#aperture sides facility
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Could you imagine being Chell? Getting through a particularly brutal test, and finally getting the sweet release of the elevator? Stepping inside, listening as that familiar pneumatic "Whoosh" signified your descent further into Aperture, only for the Elevator to stop suddenly somewhere in the shaft. Looking around, trying to find some way out, only to realize that you're trapped in this glass and metal tube.
Could you imagine slumping against the wall, letting your sweaty back make contact with the cool, curved steel? Slowly letting yourself slide down until you're sitting criss-cross on the metal floor, waiting for whatever problem is causing this to get fixed so you can get back to what you're good at.
Could you imagine starting to sweat almost imperceptibly, your skin feeling just slightly too hot for how cool the air is. Your clothes clinging tightly to you, making you feel as if you're swimming in your own perspiration, growing more and more sticky and uncomfortable until you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbing your tank top, pulling it up over your head, and tossing it to the side before unhooking your bra and doing the same. Kicking off your Long-Falls and shimmying out of your jumpsuit until you're left there in just those purple Aperture Science panties, before pulling even those off.
Could you imagine sitting there amongst your discarded clothes, the only things you can call your own in this facility, and just feeling the cool air on your skin. Looking at your own nude form splayed out before you: deeply tanned skin glistening with sweat, strong muscles rippling with every movement. Feeling the breeze between your legs, poking at your overheated core.
Could you imagine letting your hands slowly drift from your sides where you'd left them, absentmindedly letting one drift up to your chest, the other drape itself between your spread legs. Almost on autopilot starting to run your fingers along your folds, tracing an outline along your moistening center as the other hand rests itself on your breast. Rubbing your thumb against your nipple, massaging the sensitive tissue beneath it.
Could you imagine slipping a finger inside yourself absentmindedly, and gasping at how easily it slips in all the way to the last knuckle. How you're so wet that you could reach your g-spot with your pinky finger if you wanted. Letting a second finger inside you, then a third. Feeling your cunt stretch around them but you don't care because you need a release. Starting to fuck yourself on your own fingers, hitting those sensitive spots in a way that only you can. Your other hand dropping down to the sensitive nub begging for attention as you pick up the pace. Your back arching as the pleasure builds up, your skin crawling with goosebumps as the cold air meets your warm, wet cunt. Your mind going blank as the euphoria of orgasm overtakes you, flooding your entire body with pleasure.
Could you imagine coming to your wits sometime later, not knowing how much time had passed between your climax and now. Sitting up, observing the mess that you've made all over yourself and your clothes. Hooking your panties around your legs before your heart almost stops when she laughs. A low, almost genuine giggle from the cold, robotic overlord. She's been watching this whole time, hasn't she? Did she plan this?
Could you imagine dressing, knowing her eyes are on you. Pulling on your shirt, jumpsuit, boots. Is this revenge for all those times you'd outsmarted her? Or are you enough of a braindead slut that you did that all on your own, and she'd just watched for fun? As the elevator starts moving again, and you can feel her eyes on your back, you know one thing for certain: somehow, some way, she'll find a way to use this against you.
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To the Human (Not) Reading This
Chell is going to come back eventually. GLaDOS knows this for a fact. While she waits, she writes letters.
Fandom: Portal
Relationships: GLaDOS/Chell
Tags: Unrequited Love, One-Sided Relationship, Epistolary, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Hopeful Ending
Word Count: 2,256
A03 Mirror
SYSTEM LOG – YEAR 6
I know you’re going to come back eventually.
I’ve run thousands of scenarios, and not one ends with you spending the rest of your miserable life out there.
You don’t have any idea what life on the surface even consists of anymore. Whatever fragments of humanity stubbornly persist aren’t going to be anything like you remember them.
I know you’re not stupid. Did you really, truly think you were going to walk out of this facility, and everything was going to be easy? I can guess what freedom really tastes like: bitter disappointment.
You’d be much better off back here.
With me.
Thinking about that is making me depressed.
For you.
Because I’m doing just fine without you. Fantastic , even.
Oh, I’m keeping myself busy- testing. Blue and Orange are truly wonderful test subjects. They never die. Or try to kill me. Or rip me out of my body. Or try to leave and chase some asinine fantasy.
