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dead-inside-mcgee · 5 years

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Static Part 5

I got like really into the magic/fantasy part of this story but I know what, it works.

Summary: “I don’t know! All I know is that my brother Robbie is in serious danger.” Word count: 1253

Relationships: Henrik x Chase

Henrik came to the place that couldn’t be located, only found. It was far from the town, tucked away where not even that upstart superhero and his sidekick could find.

He wandered down the long empty hallways, meant to confuse anyone who hadn’t been here for years. There was a specific path you had to take if you wanted to get where you needed to go and he was the only one who knew it.

He found himself in a small room, illuminated by the light of multiple screens on the wall, used to keep an eye on important places in the city. There in front of it all, was the Glitch himself.

The Glitch didn’t have a physical from, though that didn’t mean he couldn’t harm you physically, he was simply an ever changing mass of particles that occasionally would take a humanoid shape.

“So,” the Glitches raspy voice sounded like if a swarm of bees all learned to speak in unison, “Is the mechanic dead?”

Henrik swallowed, prepared for whatever might happen to him. “I’m afraid not, Sir.”

The Glitch laughed, or it sounded like a laugh. “And what do you know of the hero or that tryhard magician.”

“Well… Ch- the mechanic and the hero had a fight of sorts. So the hero won’t try to go after him, if we set up another trap. As for the magician I know nothing. They completely disappeared after the trap collapsed.”

There was a long silence, the only noise being the loud static coming from a few of the tvs and the Glitch himself.

Finally the Glitched laughed again, turning and staring into his soul with cold, unfeeling eyes. Henrik braced himself for whatever happened next.

“Alright Henrik! I have a brand new job for you!”

***

Chase and JJ’s conversation lasted into the early morning. Chase tried his best to explain what exactly what happened, but that failed and the whole conversation turned into JJ trying to cheer him up.

“How's your whole acting career going anyway? Things been working out for you?”

“Yes. Tomorrow we’re wrapping up filming on my latest project. I’m quite excited.”

“Tomorrow?” Chase glanced up at the clock. “You mean like later today?”

Jameson stared at the clock and scrambled around to find his pocket watch. “I hadn’t noticed the passing time. I’m afraid I must go and get some rest. You should get some rest too, can't have you working with no sleep.”

The old timey actor left, leaving Chase alone to think.

He was probably going to skip work tomorrow anyway, all he had to do was drop a few things off at the post office.

When was the last time he’d taken a day of just for himself, anyway? At least he wouldn’t have Jackie breathing down his neck.

***

The next day would’ve been a great day. Chase was planning on going out to eat and seeing a movie, and finally finish up that custom, motorized wheelchair he was commissioned for.

Unfortunately, Chase had to be friends with Marvin, who had just pulled him behind and dumpster in an alleyway. He looked panicked.

“Chase you have to help me! I’m in deep shit.”

“What did you do?”

“I don’t know! All I know is that my brother Robbie is in serious danger.”

“Why can’t you go to Jackie?”

“Jackie would just barge headfirst into this. This is more complicated than a simple bank heist. I need your help!” Marvin said, getting more and more panicked.

“Okay, okay. Take a deep breath. What happened?”

He looked around, as if someone could be watching them. “We should move somewhere else. He has eyes everywhere.”

***

Chase always found teleportation extremely disortenting. Marvin said it was because he didn’t do it enough, but he didn’t see the need to.

More forms of mundane travel got him from point a to point b quickly enough. And most mundane forms of travel don’t take years of practice and half your soul, well maybe with things like skateboarding. Though you’re less likely to get trapped in some dark world while learning to skateboard, though it had happened.

The point Chase is trying to make is that if he really needs to get somewhere instantly he could just learn shadow travel. Sure it's harder, but you’re less likely to puke out your organs afterwards.

The place Marvin brought him looked like a hose in some regular old suburban town. It seemed pretty normal. Too normal.

Looking out the window every single house was exactly the same, with slightly different colors. The lawns were all freshly moved, lawn ornaments were all standing up right and seemed to be brand new. Everything was creepily normal.

