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phoebepheebsphibs · 1 month

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If we turn left enough times, we'll have gone in a circle.... and end up right back where we started.

@boots-with-the-fur-club @daboyau @littlemissartemisia @thevoidbrothers @noval1t (I hope they don't mind I added their characters into the story for special guest appearance 👉👈)

CW: fight scenes, blood/ichor, panic attacks, slight body horror, hallucinations, abuse, experimentation, surgery, torture... cardiac arrest and character death

(It's a really long one. I am so sorry in advance lol)

Also, just for clarification: UIFY = Until I Found You NFIF = No Fun in Fungus DvD = Donatello Von Draxum 'Phael = Raphael Jurogumo

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Misa waddled along the corridors of the arena as she retraced her steps. She couldn't recall exactly where she'd left the portal sword, but she knew it was in the area... Her families were counting on her. Her older little brothers and sister April needed her help! And she was so excited to help them and prove Lee-Lee wrong about her being "just a little kid". She wasn't little! She was 4 years old! That was so grown up and big, she could do all sorts of things by herself... If she could only find her sword. She'd show him just how big she was!

Out of the blue, a familiar floating sensation took her and she watched with surprise as she was lifted up high into the rafters. Misa squealed with delight.

"Up, up!"

Waves smiled at her, returning her laughter with chirps and giggles of his own.

"Are you going to keep playing with your food, or what?"

Misa watched as a splash of pitch created another figure -- a version of Donatello but entirely grayscale -- formed in the rafters next to them.

Waves turned to look at his brother with a great big smile on his face, his eyes empty and black as he stared at Signal. He hissed a warning. Misa is off-limits.

"Fine. Just didn't see the point in wasting such a sweet little snack."

Waves hissed at him again before nuzzling his face into Misa's. She giggled with glee. These brothers didn't scare her. Waves might seem spooky, but deep down he was a silly little sweetheart and she adored him. Especially when he would pick her up and fly around with her.

"What exactly is the little Artemisia doing way out here all by herself?" Signal asked, leaning in close to her tiny face.

"Getting sword for my family!" she explained.

"Ah, weaponizing children now, are we? I think Static was handing out medieval swords and maces earlier..."

"Did somebody say 'best void brother'?" came a glitchy voice as another void brother appeared.

"It's like he's Beetlejuice or something..." Signal growled.

"I just thought the little lady might like this," Static stated smugly as he handed Misa her retrieved portal sword. He'd found it for her!

Misa cheered happily as she brandished the weapon, the blade glinting in the light and reflecting her image like a mirror.

"What's going on up here?" a fourth and final voice boomed. Radio slowly emerged from the shadows of the rafter corners. "Static, you're not giving minors weapons again, are you?"

"How did you even get up here?" Signal asked incredulously. "You're practically the size of a dump truck, how can you even fit in these rafters?"

"Call me that again and I'll flatten you like a dump truck."

"Just worried for the structural integrity of the building, is all..." Signal sassed back.

Radio rolled his eyes as he made his way over to the others, specifically Static, who still owed Radio an answer.

"I wasn't handing out weapons, I was retrieving it. It already belonged to her!"

Radio's eyes shifted from Static to Misa, who nodded her head as Waves shook his (he wanted to get Static in trouble as a joke).

"Why would a little thing like you need a sword?" he asked cautiously.

"Family needs help! Misa gets her sword for them!" she explained. "Bad spores!"

"Your family? You mean that band of misfits and the anxiety-riddled shroomie teens?"

Waves nodded for her. Misa didn't really understand what shroomie meant. Radio scratched his chin as he considered the situation. He knew that there was an outbreak of fear spores going on, and the two AU teams had been working to find and destroy them. It wasn't looking good thus far. Even Signal had gotten spored, and though he wouldn't admit it... they knew it wasn't a pleasant experience for him. Radio couldn't say he was an expert on mushrooms, but he knew a thing or two about invasive beings and decay. And if that fungus was as bad as everyone was making it out to be, then it could mean disaster for every AU in this place.

"...I don't suppose we could be of any help?"

Donatello howled with maniacal laughter.

His prisoners watched with fear as he ordered the vines to wrap around Michelangelo like ropes, tying his arms to his sides and keeping a very strong grip around his throat just in case anyone got any funny ideas. DvD was screaming bloody murder and promising every kind of painful demise if Audrey III didn't release his baby brother immediately. But he could see the tears in his eyes, he could hear the panic and utter fear.

Oh god, the fear was delicious. He wanted more...

Raphael struggled against the odd vines that had sprouted from Donnie's shell, as he brought him closer towards the room where Leo and the others were. The vines were an amalgamation creation -- partially machine, partially Dee's ninpo, and partially... Raph could only assume it was the mushroom. Had it been growing inside of his shell?? He desperately tried to free himself from the terrible growth. He managed to get one arm out --

"Oh-ho-ho-ho, what are we trying here?" the plant asked through Donnie, smirking down at Raph and commanding several other vines to take ahold of his arms and pull, stretching him out in every direction as he yelled in pained protests. "You didn't really think you could get out that easy, did you?"

Raph grunted and growled as he fought against the vines.

"Donnie!! SNAP OUTTA IT! I know you like to play the mad scientist sometimes, but this is TAKING IT TOO FAR!!"

"I'll tell him you said that," Audrey III smirked. "He's on sabbatical right now, but I'm sure the message can get through... eventually."

Raph screamed in anger as hot tears streaked down his face.

"But in the meantime, I think I'd like to taste your fear again..."

The door behind them opened, and out came a stream of blue fog, followed by the Hand.PNG, which crawled up the vines and onto Donnie's shoulder like a spider.

"Let's invite our dear friends to dinner, shall we?"

The vines began to drag Micheal and Raph into the room.

DvD began to screech like a monster, the muscles in his arms tensing and flexing against the vines and finally breaking their hold. He ran towards the wall, screaming in fury as he spun the tech-bō and leapt. They would not take his brother.

A spark of light ignited in his eyes.

It spread across his body.

The light burst like flame at the end of his staff.

All eyes watched him in shock as he shouted a war cry and slammed the tech-bō into the wall Dee had created earlier.

It shattered completely.

A shockwave burst from the impact and threw everyone back, dissolving the vines that held everyone.

Mikey's limp body fell.

DvD rushed to catch him. He almost made it when Donnie/Audrey III stepped in front of him and kicked him back with one of his mechanical arms. The battle-shell-clad ninja crawled up the side of the wall and grabbed the child before he could hit the ground. Mikey's head bobbed, and he groaned in discomfort at having been thrown around like a rag doll.

"You duplicitous little --! HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!" Audrey III spat angrily.

In all honesty, DvD had no idea what he'd just done or how he'd done it. All he knew was that he needed to protect Mikey at all costs. And then the wall broke. In his shocked stupor, he failed to get up in time and suddenly found a new vine wrapping around his neck like a boa constrictor and tightening like a noose.

Mikey's eyelids fluttered.

Donnie/Audrey III brought the alt. version of himself close to his face.