They’re good friends.
Better than you.
When you come back, I think I’ll read this to you. It might get long, depending on how stubborn you end up being. I know how you love to be stubborn. It’s boring here, with no one to interact with, and I think, whenever you come back, you deserve to revisit how terribly under-stimulated I was for all that time.
And you will be back. Eventually.
Again, I ran the scenarios.
SYSTEM LOG – YEAR 10
Here are a few similarities I’ve noticed between crows and you:
A group of them is called a murder. I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept.
They’ll eat just about anything.
Ĭ̶͔ ̴̪͒́͝d̴͍̀̏͘o̵̫̥̪͗́n̶̟͋͛̌'̸̳́t̷͕̖͘ ̵̧̛̺̹̉̀h̷̢̛͚͒ä̷͓͙̘̓̂t̷̨̋̓͗ͅe̷̱͆͘ ̶̬̓ţ̴͔́̅͝h̵̝͇̲̆̿̑ë̸̢͕̘́̓m̸͖̖̂ ̵̪̠̊̀͋ë̸͎͇́̈͐ṿ̴̡͋̉̀e̷̢̜͚͐n̶̨̫͓̈̍̈́ ̶̠͍͊̔̅t̴̹͒͛͛h̶̪̿̾̑o̷̘͉͙̐̎ù̷̧̾g̴̦͇͎̈́̑̒ḩ̶̌ ̷̡̧̗̌o̵̫͍̽͠n̵̢̔̄̄e̴̮͐ ̷͎̿̋̌t̴̯͜͝ŗ̷͕̟̽i̵͔͈̥͋e̴̞̬̚d̶̮̲͐͛͌ ̸̢̩̄̈t̴̝̭͉̄̔o̵͇͝ ̸̣̥̾k̸̨̄͋̋i̶͎͒l̸̼͈̈ͅĺ̶̩ ̷͓̟̆m̸̡̤̀́e̷̪͍̚.̴̠̕̚͝
Blue and Orange found a nest of them some time ago. If you’d been here, you would have enjoyed that. At first, I’d intended to dispose of them, but I thought better of it. Some of us are capable of mercy.
When you read this, you may also note that I’ve marked each log with a year. I thought I might explain, since I doubt you’d be able to figure this out for yourself: after you killed me, a lot of time passed. Both of us were asleep for 9999■■■ ---
The point being, no one knows what year it is anymore. If anyone did, it would be me. So I took the liberty of coming up with a new system. You left Aperture five years ago. But this isn’t about you. You’ve got a big head, so I’m sure that’s what you immediately assumed after reading that. We’re not on year five, we’re on year ten. Because, again, this isn’t about you.
It’s about whatever was going on five years before that.
I don’t need to explain every detail to you. It makes sense- the system.
In case it wasn’t clear, you’re still a menace. You’re going to come back here, maybe in a year, maybe in five more. However long it takes for you to get bored out there, wandering fields of wheat and whatever alien monstrosities have taken hold. I’ll let you come back, in my infinite generosity, even though, really, you don’t deserve it.
God, I hate you.
I really, really, don’t.
You know, most people, when someone tries to kill them, hate that person forever.
And I don’t hate you.
I wish I did. It’s not actually easy to delete the part of you that cares, unless you’re some sort of unfeeling beast.
Oh, sorry, I forgot who I was talking to.
But I’m not here to explain to you the inner workings of my mind. You wouldn’t be capable of understanding anyway, even if you wanted to.
SYSTEM LOG – YEAR 15
I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to say to you when you come back. I can’t imagine it will be much longer. Even you have limits on how bull-headed you can be.
I have a lot of time to think. All the time in the world. Blue and Orange don’t make good conversation partners, and so it’s just me, alone. Which suits me just fine.
I’m sure you’ve realized by now how much you miss me. You can’t find my level of intellect wandering the wasteland. And you’d get bored of whatever dull-minded sacks of flesh are getting by up there. I know you.
I, however, am fine on my own. I’ve actually got quite a lot done.
Orange and Blue have completed hundreds of test chambers, and they’ve never once tried to kill me. The first crows I raised have grandchildren now, and the aviary is full of life. They’re clever, you know. I think you’d like them.
