#*insert we gonna step outside step outside for what we gonna fight meme* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

owlsoldwritingcorner · 4 years

Text

The Ghost (Part 2)

Pairing :Wrench x Reader

AO3 Link

Summary:

“So. You a big fan of hackers?”

“I guess you can say that. ” You may not be able to make a coherent string of codes but you know that vague code speak means: He’s in the group.

Note:

Here's the look reader has in this chapter!

(The helmet and biker suit is the main canonical look reader has cuz it's important to the fic, underneath you can insert your own look)

Chapter 2: Fresh Air and Graffiti

You woke up to the smell of your grandmother’s cooking, checking your phone revealed it was 8 in the damn morning. God you weren’t ready for the strong smells so early in the morning. Looks like Ripley wasn’t either considering she was already away and giving you her big ole puppy eyes that just scream “Walk time? Walk time!”.

Such a sweetie.

“Let’s get you some breakfast first before we can think of any w-a-l-k-i-e-s, alrighty?” Oh gosh, she gave you a little nod and a gentle ruff, you’re gonna get killed by the cuteness of a pup. Not by any of those burly men with guns that you’re so used to on the job, and obviously, you welcome this kind of death with open arms.

Getting up, you cleaned yourself up from the rest of your grogginess and went to the kitchen to fill up Ripley’s food bowl but not before taking a puff of your daily asthma medicine.

Gah… The smell of dried fish was getting more and more prominent now. The dried fish your grandma makes for the conge tastes so good but god it smells like the ocean flooded the house and dried up.

“Mom! Did you really have to make that fish so early in the morning?” Looks like your aunt was up and at ‘em too now. Strong smells always did make her grumpier.

“ It takes so long to fully seep and cook this fish so I should just cook it now! ” Your aunt looked as if she was going to pop a blood vessel already.

“Mom. Now the whole house smells like fish. You could have made it tomorrow or even later today!” You just sighed as your aunt and grandma argued, you really didn’t want a headache so early in the morning…

Ripley was done eating her breakfast so it was time to go for some walkies. Maybe Ripley will make some friends in this neighborhood? You brought out some body spray for yourself to put on once you’re out of the house, your emergency inhaler, then finally you put the pit-bull on her leash. Hopefully a walk around will ease your headache a bit.

So far so good.

It was sunny and surprisingly nice out, your little pup was letting out some energy and you got some fresh air. You finally arrived at a small dog park, certainly not the park Clara told you about. That hideout is about 20 more minutes away from where you’re currently at.

You sat at one of the benches to give your feet some rest, your little pit-bull laid down next to you on the bench, her head on your lap and wanting you to pet her as you two relaxed. You smiled before slowly starting to go into a daze, your eyelids drooped a bit from the nice temperature and your little friend snored away on your lap before your mind finally started to dream away as you stared into space.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Run.

You needed to run.

You have to get out of here.

Opaque silhouettes slithered after you, their limbs contorting as they ran on all fours, letting out whaling cries as if trying to coax you into stopping. Its grotesque body leaving mucus in its wake.

But it didn’t work.

It only made you run faster.

Faster and faster until--

You choked.

The air was knocked out of you as one of the silhouette’s slimy, long arms grabbed one of your legs causing you to fall forward. You tried to crawl away, your nails scratching the concrete below to no avail. You looked behind you to see the mass of disgusting limbs catching up to you, still holding onto your captive leg.

As you continue to try to get away from the creature, you see another silhouette step in front of you and kneel down, and outstretched as if saying “Here. Let me help you up”. This one was different from the ones trying to chase you, they weren’t contorted or slimy nor did they have any extra limbs on their body.

You were so close to reaching for that gentle hand when--

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Excuse me?” You woke up from your daydream by that new voice trying to get your attention. Looking up, you see a man (probably just a couple years older than you) wearing dark lensed glasses and had a light moustache and a soul patch. You also noted the shirt he wore.

Dedsec.

You wanted to snort. The Chicago branch would instantly kick that person out for wearing something so blatant. They’d hate seeing their name with a face.

“Hey, uh, sorry for intruding, I just wanted to pet your dog. Don’t really see many Pitbulls in this neighborhood.” You raised an eyebrow, most people would be terrified of Ripley and cross the street from you two (Granted, she is a big dog with large scars and cropped ears, you can’t fully blame them for being intimidated.) But you gave the man a little nod, he seemed nice enough.

“Sure, she’d love the attention.” The man immediately went to work, giving Ripley little scratches behind her ears, cooing as she gave him some kisses.

“What’s her name?”

“Ripley.”

“As in Ellen Louise Ripley ?”

“Yep. They’re both super tough, so, I just named her accordingly.” You mumbled, god it’s been so long since you had social interaction with a new human. The man just chuckled.

“I can tell, she definitely looks like she been through some stuff.”

You let out a little hum, “She was rescued from one of those dog fighting rings.” He nodded.

“Poor girl. Looks like she’s in better hands now though.” You chuckled as you scratched behind Ripley’s cropped ears, your eyes wandered back to the man’s Dedsec shirt. Honestly you can’t tell if he’s just a big fan or actually part of the group.

“So. You a big fan of hackers?”

“I guess you can say that. You into what Dedsec has to say?” You may not be able to make a coherent string of codes but you know that vague code speak means: He’s in the group.

“They have some good points. Highlighting vulnerabilities and weaknesses in the CTOS systems, showcasing how Blume truly acts. It’s like embarrassing the prom king on stage, I’m all for that.” The man raised his eyebrows and chuckled.

“You seem to have your share of Dedsec knowledge.”

“I’m from Chicago, they’re a pretty big deal there too. Dunno about here.”

“That explains it. Heard they released some pretty big blackmail over there.” You gave the man a nonchalant hum. Dedsec’s blackmail, huh? Aiden did most of the work though…

“I heard that too.”

Checking the time it was already almost 12 pm, that fuckin online college got you on a damn leash. Plus, you were getting pretty hungry, you did skip out on breakfast in favor of feeding Ripley.

“Well, I need to be on my way now. Hope you have a nice day.”

“Oh, you too. I’m Marcus by the way. I have a feeling I might see you again.” Well that sounds only mildly ominous, but, certainly not the worst you’ve heard. The taller man reached out his hand for a handshake, to which you reluctantly shook and gave Marcus your name.

“It was nice meeting you, Marcus.”

You nudged Ripley a bit to let her know you two were heading home now only for her to whine a bit but obliging. Yeah, you don’t wanna smell like fish again but… You really needed to at least finish the week’s assignments. You gave Marcus a final goodbye wave as you walked home with your dog by your side.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You flopped onto your bed in defeat.

Why the fuck did this online school have to give you so much work every week? Well, you managed to do a few weeks worth of work and should be free earlier for Dedsec work.

Speaking of, it’s almost time to meet your new “coworkers”. It's time to suit up.

Donning your binder, biker’s helmet and suit, you made sure to test out the helmet’s voice modulator and check for any kinks. Afterwards, it was time for some real clothes! The skin tight biker suit feels pretty breezy despite you not being actually naked. At least the binder makes you look like a super buff guy, not to mention the boots give you some extra height. You really need those 3 extra inches…

Let’s see…

Pastel week? Or maybe something vintage? Or perhaps some fall colors would be nice! Sweaters always feel nice. But, it has been a while since you’ve done a punk week…

Well! It’s been decided!