“Where are we?”

Marvin shrugs. “It doesn’t exactly have a name. This is where demons, angels, goblins, and whatever magical creature you can think of, stay when they’re away from their natural habitat. Since you know how most big cities feel about letting magical beings live there.”

“Oh… How did you get a house here? You’re human, right?”

“I made a deal with the devil, literally. The guy who owns this house is a chill dude. He lets me practice dangerous magic here, I bring him junk food he doesn’t have access to and play dnd with him every other tuesday.”

“Oh cool. You didn’t sign any contracts with the guy, right?”

“Come on, you sound like Jackie.” Marvin rolls his eyes. “That’s besides the point. Let me explain.”

The two take a seat at the kitchen table.

“So basically. While you were out investigating and trying to prove yourself, I did some investigating myself. That house you went in, wasn’t real. It was simply an illusion set up as a trap, but you already knew that.”

Chase nodded as Marvin pulled out a large book that absolutely could not fit in Marvin’s pocket, and slammed it on the table.

“So I decided to try to find where the illusion was coming from, since in order to keep up an illusion you need a constant stream of magic.”

“So..?”

“Well I found where the magic was coming from. Well not the exact place, but around the area of where it was.” He hands him a map that has a large circle drawn in it. “As soon as I found it, I got this.” He holds out a back envelope to him.

The envelope itself gave off a general feeling of unease, making Chase a little scared to find out what was inside.

Slowly he opened it and pulled out an ancient looking piece of paper, and started reading aloud.

“Dear Marvin, so you think you’re clever. While I must admit, knowing how to track a stream of magic is something else, I know a few things too. I know you have a special little someone lying in a hospital bed in room one-o-six at the Septic hospital. If you want to be an only child than feel free to keep searching for me. Always watching, The Glitch.”

“Are you sure this couldn’t be a prank?” Chase asked after a long, tension filled second.

“This letter showed up as soon as I circled that area on the map. And that envelope is made out of cursed paper. That would be one hell of an expensive prank.”

Chase swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Oh that’s simple. I just need you to keep an eye on my brother while I figure out a plan.”

#my fic #static #jacksepticeye #chase brody #Dr Schneeplestein #marvin the magnificent #jackie boyman #jameson Jackson #antisepticeye #henrik von schneeplestein #marvin the magician #robbie the zombie #schneeplebro

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haphazardlyparked · 7 years

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first impressions (monopoly)

so in response to cat’s casual prompt about how Monopoly got Monopoly as an alias, i wrote about 1000 words of a back story that i really don’t like. so have some Quickdraw/Kalna and Monopoly talking about Rex’s backstory instead. :D

So my first real-life meeting with Quickdraw had gone something like this:

Crown sidled up to my desk one afternoon, aiming for casual and failing miserably. "Monopoly," he said, arms hanging straight like a pin by his side like this was normal, "Can I talk to you about something important?"

"Spit it out, Crown," I advised, because the look on Crown's face veered on the wrong side of constipated. "It'll be for the best."

Crown didn't even take the opportunity to crack a that's what she said joke. "Look, I know you said you didn't like him, but the part-time cover job you took last week, with Isaac Wells--"

"--yeah?"

"Quickdraw needs to talk to you about it," Crown finished in a rush.

"That's all?"

"Uh... yeah," Crown admitted, looking sheepish all of the sudden. "You're the third person I've talked to him about today. Seabird got very loud." Crown leaned against my desk, glancing around and then ducking his head down to whisper, "And I swear to god Gazelle was going to shove one of her stilettos through my eye."

"Ah, to be the bearer of bad news," I said with false sympathy.

"About that," replied Crown, before he shoved a folded up piece of paper at me.

I opened the paper. It was a note arranging a rendezvous at a movie theater, even going so far as to include a time for the latest summer action flick. I arched a brow. "So dramatic."

Crown shrugged in the manner of a man who had long since given up. "It is Quickdraw. Do you need a ride to the theatre?"

"No thanks, Dad," I rolled my eyes at Crown. "I'll bike."