"YOU HAVE NO MAGIC, YOU YOURSELF TOLD HIM THAT! YOU LYING LITTLE --" Donnie's eyes peered into DvD's as he choked. "...Perhaps you are more interesting than you let on. Shall we see what else is in your silly little head, my dear anarchist?"

Donnie gasped for air, kicking and clawing at his captor as he tried to free himself. He... he was blacking out...

Mikey's eyes burst open.

He screamed as loudly as he could, his entire body erupting into gold and amber light, blinding the entire corridor.

A shrieking sound came from the dark room. The door slammed shut.

Donatello turned around in shock, as a torrent of chains burst from the boy, two for each vine he'd created.

Oh. Now we play.

He'd seen this from the boy before; he'd been rooting around in his mind and saw the memories from the last time. He knew the child was afraid of these powers, he couldn't control them very well. Especially the really strong spells like this. He knew how this scene played out. He just had to either wait him out to spend himself dry -- or let him do what the previous poor, sweet Michelangelo had done, and turn himself into a monster. Either would work...

Mikey held his hand out. A series of chains came and sliced the vine choking out his brother. DvD fell to the floor, quickly caught by the chains -- which also grabbed NFIF Raphael -- and carried them away to the others who watched in utter shock as the child landed on the ground and summoned his mystic nunchucks.

"Well, well, well... look who finally woke up."

Mikey's eyes were wide and glowed burning gold. He said nothing, his face empty, devoid of expression. Mikey was not at home anymore, he was controlled by his ninpo. He simply tilted his head in response to Audrey III's eggings.

"I wonder... you tried to save Donatello from my clutches earlier. Did you know then that your efforts would be in vain? Did you know that in your absence, you'd leave your brothers and sisters to face me alone?"

The two circled around one another, preparing to duel it out.

"I sensed your connection; you'd discovered the truth, hadn't you? You'd discovered this pathetic boy's treachery, how he'd joined my cause."

Mikey's face never faltered. His knuckles tightened around as his weapon.

"I suppose 'joined' was the wrong word to use. He really was weak and pathetic, you know. It was almost too easy to leech my way into his mind. I highly doubt his consciousness could have survived from my invasion. I do hope you said your goodbyes."

Michelangelo charged.

Donnie/Audrey III swirled the staff in front of himself, deflecting the impacts of the little child as he battled the fungus infected version of his brother.

Mikey's movements were graceful, practically a performance as he flowed back and forth, throwing his chains at the purple ninja turtle, whose movements in contrast were fierce and sharp and violent and purely angry.

"Did... did you know he could do that?" 'Phael asked shakily, turning to look at Leo.

Leo simply stared in silence, mouth agape with awe and shock of his baby brother.

"Leo, did you know he could do this??"

"I... I-I mean... sort of... I knew he could do magic... but not like this..."

Michelangelo danced around Donatello, waving his arms and creating ribbons of golden light as he filled the room with light.

Wait a minute, light...

"The light... the light!" NFIF Raphael shouted suddenly. "The light! It's how we defeated the spores the first time, using mystic light! It disintegrates them!"

"How poetic, the light drives away the fear," DvD muttered, still rubbing his neck from the constraining grip of the vines.

"If we can get the door open, we can flood the room with his light and free them all!"

"Okay, solid plan, great effort from everybody, just one slight hitch -- HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO GET AROUND THE MYSTIC BATTLE WHERE OUR BROTHERS ARE TRYING TO KILL EACH OTHER?!" Leo yelled.

"Raph's still comin' up with the plan!! Cut me some slack!"

"I can try to poof you guys to the door," April offered. "It won't be completely accurate, but I can get you close."

"That'll have to do," Raph nodded. "And whatever you do, avoid the hand and the spores!"

April grabbed hold of NFIF Raphael, squeezed her eyes shut, and then - poof! - landed the two right in the middle of the fight.

"AAGH! Sorry, sorry!" she screamed, ducking under Mikey's advance against Donnie, as Raph created an enormous ninpo arm and shielded the two of them from Dee's barrage of ninpo torpedoes.

"Get to the door!" Raph screamed, taking her by the hand and pulling her away as he created two more clones to help in the fight.

Mikey danced and ducked under the glowing purple missiles shot at him. He gripped his nunchuck tightly, whipped it towards one of the Raph clones. It wrapped around his arm, igniting in flames, then swung over Mikey's head like a lasso. He flung the fiery clone at Donnie, who just barely managed to dodge the flaming brother, which created a crater in the ground before him. The second clone came and tried to keep him from firing anymore missiles at UIFY Mikey.

"I'm surprised at you," Donnie huffed, trying to keep up with the two attackers. "Why would you want to fight against me? We're brothers!"

"We don't want to fight you," one clone growled. "But you're not in your right mind, so we'll have to do what we can."

"I'm sure you will," Donnie snarled, changing his bō staff into a spear and skewered the clone straight through. It disintegrated into red blocks and pixels. He turned to the second clone, creating the oh-so-famed drill, and firing at the poor duplicate.

Meanwhile, Raphael and April had made it to the door, April gripping the handle as she waited for Raphael's orders.

"Get ready," she panted, out of breath from dodging both sides of the attack. "Once this door opens, a flood of blue is gonna come out."

"I'll get you out, don't worry," Raph said with a nod.

"It's not me I'm worried about. Donnie said the Hamatos are full of senseless martyrs."

"He's... not wrong. But I promise that I won't sacrifice myself."

April nodded, hoping that he would keep that promise.

"Okay, then."

April threw the door open. As soon as she did, a torrent of blue smoke fumed out, engulfing both April and Raphael. April kept her eyes closed, waiting for the nightmares to start. But they never did. She opened her eyes and saw the world from inside a red glowing giant. Raph held onto her, arms spread around her in a safety hold, his hologram form shielding them from the spores.

Donnie/Audrey III felt a pain in the back of his mind. They turned and saw that the spores were leaking out of the room. Okay, now they were getting irritated.

"Why, you little...!"

In this moment of distraction, Michelangelo's chains wrapped around the softshell's waist and pulled him in. Mikey reached out and grabbed him by his neck, holding him just mere inches away from his expressionless face, eyes still burning like melted gold, no irises nor pupils. Donnie's wide, icy blue-tinted eyes contrasted them sickeningly. Donnie smiled.

"Go ahead," he said, voice smooth and calm. "Kill me."

Mikey blinked at him, but that was all. Audrey III continued.

"That was your plan all along, wasn't it? This ridiculous show of power, the fight? You were planning on finishing the job, weren't you?"

Mikey's fingers squeezed softly. A threat.

"What, are you afraid? Why? Shouldn't it be easy? Are you even in control of yourself? Why would you be afraid to squeeze the life out of someone who looks just like your brother, could actually be your brother?"

Mikey's hand let go, his arms shaking. A soft golden glow started to seep through the bandages.

"Ah, and it looks like you may be out of time."