Finally, you were ready for work. Giving Ripley a final forehead kiss and head pat, you headed for your destination.

Weird that a notorious hacker group put one of their hideouts in a nerdy tabletop shop. Then again, it doesn’t raise a lot of suspicion on the outside. Looking around, you see a bunch of people rolling their 20 sided dice on the tables. You always did want to play Dungeons and Dragons, never had the time to read up on it though. You walked towards the back, ignoring any wandering eyes. But no one really spoke up against you being there, they looked too scared to even try if they actually wanted to.

Aha. There was the entrance. You pushed in the pass-code Clara gave you and viola! You’re in. You took in the appearance of the entrance down the hackerspace. The graffiti is quite a look. Most of the Dedsec graffiti back home were mostly on CTOS ads or other signposts, this is a stark contrast from those dark hacker rooms in Chicago. But, you certainly didn’t mind it. Actually heading into the space itself revealed it looked more like a hacker’s man cave or hangout spot than a big name hacker group meet up room. Dedsec’s name was graffitied around every inch of the room, the table in the middle was filled with snacks, beers, and some computer equipment, and there were some really old rage comics memes near the 3d printer area.

Looks like you’re the first person here though. You sat at the sofa area, crossing your legs. God, the spaces back home needs a sofa like this instead of those rackety pull out chairs. Just as you were getting used to the appearance of… Everything. The sound of the sliding door and footsteps catches your ears. Guess it was introduction time.

Turning around and facing the first person you got to the space first, you were greeted with a familiar face.

“You guys should have seen Mr. Weak Chin’s face in perso--” The man locked eyes with you as you gave him a little wave.

Marcus. Your instincts had always been pretty on point.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” His hand was hidden behind him, probably reaching for a weapon to prepare himself from any surprise attacks. You only raise your hands to tell him you don’t mean any harm. Just as you were going to let him know why you’re here, the rest of the crew came down. Marcus wasn’t the only familiar face around here.

Your hidden eyes gazed into familiar digital Xs.

#wrench watch dogs #wrench #reader insert #Wrench x reader #marcus holloway #Watch Dogs #my art #My writing

91 notes · View notes

phandomphightclub · 5 years

Text

Round 1 Results: Prelude

a 2011-era self-insert crackfic ft. @dannyphandump, @ectolights, @babypop-phantom (mod Vic), @what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me, @dannyphantomphandom and @phantombreadproject (I hope no one is offended by this lol)

(Also known as “Mod Tali can’t curse and also repeatedly roasts herself”)

“So, uh… nice place you got,” Danny said, taking a long look at the inside of the the Denny’s. To be honest, he wished he’d taken a shorter look. What were those lights supposed to be? Some version of himself but shaped like a slug? Scratch that; he didn’t want to know. Bad enough that he noticed his human face plastered all over the curtains… with some expression that looked both void of emotion and like it was staring into his soul. He shuddered and turned back to the ghost who’d invited him to this weird place.

“Thanks!” Tali said, grinning like she hadn’t noticed his thinly-veiled concern. “Are you hungry? We’ve got some great cook in the back. Dots can even make a chocolate graveyard with a Shrek face on it-”

“NoreallyI’mfinethanks,” he said in one breath, raising his hands. He’d smelled what was coming out of that kitchen, and he was pretty sure if he valued his afterlife he should keep his distance. Except now he did pick up the savory scent of dumplings. Still, better not risk it. He wasn’t here for food, anyway.

“Uh, what I mean is, didn’t you need me for something?” He asked, seeing the disappointment on Tali’s face. She suddenly brightened again.

“Right! Come on, it’s this way.” She rolled towards the back door - were those heelys she was wearing? He’d always wanted a pair of those. His mom had been convinced he’d slip and break a bone if he’d had them. Honestly, she was probably right.

He followed the strangely excited ghost through the back door, passing some counter labeled “betting booth” on the way. What were they betting on? If the food here would kill them or not?

Once he stepped outside though, things began to make more sense. And less. How had he not seen this on his way in? The ghost zone was strange; maybe this was some kind of lair hidden from the outside. Whatever the case, where it had looked like a parking lot should be instead was a giant stadium rimmed with floodlights and football-style bleachers.

“Are you inviting me to the ghost zone’s soccer league?” Danny asked with a confused frown. Sure, he’d finally gotten on good terms with most of the ghosts he knew, but Tali and the other denizens of the Denny’s were still strangers to him. Could this all be some kind of elaborate trap? Maybe he should’ve listened to Sam and Tuck and not accepted the invite after all.

But Tali just laughed. “Not exactly.”

Suddenly another ghost flew up to them, holding a small slip of paper in their hands. Tali grinned and gave them a high-five.

“You did it?”

“Yep. We can’t have any unauthorized ghosts in the stadium.” The new ghost turned to Danny, holding out… was that an ID card? “Welcome to the Phight, Danny Phantom.”

His eyes widened as he looked down at the paper ID - his ID. Where had they gotten that picture of him? It was the same haunting one that graced the curtains of the Denny’s. Ghost Zone Identification Pass, it said at the top. Below were listed his “weapon of choice” and “most powerful skill” - ectoblasts and bad puns, respectively.

“Hey, my puns are great,” he corrected. Then he read the “additional information” also listed. “50% alive, 50% dead, and 100% ready to throw down.”

“Pretty accurate, right?” The new ghost smiled. “If you want it laminated, go talk to Lumanae over in the Phighter’s Lounge. We used all our budget on the renovations so we couldn’t afford another laminating machine.”

“Thanks, Mod Vic!” Tali called as the ghost - Vic - saluted and flew back to the top of the stadium. Danny shook his head, still as confused as before.

“Look, can you just tell me what’s going on? I’m finally on top of my schoolwork for once, but I still don’t have time to hang out at some metaphysical Denny’s all night.”

“Right, right.” Tali coughed, looking sheepish. “Sorry. I like suspense. But anyway! Welcome to the Phandom Phight Club!”

As she said that, she spread her arms wide, and the floodlights flashed on all at once. Danny flinched back from the blinding light, but not before seeing Vic give Tali a thumbs-up from high above.

“Uh, isn’t the first rule of Fight Club not to talk about Fight Club?” Danny asked with a frown. Tali sighed, apparently disappointed that he wasn’t impressed.

“It’s not that kind of fight club. It’s a crappy tumblr posting tournament-”

“A shitpost tournament,” someone called from across the stadium. Upon closer investigation, she was carrying a baguette over her shoulder like a sword for some reason. Danny was starting to wonder if this Denny’s was where Walker threw all the ghosts who were too weird for his prison.

“Yeah, what Bread said,” Tali said sheepishly. “All the Phighters threw their crappy memes at each other, but now it’s time to for them to brawl out in the ring. That’s where you come in.”

“Me?” Danny asked, a million concerns flashing through his head. “Oh no. I’m not fighting any more ghosts tonight. I already tossed the Box Ghost back in here and-”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about that.” Tali waved her hands. “We don’t want you to fight. We were just hoping you could be a guest spectator for the Phight. We kind of, uh, advertised you’d be here.”

“You - you used me for advertising?”

