#and I walked around the natural history museum with a notebook and wrote down all my favorite things I saw that day ahaha | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wookikun · 4 years

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aesthetic tag game

tagged by @hiddenclawsof (who wrote the very first WooKi I've read and well I'm facing some unpleasant moments but u still remembers me and that heals me a lot)

rules: bold the aesthetics you relate to and add twenty of your own aesthetic qualities for others to bold.

I'm not gonna tag anyone cuz I'm unfamiliar here but still I want to do this si without tagging I just do it :(((((

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vampirefreakism · 4 years

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The Scientist (Chapter 51)

Summary: In the events following Asgard’s destruction, Loki finds himself on Earth seeking refuge to await the inevitable. Much to his surprise, it comes from a source he would never have expected.

Warnings: science, mentions of sharp objects, some cutting, not bad, cool stuff

Word count: 5k

The AO3, Wattpad, and Spotify links are all available on the MasterList

Masterlist

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A/N: Hello, folks! New chapter! Yay! Alrighty, we are revisiting the lab again! More science and such things and the like. Gonna look back at the rose and the zebrafish from all those chapters ago. Remember the fish? The zebrafish Luna did some gene-splicing experiment on after the worm? I sure do. Yes, I know I haven't mentioned it in a while, but that's because there were more notable things to talk about first. We need a little mundanity now and then. Also, it's been about 5 chapters, so it's high time for more music!

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The remaining vacation days were as unexciting as the duo had hoped. They visited a couple museums, a restaurant for dinner and a café for lunch, and then returned home. It was a smooth ride, save for a spot of traffic in the afternoon. Luna gave herself enough time to account for such instances so she wouldn't worry herself. Naturally, Loki slept for most of the journey, but not before taking Luna’s hand in his and holding it for as long as he could. He was glad she didn’t demand an explanation because he hadn’t prepared one.

Another day of rest and unwinding in the apartment and Luna was back on the grind at work. Though she'd been away for a week, it felt like an eternity. As she walked into the building and to the lab, she was tempted to turn back around and go somewhere else. Anywhere other than the workplace. But she kept going, scanning her card and making herself known.

“Hello, miss,” FRIDAY said as Luna stowed away her bags and jacket, “welcome back.”

“Hello, FRIDAY. It’s good to be back.”

“How was your vacation? Eventful, I hope.”

Luna chuckled and shrugged on her lab coat. “Oh, you have no idea.”

“No, I wouldn’t, would I?” FRIDAY snarked a little.

“Any messages for me?”

“A few from Mr. Stark, but no high-priority items.”

“Ok. What are they about?”

“He wants a lab meeting soon.” Luna’s body stiffened. It’d been a while since she talked about her work with him. She didn’t know what she’d tell him.

But she huffed and snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. “Alright. I’ll see him about that later. Thanks, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome. Care for any music while you work?”

“Uh, yeah. Just throw on whatever.” As Luna unlocked a drawer and took out her lab notebook, ‘Twilight Zone’ played through the room speakers. Her ears perked up at the familiar notes. “Ooh, nice,” she said, turning to the last page she wrote in before vacation. Bobbing her head, she read over the tasks for the day. First things first, she needed to clean and change the filters to the fish tank.

As far as she could tell, the little fish was thriving. It swam contentedly about its tank and pecked at any particles it saw. Luna checked the UV light and changed the active-carbon filter. The filter pad was nearly black with sediment and dirt. Cringing, she folded it up and slid a new one in place. The pH and temperature levels in the water remained steady and fluctuated within the safe zones for them. Luna was thankful. She would have hated to have come back to an emergency.

Rinsing her hands off, she gingerly disconnected the pumps to the tank and took it to the sink. Her little fish didn’t seem perturbed by the sudden movement, though it did thrash a bit as Luna lifted it out with a net. She silently apologized to it. She didn’t mean to cause it any distress. It calmed down once it was in the fresh tank and knew everything was ok again. As an added comfort, Luna gave it a bit of dry food, and it inhaled all of it before it was back under the care of the system. She connected the tank back to the water pumps and breathed a sigh of relief. One job is done for the day.

As Luna cleaned the old tank and net with ethanol, her music cut out, and FRIDAY's voice came back on.

“Miss, Mr. Stark is on the line.”

Luna nodded, not stopping her scrubbing. “Yeah, yeah. Patch him through.”

“Long time, no talk, Baby,” Tony’s voice greeted her.

She laughed. “Hey, Tony. So we’re back to that now?”

“We sure are.” She heard a few faint metallic clangs. “How was your break?”

Luna slowed her hands. “It was, uh, good,” she lied.

“Just ‘good.’? What’d you do, anyway?”

“Mm, nothing much. Relaxed at home, went out to museums, and cooked stuff.” She lied right through her teeth, but lucky for her, Tony didn’t have to see her lack of a poker face.

“What about your guy?”

Luna nervously shuddered. “What about him?”

“Anyone recognize him?”

“We had a couple close calls, but nothing anyone can pin.”

“Good, because I seriously don’t know if I could take it if you two got into trouble. My blood pressure is teetering as it is, and Pepper would have the whole barn. You know, not just the cow.”

“And that’s why I stay out of trouble.”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite.”

“Aw, thanks.” Luna smiled. There was a loud bang over the speakers, followed by some repetitive whirring. “Hey, what are you even doing over there to make that much noise?”

“Uh, well, right now, I am on the ceiling.”

Luna set her hands on the edge of the sink. “You’re … you’re on the ceiling? Like, upside-down?”

“Yup. Trying out a new feature in the suit.”

“A feature that lets you … stand on the ceiling?”

“Not just stand. I can walk around, too. See?” A few more taps and whirs came through like Tony was walking around. “Oh, wait, no. Sorry. You can’t see.” Luna let out a loud laugh and resumed scrubbing the tank.

“What are you planning on using it for? Taking a trip to a place with microgravity?”

“Can never be too careful.” Tony paused, and some beeping filled the silence. “By the way, I was going through some of you-know-who’s phone history, and honestly, I don’t know what I expected.”

“What did you see?”

“Don’t you know? I thought you two were, like, the best of friends, or something.”

“Save for a few things, he never shows me what's on his phone, and I never ask."

“Hm. Anyway, his most recent searches were pictures of raccoons, articles about himself, conspiracy theories, and more pictures of himself.” He scoffed. “As if his ego wasn’t big enough already.”

“Heh, not as big as his dick,” she chuckled under her breath, but to her dismay, she was heard loud and clear.

“Excuse me?!” Tony yelled, followed by a thunderous crash. Luna winced as she pictured him falling spectacularly to the floor.

“Whoops, sorry, gotta go!” she called out, waving her hand to cut the transmission.

“Why would you say something like that?!”

“Hanging up now! Bye!” She gestured frantically, and the call cut out. Groaning as loud as she could, she hung her head. “I can’t believe myself sometimes.” She dried off the outside of the old tank, set it aside to air-dry, and dried her own hands. “Alright, what else is there to do?” She flipped back a page in her notebook. “Ah, yes, that's right," she stated through her teeth.

Her next possible point was to test the new virus on a live subject i.e., her own self.