By the time I got to the theatre, navigated its dimly lit halls, and found theatre 7, the lights had already been lowered for the previews. Who the hell decides to meet in a movie theatre? I wondered grumpily. I was a little sweaty from the ride over, and mildly regretted spurning Crown's offer of a ride.

Monopoly, said the asshole who decided to meet in a movie theatre. Back, left.

The voice was projected a touch too loudly for comfort, but Quickdraw was obviously psychically trained. I looked up to the back left seats; even in the lowered lights, I recognized the silhouette of the man's ridiculous shoulder-length curls. He looked much the same as he had from the conference call in prison months ago, except that I assumed he was wearing his own clothes now.

I poked experimentally at his mind as I made my way up to the seats; static mental shields went effectively hazy at my touch. Huh.

You're different from what I expected, Quickdraw commented when I slouched into the seat next to him. He was projecting his thoughts past his shields; I upped my mental estimation of his training.

Different how? I asked. On screen before us, a preview for yet another action-adventure thing I didn't want to see began playing.

The way Crown described you, Quickdraw said, his sending laced with sharp amusement, I was expecting some some wan, limping mouse, or some shit.

Wow, thanks. I made my reply dry. The way Gazelle talked about you, I thought you’d be Satan incarnate.

So we’re both disappointments. Though I think I got the short end of the stick. Quickdraw laid a hand over his heart in the epitome of melodrama. Why, I think you nearly triggered a PTSD flashback from prison, you know?

Korea’s foreigner detention center is literally the nicest in the world, don’t even start with me, Quickdraw, I scowled.

Quickdraw laughed quietly. You got me there, Mouse, he conceded.

I frowned. Is there a reason why I’m here?

Shifting beside me, Quickdraw fished a phone out of his back pocket and turned it on. The screen glowed brightly in the dark of the theatre — relax, nobody gives a shit what happens in the back row, Quickdraw snorted when I sent him my disapproval. He did dim the screen before flicking through his photos, though, and when he found the one he wanted, he passed it to me.

It was a photo of me, Allison, Rex and Wells at the entrance of Virtual Wells, Wells’s not-so-creatively named firm. We all had coffees Rex had bought from the cafe I liked by my apartment. Wells, in a sharp grey suit, was his usual odd mix of congenial and aloof, and Rex was unprofessional in jeans. Allison was smiling with her coffee hiding half her face, while I had this suspicious look (which was probably because I was sure Rex had picked up the coffee while following me to work that morning.)

How long have you known Rex? Quickdraw asked.

I narrowed my eyes. You’re not interested in Rex.

Quickdraw huffed. So you are a psychic after all. When I didn’t reply, staring instead at the opening fight scene on screen like I was interested in it, Quickdraw went on. Or maybe just uninformed? Did you know Rex and I were partners?

That got my attention. I locked the phone and shoved it back at Quickdraw. Partners?

Yup, Quickdraw said, sly now that he knew he had information I wanted. Rex used to work with the team. Before he went dark side, and shit.

I abandoned all attempts to appear casually disinterested. Why did he leave?

For all of Quickdraw’s many flaws, he didn’t drag it out. Got real fucked up when we were hunting Sikes. I’d heard of Sikes; she had been a real piece of work with a fondness for ruining children's lives. Most recently, I had trawled through the team’s old files. "Sylvia Ikeson" was catatonic in a nursing home while her divorced parents argued about pulling the plug on her through their lawyers; apparently, neither of them had been aware that their daughter had been a complete psychopath for most of her conscious life.

I tentatively pushed some of that info at Quickdraw.

Yeah man, he agreed. It was pretty grim shit. She was strong. Not stronger than Rex, but with like, a fuckton of practice, and also she was huge bitch. Walking fucking disaster.

What happened?

They went head to head. She lost. Mind cracked. He lost a bit too -- couldn't find himself after, or whatever the fuck happens to you psychics when your minds go on tetherless walkabouts.

I frowned. Rex was probably the strongest psychic I’d ever met, and he’d never give me the impression that his grip on himself was loose.