Michelangelo looked down. Golden ichor dripped off of his fingertips. He pulled the bandages off, revealing the scars on his arms, which were glowing white hot, tiny cracks forming from their edges and shimmering, glittery ichor was bleeding from the reopened wounds. The price to pay for his powers.

Some Mikeys cracked.

He didn't.

Not again... n-not again...

Donatello/Audrey III dusted himself off as he watched Michelangelo slowly come to. With his ninpo overdrive giving way, his mind leisurely crept back into place; the golden glazed over his eyes melting as his irises came into focus and his pupils dilated. The ichor dripping down his forearms began turning a deep red, the glowing scars on his arms becoming irritated open wounds.

No, no! Mikey couldn't give up just yet, not when his family still needed him! But... he knew he'd used up almost all his precious energy... he... h-he... Mikey's breathing slowed, raggedy respiration as his hands shook and his knees wobbled beneath him. The room started to spin as black spots entered his vision. He managed to catch a glimpse of Donatello, swinging his staff with great force and slamming it into Mikey's chest with a hideous cracking sound.

Mikey was flung back several feet, dizzy and dazed and all the air knocked out of him. He vaguely registered multiple voices calling his name...

April screamed, NFIF Raphael screaming with her. April's teleportation powers activated without her realizing it, and she suddenly found herself by MIkey's side. Weak as he was, he had curled up into himself, clutching his stomach in pain and trying to catch his breath as he writhed on the floor. His brothers were also by her side in an instant, each one fretting over his injuries.

April looked up to see Donnie/Audrey III standing over them, the hand perched on his shoulder like a vulture.

Dee held out the severed arm, and gave it to the creature.

"Be whole again, dear disciple," he said with a smile, as the hand reattached itself to the limb, a flash of light combining the two together once again.

"That's gross," Leo grimaced. "Hey, DvD, you're a science experiment, can you do that?"

"No, but I can."

All eyes looked behind Donatello/Audrey III.

A black substance expanded and took form -- an adult version of Donatello, devoid of any colour whatsoever.

April cheered, whooping at his arrival. 'Phael screamed at a pitch that only dogs could hear. He was still convinced that these "Void Brothers" were the ones who'd sent him the ominous sticky note near the beginning of this entire adventure in the competition.

"So," Donnie/Audrey III said with a growl. "It looks like we have some more players in the game."

"Think you can keep up?" Signal asked, his form morphing into one of pure black, multiple arms expanding from his abdomen and several extra sets of teeth growing in his ever-widening mouth.

"The more the merrier," Donatello/Audrey III chuckled, letting the Hand.PNG crawl into his palm. "You know what to do," he whispered to it.

The hand instantly vanished, reappearing by the doorway behind Raphael, and scurrying into the room. A second later, blue chains shot out, slicing through Raphael's hologram.

"That's not good," he mumbled, forcing the hand to reach into the gargantuan stomach, pull him out, and fling him towards the others before the spores could seep through all the way.

Two figures emerged from the doorway, their movements somewhat sluggish. There were tiny mushrooms protruding from their skin. Their eyes glowed a neon blue, and their ninpo matched the shade.

Karai and Mikey.

"No..." Leo whispered, staring in horror. "Karai... what happened to her...?"

"Oh, Mikey," Raph whimpered. "Oh no, big man..."

"He's not gonna make us fight them, is he?" April asked nervously.

The two warriors charged.

"Yep. He is. He most definitely is. Shoulda seen this one coming, honestly. That's on me."

"Get outta here," Raphael ordered. "Me and... uh, these guys -" he said, gesturing to the four colourless adults that had already started combating against the swayed relatives, "- will keep them from following you."

"I thought you said you weren't gonna sacrifice yourself!" April yelled angrily.

"I know, and Raph is gonna keep his promise. But your little brother is hurt, he needs help now! I'm not gonna just hand myself over, I'm your cover. Now get going!"

April wanted to argue about it more, but before she could, she was taken by the wrist and pulled away. Waves was tugging her -- as well as the others -- off to a small clearing.

"Where do we go?!" 'Phael yelled, concerned that they had no real escape plan...

"Misa helps!" came a familiar voice. A sword slashed through the open air, and a bright portal opened in front of them...

...Donatello/Audrey III commanded a cloud of spores, hurtling them towards Radio.

"What are you, some kinda Avatar: the Last Airbender wannabe?" he joked as he dodged the cloud.

"I wonder why you would stand against me. Do we not fight for the same cause? Survival? We feed off of others, we only want to exist on our own terms... can you not see our similarities?"

"Nah, not really," Radio said, slamming his fist into the ground, only missing Donnie by half an inch.

"Such a shame. Then I suppose you must die."

"Happy to return the favour--"

"You can't hurt them!" Raphael shouted as he joined the fray.

"Whaddya mean, we can't? They're trying to hurt us!" Static shouted angrily, popping in and out of random spots, infuriating the heck out of mushroomed Mikey.

"They're not in control of their bodies, they're zombies! We hafta find a way to un-zombify them!"

"Well, no offense, but I don't think they share your mindset of 'no hurting the opponents'," Static sighed. "Besides, you're gonna have a hard time getting Signal to change his mind."

"Well, I'm gonna have to, those are my brothers and un-dead gram-gram from another dimension-- wait, where's Leo?!"

Raph looked around the corridor anxiously for the third zombie. He wasn't anywhere to be seen.

He must still be in the room. Raph darted among the others, rushing towards the dark room. There was still a huge cloud of blue smoke that surrounded the doorway, Raph couldn't go in without being infected. But he could see inside.

There was Leo, sitting up against the wall -- oh god.

Leo's body was half-engulfed in the biggest, scariest mushroom Raphael had ever seen. It's giant eye zeroed in on Raph. It... it looked too much like... his fingers traced over his own injured eye nervously. Why did it look so similar? Donnie had theorized that the fungus might've been kraang-related, but...

Leo. Focus on Leo.

He was there, being absorbed into the mushroom. He looked so pale and thin, like he was wasting away. Raph had to save him somehow, but --

"Enjoying the view?" Donnie/Audrey III asked, whacking Raph over the head with his staff as hard as he could. Raphael crumbled to the ground, clutching his skull and groaning in pain. Yeah, that was going to leave a mark... and a pretty nasty concussion, too...

While Raph was stunned on the floor, Donnie/Audrey III noticed the portal that had allowed for the Until I Found You group's escape. It was still open.

The hand appeared at Donnie/Audrey III's feet.

"This form has served its purpose," he said flatly. "I have what I need for now... But I require you to follow after them. Bring me back the scientist, I believe that he may be of some use to me. And even if not, he can't be left with them. He's too smart, he'll find some way to weaken me... I cannot leave it to chance. Bring him to me."

The Hand.PNG "nodded" at his master, then jumped away towards the portal.

Raphael struggled to keep his vision straight. He felt something wrap around his chest, tugging him backwards. He saw the Void Brothers driving the two zombified Hamatos back to the room... in Raphael's direction... the room...