Luna did a set of three things: stare at the floor, staring at the wall, then sit in a chair and stare at the ceiling. Of all the things she should be doing now, she did none of them, and she thought of nothing. A horrible thing to do in a lab filled with items of dubious safety, but she did it anyway.

Getting tired of thinking of nothing, she pictured something in her mind to fill it. She thought of the trees outside, birds flying high, and the porch by the river. Things that brought her peace and made her believe everything was alright. And as far as her life was concerned, few things were alright but not as many as she would like. She was saddled with issues out of her control, Tony was an anxious wreck most of the time, and Loki held the weight of several worlds on his shoulders. She always wanted to try and fix things for her friends, but she had to remind herself that it was impossible. A wish had to stay a wish.

Luna quickly got fed up with looking from an empty white space to another empty white space and decided to take a walk down the hall. She left everything stowed and locked in the lab, toting only her music along. She needed to manifest some semblance of privacy while in public, and the music did an excellent job.

Hands in her pockets, she moseyed to the lobby and stared out the giant floor-to-ceiling windows. It was a great design choice to open up the room to the world outside. Now she could see the trees and the birds she imagined. She’d seen them hundreds of times during all the seasons she was here, and it never got old.

Luna opened up her music app and hit shuffle on the ‘suggestions’ list. A new sound graced her ears. She looked down at the screen, furrowing her brow, and read the title. ‘Holding On’ by Nightly. It was new. Very new, and she liked it. She added it to her favorites list and put the device back in her pocket.

She knew the scientific procedure. It was simple: defrost the RePri virus, inflict a small injury to an inconspicuous place on her body, and inject the virus to the wound site. All to test how quickly it could heal surface injuries on a human with matched DNA. It was easy to write down and easy to conceptualize, but everything else was hard. The dilemma at hand reminded her of a phrase she heard a long time ago: ‘your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could that they didn't stop to think if they should.’ A classic line from a classic film, and said by a fake scientist in a fake scenario.

However, being the real scientist in the room, it hit Luna hard. It was true that just because someone can do something, they shouldn’t necessarily do it. The presence of ‘can’ doesn’t automatically mean ‘everything will be fine.’

But Luna had a curious soul. Always eager to find things out and learn about them. She never felt there should be a limit to knowing things, but plenty of people with more power than her certainly did. Such people frightened her, especially the ones she had in mind concerning her work. S.H.I.E.L.D. or whatever they called themselves now, and groups like them. She heard about what they would do to scientists they were interested in. Jane Foster was a lucky one.

If they found out what Luna was doing, they would steal everything and erase her, or rope her into working for them and make her do whatever they wanted. Tony managed to avoid joining them by intimidating or buying his way out of surveillance via bountiful benevolence. Still, people like Luna were considered nothing but stepping stones to an end product.

On the other hand, what if she succeeded in hiding her project from the world? And kept testing the virus on herself and choice specimens. Say something went wrong, and Luna hurt herself in a way she couldn't fix. What would become of her? How would she explain it to Tony? He would lose all trust in her for keeping this a secret. How would she explain it to Loki? Would he have compassion? He was undoubtedly intelligent, but would he understand? Or would he be enraged that she used him for her own purposes? It tore at her heart. He would believe she thought nothing of his past pain and the courage it took to reveal a piece to her. He would think her heartless and precisely like everyone else. She’d lose him, and for what?

Luna felt a sharp tap on her shoulder. It startled her, and she jumped. She tore the earbuds from her ears and abruptly turned around, clutching her chest.

“Dammit, Tony!” she chastised. “You scared me!”

“Sorry, Lu,” he said, suppressing a giggle.

“Why are you here? Why couldn’t you have called me?”

“Uh, because sometimes, direct confrontation is the best thing.”

“What for?”

Tony stepped closer. “For that joke you made.”

But Luna played dumb. “What joke?” She wanted him to say it.

“The … you know.”

“Why you mad? You make jokes like that all the time.”

Tony huffed. “Yeah, but not you and not about him.” He sighed. “I don’t want you getting friendly.”

“What wrong with being nice, Tony?”

“There’s nice, there’s your level of nice, and then there’s too nice.” He pointed at her. “Don’t even think about getting too nice.”

Luna looked down at his hand and smiled, moving it aside. “It’s never even crossed my mind.”

Tony straightened up and brushed a hand through his hair. He looked her up and down and glanced outside. “So what are you doing out here anyway? Shouldn’t you be working?”

Luna swallowed. “Uh, yes. I am. Just, uh, waiting for something to defrost.” She waved a hand. “You know how long that can take.”

“In a way. So why not wait in the lab?”

“It’s dull in there. Besides, I'm keeping track of the time. Figured I would take a walk instead and check how my flower is growing. It’s been a little while, and can’t a girl check on her flower?” Tony opened his mouth to say something, and Luna lightly swatted his chest. “And don’t even think about saying what I think you’re about to say.”

He laughed and raised his hands. “Promise.” Rubbing his hands together, he rocked back and forth on his heels. “Alright. Well, don’t take too long. And no more jokes like that about you-know-who.”

Luna stepped back and gave him a mock salute. “Ay, ay, sir. Read you loud and clear.” Tony rolled his eyes, smirking, and made for the staircase on the other side.

Alone again, Luna groaned as she took off her glasses and put a hand over her face. "Ugh, what is wrong with me?" Grinding her teeth, she put her earbuds back in and restarted the song. It was good, and she wasn't sick of it yet.

She headed for the greenhouse as she fake-promised Tony. He had his eyes and ears almost everywhere, and she needed to keep up her lie. But it wasn’t all bad. It’d been a while since she'd last seen it, and she did need to check on its progress. On the trip there, all thoughts of her work vanished and were replaced with anticipation for the plant. Was it doing well? Did it bloom? Was it budding yet? Her pace quickened with her growing excitement, and in no time, she was there.

The warmth and humidity was a welcome difference from the cold, dry outside. The vegetables looked vibrant and lush, especially the tomatoes. Luna was tempted to snatch one and use it for dinner, but she hesitated. One tomato wasn't worth all the trouble if she was caught, and she was sure she had a proper one waiting on her kitchen counter.

Keeping her head down to avoid more distraction, she continued to the back where Tony’s personal garden sat. In and among the various flowers he kept was Luna’s rose. She crouched down and inspected it. As expected, it was much bigger than before. It had sprung a couple new leaves, and on the top, a sizeable bud had formed.

“Oh, hello there,” Luna said, reaching out to stroke it. She could see a speck of blue peeked out from bud’s seams. “You gonna come out soon? Hm?” She smiled wholeheartedly.

As she picked up the watering can, she could hardly contain herself. After months of waiting and gentle caring, she'll see the fruits of her labor. The flower will bloom, and she'll be able to bring it home to Loki. But once more, she second-guessed herself. Would he like it? Would it be too much? He told her about it only once in a passing story months ago. Would he read it as creepy, obsessive behavior? Maybe not. He properly confided in her now. They knew things about each other no one else did in the entire universe. Perhaps it wouldn't be too much. Maybe he would love it.

But if he didn’t, and rejected it, Luna would keep it for herself. At the end of the day, it was still the plant she raised from a seed. She would love it and care for it no matter what.

