolated,” Cam explained.

Cam looks at Una, her eyes are still closed, her lip pouts and her eyebrows droop, she doesn’t want to break the news. Nero’s eyes meet where Cam’s do, she catches on quite fast. “What do you have planned for me?”

Cam looks her in the eyes as her’s snap back to his. “We’re moving you to Molokai, you’d be better off there.” Cam holds his breath, awaiting whatever rage Nero is about to throw at him.

Instead, Nero just starts laughing, hysterically in fact, to both Una and Cam’s surprise.

“You, hah, you told me a story of some poor brain-dead boy to try to coerce me onto your island of freaks.” Her face twists into one of calmed rage, “That’s low Cam, very low.” she says softly. Cam takes a step back. “It’s not coercion really, I was trying to put it softly, the StaHo already booked a plane ticket for you.” Cam doesn’t look her in the eyes anymore, of course since he was built as the perfect man, he stands exactly at 6 feet, whereas Nero stands five inches over him. She keeps getting closer, which makes him even more nervous. He can't rely on the one boy’s arm to not try to kill him anymore, not with the new fingers attached to it.

“And what makes you think I’ll go on that plane with you?” Nero lunges at Cam, out of some sort of instinct his arms lunge back at her, but his body cowers back, and his eyes close shut.

Nothing happens, Cam opens his eyes, Una holds onto Nero’s right arm. Nero looks out into the hallway, Cam looks into the hallway, Sam stands there, he looks furious. Sam power walks in all his 5”4 glory over to Cam, he points a finger in Cam’s face.

“Cam, as much as I like you, you are not taking Nero away from me, I don’t care who I have to go through, you can’t do it!” He yells.

“It’s not really up for debate, I’m sorry that Nero’s ideas had to get in the way of you two,” Cam states calmly.

Sam goes over to Nero, wrapping his arms around her waist, he growls at Cam.

“What ideas?”

“To attack a boy and then go to the arcade, isn’t that what she did?” Una asks.

Sam still holds Nero. “N- no, we went to the arcade, but I wanted to invite Roland so Nero said she would find him.”

“And I did,” Nero folds her arms. “But it doesn’t mean his muscle memory didn’t lead me to some more dangerous places first.”

Una’s eyes shoot open, and Cam looks uneasy.

“Oh don’t be so surprised, didn’t you have a crush on Risa Ward so badly you wanted Roberta to bring her to the island?”

Nero asks, Cam gets a headache for a moment as the neuro nanites go to work. “Sorry, what are you talking about?”

Nero huffs. “Right, I can’t exactly make an argument against you when your brain keeps destroying your memories, I’m talking about the girl Cam.”

“You, also abused your parts, Cam?” Sam asks.

Cam holds his fingers to his temple, he’s done having this conversation, the girl seems like years ago. Cam is done with that part of his life. He opens his mouth to speak again, but Una places her hand on his shoulder. Her eyes say it all, she wants him to let it go, he supposes he and she both know that separating those two would lead to even worse things.

Cam sighs, “Fine, we won’t take you to Molokai, I’ll cancel the plane ticket, but if you ever do anything like that again, there will be consequences.”

Nero nods, Cam and Una start leaving the room, and as they reach the doorway Nero speaks to them. “Y’know in all these hours, no one ever asked me my side of the story.” Cam looks back at her. “The boy in question grabbed onto me, told me I wasn't going anywhere, and to quote him directly ‘Why don’t you have a little fun with us?’” Sam gasps, he holds onto Nero tighter. “I was going to be gang-raped,” She smiles sadistically at Cam. “It's a good thing I’ve got these beefy arms, isn’t it Cam?”

Cam feels like Nero just ripped him open from all sides and drenched him in lemon juice, yet, she’s got every right to do that. “Another thing, about Dirk,” Nero starts. “He might have been soulless, sure, but he also might have been low-cordial, you’ve seen how the low-cordial rewinds act at first, haven’t you?”

Una and Cam look at each other, could Nero be right? Could Dirk’s death have been avoided if they checked in on his behaviour faster?

“Goodbye Cam, I don’t ever want to hear from you again… goodbye to you as well Una.”

Una and Cam leave the room, as they exit there are looks of wonder around them. Everyone knew what would happen to Nero, and now they’re confused that she’s with not them.

They make it back down to the lobby, there’s a boy clearly in distress talking to the receptionist, and there’s also a girl who peeks out from behind him. The receptionist catches them in her sight, she looks confused.

“Isn’t the girl supposed to be with you?” She asks them.

“Change of plans, I suggest listening to Nero’s side of the story,” Cam responds.

The boy turns to Cam now, it’s one of the Recalls from their last support group meeting, Roland, if he remembers correctly. “Is she okay? Is Sam okay? They’re not unwound are they?” He cries out.

“Oh no, of course not, is that what you thought was going to happen?”

“It was on the news.” The girl peeps.

Cam shakes his head. “We were only going to isolate Nero, though after hearing her side of the story, it’s pretty evident she’s done nothing wrong.”

“Can we go see them now?” Roland questions.

The receptionist shakes her head at them, sliding her hand back and forth in front of her neck, mouthing ‘no’. Cam sighs,

“No, let them see Nero and Sam, he clearly thought his friends just died.” The receptionist looks defeated, printing out visitor tags and handing them off to Roland and the girl.

Cam and Una leave the StaHo, if Cam had known what really happened, he would have never come in the first place.

#unwind dystology #unwind #unwind fanfic #unwind series #sequel fic #unwind oc #cam comprix #roland taggart

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