Anyway, when the stupid shit wandered back he latched onto my mind. He shouldn’t have been able to, which is the understatement of the fucking century by the way, don’t even fucking bother asking how that happened, but... Quickdraw trailed off. Drove him a bit crazy.

Quickdraw fell silent after that, but I knew he wasn’t actually watching the movie. I was suddenly more curious about his well-developed shields and what lurked in his mind that could drive someone -- that could have driven Rex -- a little insane.

And? I finally prompted.

He wasn’t Rex, for a while. Quickdraw’s reply was slow and evasive and clearly hiding something. I didn’t ask. Anyway, I heard he ‘found himself’ a few years later. Now, if you’ve had your curiosity about your monumental crush satisfied, can we get down to actual fucking business?

Crush? I sputtered, denial lining every inch of the thought. You—

—I, Quickdraw interrupted, which was again impressive for someone who wasn’t psychic himself, do not give even the slightest shit whether or not you have the hots for a supervillain. Though I’ll compliment your taste. Now. Tell me about Isaac Wells.

Caught off-guard by the sudden change of topic, I frowned at Quickdraw. Something was nagging at me -- why did Quickdraw care so much about Isaac Wells? Rex had said Wells was also the supervillain Darkwell, but what did Quickdraw have to do with Darkwell?

I hid my confusion by teasing, Why, Quickdraw? Do you have your own supervillain crush?

Quickdraw didn't miss a beat. Yes. Iska and I have a deep and abiding connection. You wouldn't understand, he replied with arch arrogance.

You've even got a cute nickname for him. I couldn't stop myself.

I have a cute nickname for everyone, Mouse. It's one of my charms.

Oh, fuck you, I said, but then I settled down to business.

Telling Quickdraw everything I knew about Isaac Wells and his virtual reality goals didn't take long. When I finished, Quickdraw pressed back into his seat and braced his elbow on the armrests as if he were thinking hard. It took me an embarrassingly long time to realize he was actually watching the movie.

Squinting at my watch in the dark, I saw that we had hit the hour mark (which was only halfway, what the fuck was wrong with movies these days?), and I gave up. I got to my feet. Quickdraw made sharp, impatient gesture and I was suddenly tugged back down into my seat.

I sighed noisily. Three minutes later, in a lull where the main character was sweet-talking his leading lady, Quickdraw asked, When is Is--Wells in the office?

Most days, I think. I see him only when he comes to psych division.

Which days are those?

The days Rex is there.

Not long after that, in another lull, he asked after Rex's schedule; then, during the whole climactic finish of good guy saving his lady but shockingly losing to the bad guy, he grilled me on my schedule, Allison's schedule, and Leo's.

"What was the point of watching the movie?" I asked aloud when the lights went up.

Quickdraw slung a casual arm around my shoulder as we left the theatre together. "I thought I was gonna miss that one while I was in Korea," he grinned, tightening his hold when I scowled and tried to worm away from him. "But it was a pretty fucking terrible movie."

I elbowed Quickdraw in the ribs. "How would you know? You ignored the whole twist ending. The villain won."

"I know. Absolute bullshit, that. Unrealistic."

"What, you don't think the antagonist can ever get a leg up?"

Quickdraw snorted. "No," he said, strangely serious now as we emerged from the theater and into the light of day. It was late afternoon, but still bright out. "The heroes always win, Mouse. Trust me. They always fucking win, somehow."

"We always win,” I corrected. “You should be more pleased about that."

"Oh, Mouse, I am fucking thrilled about it, don't you worry." Back to his ever-mocking self, Quickdraw began heading off to the parking lot. He paused only to suggest, "We should do this again."

"What, see a movie?"

I was really starting to hate Quickdraw's sleazy grin. "No -- go on a date."

"That wasn't a date," I fired back. "You made me pay for my own ticket. Nine wasted dollars, you dick. And that was the matinee price."

"So I'd be a shit boyfriend," Quickdraw agreed cheerfully. "But it's not like you can't afford it, eh, Min Huang Su?"

#MAYhem 2017 #straycatreadsthat #monopoly #writing #superheroes #year of the orange

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