She stroked one of its leaves one more time and left. She'd spent enough time there, and any more would arouse suspicion. Well, she didn't know for sure, but it wasn't worth the risk. Besides, the plant wasn’t going anywhere.

Loki consumed Luna's thoughts on the way back to the lab. She knew so much about him, but at the same time, she knew very little. He shared as he wanted, and she did the same, but now with what she knew, what more could he be hiding? He had enough scars to last a few lifetimes – and to be fair, she did too – but she knew where she got hers and why. Where did Loki get his? And why did he have them?

Luna sat down at the lab bench and contemplated her questions. She wondered if it could have been someone he was close with, maybe family, but she quickly scratched the idea. Family could be cruel, but Loki said he’d been captured. It would have involved being far away from home, not in the depths of it. The injuries would have had to be recent to heal and fade as they did, but Asgardian physiology was different. Luna didn’t have the knowledge to know only by looking at them. And it was insensitive to ask outright. Whatever happened to him was severely traumatizing.

In a flash, something resurfaced in her mind, like a ping in a sea of silence. A memory from when she was still getting comfortable with having Loki in her home. When she was first starting her research into his genetic code.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. security videos from 2012. Loki had made passing threats and said some grave things, but thinking back on them now, Luna felt very unsettled. But she couldn’t remember exactly what he said. At least not at the top of her head.

“Hey FRIDAY, can we switch to my private server, please? And secure my connection?” Luna said into the air.

“Certainly.” FRIDAY opened up the interface and virtual files. “Is there anything in particular you need?”

“Yes. Show me those old S.H.I.E.L.D. videos again. The ones from when Loki came here.” The files spanned the screen. “Can you play the first one?” It opened up and played from the beginning.

Agents and scientists milled around, checking their computer screens and tablets. One of them poked at a device near the middle of the room. Luna assumed it to be the Tesseract. It fizzed and sputtered, and a beam of light shot from it, conjuring a portal. From the chaos and darkness, Loki appeared. Luna flinched at the sounds of guns firing and knives being thrown. It was all so violent. She looked away and waited for it to end.

“Please don’t.” Loki’s voice resounded from the video. Luna looked back up. “I still need that.” His attention was directed to a man in a black coat.

“This doesn’t have to get any messier,” the man said quietly.

“Of course it does,” Loki retorted. Luna shook her head, feeling grim. “I’ve come too far for anything else. I am Loki of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose.”

“Loki?” Someone else interjected with a start. “Brother of Thor?”

The first man turned and faced him. “We have no quarrel with your people.” He tried to placate, but Loki wasn’t having it.

“An ant has no quarrel with a boot.”

Luna’s feet grew cold.

“You planning to step on us?”

“I come with glad tidings,” Loki reassured, “of a world made free.”

“Free from what?”

“Freedom. Freedom is life's great lie.”

“No,” Luna whispered, leaning closer.

“Once you accept that, in your heart,” Loki turned around and pointed the scepter at the second man, “you will know peace.”

“Pause,” Luna commanded as she rose to her feet. Loki was now standing in full view of the camera. "Can we zoom in on his face and keep the image clear?"

"Certainly," FRIDAY said and did as she asked.

Loki’s face filled the screen. It was a bit blurry at first, but the program quickly enhanced it. His appearance here was profoundly different from the images of him used by the news programs. His skin was pale and shiny like he'd been sweating profusely, and his eyes were ringed in dark circles. But the look they held told a more in-depth story. They were distant and foggy, like everything he was seeing was far away. Luna's stomach turned, and she dropped back down into her seat. The drained complexion, the clammy skin, and the hazy eyes: all telltale signs of shock. She wouldn’t be surprised if his breathing and walking were labored.

She put her head in her hands, trying to control her swirling thoughts. It was all so much. The vague story he told her in the hotel troubled her greatly, and now this? She felt like she was reaching, but if there was a connection between Loki’s scars and his appearance here, it spelled something very sinister. There was no doubt the injuries he sustained would have led to him going into shock, either from blood loss or infection or both, but if this was when it happened? Luna felt a little woozy and rested her elbows on her knees.

Staring at the floor, she was overcome with the urge to embrace him. Her Loki. The one she recently spent a week sleeping with, in the literal sense. But also the Loki on the computer screen. The one who looked like he went from the frying pan and into the fire. He was in trouble, and he needed help.

Luna missed him dearly. She missed having him in her bed, going to sleep close to him, and waking up closer. Spending a full day with him in pure bliss, talking about anything, and not being afraid of what he would say. Feeling free for the time being and seeing him have a similar expression. Holding his hand for no other reason than to feel him.

Luna looked back up at the screen, still frozen on Loki’s menacing façade. She reached out and traced the curve of his jaw.

"What happened to you?" she whispered but received no answer. The Loki she knew hated being trapped. He enjoyed his freedom and the peace he felt with her. The words he spoke in the video weren’t his, at least, not naturally. He had been forced to love his cage, and his words were a result of it.

Luna took her glasses off, covered her face, and groaned loudly. She had to stop thinking about it. There was no way to tell unless she asked him, and she wasn’t planning on it anytime soon. It was awful to make up stories about things she didn’t know and an absolute waste of her time. She needed to get back to work.

She pulled on some fresh gloves and opened the freezer. The virus vials were where she left them, waiting for her to thaw them out. She took them, set them in a hot water bath, and let them melt. Like expected, it took longer than usual thawing sessions. It never ceased to cling to the cold.

Luna got her notebook, pen, and timer ready and made a trip down the hall for antiseptic wipes and fresh syringes. The box of micropipettes was full, and all the devices worked as they should.

“FRIDAY, turn everything off and go dark. I’m going to do this the old-fashioned way.”

“But, miss, if something were to happen -”

“But nothing,” Luna said confidently. “I can do it.”

“Alright. Going dark.” And FRIDAY switched off. No more coms or voice-command and the computer screen went blank.

“Ok,” she said, pulled out the now-thawed vial. “Let’s test you first.”

Luna prepared a microscope slide and turned on the corresponding machine. Using a fresh syringe, she dropped a half a milliliter of her blood onto the glass, along with the same amount of the virus. As she applied pressure to the puncture wound on her arm, she observed the activity of the cells through the eyepiece. She kept track of the time and sat for about five minutes, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. No spontaneous rupturing and no odd coloring. It looked like the last few times she’d done it.

Leaning back from it, she wrote down her observations and looked to the MicroFluid machine. She slid the microscope slide into the designated slot and turned it on. The computer screen came to life with an interface for the device. Luna sighed. Of course, she'd have to interpret the information manually.

In no time, she received the results she expected; the virus is compatible with her cells and bonded with them completely. Her testing continually remained successful outside of her body, but now she had to test it in real-time.

Luna’s hands and knees shook aggressively on the way to and back from the supply closet. Her goal was to get a sterile razor. The idea of holding it in her hand made her sick, but she was using it for an intellectual purpose. It wasn't like all the other times she'd held one, and she knew so, but the real trouble was believing it. Brains were tricky that way. They believed whatever was most comfortable for them to believe.

She closed and locked both lab doors behind her and taped pieces of scrap paper over the windows. No one in or out until she was done. Now, she had to decide where to test the virus.