Raph's head pounded louder than a drum. The ringing in his ears wouldn't stop. He knew April would have his head for giving in so easily... maybe she'd understand given the circumstances. He could barely hold his head up after that last hit... Donnie was a lot stronger than he looked.......

At least... he would be sleeping soon. At least he would be in good company. All the Hamato martyrs, together again. At least he was with Gram-Gram again.

At least he'd be with Leo, soon...

The door closed.

Leon recalled the feeling of portalling.

It was kind of like falling. Accidentally skipping a step down the stairs. An acidic scent that slightly burned the nostrils, a popping in the ears as you go from one altitude to the other in an instant and a half.

Leo hadn't done a lot of portalling, but he'd had his fair share of experiences with the activity. But he still wasn't used to the feeling yet. He stumbled through the bright blue splotch of light and tripped on his way out, finding himself in a brand new corridor. The others followed soon after, clambering out one by one and almost stepping on top of each other.

"Where... where are we?"

"Who cares! We have to go back!" April shouted. "Raph still needs us!"

"What exactly are we supposed to do? Go in, guns blazing? With what guns??" Leo yelled anxiously, waving his arms around to gesture to the obvious lack of firearms.

"P-Prilly's right, w-we haf-hafta... go... back..."

Mikey whined loudly, trying to push himself away from Donnie. The effort hurt his injured arms, which were still bleeding profusely.

"Micheal, hold still--"

"N-no, they need us, Donnie... th-they need us... they need..."

Mikey slipped out of his grip and fell to his knees, shakily trying to get back up.

"Michael, you're in no condition to be going into a battle like that!"

"Mikey all red," Misa whimpered. "Mikey's not s'posed to be so red..."

"No, he's not," Leo growled. "Dude, just sit this one out --"

"No!" Mikey sobbed. "I can't sit back and watch as the people I love and care about get hurt!"

"WHY DO YOU THINK WE WANT YOU TO STAY PUT?!" Leo shouted angrily. "I am NOT having you get hurt like that again! Donnie, take Mikey and go find him some first aid," Leo ordered.

Donnie nodded, picking up the angry box turtle and carrying him into a side hall that lead to one of the many lounge areas. "Raph, April and I will come up with a plan."

"What Misa do?" the littlest turtle mutant asked.

"...You have a very important job to do," Leo announced. "You got those ghosty guys to come and help fight... We're gonna need all the help we can get. Misa, you're the recruiter. Go find as many people as you can and get them to come. Tell them how important it is, okay? This is a big responsibility."

Misa's face lit up.

Lee-Lee trusted her! He knew she was responsible! Misa saluted him with a determined smile and nodded.

"Misa get all the families! Everybody comes!"

"Exactly, Misa. Everybody comes."

"So what, we're just gonna pull an Avengers Endgame on the shrooms? We need more of a strategy than that!" April groaned.

"What the heck is an Avengers Endgame?" Leo asked.

"It's a human reference for a movie. Basically it just means that everybody bands together against the bad guy for an epic finale," 'Phael explained.

"Then why not say that? It makes much more sense than 'Avengers Endgame' -- and how did you know what that meant??"

"I do live with humans, in a human hotel, y'know," 'Phael said, rolling his eyes. "I've seen human movies."

"Okay, well, the majority of our family has not, so maybe--"

"Can we get back to the matter at hand?!" April exclaimed loudly.

"Hand?" Misa asked, eyeing something behind them.

"She means the important stuff," Leo explained.

"Hand!" she yelled.

"Yes, yes, we're trying to get back to the matter at--"

"No, hand!" Misa pointed.

The group turned around to see the blurry trail of a small appendage rushing into the hall after DvD and Mikey.

"I don't just want to sit a-a-and do nothing," Mikey pouted, still shaking in DvD's arms.

"I understand that, you know I do," DvD sighed. "And you also know why I am requiring you to rest. You recall what happened the last time--"

"I know, I know, don't remind me. I was bedridden for days..."

"And yet you wonder why we won't let you go fighting."

Mikey grumbled and turned away from DvD. He was so mad, he could spit venom. He knew they were right, of course they were right. But that didn't make it any easier; in fact it made it worse. Because Mikey knew he was right, too! At least, half-right. He knew that they should go back and help. But he knew he couldn't do much, not with all his energy spent and his arms in the state they were now. They stung like mad, he could barely move them. Donnie had removed what was left of the bandages, doing his best not to gag at the sight and keeping his hands as still as possible, despite his aversion to the blood.

Mikey shouldn't feel guilty for this, right?

It wasn't his fault, right? It was just... how his mystic powers were. He couldn't help the way his body worked, just as much as he couldn't help when his hypoglycemia acted up. It wasn't his fault that he was the way he was... it wasn't a bad thing, right? Being Mikey? Being sensitive to others and sensitive to himself, having some few medical issues and mystic setbacks... that wasn't necessarily a terrible thing, right? Right...?

Mikey turned away so DvD couldn't see him crying. He didn't want him to think he was any more immature or any weaker than he undoubtedly did already. Than they all did. Leo had been taking care of him and his ailments since he was a baby. And Raph was holding on to that one special secret of his... and Donnie had cleaned up the blood and gone to get some more gauze and anti-bacterial supplies for Mikey's wounds. Mikey sighed and wished he wasn't so pathetic. He wished he was stronger, smarter, better. Anyone but himself. The only thing he was good for was his stupid useless mystic powers, and they always did more harm than good, especially self-harm. Mikey hated them. He hated himself--

NO, no, don't think like that! That wasn't kind, that wasn't fair! Mikey didn't actually hate himself at all, he was just mad. He needed to let it go. He needed to sit back and breathe...

Mikey leaned back, exhaled slowly, inhaled deeply.

And he saw it.

Crawling like a cockroach on the wall and up the ceiling.

With something blue in its grip.

"DEE, LOOK OUT!!"

The Hand.PNG shot the spores at Donatello Von Draxum.

Mikey jumped.

He had no time to do anything else.

He had no energy to summon mystic chains or make a spell or do anything clever like that.

He just jumped. Dove, really. Dove straight for his brother, in a desperate attempt to push him out of the way, move him aside, get him to safety!

The spores hit him.

"MIKEY?! MIKEY!!!"

Donnie grabbed his brother, holding him close, ignoring the hand as it disappeared into the shadows to watch the scene play out...

"Mikey, look at me, focus on me, okay? You can get through this, alright!? Just concentrate on my voice..."

Mikey nodded furiously, trying to listen to DvD. But there was a ringing starting, his head felt light and dizzy, the room began to spin and get darker. DvD was fading from vision...

NO! Stay, with me, Donnie, please! Donnie?! DONNIE!!

Donnie started shouting, someone was taking him away! Mikey tried to get up, go after him -- his leg caught on something. His arms, too! He looked down and saw titanium shackles, imprisoning him to a cold metal table.

A light shone in his vision. He squinted at the blinding brightness, wishing he could have a hand free to guard his eyes. Something stood in front of the light, casting a shadow over him.

"Well, well, well... if this isn't a surprise? Back again for more, are we?"

Mikey couldn't breathe.