“Well, it’s called the Phandom Phight Club for a reason,” Tali defended, though she ruffled her hair and looked away. At first Danny thought it was out of embarrassment, but then he saw she was looking at someone. “Ectolights! Thanks,” she said, accepting a glass of milk from the waiter, who was had a sticky note stuck to her forehead.

“No problem, boss. Does Danny want anything?”

Danny sighed - as cheery as Tali seemed, he had a feeling she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. If he was going to be here for a while, he might as well get something to eat out of it.

“Did I smell dumplings in there?”

Ectolights nodded. “Dannyphantomphandom cooks them homemade.”

What kind of name was that? Whatever, it was probably better not to ask.

“I’ll take six of them,” he said instead. Ectolights jotted that down on a different sticky note, stuck it to her forehead too, and then went back into the Denny’s.

“So you’re staying?” Tali smirked.

“Yeah, sure. At least it won’t be me getting beat up for once,” he muttered under his breath. “So when’s this ‘Phight’ start?”

Suddenly the industrial-sized stadium speakers began blaring the most obnoxious mix of music he’d ever heard. So obnoxious, in fact, he wasn’t sure he could tell what it was. Like five different songs had been mashed together - through his bleeding eardrums, he caught snippets of Toto’s Africa, a saxophone, Never Gonna Give You Up, Numb by Linkin Park, something from Seinfeld, the Bill Nye theme, and even his own theme song.

“Considering what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me just started up the Phight music, I’d say now.” Tali flashed him a grin. “Ready to take your seat?”

Starting later tonight or tomorrow, we’ll be posting the results of round 1 of the Phight! Each pair of contestants will get a short writeup of their battle, as viewed by our honored guest Danny Phantom. Stay tuned!

#mod tali #writeup #round 1 results

100 notes · View notes

autumnhobbit · 5 years

Text

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17559116/chapters/41380742

"Hood here, come in, Agent A," the communications line buzzed, and Alfred quickly answered it. "Present, Master Hood. What is Batman's condition?"

"We think it's stable but who the hell knows," Jason said, exasperation leaking into the tone. "He's letting Wing and Red help him, somewhat reluctantly. But he's being a total ass. Sorry not sorry," he tacked on.

Alfred sighed. "Considering the circumstances, I will not hold it against you, Master Hood." He pursed his lips as he walked towards the medical bay to prepare it for their arrival. He’d heard the undercurrent of stress in Jason’s words. “And I may even be persuaded to privately admit that I am inclined to agree with the sentiment."

Jason huffed a half-laugh, the sound echoing fuzzily in the comms. "You know him better than anyone, A."

"That I do, Master Hood," Alfred sighed, shaking his head even as he wheeled a few machines closer to the gurney, reclined the bed so it would be ready when they returned. "That I do."

"...I've gotta go," Jason said all of a sudden, more of the strain he was undoubtedly feeling leaking into his voice. "We'll be back as soon as we can. Eta thirteen minutes."

"Copy," Alfred responded, heart heavy. "I'll be waiting."

Jason disconnected the communication without another word, which left Alfred to his work. He prepared the necessary tools, retrieved a bag of Master Bruce's blood type from the fridge and attached it to an IV pole, dug out the saline and hydrogen peroxide. He washed his hands and made sure the box of sterile gloves was within reach, as well as the phone in case they wound up needing more professional help than he could provide. With that done, there was nothing to do but wait for the boys to arrive with their patient.

It was only a few more minutes before the distant rumbling of engines signaled their return, and Alfred brought the gurney out to right outside the parking spaces.

The door was thrown open, and Master Damian was the first one out, staggering a bit as he landed on his feet as he spun and held the door open. Next was Timothy, who exited a bit more slowly than his younger brother. He stood next to the door, arms raised and ready to help guide the injured party out of the vehicle. And finally, Jason slipped out of the car. Bruce's arm was draped across his shoulder, his head hanging against Jason's chest. Dick clambered out of the driver’s seat, and quickly ran to Bruce and Jason, and pulled Bruce's other arm around his own shoulders.

"Will you survive, Master Bruce, or must I retrieve the will from the safe-deposit box," Alfred asked, leaving just enough point to his question to make certain he knew what trouble he was in.

Bruce didn't respond beyond a grunt mixed with a groan. Jason snorted. "I get the Corvette."

"Uh, excuse you," Dick said, mock sassily. "He expressly promised me that car for my eighteenth birthday."

"Yeah, and you're twenty-five," Jason shot back.

"I'm pretty sure the Lamborghini is mine," Tim said brightly.

"Why did Father tell me I could have it, then?" Damian asked imperiously. Tim stuck his tongue out at him.

"Meant...for you to share it," Bruce rasped, raising his head just slightly from Jason's shoulder. "Have t'....get along if you want the car."

Silence. "Father." Damian said, sounding a mix of impressed and disgusted. "You are despicable."

"--Savage," Tim said simultaneously, and the two of them looked at each other, sputtering in surprise.

"Did you? Did you just say 'despicable?' Are you Daffy Duck?"

"The most fitting word you can conjure up is 'savage!?'"

"It's a meme! I don't expect you to know it when you've just now gotten into Looney Tunes jokes! What kind of compound is Ra's running over there?"

"Hush," Bruce grunted, as Jason and Dick helped him ease down onto the gurney. "Hurts my head."

Tim and Damian both instantly closed their mouths.

"Besides," Bruce mumbled. "It makes me sad when you fight."

Jason laughed. "If you think that was a fight, you haven't been paying attention."

"That was playful banter," Dick agreed, easing Bruce's head and torso down onto the mattress.

"I...didn't mean to disturb you, Father," Damian said quietly, dipping his head a bit in shame.

"Me neither," Tim said a bit awkwardly.

Bruce huffed. "S'alright," he sighed dismissively. "m getting old, is all."

Alfred gently stepped up beside Richard, and pressed two fingers to Bruce's pulse, glancing at his wristwatch to measure the beats. Bruce lay still and blinked up at him as he did so, while Richard carefully removed the cowl, and Jason yanked his own helmet off and promptly dropped it on the floor.

"A bit irregular and thready, but mostly stable," Alfred declared after a moment, removing his hand from Bruce's neck. "Boys, if you would move him into the med bay..."

Jason and Richard didn't hesitate, Richard taking the head of the gurney to push it while Jason walked alongside and guided it in. Alfred followed, leaving Damian and Timothy behind to shower and change.

When the boys brought the gurney to a stop, Alfred bustled up alongside them and began working. With a sterile gauze and antiseptic, he began cleaning the surface abrasions and similar minor injuries. He gently wiped the blood from Bruce's forehead and cheek, while Jason cut away at the suit with a utility knife. Richard attached monitors and carefully inserted an IV into his father's arm.

The entire time, Bruce lay still and uncomplaining, blinking sluggishly up at them. Alfred suspected a concussion, and whipped a small penlight from his pocket to confirm it. Bruce cringed, a pained hiss escaping him as he clenched his blown eyes shut. Tsking, Alfred placed the light back in his pocket and donned a pair of gloves. "You are actively attempting to drive me to an early grave, aren't you," he asked, mostly to himself, carefully pressing against Bruce's neck and chest to check for injuries.

"No, Al.” Bruce mumbled. "You know that." He smiled, though it was a bit strained, his eyes still closed and face still tight with pain. "What would I do without you, anyway?"