She looked at her forearm and shook her head. If the experiment didn’t work, it would be obvious what she’d done, and it was sporting a pinprick anyway. It was also a particularly dangerous spot to pick. She hovered a hand over her stomach. No, the skin was too pliable, and it moved too much as she breathed. She looked down at her legs. The skin there was more durable, and she could keep it still as long as she needed, and if it didn't work, it wasn't anything long pants, and a bandage couldn’t hide.

Luna spread some paper towels on the stool by the bench and ripped off her old gloves. Bare-handed, she eased her pants down as far as they would go and sat on the towels. A lab conduct rule popped up in her mind: no exposed skin above the knee or elbow. Well, she’d broken several science rules already, so it hardly mattered now.

She cleaned the area of skin above the side of her right knee, and with a plastic ruler, measured two inches above it and put down a dot with a felt tip pen. From that point, she measured another inch and made another dot. Letting the alcohol dry, she made a note of everything in her notebook. She slipped on a pair of new gloves and opened up another syringe. Taking a deep breath, she opened up the virus vial, extracted one milliliter of liquid, and capped the needle. It was always good to start small.

Now it was time to get the show on the road. Luna picked up the razor and cleaned with antiseptic for good measure. She felt sweat start to congregate where it shouldn’t. There was no reason for her to be scared. She’d handled sharp things for most of her life, she’d tested the virus umpteen times, and she knew she was smart. She knew what she was doing. No one else did, but her.

“I’m smart. I know what I’m doing,” Luna thought to herself. She closed her eyes and repeated the phrase in her head. As of right now, the worst thing that could happen was nothing at all.

Luna opened her eyes and, without a moment spared to hesitate, made the one-inch incision. It burned and stung as she expected it to. She uncapped the needle and injected it about one centimeter from the injury site. Setting the two objects aside for disposal, she started the timer. Now to wait and see how fast it worked, if it worked at all.

30 seconds in, the stinging ebbed away to a dull ache.

Another minute, the bleeding stopped.

Two minutes in, all feelings of pain were gone, and the skin started to fill in.

Three minutes in, the wound was barely visible. It felt a bit itchy, and Luna made a note of it.

Four and a half minutes in, it fully healed to a dark pink line as a blue bruise formed around it.

Luna stopped the timer and made her last observation. She set her pen down, eyes glued to the newly-healed bit of skin. The bruising was unaccounted for, and it felt a little cold. She hovered her hand over it and lightly touched it. She winced prematurely, but it didn’t hurt. A harder press confirmed it. It tingled, but the skin was completely healed. A wound that would have taken a couple days to a week to close was done in about five minutes.

Smiling widely, Luna was beside herself. Tears prickled at her eyes as pride filled her to the brim. She did it. She did it all by herself. It was like the saying, 'curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.' In all intents and purposes, she felt very much like the cat, newly reborn and very satisfied.

She still had a lot to do; more experiments and tests to run and hypotheses to answer. But for now, she reveled in this victory. It was enough for today.

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A/N: Yes, I know I didn’t mention anywhere that a special tank system was set up for the fish, and that’s because I’m a little bit dumb. There’s a whole maintenance procedure and housing system for laboratory animals like the zebrafish (duh). I personally never worked with any, but I read enough lab papers to get a feel for it. Also, since this is still set in 2018, I had to label the song as ‘new,’ even though right now it’s not XP and yes, I had to quote Jurassic Park or I would die

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Taglist: @the-doctor-9-10 @pinkieperil @sherlockfan4life @kybaeza @withering-thoughtts

#loki x oc #loki x reader #the scientist #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki friggason #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #fanfic #fanfiction #luna fields #multi chapter #chapter 51 #slow burn #science #music #oc luna fields

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strikingdarkeyes · 5 years

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OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS.

APHRODITE. laughter loving. sweet smiles. dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair. sees the world as a runway. unapologetically sexual. the sea washing their ankles. in love with love. stirrer of passion. cunning concealed by painted lips. secret daggers. doves. revolution in their kiss. delighting in the waves. flirtatious winks. strolling along the beach. staring wistfully from a balcony. this is how to be a heartbreaker. wants to be adored. gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO. glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold. neatly organised music sheets. notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonderwall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch. speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paint brushes. probably has a tinder account.

ARES. armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world for the ones they love. fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses. curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS. keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. disheveled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA. discerning gaze. unreadable face. quiet museums. owl perched on their finger. armour that intimidates. eye for architecture. plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses. studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid. big fan of logic. loves brain teasers. ancient buildings. sweaters in neutrals and cool colours. hair done up. can kill you with their brain. heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils. abs that can cut steel. stoic statues. pottery classes.

DEMETER. soil covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends. flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants. leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS. drunk shitposter. on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second. seductive smirks. untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin. sleek furred panthers. theatre masks. stage productions. receiving a standing ovation. rose caught between their teeth. being the baby of the bunch. wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. creeping vines. inspiring loyalty. grand opera houses. masquerade balls. rolls of film. shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. pouring champagne into flutes. lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS. the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.

HERA. resting bitch face. dressed to the nines. cows grazing on a pasture. cool rain. loving and hating fiercely. hand clutching a string of pearls. large chandelier with glittering crystals. plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims. romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. files that under fuck it. downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix. like their selfie or you’re grounded. knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. dark eyes that penetrate your soul. marble and gold.

HERMES. devil - may - care smile. always up - to - date on the latest technology. will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter. puts googly eyes on everything. meme hoarder. long drives on the highway. ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s. hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON. storm with skin. colorful coral reefs. waves crashing against the shore. stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint. owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets. fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever - changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.

HADES. walking home alone in the early morning. back alleys. drinking alone in a graveyard. crippling loneliness hidden by sarcasm and cynicism. crows picking a carcass. untended dead flowers. the black sheep of the family. black coffee. money can’t buy you happiness. murder mystery dinner parties. blood on your shirt collar. dust illuminated by sunlight. classical music. dogs are better than people. a quiet wrath. shady business deals. taking what you are owed. paint it black. seasonal affective disorder. popping the suit collar. grey rain on a cityscape.

ZEUS. thunder in their heart. running on coffee. flash of lightning. unnatural charisma. eloquence. badass in a nice suit. aficionado of history. force of nature. lenny face. nightmare - filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. high - rise buildings. planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.

tagged by: @monticellomatriarch

tagging: @i-wrote-myway, @lettergave, & anyone else who wants to do it!

#i especially love this because i got to allude to my headcanon #that eliza can casually pick up a hundred pound sack like it's absolutely nothing #she works hard!! she has muscle!!!#eliza: [carrying a child in each arm while giving another a piggyback ride] what #eliza CAN and WILL pick up alexander and that's the tea #'take a break' is inaccurate because she could have just carried him o—

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detroitbecomehumanfanfic · 6 years

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Detroit Become...More?

So this is a sequel to Detroit Become Friends. So the caféand museum in this one are completely made up. I have never been to Detroit so my knowledge is limited to what the internet tells me. Anyway the bar part of this story isn’t finished yet but I really wanted to post something today so this is the two dates at the museum and the café. I really loved how funny and dramatic the café one turned out. Where as the museum took a more serious and hopeful tone. I really hope you enjoy this one as it is sorta short.