It... it was him. It was him.

Baron Draxum.

"No... no... no --"

"I think we need to run a few more tests on our little friend here, don't you, Donatello?"

Draxum stepped aside and showed Mikey a view of DvD, chained by the wrists and gagged at the mouth. He was screaming at Mikey, trying to warn him, pleading with him to get out of here!

Mikey screamed back at him, begging wordlessly for Draxum to let him go, please, please!!

Instead, Draxum had one of his vines whip across the room and beat his son across the face. Mikey screamed, sobbing and wailing.

"STOP! NO!"

"He always was such a pathetic disappointment." Draxum turned to the other imprisoned turtle. "Perhaps you will show some promise."

No... n-no, this wasn't how it happened! Donnie w-wasn't -- he was never -- a-and Mikey wasn't awake for any of it, he was asleep for the entire thing! He shouldn't be awake now, he shouldn't be, he shouldn't -- H-he... no, no, no, no no no no nonononononononono!!

Draxum came forward with a needle and scalpel.

"Let's begin."

DvD couldn't stop crying, he just couldn't keep the tears from coming. Mikey was sitting on the floor, screeching his poor little head off, eyes wider than saucers and filled to the brim with fear. He couldn't move much, apart from shaking nonstop. He looked like he was constantly trying to wriggle away from something, but for some odd reason his wrists and ankles were invisibly anchored to the floor. Mikey's limbs twitched as he squirmed and struggled, screaming and begging for whatever he was witnessing to stop, please, please please please stop--

"WHERE IS IT, WHERE THE HECK IS THAT HAND, WHO'S SCREAMING, WHAT'S HAPPENING--?!"

Leon and the others rushed into the room, quickly inspecting the situation and coming upon the obvious conclusion.

"April, take Misa outside..." Leo said after inspecting the scene.

"Misa want to stay with Mikey--!" the little girl protested, but April quickly scooped her up and carried her off.

Leon and 'Phael immediately dropped to Mikey's side, Leo taking the box turtle's hand in his and trying to get him to wake up.

"Dee... fear spores, right?"

"...Yeah..."

"The hand."

"Yes."

"What... what is he seeing?" 'Phael asked nervously, eyes watering at the sight of his baby brother in so much pain.

"I... there's only one thing that could scare him this bad..."

"Draxum?" Leo whimpered.

DvD nodded.

"But... h-he doesn't remember anything from that, you said he was under heavy sedatives for the entire time!"

"He was! Draxum kept him under constant anesthetics -- perhaps his mind is creating an idea of what he thinks happened?"

Raphael started fidgeting with his hands.

"U-um... actually..."

The two boys looked up at him.

"'Phael? What... what is it?"

"...He told me not to tell ya..."

"Tell us what?" Leo questioned.

"H-he made me promise--"

"Raph," DvD said, his voice begging him in ways that words could not. "Please."

"He... he does remember. He does remember what happened in the labs."

Donnie and Leo stared. Mikey continued to sob and scream.

"...What... how... how could he know that... and how do you know that he knows?!" Leo asked, voice raising with each word.

"And why wouldn't he tell us?!" DvD asked in disbelief.

Raph swallowed nervously, a sweat breaking out across the worry lines on his brow.

"He... it started sometime after Karai arrived. H-he thought that m-might do with the mystic training she did with him -- but he started having... nightmares..."

"Nightmares?"

"He said he started dreaming memories about it. It was an out-of-body sorta thing, he said. Like he was watching from the outside... He could never get away from the visions, he said -- but every night, he saw a new one."

"And he... came to you about it? Why not ME?!" Leo yelled, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Or Donnie?! Why not tell us?! We're ALL his brothers!!"

"He told me... he said he didn't wanna burden you."

"...Burden?" Donnie whimpered. "...How?"

Raphael looked back and forth between them all. His eyes fell on Leon.

"...He told me he didn't want you to feel... responsible for another thing," Raph mumbled. "He said he felt bad enough about everything he's made you worry over already, he didn't want you to..."

"...He didn't want me to know...? Because... he felt guilty?" Leo wept, tears pooling and spilling from his eyes. "That... I don't... he shouldn't have felt that way, why did he..."

Leo's eyes glossed over, he squeezed them shut, clutching Mikey's tiny fist and pressing it against his chest.

"How could I make him feel like that...?" he wept. "I never meant... I never knew..."

"But... why not tell me? I could have helped," Donnie said in-between uneven breaths. "I already knew what had happened!"

"That's... actually why he didn't come to you, Don," 'Phael explained. "He s-said, he said he didn't want to hurt you. He saw how much you were struggling and wanted to wait until you were... doing better about the whole ordeal. To be honest, I agreed with him on that mark."

"But why did he tell you?" Leo asked. "Why only you, and not us?"

"I s'pose... because he knew that I knew what it was like to be afraid all the time," 'Phael sobbed. "He knew that I wouldn't judge him for his fears. He couldn't sleep at night anymore, he needed someone to stay with him and help him through his fits... But I told him! I told him to tell you both! I told him you should know!" he cried, whimpering nervously as he wrung his hands and rocked back and forth.

"Raph! Raph, it's okay..." Leo tried to reassure him. "I mean... it's not completely okay... I wish he'd told me, but... that doesn't matter now."

Leo held Raphael close.

"We just... we need to be here for him now... How much does he know?"

"...Everything."

"...This isn't going to be easy for him," Donnie exhaled.

"Or us," Leon added.

The trio gathered close to Michelangelo, each laying their hands on him, a sign that they were there and they were offering comfort in the only way they could.

Mikey kept screaming, he couldn't stop screaming. No matter what his brothers tried, they couldn't snap him out of whatever horrors he was experiencing. They just kneeled beside him, holding his hands and hoping their support made some leeway.

But Mikey just kept screaming, shrieking, crying, weeping, wailing, sobbing. He howled until his throat ran dry and his voiced cracked and went hoarse. He wept until his eyes were red and irritated and his cheeks were stained with saltwater and starting to chafe and the area around his eyes went puffy and soft. And on he went. For what seemed like hours, days, years, centuries even -- but was probably only 15 minutes. Mikey was stuck in a loop of fits and fear.

And then finally, he slowed. His breathing calmed, his sobs turning to hiccups and suck-ups and hyperventilation, as his eyes darted around, looking for something familiar.

"Is... is it over?" Leo asked, internally begging for it to be so.

Donatello was heaving along with Mikey, his cheeks also stained with tears.

"I... I think--"

"D-Donnie?" Mikey whispered shakily.

"Mikey? I'm right here, I'm --"

"No... no, not Donnie, please, I--"

"Is, is he --?"

"He's not done with the hallucination yet," Donnie realised. "It's about to get so much worse."

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!" Mikey screamed, bolting forwards. His legs tangled underneath him, causing him to trip over himself. His arms were strained behind him, his ankles struggling against the ground, as if something was still holding him back.

"WHAT IS HAPPENING TO HIM, WHAT IS HE SEEING DON?!" Leo screamed.