"Heaven knows," Alfred said. Richard clicked the last connection together to set up the heart monitor, and rapid beeps immediately came from the machine. Alfred lifted his head in concern, glancing at the monitors. "Master Bruce...?"

"'M alright, Al," Bruce assured weakly. He grinned faintly, almost a grimace, and shifted one shoulder just slightly in a shrug. "...Hurts," he admitted quietly, voice thick.

Alfred sighed. "Richard, if you would please prepare the morphine pump...?"

"Already on it," Dick said, emerging from the storage closet, pushing the pole in front of him.

Alfred fixed his gaze back on Bruce, as he continued to probe him for injuries. When his hand applied deft but light pressure to one section of Bruce's ribs, Bruce's breath stuttered and the heart monitor picked up a bit.

"That one at least is definitely broken," Alfred muttered under his breath, feeling around for how extensive the damage was. Bruce's eyes were shut, and though he was trying to breathe steadily, sweat was still breaking out on his forehead. Richard finally managed to get the IV in, and he pressed the button on the pump a few times to start a dosage. Bruce finally relaxed, the tension in his shoulders loosening slightly.

"What was it, Master Richard?" Alfred asked, not looking up.

"Lead pipe," Dick said, and Jason snorted.

"Still not as bad as...you with that tire iron," Bruce said, breathless but fond, tilting his chin in the direction of Jason's snort. Jason rolled his eyes, leaning his elbow on the rail of the gurney and brushing back Bruce's sweaty bangs with deft, gentle fingers.

“Sure it wasn’t. ‘Tis but a scratch,’” Jason’s voice rose in a mock British accent.

“Right. I’ll do you for that,” Dick parroted back.

“You’ll wHAT.” Jason had been pressed into service by Alfred to hold an icepack to Bruce’s side, and gave an impersonation so indignant while bent halfway over and not looking up that Bruce snorted with laughter and immediately winced. Jason immediately looked flatly at him, long-sufferingly. “What’re you gonna do, bleed on me?” he went on, dropping his gaze back to the bruised ribs he was holding the ice pack on.

“I’m invincible.” Bruce replied, in a chipper tone that drew a high, surprised noise out of Jason.

“You’re a looney.” Alfred replied calmly, reemerging from the supply drawer with gauze and medical tape. He passed his dumbfounded grandsons, who promptly dissolved into helpless laughter, and set the supplies down primly on the adjustable table, moving to start removing the top of the suit.

Beneath the loud, obnoxious yet endearing cackling of the boys, Bruce glanced up warily, with the same hesitant expression he’d had as a misbehaving child. “You okay, Al?” He asked, in the same way he used to ask, are you mad at me.

“Of course, sir,” Alfred replied solemnly, prying the top panel off the uniform and setting it down next to the gurney. “Simply....weary of your city returning you to me like this.”

Bruce watched him studiously for a moment, doubtless trying to gauge his honesty, before slowly transitioning to sheepishness upon finding it. “It...has its issues,” he hedged.

“Understatement of the century.” Alfred sighed.

Jason, unsurprisingly, was the first to clamber up from the floor and his overblown hysterics, using Dick’s head as a crutch. “Al,” he wheezed, slightly breathless, “never change.”

Alfred arched an eyebrow. “I should hope not, Master Jason.”

Dick scrambled to prop an elbow against the floor and promptly flipped from there onto his feet, and enthusiastically wrapped a limp Bruce in an unhesitating hug. “And you never change, either.”

Bruce smiled a small but warm smile and tipped his head against his oldest’s arm in reply.

#my fic

28 notes · View notes

dailyenricopucci · 6 years

Text

Gee Pucci, Three 「Stands」?

Everyone knows Pucci has three Stands. It’s practically a meme at this point. But the problem is, with so many Stands, all three of whom throw the ‘one ability per Stand’ rule off a damn cliff, it can be hard to keep track of what they can all do. So I’m here to help with that.

Strap yourselves in, it’s gonna be a long one.

Info under the cut~

WHITESNAKE:

Destructive Power: ? Speed: D Range: ? Durability: A Precision: ? Development Potential: ?

Whitesnake, Pucci’s original Stand, was used by Pucci to peruse parts of GDSt Jail that he couldn’t access, finding and manipulating Stand users or eliminating ones he has no use for and stealing their Stands away just in case.

Strength: Whitesnake is no slouch when it comes to physical combat. Although his punching speed can’t reach the levels of Star Platinum, Whitesnake can still move much faster than a human, and punch much harder as well. An open-handed strike can easily chop through a human leg, as found out the hard way by Weather Report, and Whitesnake can also spear a human (Annasui) through the chest and still be strong enough to lift them off their feet. During his fight with Foo Fighters, Whitesnake was shown to tear his way through the engine compartment of a truck, presumably through the engine as well, another testament to his physical power.

Range: Pucci states in the Heavy Rainfall Warning arc that Whitesnake’s maximum range is 20 metres or so, and his strength only increases the closer he gets to Pucci.

Independence & Intelligence: One of Whitesnake’s quirks is that he is, in fact, fully sentient and possesses a consciousness completely separate from Pucci’s. He is cold and sinister when calm, but unlike Pucci, is very quick to explosive bursts of anger, particularly when things don’t go his way. His independence means he can do jobs for Pucci on his own volition, without Pucci having to supervise him. However, such independence has its risks, as Whitesnake will sometimes hesitate while thinking over Pucci’s orders (like being ordered to eliminate a certain adorable plankton gal). He also exhibits technical knowledge, such as skilled close combat techniques, critical thinking, and proper use of a handgun.

Discs: Whitesnake’s most notorious ability is his creation of Discs. At first glance they appear the same as a normal CD disc, but closer inspection reveals that they are completely indestructible. Bend ‘em, drop ‘em, shoot ‘em with a gun, the only way to destroy one of Pucci’s discs is to put them into a host and have the host die with the disc inside. What the Discs actually do varies depending on what kind of disc is used. Most often shown is Whitesnake compacting the memories and Stand (the soul) of a person into Discs and stealing them; the Discs can then be inserted into other people, granting them access to the memories or Stand contained by the Disc (although Stands can reject incompatible hosts, like Star Platinum rejecting Jolyne). The now Disc-less person will fall into a comatose state, during which their bodily processes will shut down and their bodies will begin to decay. Restoration of the Discs is the only cure; restoring only the Stand will leave the person alive, but lacking in any memories whatsoever, even basic functions, and restoring only the memories will still leave the individual soulless and dying. Whitesnake has also been shown to be capable of creating discs from his own body with orders imprinted into them; inserting these discs into a host, such as a prison guard or a bird, will force them to carry out those orders no matter what. Pucci has also been shown to remove his eyesight as discs, which leaves the question of whether he can remove more bodily functions, or do it to other people.

Illusion Mist: Whitesnake is capable of generating, through unknown means, a misty gas of some sort. The gas induces stupor and unconsciousness in those it envelops, making them experience vivid dreams to prevent them from realising they’ve even fallen asleep. While the victim dreams, the mist will slowly collect on their bodies and congeal into a white goo with powerful acidic properties, slowly dissolving the victims like stomach acid, just like a snake as it swallows prey. During this time, Whitesnake is free to snatch the victim’s Discs and leave them to die, a gruesome fate that took Emporio Alnino’s mother, as well as others before her. The mist can also be used to create illusions outside of dreams, as seen when FF tricked Whitesnake by making attack his own reflection in the mist, or Whitesnake wrapping the mist around himself and disguising himself as Weather Report.