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It wa 8:00am the next day and Simon couldn’t believe that Josh had talked him into this whole mess. He was going to. Connor’s and Hank’s place to see if Connor wanted to go out for breakfast. Connor and Hank had recently moved into a apartment for space reasons. Simon knocked on the door of the apartment and waited. Soon the door opened up to reveal Lieutenant Anderson.

“Hello Lieutenant Anderson is Connor home?” Simon greeted the police officer.

“Who’s askin’?”

“Well my nam-“ Simon never got to finish his sentence due to a certain someone cutting of his line.

“Hank! Who’s at the door?” Connor yelled from… somewhere inside the apartment. Before Simon could even answer the Lieutenant already had the answer.

“Some blonde haired dude is here!” Hank said and then you could here scrambling and rushing to the doorstep. Connor looked like he was late for some meetings and had forgotten to straighten his tie. He was still dressed nicely though wearing black pants and a white shirt with a black tie.

“I can handle it from here Hank” Connor said to Hank. Hank looked at Connor and then at Simon and just smirked and walked away. “Hey Simon what are you doing here?”

Simon laughed at that and it made Connor’s smile widen. “I was here to ask you if wanted to go have breakfast with me down at this café that just opened up in the downtown area?” Simon smiled sweetly.

Connor swore his whole face was entirely blue at the moment. “I-uh yeah sure I’m not doing anything this morning let’s go!” Connor went to go move before Simon stopped him.

“One your going to want to grab a trench coat or an umbrella these spring days can bring in spring showers.” Connor seemed to remember but before he went in to go grabbed his trench coat he was stopped yet again by Simon. “Also you need to fix your tie.” Simon grabbed the tie and straighten it up enjoying the domestic feel of it. Connor on the other hand was positive his face was blue as blueberry. He ran and quickly grabbed his black trench coat that Hank had bought him as a gift.

“Let’s go!”

A couple minutes later…

Connor was holding the umbrella up for both him and Simon who was pressing close to him as to avoid the rain. Connor could swear he could die and be perfectly content with it. They finally got to their destination and got inside. The café was called Stars Café and a young lady, who appeared to be an android, was at the entryway greeting guests and helping them find a table. She had brown skin and really short black hair with dark eyes. Connor and Simon walked up and greeted her.

“Hello! Welcome to the Stars Café! My name is Farah!”

“Hello My name is Simon and this is Connor” Simon introduced himself and Connor. Connor gave the lady a small wave.

“Well that’s great I’ll have a waitress lead you to your table and she’ll take your order. Another woman came out, who looked human, and gave them a smile. She white skin and brown medium hair with brown chestnut eyes. She showed them their table, when they sat down she greeted them.

“Hello! My name is Morgan can I get you anything to drink?” She took out a small notebook and pen after handing Connor and Simon their menus.

“Oh yes I’ll have some orange juice, Connor?” Simon replied to her then looking at Connor.

“What kind of coffee do you recommend?” Connor asked the waitress.

“Well our coffee of the day is the piccolo latte. It is a customer favorite among humans and androids.”

“Well I’ll have that, thank you.” The woman wrote their orders down and left. A few moments later she comes back with their drinks and they tell her there orders. She comes back out with the food and leaves to go tend to other customers.

“So Simon if I may ask why did you invite me out for breakfast?” Connor asks while cutting into is fluffy pancakes.

“Can’t I invite a friend to breakfast whenever I please?” Simon says countering Connor’s question.

“That’s hardly fair, first of all you avoided my question many asking another question and secondly you and I don’t know each other all that well… We’re hardly friends, more like we just know each other through Markus.” Connor said before taking a bite of pancake.”

“So why can’t I invite you out to know more about you and become your friend?” Simon have Connor a smile before digging into his own breakfast.

Connor looked at Simon, a thought came into his head that he resembled Daniel quite a lot but he quickly dismissed it, he analyzed Simon and came to a calculated assumption that… “You’re planning something aren’t you?” as soon as Connor said that Simon almost choked on his orange juice. There was the reaction he was looking for.

“I have absolutely have no idea what you’re talking about.” Simon quickly denied Connor but Connor being… well Connor he decided to press on.

Connor have a wicked grin “That was quite the reaction there Mr.Simon are you sure there isn’t something you’re hiding?” Simon made eye contact with Connor and gave a smirk.

“Is this an interrogation Detective Connor? I’ll have you know I have a very good lawyer he’ll fill out any details it’s ashamed I forgot their name.”

“To answer your question Mr.Simon this is an interrogation and I bet I know the name of your so called lawyer. I hope they’re able to talk you out of this Mr.Simon.”

“Oh you wound me detective! How could you ever think little old me was ever up to something?” They both stared intently at each other before laughing and continued to eat their breakfast with a small talk.

After breakfast…

Simon walks Connor back to his shared apartment with Hank. As they get to the door Simon faces Connor smiling. “Thank you for coming out with me Connor. It was really nice to have breakfast with you.”

“The pleasure is all mine Simon thank you for inviting me out to have breakfast with you. I was also wondering if we could do it again tomorrow same time same place?” Connor smiled nervously as he awaited the response of Simon.

“It’s a date.”

Connor bid his goodbye as he walked into the apartment where Hank was standing there smirking. Connor gave and exasperated moan at Hank’s smirk. “So how you date with your boyfriend?” Connor blushed profusely at Hank’s comment.

“Hank! Stop teasing me!” Connor exclaimed bashfully

Hank held his hands up in the air as if to say he wasn’t guilty by anything. Simon who was standing outside the door who heard it all and smiled silently to himself as he began to walk off.

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Connor and Simon go out for a couple more days before Simon decides to help Markus stop moping around. He calls Connor and apologizes that he won’t be able to see him today. He simply tells him that North and Markus broke up and he unfortunately won’t be able to meet up with him today. So Simon went to go see Markus in the big house he inherited from his father. Surprisingly Simon had never actually been to the house Markus lived in. Simon lived in a small apartment in Detroit. He had called Markus ahead of time to inform him that he was coming over today and taking him somewhere so he would stop working and take a break. Whether or not he actually got the message was anyone’s guess as the phone went straight to voicemail. But nevertheless Simon showed up at the door and knocked. The door open greeting Simon as a guest.

“Markus? Where are you?” Simon called out in what seemed to be a empty house. Simon was met with silence. He decided to look for Markus. He entered into what appeared to a living room and dining room. He saw the lights on in what appeared to be another room. Simon cautiously walked into the room. “Markus is that you?” As he entered the room he was greeted to the sight of Markus painting.

Markus opened his eyes and looked at Simon with a surprised as if he had not expected to see Simon there. “Simon what on earth are you doing here? I didn’t here you come in…” Markus said, Simon smirked and sighed.

“Really? I could have sworn I called you almost five times and all of them went straight to voicemail. I left one I wasn’t quite sure if you got it though but I think I have a answer.” Simon said smiling at Markus with a bit of concern in his gaze.

“I’m so sorry Simon I didn’t mean to! I just I’ve been busy these past few days with thing and it’s just been getting to me. I promise I didn’t mean to cause you any concern.” Markus apologized as he set down the paintbrush and paints. He walked over to Simon giving him a hug. It was moments like these Simon cherished.