"Me," Donnie whimpered, holding back desperate sobs. "He's seeing what Draxum did to me. On the last day. When we fought...."

Mikey shrieked in agony, his eyes somehow producing twice as many tears as they had before in this one moment, pouring out for his brother's sake.

Mikey's screams were cut short, he gasped in horror. They all could assume what he'd seen. Draxum had killed Donnie in his hallucinations. Mikey went horribly pale. His eyes widened.

"No... no... no, no, no, get away get--!"

Mikey jerked suddenly. His body seized up, his eyes went wide, and then --

He fell backwards.

Back into the hold of his brothers, who caught him almost immediately.

"MIKEY!!"

Mikey didn't hear them, he simply lay in their arms.

Mikey stopped shaking. His limbs had gone slack. His body went limp. His eyes went somewhere far away from them all.

Mikey exhaled.

And he didn't inhale.

"...Mikey...?"

He didn't respond.

"What... what just happened?" Raph asked nervously.

"He didn't... he didn't just..." Leo begged, slowly placing his fingers against his neck. He paused. He tried the wrist next. He couldn't find any pulse.

"He didn't just leave us, did he?"

"...Michael...?"

Leo pounded his fist against the ground.

He wasn't going to give up his baby brother.

Leo placed his hands across Mikey's chest, applied pressure.

1, 2, 3, 4.

"Come on, Mikey, come on...!"

1, 2, 3 ,4.

1, 2, 3, 4.

"Come ON, Mikey, COME ON! I'm not letting you go!"

DvD was crying, holding himself tight as tears soaked into his shirt and vest.

"Leo, stop... Leo, he... he..."

"Leon, mate, please, he--" 'Phael reached for him, attempting to comfort.

"COME ON!" Leo shouted, refusing to give up.

1, 2, 3, 4.

1, 2, 3--

"WAKE UP!!" he sobbed.

Mikey gasped for air.

His eyes blinked wildly as he bolted upright, limbs flailing about in a mad panic. Three bodies pounced upon him, wrapping themselves around him and sobbing into him. Mikey said nothing. He simply looked around in confusion, getting his bearings and perfividly coming back to reality. He listened, but couldn't hear them. Everything was numb and strange, every sound and image baffled him. All he knew was he hadn't been here anymore. But he was here again, now. Here with his brothers.

... I did not intend for this ...

Yes, I intended to send the spores.

And yes, I intended to have them sent after Donatello.

I even intended for them to miss him entirely, for Michelangelo to rush in his place and take the hit for him.

But I never intended this.

Michelangelo was meant to see a different fear entirely.

Michelangelo is afraid of being the frailest, the smallest, the weakest of the brood. Dear little Mikey is afraid that he has nothing of importance to offer. He is always relying on the others to help him, to save him. He has nothing to offer them in return. Mikey tries to do what he can, but deep down he is afraid that one of these days, his brothers will discover that HE needs THEM far more than they could ever need him.

Truly, THAT was what he was meant to see. I had no idea he would see... all that.

They told me no one would get hurt. They told me no one would die. They promised me. And they lied.

It was a good game while it lasted. But I'm not having fun with it anymore.

No one was meant to be hurt like this.

No one was meant to die.

I suppose this means I'll have to do what I can to fix things, now.

"L-Leo," croaked Mikey, who slowly raised his hand and pointed a trembling finger. "Hand…"

“What... what are you saying, Mike?"

“Hand,” Mikey clarified, stressing his wobbly finger as he gestured behind them.

The boys followed Mikey's direction.

The Hand.PNG was crawling towards them.

"G-Get it away from Mikey!" Leo screamed, kicking his feet in the creature's direction.

"Don't let it come any closer!"

"WHERE'S MY TECH-BŌ?!"

"Please, if you could simply pause for a moment, I'd like to make you an offer."

Everything stopped.

Leo, Raph, Donnie, and Mikey froze, jaws dropping to the floor as they heard the hand speak at them.

"You... y-you can talk?" Mikey's voice came out grated and raspy.

"Yes."

"What... why are you just deciding to speak now?" Raphael asked.

"And why have you been tormenting us all?!" Donnie bellowed, gripping his tech-bō tightly as possible.

"And what did you mean, you wanted to make an offer?" Leon interrupted. "An offer for what?"

"I was wondering if I could offer you my services. How would you like to rescue your family and destroy the fear fungus?”

108 notes · View notes

rats-and-robots · 2 months

Text

Hi. This is gore for gore's sake. Dead dove. Do not eat. I am not kidding. Please trust me. Read the tags.

With that said;

Tervantias the Archmachinator, for all his pride, knows he isn't perfect. For all he boasts, there is always more to learn. New instruments begging to be tuned to his songs, his ever-changing collection of pitches and tunes. And yet his claws always ache to primal urges when something refuses to fall into place.

Bones crack and crunch.

Blood bubbles out of the poor thing's nose as the beast above it buries into its gut, coating its snout with gore.

Claws press at yet-unbroken flesh to give leverage as it pulls at muscle. It twists its head and yanks. Once. Twice. A third time and the meat comes free.

The body of the prey lay motionless, save for the motions of its predator. A sharp snort through reptilian nostrils and the beast lifts its snout to throw the meat back into its gullet.

The arena is filled with chatter and meaningless laughter about the show that has just finished. A few souls glance anxiously his way as he leans forward, towards the display. His head still, but his ever twitching, ever moving body continues its motions.

So that creation needed... Just a touch of tweaking. A metal hand taps rapidly on a flesh one, like the dancing legs of a spider. Interesting.

His mind is already spinning, never stopping, but it churns just a touch faster. A third hand raises to his face, metal claws slipping in and around the wet musculature. The sting is but a strum of a string to the symphony of sensation that plays in his whole self. A background song of pain and ache and burn and pleasure to every movement he makes.

Someone speaks to him. He mutters some words to appease them and urge them to leave him alone, his pitch eyes never leaving the beast and his imperfect creature's corpse.

He steps back, his gaze finally ripping away. The same gaze turns into a flurry of movement, twitching this way and that as he considers, contemplates... Not really looking where he is going but moving with a grace unusual even to those around him. His own... 'kin', would he even deign to call them that. He pushes a finger through his cheek-flesh-muscle and groans softly as the fresh puncture sharpens his thoughts.

He has an idea for how to improve his design. He'll need certain parts, though. And they are no cheap thing to get. His servants will scavenge what they can, but...

He slides back into his sanctum, his home, his orchestra hall. A sigh pushes out from his chest, the red muscles of his torso glistening as it relaxes ever so faintly. Frantic movements become more organized. His claw retreats from the wound in his face, a mere bead of blood expressing itself from the muscle. The sounds around him, the ever so faint hiss of mechanics, the groans of pain, the mad laughter, the... Everything. It's too much to put to words. It's not perfect. Perfection is such a boring state, anyways.

Claws slide through his hair, smearing the faintest of red through the silver, and three other arms make silent but strict orders to those around him. He has work to do and he will lose himself in it for a few hours more. First, however, is the poor soul who happens to be closest to his claws. He does like to think himself immune to the frustration of failure; a savage, beastly emotion so beneath one as he. Unfortunately, 'likes to think' does not make something a fact.