Mind Control: Only seen once, Whitesnake is capable of ramming his fingers through the skull of a victim (in this case, Annasui) and taking control of their mind. In this state, the victim’s free will is eradicated, forcing them to do whatever Pucci tells them to do so long as Whitesnake’s fingers stay jammed in their brain.

---

C-MOON:

Destructive Power: Zero Speed: B Range: B Durability: ? Precision: ? Development Potential: ?

C-Moon is the next step in Whitesnake’s Pokemon evolution. Created by Whitesnake fusing the biological matter of the Green Baby and the fragment of Dio’s The World contained within into his body, C-Moon is undoubtedly a very dangerous Stand.

Strength: Don’t let Araki’s stats and Annasui’s comments fool you: C-Moon is immensely strong.With the already formidable strength of Whitesnake supplemented by The World’s power, C-Moon’s power leaves little room for mistakes when fighting him. His strength doesn’t seem to diminish as he moves away from Pucci, as C-Moon, while at least 50 metres away from Pucci, is shown to hit Jolyne and her Stand so hard the impact crumpled the ticket booth wall underneath her. Later, C-Moon punches both of Jolyne’s arms so hard they bend at very, very unhealthy angles, and before that, a classic Muda Muda from C-Moon demolishes a steel support column like tissue paper. Jolyne is pretty lucky she dodged most of C-Moon’s hits during their 1v1, because the fight would’ve been over much quicker if she hadn’t. And just in case you were wondering, C-Moon’s surface inversion takes a few moments to take effect, so all the damage listed here was purely a result of C-Moon’s raw strength. His Destructive Power is listed as ‘Zero’ or ‘None’, but that doesn’t indicate a lack of strength: it could be that C-Moon’s Destructive Power is so high that it lacks an appropriate rating altogether.

Independence: Although he doesn’t express his emotions as much as he used to, C-Moon is still capable of thinking and acting separately from Pucci. During his fight with Jolyne, C-Moon demonstrates critical thinking, using his environment and his powers to his advantage, and displays some pretty sweet MMA fighting skills. He also talks a few times, if only to inform Jolyne he’s going to kill her, and to tell Annasui to fuck off, essentially.

Range: C-Moon seems to have a range greatly exceeding that of his previous form, being at least 50 metres away from Pucci at one stage. His gravity field also extends roughly 3 kilometres.

Physical Body: Easily C-Moon’s most bizarre trait is his seemingly organic form. Jolyne is capable of hitting him by herself, without using her Stand, which shouldn’t be possible; C-Moon is also shown to bleed from injuries sustained, and said injuries don’t pass on to Pucci. Additionally, C-Moon is almost never shown levitating, as most Stands do, and he is never summoned partially; his body is always whole when manifesting, unlike some Stands who can appear as just an arm or the upper body. Given that he evolved when Pucci absorbed the Green Bay, and the fact that all that organic tissue had to go somewhere, it may well be that C-Moon is one of the only Stands with a fully tangible organic body.

Gravity Inversion Field: With Pucci as the centre, C-Moon can invert gravity in all directions away from Pucci, essentially forcing everything to fll away from him. The field has a radius of roughly 3km, extending outwards, so anything that attempting to enter the field will find itself pushing back out until they leave the field.

Gravity Manipulation: C-Moon has also shown the ability to redirect gravity at will, at least within a short distance of himself. The strength and direction of this seems to be under C-Moon’s control, as he used gravity to slam Jolyne’s arm down, crumpling the ticket booth under her (this is after the aforementioned hit, see the Strength section), and when he flung concrete tiles at Annasui at high speed by flinging them via gravity manipulation. The extent of this ability is unknown, but as long as he keeps using it to beat up Annasui, it’s fine by me.

Surface Inversion: C-Moon’s most infamous ability is Surface Inversion. The lightest touch from C-Moon’s hands can cause an object to have its gravitational centre invert itself, causing said object to quickly and violently turn inside out. This usually causes catastrophic structural damage to the object in question, like a ticket booth or Jolyne’s fingers. The effect can be reversed by C-Moon touching it again, but the damage done will remain. The power can be used strategically, as seen with C-Moon using it to change the terrain to destabilise his opponent and put himself in a better position. However, Surface Inversion really shines as an offensive power; the slightest graze from one of C-Moon’s punches turned Jolyne Kujo’s fingers inside out, crippling her hand, and a full force open-handed stab to her chest resulted in her heart turning inside out, reversing her blood flow and cutting off the oxygen to her brain (as if the massive blood loss and shock wasn’t enough). Even if he wasn’t so physically strong, C-Moon is an extremely dangerous Stand to go toe-to-toe with.

Time Acceleration: In the Jailbreak arc, we see Pucci, sick and in pain, as his Stand struggles to cope with the changes it’s undergoing. He states that it is no longer Whitesnake, indicating that this was when the transition to C-Moon was starting, and that it was no longer under his control. During this time, Pucci briefly touches a woman while helping her with her groceries; the thumb of his Stand, with the same blackstripe/GACT markings as C-Moon, appears and activates its power. The woman’s watch starts to spin at blinding speeds, and her fingernails grow dramatically in less than a second; the eggs she was holding all hatch into chicks, and worst of all, the whole left half of her baby son’s body is instantly accelerated into a full-grown adult man. This was just a precursor to Made in Heaven’s power, but since it accelerates objects on contact, and at such a massive rate, this ‘weaker’ version may be even worse... especially since it’s out of Pucci’s control.

Time Stop(?): It’s important to remember that Whitesnake absorbed a fragment of The World’s power when he evolved into C-Moon. This affected more than just his powers and his appearance; after being exposed to Jotaro’s time stop just twice, Pucci was noted to be able to move his eyes and look around in the stopped time, allowing him to make note of and -mostly- avoid the spear Jotaro threw at him. Considering that this development mimics Jotaro’s own development of time stopping during his fight with DIO, there is a very real possibility that C-Moon, given time and enough exposure to the stopped time, could have developed The World’s ability to stop time himself. As if he wasn’t OP enough already, right?

---

MADE IN HEAVEN:

Destructive Power: B Speed: Infinite Range: C Durability: A Precision: C Development Potential: A

The final stage in Whitesnake’s evolution and the final step in DIO’s master plan, Made in Heaven is, simply put, one of the most powerful Stands in existence.

Strength: Made in Heaven’s strength is still as impressive as his previous two forms, capable of bending back a palm tree with his bare hands (anyone who has tried to bend a palm tree will know this isn’t easy). His speed, combined with his strength, lends his blows a cleanliness not present in his previous forms; where Whitesnake’s strikes would roughly chop off a limb, Made in Heaven can slice through flesh and bone like a scalpel, as seen with Ermes Costello’s arms, or Jotaro Kujo’s entire head. His strength is also enough for him to be able to stab Annasui through the chest... with another Stand’s hand. He also seems to be able to lift Pucci, not unlike The World and Star Platinum did for their users in Cairo, allowing Pucci to move through the air; it’s possible, however, that Made in Heaven just threw him instead.