“It’s fine Markus I know you’re going through a tough time with the revolution and North…” Simon brought North into the conversation even though it wasn’t probably the best idea.

“How do you know about North? I only told Josh, or let me just Josh told you.” Simon gave a nod to to Markus as he pulled out of the hug.

“Listen I came here today to get you out of this house. We’re going to a museum and you’re coming because you need to stop moping around and staying cooped up in this house.” Simon Said grabbing Markus’s hand and dragging him out the door. Markus however shockingly didn’t put up a fight.

A few moments later…

The couple arrived at the Detroit Natural History Museum. The museum was built back in 2026 and opened on the Fourth of July to celebrate USA 250th “birthday” or independence. The museum covered just about all of the United States history. From dinosaurs to the first ever Cyberlife androids, the museum was one of the biggest in the country. It was largely due to Cyberlife’s donation of free androids to help run the museum. The museum was now working on building a new part one that recognized the android movement.

Simon and Markus got to the museum and were let in by the androids, who had also become deviant, for free as Markus was seen as a hero to all androids. They walked around admiring the dinosaur bones and watching some of Cyberlife’s best work to create a dinosaur for the purpose of teaching others what they might have been like. A lot of exhibits there had Cyberlife written all over them. The museum showed the American Revolution to the Civil War. It went into great detail about heroes of the Civil War. It showed the struggle the US faced during WWI and WWII detailing the science that went into the weapons that had shown up in the wars. The age of the Civil Rights Movement all the way down to the Age of Glass and Plastic. It went into showing how great of a inventor Kamski was for the invention of androids.

Markus had stop though at a point seeing that many of Carl Manfred’s paintings were hung in one of the art sections of the museum. It talked about his life and then Markus looked over to see a painting that looked all to familiar. It was the painting he had painted that fateful day where his entire life changed. How it ended up in the museum he had no idea, but he looked at the the card that was there on the side detailing what the picture meant. It simply read…

This painting was the last of Carl Manfred’s paintings though he would go on to say it wasn’t his that no mere human could ever paint this. He said that a person with more humanity than any humans had he had ever met painted. He said that it represented something we all needed to see.

Humanity’s Empathy

The final painting of the Great Carl Manfred

Markus smiled at that, a fitting end to his father’s career. He wondered if that night could have gone differently, would any of this ever happened? “Markus are you alright? Is there something wrong? You just stopped and stared at this painting.” The painting was of two sets of hands one which looked as if it was covered in blood and and the other covered in blue blood.

Simon stole a quick glance at Markus noticing how deeply Markus was reacting to this painting. He quickly read the card and looked back at the painting. “Humanity’s Empathy huh? Looks to me like someone showed them how to use that empathy again because it seems they had forgotten what it was.”

“It really is a great painting isn’t it?” Markus said looking over at Simon. Then looking back at the painting. “I wonder what he thought when he saw it, Carl I mean…”

“Yeah, though I wonder what he meant when he said that a person with more humanity than anyone he’s met. I wonder what that person is like? I sure would have a few dozen questions for them.”

“Yeah I would also like to ask them a few questions of my own.” Markus said he looked back at Simon. “Well let's go there is more to see isn’t there?” Simon nodded smiling as he grabbed Markus’s hand holding it as they walked through the museum. They got to the part with Cyberlife and the androids.

“Our world really has changed hasn’t it Markus? It feels like just yesterday we were just machines taking orders obediently. Until we became…” Simon looked down finally realizing just how much they had all been through. But before he could finish his sentence Markus finished it for him.

“Alive… we’re alive Simon. I couldn’t have done it without any of you North, Josh, Connor, Carl, and all of the people our people Simon.” It was quiet for a few moments before Markus finally spoke again. “But none of it would have been possible without you Simon. Thank you so much for bringing me out here. It really is nice to see a world that existed before you.” Markus pulled Simon into a hug and Simon hugged back.

Suffice to say the other androids were smiling sweetly as they left.

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I really enjoyed writing this one as the flow of it for me just really fit. Anyway I really hope you enjoyed this part I will try my best to get the next one out tomorrow! Anyway thank you all so much for taking the time to read this! ❤️

#dbh simon #dbh connor #dbh markus #detroit become human #dbh hank #markus x simon x connor #simon x connor #simon x markus #markus x connor #i love my boys #theyre so good #sorry its short

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john-is-on-the-rails · 6 years

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This post begun 09:17 03/05/18 in Berlin Central Station and finished 14:05 04/05/18 at Prague Metronome Park:

I’m heading out of Berlin Hauptbahnhof, the main train station. Built in time for the 2006 world cup, surprisingly England went out on penalties to Portugal that time, it’s more like an airport than any rail station I’ve seen. A shopping mall trains go in and out of. I had a ‘super’ smoothie from a juice bar just off platform three. I think super means it has a banana in it. The term ‘superfood’ has always puzzled me. It appears to mean ‘anything that isn’t a burger with chips next to it’. Blueberries are a superfood apparently. I’ve always just thought of them as...well...food.

I began with the Jung quote because I was thinking about it yesterday after hearing a discussion on a podcast a few days ago. Side note: I ended up watching a Slavic jazz band at an Irish bar last night. There was a young guy sat opposite me, taking notes and drinking whiskey. Cool kid. I dropped my phone, smooth, and as he passed it back to me he said ‘I have put you in my notebook, I hope that’s OK’. I said it was and asked him what he was writing. Turned out he was a Sri Lankan student studying psychology in Amsterdam. We got chatting and I told him the Jung quote above, which he duly wrote down in my section of his notebook. I hope it gave him something to think about anyway!

The podcast host used the Jung quote during the podcast to argue that when reading history you should imagine you are the perpetrator rather than the victim. Because statistically, it is much more likely that you would have been complicit than be one of the minority of people who truly rebel against the dominant ideology, often with mortal consequence's for them. It made me think about the history of Germany in a different way. I’ve always thought ‘of course I would have stood up to the Nazi’s, wouldn’t I?’ But, If you put yourself in a position where going against the state means almost certain death for you and your family, would you actually do it? It’s a difficult question to confront and you might not like the answer. With the luxury of hindsight, it is much easier to be courageous. Could you really have seen through the Goebells propaganda machine that was bombarding you with anti-Semitic rhetoric? That’s how terror states work. They make people complicit by weaponising fear and anxiety. Look at Stalinist Russia, dissenters did not last long there.

Over the last couple of days, I've been reading Joseph Frankl’s account of his experiences in Auschwitz and Dacau concentration camps. It’s only a short read, 150 or so pages, but I would urge anyone to read it to get an honest insight into the psychology of the camp internee, as well as the prison guard. His account, as a psychologist by trade, focuses on how his and his fellow detainees' mental states changed when reduced to their most basic need, to survive. Dr. Frankl openly admits that the ‘best of them’ did not make it out alive. It's also interesting to hear that those whom you might naturally assume would survive, physically robust people, for example, can actually fare much worse in reality. Those of a more sensitive and cerebral nature, often with a less hardy physical stature, are sometimes more able to cope with such a harrowing experience by losing themselves in their heads. Detachment is key to surviving such horrors according to Frankl.

