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ellemany · 1 year

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Stressed Out - Chapter IV

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Space-Time

Recommended Music: Idfc - Blackbear

Someone's perception of time can vary depending on where that person is located in space, and these two physical concepts are intrinsically connected.

The Viper object, seeing herself placed far away from the Chamber object, begins to perceive and reflect on the time spent with him from a new perspective.

If complaining was a sport, Viper would be Olympic champion. And the topic that most yielded complains to her was Chamber.

She complained about his bad musical taste. She complained about how she had to wait for him getting ready for missions. She complained about how needy he was, looking like a needy cat, asking her for affection whenever he could. She complained about how he couldn’t be quiet, breaking her moments of silence and concentration.

The first day after the fight, Viper enjoyed the apparent peace that was not having Chamber messing with her every two minutes. Her heart still ached with remorse but... Hey! He's the one who freaked out for nothing! She wasn't going to be sad because a guy who screamed with her like that. She would take advantage of the fact that he was really a coward who didn't even cross her path the next day. How nice it was not to have someone who was practically glued on her; someone who didn't keep talking all the time. It was like everything went back to the way it was before. Peaceful and controlled.

But at night, when she lay in her bed longing for sleep, her head was chaotic, filled with thoughts about the fight. She reviewed the two's lines pragmatically, enumerating each of Chamber's mistakes and muttering to herself that he was a stealthy asshole, who didn't deserve all the attention her brain was giving him. In her head, she would have said a lot more to hurt him the way he hurt her. If she’d seen him the next day, she'd have shot him with harsh, cruel words. And she was especially good at it.

However, after two days without Chamber, she started to miss the good stuff.

He didn't make her coffee anymore, just for him. Which was a particular torture, as the strong smell flooded the lab, leaving her with water in her mouth. And she had never learned to make coffee the specific way he did, putting something that gave a different taste. Chamber didn't leave any Snickers in one of the places she knew, and she almost had an abstinence crisis if she hadn't found one on her desk. When he spoke to her, he was cold and professional, as if she were nothing but another agent. She responded in the same way, feeling that he wanted her miles away. Her face showed no emotion, but her heart was tearing by the way he spoke, without wanting to look her in the eye. She missed talking excitedly about their project; about how she would help him improve his weapons with her poisons. She forced herself out of the lab, unable to stay longer in that unjust environment. Viper left Chamber working alone, thinking it might be her turn to kiss him in the back of the head, warning him that it was time to take a break. But she wasn't going to admit that she was missing him. Even though she wanted that torture end.

When she lay in bed that night, her mind was haunted by the simplest and most childish questions: "Why did he speak to me like that? Why doesn't he want me around? Why doesn't he just apologize?"

On the third day, Viper noticed that she even liked some of his songs. Now, he listened music with his earpods, pretending that they didn't share the same space. Chamber used to snug on her shoulder after missions to receive a caress for a successful mission. Now he was sitting on the other side of the plane. Viper realized she missed his breath on her shoulder, their hands embedded and the smell of his cologne. And his silence to her wasn’t peaceful. It was tense and full of unspoken words. She missed his complicated explanations and his horrible jokes.

Viper realized that she was about to collapse with longing on the night of the third day, turning around in bed at dawn. What a ridiculous thing she was. Losing sleep because a man who worth nothing. With a heart broken by the way he did or didn’t speak to her.

The fourth day was coincidentally their day to watching a movie together. It was his turn to choose, and Viper spent the day wondering what he would have chosen. She recalled that he always made a different pie for them eat during the film and it were all delicious. She thought she really wanted to tell him to shut up because she wanted to pay attention on the film, and he was commenting on how a scene reminded him of some episode of his life. Viper wished she could feel Chamber's head on her lap and his hair on her fingers. She realized she desperately needed him to look at her in that passionate way, send her a funny line and kiss her while making love on the couch, forgetting again that they should see the movie.

Living with Chamber could be a constant irritation.

But Viper realized that living without him was stressful, torturous and... Boring.

For heaven's sake, she wanted him back.

- Hey, Vipes! - Fade spoke walking towards her with Reyna by her side. Viper turned her head slightly in the direction of the other. - Do you want to get something to eat with us?

Viper didn't respond, looking at his side of the lab. He had made the Newton's pendulum stop and the balls were eternally in green and orange. Viper wondered if the noise had begun to bother him. It was a little annoying, but, like Chamber, Viper got used with the sound. The lack of that sound had left a void, as well as the longing she felt for the French man's idiotic comments.

-Viper? - Reyna approached the other one, touching her shoulder.

Viper bristled, turning her head promptly in Reyna’s direction. She lowered her shoulders, realizing who was.

- Oh… - Viper let go of the air, returning to write on a clipboard. - Do you need something?

- Do you want to eat with us? - Fade repeated as Reyna crossed her arms, looking at Viper. - We were thinking of ordering Italian food. You like it, don't you? - Viper took a deep breath, wondering if he still even liked food. It's been four days since she ate anything but those lasagna she refused to heat up for Chamber. Maybe it was a better option than that complicated dish she tried to prepare. – Look! - Fade took her cell phone, reading the options. - There's artesian pizza, noodles, gnocchi, risot...

-No. - Viper interrupted the other one, fulminating her with her gaze.

- What's wrong with risot...

-Fade. No.

Fade made a peck, since she really wanted to eat risotto. Reyna narrowed her eyes.

- You've been acting weird the last few days... In an abnormal way.

- I don't. - Viper turned to the clipboard, turning her back for them. - Thanks for the offer, but I need to sort this out.

- Where's Chamber? - Fade watched his side of the lab, making a beak. - Does he make us riso...

- For God's sake Fade, stop talking about risotto! - Viper threw the clipboard at the table. - Nobody wants risotto! Nobody likes risotto! It's just a fucking expensive and tricky rice to make that's not worth the effort and time spent! - She went to some test tubes, picking one up with a green substance and turning in her hand. - You put everything you have to put right in that damn pot and mix and mix and mix but it doesn't get anywhere because it's going to stay sticky and weird and with bizarre taste. But it's because you made the fucking risotto! Because when everyone makes the risotto taste great! But when you want to make a yummy risotto, it gets spoiled crap! - The liquid began to glow slightly as Viper spoke. - Then you put wine in the risotto. Because wine improve everything, right? No! It doesn't get any better! Wine just makes you angrier about that horrible risotto you should never have done! – Viper, in her irritation, hit her hand with the test tube on the table. The object broke.

She screamed instantly, with the glass cutting off her hand and the acid running through her skin.

- MIERDA VIPER! - Reyna went to Viper, along with Fade.

- CAREFUL CAAA- Viper tried to keep the two away from the acid, but the liquid spread in her hand, corroding a part of her arm along. Viper cried out in pain, shrinking.

-Sage? - Reyna held Viper near her, looking at Fade.

-Sage. - She nodded, running with her to the infirmary

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#valorant #valorant fanfiction #valorant viper #valorant chamber #Chiper #Bitemark #Stressed Out #Chapter IV #me trying

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sp0o0kylights · 6 months

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Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms.

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans.

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at.

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming.

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme.

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym.

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel.

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give.

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures.

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.)

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds.

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious. “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.”

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was.

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it.

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome.

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again.

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!”

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!”

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s.

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!”

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.”

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise.

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for.

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.)

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con.

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.”

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of;

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all.

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.”

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself black up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this.

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game.

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all.

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.)

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly.

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

“Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?”

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of a few silly images.”

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room.

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!”

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air.

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking.

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!”

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed.

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.)

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway.

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.”

Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.”

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

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