Range: Made in Heaven’s physical range is severely reduced, never being seen to leave Pucci’s side. However, the range of his time acceleration affects the entire universe, which is pretty impressive.

Independence(?): Made in Heaven never speaks, and is almost never seen without a calm, almost serene expression on his face, so we have little proof of him having the same sentience he had in his previous forms. However, he does exhibit frustration and anger at times, and he busts out a mean slasher smile when murdering Jolyne Kujo, so it’s up for debate really.

Time Acceleration: A vastly more powerful version of the ability possessed by C-Moon, Made in Heaven can manipulate gravity on a universal scale to speed up time exponentially. The rate at which time speeds up increases over time; early on, an hour is observed to pass in roughly two minutes, and by the time the acceleration is nearing its peak, clothes dissolve to tatters in seconds and rocks can be seen eroding in the water. Any living thing possessing a body block is unaffected by the time acceleration; bacteria and microorganisms carry on at lightning speed, but humans and animals will be left behind to behave at normal speeds. The acceleration can even affect Stand abilities, as noted by Jotaro, whose time stop was reduced in length by Pucci’s power. Speaking of Pucci, he is the exception that proves the rule; he himself is affected by the acceleration, zooming around at blinding speed. Although he isn’t technically moving faster (he’s moving at his normal speed, just over a shorter time frame), the fact that everyone else is left behind means that Pucci may as well be moving at super speed, making him almost impossible to fight.

Universal Overwrite: The concept that time has an ‘end point’ is one of the driving concepts behind Made in Heaven. The ‘end point’ in question is the point in time where time ends, loops around and starts all over again, exactly the same as the first. Made in Heaven’s acceleration hastens the cycle and brings about the reset of the universe in a matter of minutes, creating what we can call the ‘Pucciverse’. However, this overwrite functions a little like overwriting a file on a computer; once the loading bar fills up (time reaching the point where Pucci initially began accelerating), the old file is completely overwritten and can’t be retrieved, but if the loading bar is interrupted (Pucci dying before the loop completes), the old file will be restored (the old universe returning). This is the universe we see at the end of Part 6; the original universe is still here, and Parts 1-5 still happened, but something changed so that Part 6 never did, and the main cast lived different lives with different names. Why this happened isn’t clear.

Soul Memorisation: Although living things aren’t affected by the acceleration, their souls are; as time speeds up, their souls will memorise everything that should have happened to them in their lifetime. Then, once the timeline loops around and starts again, all humans will have memorised, in their souls, every single event that can occur in their lifetime. This grants them a weird ‘future sense’ like a really powerful feeling of deja vu. The principle behind this is Pucci’s philosophy of ‘peace of mind’, the idea that if humans always knew what was going to happen to them, good or bad, they would have time to come to terms with it and be at peace. This is Pucci’s idea of Heaven: a world where mankind can know its own fate and be at peace with itself. If one should die during or before the acceleration, that’s fine; their souls will still carry across into the Pucciverse, but they’re now locked into their fate. The only person exempt from this rule is Pucci, who can move and manipulate people’s fates as he pleases. Additionally, if someone is killed directly by Made in Heaven, their soul will be left behind, and their role in the time stream will be filled by a similar, but fundamentally different individual, as seen by the strange Not-Jolyne and Not-Jotaro Emporio found in GDSt. Should Pucci be killed and the Pucciverse collapse, however, those souls will be restored along with the original universe, albeit with different names and lives.

And that’s the end, folks! Hope you enjoyed it, because it took me nearly three hours to get this all typed out! If any of you learned something from this, I can consider my job done. Have a good one!

#jjba #stone ocean #enrico pucci #whitesnake (jojo)#c-moon (jojo)#made in heaven (jojo)#long post #very long post holy shit

113 notes · View notes

fallxnprxnce · 7 years

Note

Too many muses meme: 1 - 15!

UNFAIR! OMG, WTF! I SHOULD HAVE SAID SEND ONE NUMBER! XD

1. A muse that’s always easy for you to write.

Jix (@xleafyheartx), my leafling fandomless OC. He’s my only muse that I can always write on the spot and never seem to get writer’s block for. It’s probably because he’s so sweet and positive all the time that I never find myself running into issues with not wanting to write certain topics due to a bad mood or whatever. =)

2. A muse that’s often difficult for you to write.

Lacryma (@crackedbellsandsilenttears), my fandomless fantasy spell OC. She doesn’t speak unless another muse teaches her how. In fact, she doesn’t really know much about life at all. It’s just the nature of her character, heh. She learns quickly, but until she gets exposed to things and starts learning how to communicate, it’s difficult for me to get her thoughts and wants across. That she’s also very timid doesn’t help, heh.

3. A muse you want to write but feel you can’t.

Alice Abernathy from the Resident Evil movies. I love her so much and would love to write her, but because she’s one of my favorite characters I just can’t do that to her, haha. I wouldn’t do her justice at all. I’m good at writing emotional, half broken, tragic characters, but I’m not as good at writing ones with real strength. It’s a serious weakness of mine as a writer. Alice is one of those rare characters that is a blend of both. She shifts from more vulnerable and outwardly emotional to hardened and guarded with her emotions as she moves from the early movies to the later ones, but she’s always some mix of strength and vulnerability, regardless of what point in the timeline you’re talking about. I don’t feel that I would portray that sort of depth to my own standards of my Alice deserves, heh. Beyond that, I don’t think I could keep track of all the sheer number of plot lines, histories, and supporting characters that Alice encountered along the way to be able to navigate the fandom while writing her. I haven’t played any of the newer games either, so my knowledge is lacking. Fortunately, I don’t have to write her. There are a few Alices on Tumblr already, and I’ll give a shout out to @realprojectalice who writes Alice exactly how I would want to if I had the skills. She’s amazing, hit her up if you want to write your muse with Alice. =)

4. A muse you lost and really wish you could make active again.

Channe (@fxcelessqueen), my Elven/Ulaeri fandomless OC. I… have no idea where she went or what the problem is, but I want her back dammit. I’ve tried so many times, but she’s just not here right now. I think it’s been a combination of real life causing her to make herself scarce in my head of late and the fact that she does not translate to Tumblr very well at all. But I’ll keep trying, I promise, heh.

5. A muse you lost and you’re fine with leaving them inactive.

Ygritte from Game of Thrones. I never roleplayed her on Tumblr, but I have written a decent amount of fanfiction for her, and I used to really have her as a strong muse I felt very comfortable writing. She was my second favorite character behind Ned Stark. But I stopped reading aSoIaF after book 3 and stopped watching the show after season 4, and I’m out of touch with the fandom now, so I don’t really mind leaving Ygritte where she is.