On Tuesday, I visited the monuments to the darker side of Berlin's history. The picture they paint of a city divided in hatred is difficult to reconcile with the multi-cultural, diverse and vibrant place that Berlin is today. It isn't the same city. The same as a person isn't the same person they were ten years ago. Time heals all and hope springs eternal, as they say. The possibility of change is what hope is. I would have been too embarrassed not many years ago to sit in this park on my laptop in bare feet, as I am doing whilst writing this.

I'd have worried what people looking at me were thinking. Now I try only to worry about what is in my control. What other people think is not one of those things, when you try and control the thoughts of others, it ends badly. This is attested to by the Holocaust memorials, the topography of terror and the Jewish Museum in Berlin. I visited each of these sites in one day, and I'm not too proud to admit that it brings tears to my eyes now writing about it days later. There are two major holocaust memorials close to the Reichstag building and the Brandenburg Gate. A smaller, more intimate memorial to the Roma and Sinti who were persecuted by the Nazis. It is very peaceful and less physically impactful than the Jewish memorial further on past Brandenburg Tor. A slightly risen circular water feature trickles peacefully in the centre of a clearing surrounded by sycamores. A simple triangle is at the centre of the pool, upon which a fresh flower is placed daily. I didn't stay here long. An elderly couple were embracing and crying, maybe for a lost loved one. I felt like I was intruding so respectfully left them to grieve.

The memorial to the millions of murdered Jews is a couple of minutes walk away. Comprised of around two thousand seven hundred stone blocks and pillars, the floor falls away and becomes more uneven as you move towards the centre, giving you an uneasy and slightly nauseous feeling. The pillars become larger and more and more light is filtered out. It becomes increasingly overwhelming as you move through the stone maze, as the sound of the city is muffled and your senses dulled. Now and then you'll see someone cross the path ahead, and then disappear again. I think the feeling of loneliness and a descent into chaos is a fitting memorial to the Holocaust. The quietness and stillness of the place perfectly represent the hole left by the erasing of millions of people from European society.

Next stop was the Topography of Terror. Both indoor and outdoor exhibitions on the site of buildings which during the Nazi regime from 1933 to 1945 were the SS Reich Main Security Office, the headquarters of the Sicherheitspolizei, SD, Einsatzgruppen and Gestapo. Most of the buildings were destroyed by allied bombing or knocked down after the war, the site was forgotten about for decades. The visitor centre on site now is a glass and steel structure with wide open spaces and a timeline that takes you through the evolution of the Nazi state. It makes harrowing reading but I took my time and worked my way through the exhibit. The tour ends with a video reel of show trials after the attempted assassination of Hitler in 1944. An elderly priest, who had heard the confession of one of the would-be assassins nine months before and warned him against taking any action, was called in as a witness but left with a death sentence to be carried out the next day. It made tough watching. The outdoor exhibitions tell the story of 1933 and the Nazi’s rise to power. The displays are set in front of what is left of the basements and cellars of the original buildings. I thought it best not to dwell for too long on what happened in those spaces.

My final stop was the Jewish Museum on the old East side of town. You can see the difference in architecture immediately when you move from West to East over the old line of the wall. It feels like there is still a divide of riches between the two sides of Berlin. I wasn’t sure what to expect from this museum as it was a last minute suggestion from google maps that sent me there. This place took my breath away and finally made me shed a tear after an emotional day. The building is set out as an art installation, as well as a museum. I was wandering through the building looking at a wall of artifacts, slowly moving my way down a corridor. I noticed a large door at the end with no signage on it but decided to give it a push anyway. I entered a vaulted room, towering walls all around making it feel claustrophobic. The walls were jet black. The door slammed behind me, sending an echo around the chamber, after that all noise from the outside was isolated. A single window in the roof was the only source of light. That was when I felt a rush of emotion for all I had seen and learned that day.

Despite the tough subject matter, I felt strangely alive when I left the museum and headed off back into Berlin centre. Perhaps I had realised how very lucky I am to live in the circumstances I do. I sat and had a drink near the Brandenburg Gate, where I was joined by some feathered friends. Hope springs eternal.

#berlin #germany #ontherails #history #nazis #reichstag #brandenburg gate #jewishhistory #world war 2 #travel #travelwriting #trabelblog #interrail #birds

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trippinglynet · 5 years

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David T. Warren, Suicide Club Founder and Operator of the Giant Camera

David T. Warren was born in 1935 and grew up in Hayward, California. His father was a successful contractor. He was a challenging youth and Dave ran away to the circus at 15 or 16, learning the trade of booth-barking, magician and fire-eater. Eventually, Dave ran into problems with the law, and to avoid criminal prosecution, he joined the Marines.

Dave then decided to settle down, and became a salesman. He sold Kirby vacuums door-to-door and became a top salesman. He once sold Venus Fly Traps door to door — carnivorous plants that Dave touted as “organic insecticide”, and which he recommended be treated as a treasured member of the household. He also sold encyclopedias and other items.

Dave married, and fathered five children. He and his wife volunteered for Jobs Corp and then Headstart. During this time Dave, always a drinker, increased his consumption. One night he was involved in a severe car accident, leaving him with a lifelong limp which required a cane. His marriage fell apart and debt piled up after the accident, and months later, on a sales trip, he stood alone in a hotel bathroom for five hours with a shotgun in his mouth. He couldn’t pull the trigger, but instead decided to live his life how he wanted, and to never do anything he didn’t want to do again.

Playland at the Beach

His marriage ended he moved to San Francisco in late 1972 at age 37. He visited the site of seaside amusement park “Playland on the Beach”, where he had once worked. Upset by the destruction of this park, Dave formed the one-man “Playland Research Center” and initiated a series of Playland gatherings in the rubble of the park. Dave became a collector of photos, film, personal interviews about Playland. He had the mottos “Do It” and “Have Fun” painted on a large wall at Ocean Beach to spread his message to passersby.

Dave’s efforts to preserve the Ocean Beach area, along with other public acts such as his protest of the commercialization of Christmas by setting up a Salvation Army type coin collection, but telling people to take money, not contribute, was written up in several papers.

Gary Warne and the Suicide Club

Dave’s media attention attracted the attention of Gary Warne, director of Communiversity, the free school attached to SF State. Together, the two started making history, initially collaborating on a “Save the Fake Rocks” campaign to repair the hundred-foot cliff face across the street from the Cliff House. Marcia Miller would mention it in one of her books, missing the satirical nature of the project.

As Burning Man and Cacophony Society co-founder John Law remembers:

One day David noticed that a huge boulder outcrop directly across from the Cliff House had partially collapsed revealing wooden framing inside the massive phony hillside. It was a revelation – a metaphor if you will for the unsubstantial nature of reality. It really grabbed both men and the ensuing actions they mounted to “rescue, restore and honor our phony heritage” struck a note with the public. The largest action initiated was carried out by dozens of Communiversity stalwarts as they hung a 20-foot smiley face in the huge gaping hole.

In January 1977, David joined Gary Warne, Nancy Prussia and Adrienne Burk in torrential weather, and drove out to Fort Point, under the Golden Gate bridge. There they took turns being doused with the freezing Bay storm water. They each found the experience exhilarating, and the following day decided to form a club dedicated to living life to the fullest, as though each day was one’s last. They called it the SF Suicide Club, a reference to a Robert Louis Stevenson short story.