He moves without seeing, lips pressed into a thin line. A sharp jab silences the flesh-thing, a single tool cutting through armor, skin, flesh, fat, muscle, tendon, and cord. The screaming becomes hollow gasping. Viscera of veins bulging like blue and red spiderwebs, yet not quite bursting as he peels back layers. Cuts that look jagged, yet expertly avoid any major vessels to curb excessive bloodshed.

Yes, the scene is gory... But too much blood spilled would make this far too messy. What's the point in art if you can't see it? In music muffled under cloth so thick to drown it out? It's a song he has played many times before, one that may not carry the same joy as the first listen, but still instills him with some level of calm. So many layers of excess in these beasts, yet it was Aeldari who birthed Sai'lanthresh?

Epidermis peeled from dermis peeled from fat peeled from muscle. Tendons quietly clipped to free spasming and contracting musculature from bone. The creature wheezes and thrashes, but his cuts remain precise. This is no experiment, no delicate procedure. This is but a collection and dissection. No need to restrain or subdue the thing, much less waste any of his toxins to still them.

It twists and falls off his table. He merely blinks and turns to place the extracted muscles into a secondary pan. His claws click quietly and he glides around the table to pluck their spasming form off the ground, setting them back on the table. Some organ has burst so fluid and mucus leave a slime trail from the ground to the table. The stench is but a rise in the chorus and he clicks his tongue. Blood has begun to spill more readily, ripped from its veins by the thing's thrashing. All the more reason to finish quickly and--

The door beyond his curtain is opened, then closed. His lips peel back from his teeth in a grimace, but he chooses to feign ignorance of the visitor. He moves to instead begin extracting bone, the creature letting out a whistle-like noise as it arches... Then falls still. Shock, likely. Normally, he would reawaken them with a jolt or an injection, but his attention is more on the light footsteps drawing near to him as he recognizes them.

Ah...

This could be interesting.

"Aezyrraesh." He clicks his teeth with the name.

"Frustrated, Tervantias? At least this time your new experiment made it to the finale, ah?" The Dracon's words carry amusement and taunt, but it bothers him none. His eyes stay on his little project, only a slow blink to even acknowledge the man had even said anything.

"What do you want?"

"..." That isn't the response Marazhai had wanted, this he knows. The pause and the faintest sound of grinding teeth only confirm that, "I need a favor. A control worm--"

It's such a pathetic request that the haemonculus laughs. His head tilts up and finally twists towards the Dracon, "Is it truly so hard for one pathetic worm to find another?"

Marazhai seethes, lips curled back in a snarl, but catches himself, "I need one of custom make." His eyes flick over the haemonculus as the conductor straightens his back, "One for the mon-keigh who continues to predict our movements."

Tervantias tilts his head, contemplating this. Beneath him, without assistance, the creature under his claws expels its life and its previous meal. Boredly, he looks down at it, then carelessly hooks a finger under it and flips it off of the table, back to the place it had previously occupied on the ground. The smears left behind reek of bile and pus. He waves to an assistant to clean it and the body up, "Why should I waste my talents making something for some mon-keigh creature?"

Marazhai's jaw clenches, "The Reaving Tempest is falling out of favor and respect--" Tervantias turns towards him slowly, head tilting, mechanics twitching, muscle glistening, "--w-with the other Kabals because of its meddling, and if that happens then--" the haemonculus draws closer to him, one hand spinning a syringe of some kind, another cutting a fresh laceration into his own skin, the final two sliding behind his back, "--then... You do as well..." Marazhai doesn't realize he's been shrinking away, slowly stepping back until his heel hit the metal of the other table.

Marazhai has always been such an entertaining plaything. Had another been chosen as Dracon, he might not be so bold to approach the second of his patron's command. But that faint glimmer in the back of his eyes as the haemonculus towers over him. He was not one to own, but to be owned. He just has yet to realize it.

"Reason for you, yes... But I can find another patron. This bothers me little. So I will ask again." He leans over the shorter drukhari, his half-lips sliding into a smirk, "Why should I make this... For you?" The bloodied hand that left a deep cut in his pale skin comes forward and presses up under his jaw, the blooded finger swiping across the pale skin of his cheek and leaving a broken smear of red.

Marazhai squirms like the very wriggling grub he desires to commission from the Archmachinator. But his tongue swipes across his sharp teeth, "I could bring you more parts for your beasts," the hand tightens and Tervantias's expression doesn't budge, "gift you the others of the mon-keigh's crew," white hair falls in a cascade onto Marazhai's shoulder as Tervantias tilts his head one way, "...what else would you have from me for such a simple little request??" Marazhai hisses up at him, hands bracing on the table behind him.

"I will have both of these things... And I will have a revisit to your anatomy, Dracon. You ask me to lower myself to such a task and so you, yourself, shall also be lowered."

With a twist of his wrist and a swift strike, the haemonculus stabs the syringe into Marazhai's throat. He revels, for a second, in the shocked gag before his thumb presses the plunger down. He leans in, watching the green liquid color veins and open them up, spreading faster as Marazhai's heart quickens. He slides the tool out and sets it aside, watching the puncture hold the fluid well.

"Let us begin. Don't act as though you will not take pleasure in this." He loosens his grip, but his other hands abandon their post behind his back to come forward and begin to carelessly remove his armor, "You requested these depths before." He motions with the hand previously holding the syringe to a servant of his.

Marazhai hisses and curses him, his hands clawing at the haemonculus's arm, but... Tervantias knows he isn't really giving it his all. His blade is easily in reach, after all. Another table is brought forth, this one angled upwards. The Dracon's back hits the metal and hands swiftly secure him down.

The Archmachinator hums, pleased, and moves away to collect his tools, taking his sweet time as Marazhai fights the inevitable flow of the toxin. It's somewhat impressive that he hasn't screamed yet--

...Ahhh...

There it is. A smile twists the exposed muscles of his face into a grimace as the toxin finds Marazhai's heart and the man's scream rips through and echoes in the air of his Opera. His eyes slip shut for a moment, contemplating his options as his newest specimen thrashed and cursed him. He could check on his previous addition to the young man. See how well the new tissue was settled in.

He opens his eyes and turns to look at his subject--no longer Marazhai to him, but another project, another song to compose. He is on his back, it will be no small task to cut through his body to get to his spine. All the more fun. His claws wrap around three tools; A saw of some make, two clamps, and a gun-like machine.

His claws are his scalpels. He sets upon the man with practiced ease. Without fanfare, a Y-incision is cut. Skin peeled back. The gun-thing is put to use firing pins through the skin and into the table, holding him open like the wings of a beetle on a collector's wall.

Just as with the pitiful creature before, Tervantias ignores his subject's thrashing. This one is restrained, though, and it makes for easier cutting of muscle. Not for extraction, of course. No, this one will have to be put back together.