6. A muse you weren’t initially very interested in writing but ended up loving.

Matt Addison (@freewillacquired) from the Resident Evil movies. I made that blog to write Nemesis initially, and I had no interest in writing Matt. I didn’t really care about him or overly like him as a character. He was just kindof a blank in my mind while watching the first movie. I did have to pay a bit more attention to him and do some studying up because he is Nemesis’ origin. Even that didn’t get me very interested in Matt. I quickly came to realize, though, that having this blog would automatically draw attention to Matt in addition to Nemesis and that people would assume I wrote both. I was this close to telling people nah, I only write Nemesis when it occurred to me that I was doing Nemmy a disservice by ignoring his human origin. So I said eh… I’ll give Matt a try and see how it goes. I totally love him now, I’m having a lot of fun writing him, and re-watching the first movie was a totally different experience recently, haha, because now I care so much about all things Matt, lol. I definitely found a muse I gel with when I wasn’t even looking and in an unexpected place. XD

7. A muse you thought you would love writing but ended up hating.

Elunae (@queenofbethmoora), my Hellboy II OC and Nuada’s mother’s ghost. I thought this was a natural character to make and that she would be interesting because nothing was ever said about Nuada’s mother. So I could kindof go nuts and do whatever I wanted. I had fun initially, but she was not well-received and I got tired of her gentle, vanilla, and often submissive personality. Eh… I just really screwed up the idea and I feel badly about it.

8. A muse you hate but write really well.

Jon Snow from Game of Thrones. (sigh) At the risk of losing like a hundred followers inside of five minutes… I really hate Jon Snow. I’m not gonna get into why or I would write thirty solid pages, but I’ve hated him from the beginning and the more he is glorified by fans and on the show, the more he survives things he never should have, the more rules his character breaks because GRRM has decided that he should be safe, and the more popularity his character gains in the fandom, the more I just want a dragon to sit on his head until he dies, heh. Having said that, in order to write the fanfiction I wanted to write about Ygritte, I needed to include Jon Snow, so he and I got very well acquainted for about a year. I did a lot of research on him, and I practiced writing him a lot before I actually started my projects. I’m happy with the way he came out, and I’ve had hardcore Jon Snow fans who know I hate him tell me how surprised they were by how well I wrote him. I’ve also had people who didn’t know me at all say they would never have guessed that I wasn’t a fan of his, heh. So apparently, even though I hate the character, I’m able to write him very well, haha.

9. A muse you love but write terribly.

Raiden (@therain-trxnsfxrmed) from the Metal Gear Solid/Rising video games. Another one of my favorite characters of all time, and I tried to make a blog for him, but omg I just suck so badly at writing him, haha. I think that’s why there’s like no activity on his blog right now. I just avoid writing him because I piss myself off with how terrible it comes out. (sigh)

10. A muse you write that’s canon but feels like an OC.

Nemesis (@freewillacquired)from the Resident Evil games/movies. I’m adding so much to Nemmy it’s not even funny. In the games, he never had a backstory. I guess we always knew he was human, since he’s an upgraded Tyrant class mutation, which come from human origins, but they never said who he used to be. He was just a mindless pain in the ass that was invincible until the final fight which… is god modding, Nemmy, and it’s rude. XD Then in the movies we got to know Matt Addison before we learned he was turned into Nemesis, which added a whole new dimension. We also saw Nemesis step out of his mindless killing machine role, reject Umbrella, remember Alice, and protect her. He never did anything like that in the games, so again, we got a little glimpse of his intelligence and his capacity to remember his human self and his old memories. Aaaaaaand then he took a helicopter to the face and got vaporized by a nuke. A minor setback, haha. But anything after that was open to interpretation, extrapolation, and good ol’ fashioned fudging. I’m adding so much as far as what he does with himself now, what his daily activities are, what he eats, what he thinks about certain things and people… it’s so much fun. As a writer, it’s super fun to be handed a scaffold, bare bones character and fill in the blanks with your own imagination. He really does feel more like an OC at times to me because I’m laying down so many layers of info outside of what was provided to me by the canon.

11. A muse you want to write but don’t because the fandom intimidates you.

Ned Stark from Game of Thrones. I actually did write him very briefly on my fanblog for the character because someone thought it was an RP blog, haha. But it was only one thread and it didn’t last long. It was a lot of fun, though. He ranks very high up there for favorite characters of all time for me and he’s a pretty easy muse for me to write personality-wise, but the fandom and many of the characters are so negative toward him that it makes me just not want to bother. They make fun of him for how he died, they call him Lawful Stupid (a term I deeply resent both as someone with a Lawful Good alignment and someone who plays D&D paladins who have been called Lawful Stupid before), they say he’s not significant because he only lasted one book/season, etc. I just don’t have the energy to always write a muse who’s getting attacked for being an honorable, good person. It irks me to no end and the fandom is just so negative about this and so many other things that I steer clear. But, if you are looking for a great Ned to write your muse with, you might try inquiring with @handofhonor. I’ve never interacted with them but I’ve been reading their RPs for a long time now and they write Ned so beautifully, it’s amazing. They really do him justice.

12. A muse whose personality is close to your own.

Channe. Originally I wrote her as an outlet to freely and safely express my own anxiety, be it social anxiety or OCD or reclusiveness or dependency issues, what have you… without actually writing myself. So she began as kindof a self-insert of my own personality inside a fantasy character with real power, unlike myself. it was a way for me to work through some personal issues, and over the years, Channe has changed as I have changed, and she’s even done better with her issues than I have, heh. This is literally the only time in all the thousands of characters I’ve written over the years where I’ve done anything close to a self-insert.

13. A muse whose personality is very different from your own.

Jix, haha. I… am a negative, pessimistic, cynical, irritable, snippy bitch, hahahaha. So how I wrote the most adorable, precious, cinnamon roll, ray of sunshine, cup of smiles, barrel of cuteness muse, I do not understand, haha. I really don’t get how Jix even came out of my dark, dank, anti-social, emo brain, hahaha. But I’m so glad he did. =)

14. A muse often misunderstood by other muses at first impression.

Aurelien (@a-very-proper-shxde), my fandomless shade OC. A shade is basically a shadow creature. A bodiless being that looks like a black cloud with red eyes who’s made of cool, negatively-charged energy. Technically, I think he qualifies a type of incorporeal undead. The problem with this… is that Aurelien was once a human paladin. As such, he is a nicest, most honorable dude you will meet, but upon seeing him, most people think he’s a demon, or at least immediately assume that he’s evil and hostile. The poor guy constantly has to defend and explain himself after little more than an innocent “hello.” Even then, some muses are wary of him and it takes a while for them to trust him.

15. Your favorite muse you’ve ever written.

Jix, again, heh. Hands down. He makes me so happy to write, he makes me happy with how other muns react to him and to the stories we write, and I love to see plots with him and other muses play out. He’s such an innocent little doot-doot and he’s just so cute you could scream in a good way, and I just love him so much. Like I said before, I have no idea how I was blessed with Jix out of the dusty, cobwebby, brain with a survival horror atmosphere that I seem to have, haha, but I’m so glad that he popped out one day and that I brought him to Tumblr. He’s too fun to write, seriously. I am considering making my upcoming NaNoWriMo project a book about Jix. =)

#all the muses #too many muses

2 notes · View notes

omega-al · 7 years

Text

The Last Rebellion - First hit of Death

Continued from

http://polychromaticat-blog.tumblr.com/post/161783493179/the-last-rebellion-bronx-runs

When the door closed, Meryl set a few small charges on the locks and around the door, assuring no one was coming through that way.

This tunnel was huge, bigger than I thought it’d be. Old media had always shown tightly packed cars or people sitting near each other in a space less than five feet across. This tunnel had to be twenty feet high. It had four sets of rails running parallel, some crossed over each other and ran off down another smaller tunnel. The old subway system, the B-line according to the yellowed paint on the walls of the tube.