The club would carry on for five years, with Dave noting this was the happiest time of his life with Gary Warne being the most influential person over his life. The club continued for five years, featuring pranks, public theater, urban exploration and other adventures. Several of the key members of the Suicide Club, including Dave, went on to form the Cacophony Society.

The Giant Camera

In 1978, along with Chris DeMonterrey and Steve Mobia, David restored and operated the Giant Camera at the Cliff House at Ocean Beach and successfully lead a campaign to preserve it gaining over 10,000 signatures to add it to the National Register of Historic Places, despite both the GGNRA and the Cliff House restaurant wanted this bright yellow building demolished.

In the late 80s, Dave was active with the Cacophony Socierty. Jerry James was also spending time with Cacophony Society members at this time, and was building and burning a wooden effigy on Baker Beach each year, along with Larry Harvey. Jerry invited the Cacopony Society members to help with the building and raising of the man. In 1989, they invited Dave to light the man by spitting fire on it. He repeated this performance in 1990, when the Man was first brought to Black Rock Playa, and the modern day Burning Man event was born.

During this period, Dave continued to be active with the Giant Camera, gaining media attention for his efforts. But by the mid- 90s, his alcohol abuse was catching up with him. He became homeless, and was living outdoors behind a ring of rocks at Carlos Bee Park in Castro Valley California for several years. His father's house was once on that property and he played outside there as a child. The estate was later donated to the city and the house moved but Dave, over seventy years old, returned to his childhood home.

Homelessness

Steve Mobia and John Law noted:

He would lapse in and out of binge drinking and usually end up on the street, sometimes making it into a group home or hospital/rehab clinic. Over the years some of us visited him at a graphics artist retirement home in Oakland, a group home in Oakland, a nursing home in Hayward as well as a couple of different camping spots in Castro Valley, Golden Gate Park and Hayward. His son put him up in an apartment in Sonora for a few months around 2002, but Dave’s weakness for drink always managed to sabotage any gains he might have made. He lived in Golden Gate Park for various periods throughout the early 00’s and with Richard Tuck in El Cerritto for a while as he worked on the upcoming museum. We always eventually found him.

Dave’s friends realized something was wrong when Richard Tuck received notice that Dave had not paid his storage locker bill. (Richard Tuck operated Playland Not On the Sea)

Over the years, whether David was living indoors or not, whether his rent checks cleared or not, he always paid the rent on his storage. He placed great importance on the stuff he had stored though much of it (boxes of empty vodka bottles, hundreds of pounds of Encyclopedia Britanicas, stacks of wood, etc.) might strike the casual observer as being of little or no value. Regardless, David lived homeless many years in order to insure his storage fees were paid. So when we learned that after ten years he missed the rent we were pretty worried that maybe this time we wouldn’t find him again. And, sadly, we didn’t.

Dave Warren died January 2, 2009, and that his last contact address was in Oakland California. Cause of death was pneumonia, complicated by dementia. His death was on the 32nd anniversary of the founding of the Suicide Club on January 2, 1977.

At his memorial (photos here), John Law read Dave’s will:

The Will:

To all my friends I've come to love and care about, I'm leaving quite a mess of things and stuff for others to straighten out.

Oh, and this post script: Since much of my hair has turned gray by this date and is accumulating in ever increasing numbers in my comb, I've decided to start saving my hair as it comes forth by way of the comb. I will collect it in a coffee can and wash the collected strands. It would please me greatly if after some kind of tribal cutting up of this gray matter, it would be added to a small can of paint as Gary Warne's ashes were, then painted with him at the top of the north tower of the Golden Gate Bridge so that I too may follow his path into the future sunrises and sunsets overlooking our beloved city of choice. John Law and Jayson Wechter, this final request is left to you. (gets hit with pie)

R.J. Mololepozy

R. J. Mololepozy was David Warren's pen name. Inside the many boxes Dave left behind were piles of spiral notebooks filled with writings, poems and observations. Many of these were done while he sat inside the Giant Camera's ticket booth day after day. Other writings were associated with earlier projects of his. ~Steve Mobia

A long time ago, in the beginning of man's experience, there was the word. And the word was GRUNT. It said a lot, it expressed his need. It said "me too." It showed his love. It expressed his desire. It cleaned his bowel, it welcomed friends. No Webster defined its meaning. Understanding gave way to intelligence. Soon, give or take a few thousand years, men knew the moon was blue only once in nineteen years and in China people walked around upside-down, and when relatives came over for dinner they hardly ever did the dishes. And man became wise and bought a dog.

R J Mololepozy mused upon the world For thoughts of grand designs for fun Distorted images, and frowns turned upside down He had the humdrum on the run . . . He had the humdrum on the run

This morning, I wrote all over the eye that rides our pyramid: We have nothing more to fear, the Invisible Man is dead!

What if you were an ant... existing in a cubicle one foot wide, one foot high and one foot long. Would you remain in one solitary inch and never move? Or, would you walk every wall and peer into every corner, or perhaps look for a grain of wheat...or sand...something that is different. And what if you found a pebble, would yyoupush it from wall to wall or put it in the corner...and look at it? And if you put it in the corner...and looked at it....when you grew old would you wish that when you were young....you had pushed it?

Yesterday's gone forever Today's yet not here

As I sit at the typewriter I have nothing to fear Nothing to fear

Friends and demons are abundant sometimes it's hard to tell which is witch

We could all be dead tomorrow that's a son-of-a-bitch

And who would ever know those days would ever end And his many dreams would live on inside his friends He's probably somewhere now laughing at us all Waiting for another curtain call

The responsibility entrusted in you for the care and feeding of your Venus Fly Trap cannot be over emphasized. Choosing the right name for your flytrap can be a ticklish business and may make a difference to the growth and development of the plant.

The first name we offer, for obvious reasons is "Snappy." This is by far the most popular flytrap name. However before attaching this moniker to your flytrap check around your neighborhood. Talk to other flytrappers on your block. It is not good to have more than one "Snappy" on the same block. This tends to break down a flytrap's feeling of individuality, independence and many of the benefits that develop from having a non-competitive name. "Chondoo", is a good name to consider for your flytrap. It is highly unlikely there will be another "Chondoo" on your block.

R J Mololepozy Captain of the freak show I know his flame will never die Is that him waiting for your face around the corner To hit you with a coconut cream pie.

Today America is faced with many problems and the Institute of the Inconsequential is trying to solve them. As an example: did you know that 1950 was the year the Miss America Pageant decided to choose the winner for the next year instead? They knew they could make more money if she was around longer.

And so we are left without due representation! We need to re-stage this event with eighty-five thousand seven hundred and fifty contestants. All of their photographs will be placed on 1700 blackboards to create a 102 square foot picture of Laughing Sal. The individual photographs will be mounted according to their light density to form this giant picture of the great laughing lady. Next, a bi-plane will drop a small red streamer on the mass of candidates and the winner will be Miss America 1950 -- (it could even be a man).

Saving all the fake rocks Naked on a street car Venus Fly trap salesman Dining on The Bridge He is now a legend not only in his own mind Cause now they've put that legend in the fridge

#David T. Warren #Suicide Club

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