Sheets of muscle are pinned as well, the rippling striations and folded groups reminiscent of bird wings. A glance upwards as Marazhai stills. His eyes are distant, his jaw clenched tight. Drool trickling down in a steady stream from one corner of his mouth. Tears bead up in the corners of his eyes. He must be desperate not to let them fall. It isn't the cutting doing this to him. No, he has been wounded so before, gutted thoroughly before. He would not shed tears, even in pain, for something so simple as a wound.

No, it is the toxin. Causing certain glands to release more than they should. We, as humans, would call similarities to these releases as adrenaline, dopamine, endorphins. Tears simply follow suit and his drool is but a by-product. Marazhai is feeling everything... Tenfold. No, twenty. A hundred, if not ever more.

A whimper spills from the proud Dracon and Tervantias laughs, "So soon? A proud beast turned to mewling. And I've not yet touched your guts."

"Wh-what did you... What did you do to me...?" The tone was meant to be that of anger, or even fury... But desperation comes instead. He does not admit his sick delight in the haemonculus's claws.

The Archmachinator does not respond. Instead, the saw comes to its duty. It slices away the bone of the man's ribcage, eventually allowing their release on the subject's cavity. Marazhai gags on his screams. They bleed, in spades, they bleed. It spurts in wet fountains, painting the tool and the metal and gore of Marazhai's flayed hide.

"You make a fine distraction, Marazhai." His voice, calm and even, still cuts through the buzz of the saw. He stops only when he can remove the sternum as if a simple lid on a specimen jar. He sets it aside. His claws gently move through the man's organs, testing the connective tissue that holds them in place, his flesh hand soiled by the blood of his ribcage.

"A pathetic Dracon, but a deliriously fine specimen." He expertly carves one organ from the others, without disrupting its function. He twists it delicately to set aside, then moves to another. Again. And again.

And he speaks as he does it, "Truly, I have considered bartering with your sister for you. Every new request she has..." He slips metal fingers around Marazhai's heart, feeling its rapid pulse, unable to beat any faster. He leans over, "Your name dances on my tongue."

He pulls on the organ, watching the thick veins and arteries pull like a wet rope out of his body, blood drooling from any little nick in the membranes. He tilts his head, eyes flicking up to Marazhai's face. His turquoise eyes have paled with pain. Nearly a silver-blue. His pupils are mere pinpricks as he just stares back at Tervantias.

"You are no leading figure. You are but a toy." He presses the organ to his lips, teeth taunting the ever-moving muscle. His tongue slides over it. He could easily bite. Simply resurrect Marazhai after he bleeds out... But the expression on his face... He cannot help but revel in it. Blank. Obedient. Malleable. He chuckles, the sound reverberating in the opera house, before setting the heart aside.

He considers Marazhai's form for a moment. Almost mechanical, how his organs' connections--veins, nerves, tissue, and arteries, all--bend like cords back into his body. He can see the shimmer of his modification in the pool of blood that is the man's chest cavity, all but emptied of viscera. He turns to a small device, a pump of sorts, and begins to drain that pool, letting him have a closer look.

For all his fun, he does have a goal. His claws gently run along his spine. Tilts his head one way... Then another. The augment has bonded quite nicely. Though there is a bit of misalignment here... He clicks his metal claws and picks up a pair of forceps, cutting open the thin membrane protecting the shimmering white nervous augment and holding it open with the forceps. Delicately, he pulls four inches of tiny wires like worms out from the soil of Marazhai's tissues. They squirm in his grasp like them, too, searching to grasp onto something, anything. He moves them slightly upwards, and they shoot back in, spreading out and settling again.

Marazhai's right arm will function just slightly better. Not that the man would notice, nor appreciate it. Not that Tervantias does it for his benefit. He does it to see it put in its proper place. He releases the forceps and continues his slow examination of the spine through the chest. One nerve-set at a time.

His long hair falls into the cavity one strand at a time, a trickle of white stained with blood.

Marazhai groans above him. A claw flicks and stabs into the man's thigh, drawing that groan into a raspy moan. A thin tongue slips out and licks fresh moisture onto exposed fangs, but he says nothing. He continues his observations, but slowly drags that claw, carving the shape of the muscle beneath into the flesh. Marazhai's voice pitches slightly higher, cracking.

"I knew you would find yourself enjoying this." Metal clicks and chemicals hiss. He injects more of that concoction into the man's shoulder, causing him to spasm. His wrists strain at metal and his flesh tears at the pins--though they hold. His knees draw upwards, stopped only by two of the haemonculus's hands to keep them out of the way. He acknowledges it no further, but leans back a bit. One by one, he pulls the organs back to their places. Slides a fluid along them to repair connective tissues he had expertly severed. Pain slowly ebbs away from the man and he whines his protest.

"Be silent. This is for my enjoyment." He looms his face close to Marazhai's, "Not yours." A taunting smile, and he returns to his task. Diaphragm folded back into place. Bone seamlessly mended back to bone. Muscle tissue reattached. Marazhai began to snap insults at him, just now feeling the height of the second wave of the injections, but they have no sting. Flesh returns to its place, and no scar is left behind. He trails a finger down the man's chest, then flicks it away, snapping for a servant to release the man's binds.

He hears rather than sees Marazhai's body crumple off of the table as he turns his back.

"You will have your control worm, Dracon Aezyrraesh." He waves a hand, "Put your armor back on and crawl back to your Kabal. I will send you word when it is done."

"You fucking bastard, you can't--"

"I took my payment, Aezyrraesh. Be grateful I did not take more. I would happily risk your sister's wrath for more."

Silence. Well, as silent as the Anatomical Opera would allow in its gullet. He tilts his head as he plucks an egg from a jar, pulling various syringes and tools from different shelves to begin modifying the embryo within.

Silence is interrupted. The attempts that Marazhai makes to move under the influence of his toxins are amusing to listen to. He silently adds finding an extension to the toxin's effects to his eternal list of projects.

He doesn't even glance over his shoulder as he hears Marazhai finally move to attempt putting his armor back on. He knows the man desires attention, even a look of disgust or annoyance, and he will deny him even that. He will bask in the man's suffering for it. He does tilt his head a bit as he hears a heave and a splatter. A groan. He chuckles despite himself.

Marazhai hisses a final insult before stumbling towards the curtains, towards the exit. What a shame. He had somewhat hoped for some begging. He can only laugh to himself at the thought of Marazhai goring himself later to try and chase what he had given him. To satiate himself. His eyes finally turn, easily finding a hole in the curtain to watch Marazhai's back as he shoves himself through the door out.

His backplates are crooked.

Tervantias clicks his fingers in a snap, "Someone clean up that mess."

#cw gore #cw fictional self harm #cw vomit #cw surgery #cw body horror #cw sadism #cw masochism #cw noncon #as... consensual gore is definitely a thing in this universe to this species #tervantias the archmachinator #marazhai aezyrraesh #tervantias/marazhai #sub!marazhai #man *I* need a cigarette after this #lmk if i need to add more tags #i think i covered it all

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