Meryl displayed our path through a shared virtual experience he sent through direct link to me so know one could know our route, and in case we got separated I could still find my way. It was a five kilometer walk with some back and forth crossing because of collapsed tunnels and dead ends. We would pass under, the undercity.

“Do you think we can breath again for a while?” I said nervously.

“I sure as fuck hope so, but we don't have time for anymore, we gotta keep moving.” With that Meryl started off down the tunnel.

There was more light in this tunnel, but the grime that had built up on the covers gave everything and eerie red glow. It was wetter here, there were puddles that were so big and dark you couldn't tell how deep they were. You could step in and go in up to your knee, or maybe fall forever into oblivion. We avoided the water where we could and followed our path. Down in this darkness and quiet I couldn’t avoid my sorrow as it crept back into in my mind. Paris was dead. The woman I loved, is dead.

“Do you think she suffered Meryl?”

“No, I saw the shot, it was fatal, or at least would be quickly.”

“I don’t want to think about her bleeding out, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Meryl said nothing. “You know, I think she was working for them.” Meryl said nothing. “I mean, maybe it started out that way at least.” Meryl, nodded his head, confirming what I had been purposely blinding myself to. “It was something she said a week ago, something about the rally being a bad idea, she had been so supportive until then, gung-ho even. But she got a weird call late at night and seemed distant and sad the entire next day.” I was unloading now, I had been holding this in since she was shot. “The more I think about it, there were so many signs, things I ignored because I’m so in love with her… was, so in love with her.” Meryl said nothing. “Jeez Meryl, I am pouring my heart out here, ain’t you got any words of encouragement? Or condolences or something?” I had stopped moving and was raising my voice now.

“Would it have helped to tell you I knew she was an informant? Would you have believed me if I told you she would betray you?”

“No probably not, I think Brooklyn tried to tell me a few times, but I always avoided her words, denied Paris could do anything like that, she loved me.” I thought she loved me, she must’ve loved me at the end, she dove in front of the bullet for me, she died to protect me.

“So would it help now to tell you I am sorry the woman who tricked you into loving her, that you let her, you let her put all of us at risk because you loved her?” Meryl sounded angry, actually angry with me. He hasn’t been angry with me since the first days of school before he got all zen and focused.

“I am so sorry Meryl, I really fucked this up for everyone and here I am wallowing in my own sadness” Meryl said nothing. “Meryl I am trying to apologise here, could you at least”

“Shut up Bronx, did you see that?”

“See what?”

“There, in the water up ahead, something just moved.”

I could see the tiny ripples hitting the edges of a small lake about eight feet in front of me.

“Maybe some water just dripped down from the ceiling?” As I said this something long and black moved across the surface for a moment before disappearing beneath the waters again. Meryl put his arm across my chest and pushed me slowly backwards away from the not so still waters. When we stepped away a big black slimey tentacle came shooting out of the water and grabbed Meryl by the leg, he screamed in agony and bits of steam started rising where the tentacle was gripping him. It was burning through his pants and melting his skin, I could smell it cooking. The thing began to drag him towards the pool, so I grabbed my pistol and fired a few rounds into the giant black arm, causing it to lose it’s grip on Meryl. I grabbed him under his arms and dragged him as far away as I could before the thing I had only managed to make angry, spewed out five more black viscous tentacles towards us, I could see a green goo oozing from its suckers and a terrifying maw full of teeth just under the surface where the tentacles met. I avoided the first attempt to grab me and jumping over and rolling past it, when I came up I fired two shots into what I think might have been an eye, it was a white sacklike thing on it’s back that seemed to move and follow me as I jumped and rolled. When the sack exploded and the monster made a noise that can only be described as a pipe organ on fire. I didn’t see the tentacle come up and grab me from behind. It wrapped around my torso and gave me a searing pain that wracked my whole body and paralyzed me from the waist down. That’s when Meryl threw one of his little tech-toys at one of the tentacles that was coming in for my head, it exploded with a force that blew me backwards and blew off the tentacle it had landed on. Dark green blood and guts splashed everywhere, but I was still not free. Another one of his bombs blew near another tentacle but it was less direct and only inflicted minor damage. I fired my guns into the things disgusting fucking head and it still did not die or release me for that matter, and now I could see one of the tentacles had found Meryl and was dragging him towards the gnashing bloody mound where the mouth was. It was desperate, we were going to die and that’s when we heard... “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS QWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!”

A gang of low-tech humans with swords swung in from the darkness and attacked the thing, cut it limb from limb, laughing and screaming “YOLO” while throwing fire bombs, and yelling “MUCH WOW!” as battle cries, neither of us understood what the fuck any of this meant, but we were glad to see them. They killed the thing, eviscerated it, the pool had become a bloodbath and smelled like salty pussy.

Picking myself up as best I could, most of the feeling had returned to my legs. I had to overcoming my disgust as I removed the tentacle that was still wrapped around me, then I said boldly, “Oh wow! Thanks so much guys! You sure saved our asses there!”

The gang had been ignoring us and high-fiving before I spoke, then a few laughed and looked towards the big dude who had led the fight with the ‘yas qween’ he was cleaning his sword off on a younger gang members shirt. He didn’t stop or turn to face me. “Who are you people? And what are you doing here?” his voice was deep and gritty.

“My name is Bronx Zingaro, and we, are trying to avoid being caught by the bots.”

“Are you some of the many that have come to join our fight?”

“Umm well, no, but I am sure if you told me what your fight was, I could return the favor of you ending this one, by helping you with yours?” I was really pulling out all the charm here, I knew this gang, I knew who they might be, the MMG. The Mean Meme Gang, known terrorists and killers. They were anti-tech, most I could see didn’t have techports anywhere. Home grown humans by the looks of em, and maybe not grown with freshest material, if you get my drift.

“You fuckers are Omega, you carry your trap with you. She is in your head now.” He was damn near religious in his tone.

“We’re cut off, I made sure of that when we came down here.” Meryl offered in assurance.

“Lies, I will not trust you, but I can’t kill you, and I would very much like to kill you Omegatech scum,” He said turning to face me and sheathing his sword, “but these days you gotta see our leader first before we kill you. So I guess you’re lucky.” There was no attempt to hide his spite.

The gang members were on all sides of us with weapons drawn and we were in no shape to argue, “Ok, take us to your leader.” I said this with a jokey alien voice. Which I immediately learned was a mistake when the leader stuck me with the back of his hand, hard across my face.

“It’s not that easy, boyo, we still don’t trust you. So here’s what’s going to happen.” the gang members shoved a small plastic inhaler into our mouths and pushed down on the button, “Breath deep or we’re gonna have to insert it rectally,” he laughed. “This is Formula N, it’s gonna make you stop thinking about anything outside of yourself, you’re not gonna care what we do to you, you’re not gonna care where we’re going, and depending on what kinda person you are, you’re gonna wanna die, or you’re gonna ask me for more.” It tasted like burning chrome and made me see trails. I could hear him and the gang laughing at us as the world got dark around the edges and the emptiness set in.

“First hit of death is free!”

Then everything went black.

#earth 3077 #antitech drugs #tentacles #monsters #gangs #meme #the last rebellion #Formula N #guns #bombs #nihilism

0 notes