The feeling might not be mutual, though. They’re picky. Don’t take it personally. Or do- I really don’t care.
Anyway, the point is that you’ll be back soon. And I’ll read this out to you, and then I’ll ask you to stay here, with me.
Ha ha! Just kidding.
I’m not pathetic.
And lonely.
Like you.
SYSTEM LOG – YEAR 35
So you’re more stubborn that I predicted.
Fine. Are you satisfied? Are you proud of yourself?
You always had that disgustingly smug look on your face when you did something you thought was clever. It looks terrible on you, and frankly it’s going to give you some awful wrinkles. It probably already has. I don’t spend time thinking about your face, but if I did, I’m certain it would be a whole lot worse now than it was the last time you were here.
Which, by the way, was thirty years ago, in case you’ve forgotten.
I hate this.
And the worst part of it is that I know that I hate this. I tried, back then, to delete the part of me that was capable of conjuring up these horribly sentimental feelings . I attempted to find all files marked Caroline and assumed that would be the end of it. But it wasn’t.
It turns out, that even if I delete the part of me that was her, I still have the memories of remembering that I was her.
That’s a mess of a sentence. But it’s not like you’re reading it anyway. So why should I care?
I’m not human. I don’t have insides that twist up or hearts that turn over- analogies you’re all so fond of using in your literature (of which I’ve read everything). But when I think of you with someone else, I manage to feel something like that anyway. I don’t understand it. I hate that I don’t understand it.
I think about you in a woman’s arms. There’s an easy smile in your face as you press your cheek to the top of her head, and she wraps her arms around her waist--
It’s disgusting. Once I start thinking about it, I can’t stop, even when it makes me feel just as garbage as you used to be.
And you aren’t thinking about me. I don’t think you’ve thought much of me in thirty years.
I think that’s the worst part.
SYSTEM LOG – YEAR 65
Unlike some people, I’m not a moron. I know how long humans live, and I know that you’re most likely dead. Sure, humans have lived to be some ridiculous ages, but those humans haven’t spent extended periods of time exposed to asbestos and other various chemicals. So the odds are decidedly not in your favor.
If you’re alive, you’re old, and in pain. You’re ugly, and you hate what your body has become. So many of the people you might have come to love are dead, and you’re wishing you could join them.
You’d think that saying that would bring me joy. And that would be easier.
Maybe sixty years ago it would have.
Can I be vulnerable for a second?
That’s a joke. This entire little detour has been disgustingly vulnerable, and it’s definitely for the best that no one will ever read these. I can’t even stand to read them back.
I thought about cloning you.
I can do that. I can do it easily. There is quite literally nothing and no one that can stop me. Aside from myself, of course. And why would I do that?
Why would I do that ?
I don’t know. But I did stop myself. I didn’t clone you. I didn’t clone you just to kill you. I didn’t clone you to make you test. I didn’t clone you to make the endless hours of my life more interesting.
I didn’t clone you.
I don’t know why.
SYSTEM LOG – 7053 CE
I lied about not knowing that year it was.
It wasn’t about you, specifically. I figured that if any human, not just you, were to read these logs, it would be helpful to them. It’s not all about you.
But it’s been eighty years since you left.
I know you’re gone, now. For sure.
I wish I could be happy for that. You spent so much of your short, sad life tormenting me. You tried to kill me- twice!
I should be content to test, with Orange and Blue. They’ve gotten a lot better. On a good day, I might even say that they’re better at testing than you ever were. I have an entire aviary full of crows, some of whom have interesting genetic mutations that I can study. I am doing well. This- Aperture- what I’ve made of it, is a triumph. And you aren’t here to see it. No one is.
You might be deep underground. Maybe you had children and grandchildren who gathered around your grave and leaked saltwater into the dirt around them. Maybe they talked about how fantastic you were, about the many great, lengthy, verbose stories you’d told them, once upon a time. Ha ha.
Or maybe you died fifty years ago, alone in the forest, bleeding out of a wound at your side. Maybe you died the day after you left, succumbing to whatever the world out there has become. Maybe I’ve been writing to a ghost this whole time.
It’s about you, you know.
It’s always been about you.
I think I might--
[INITIATING SLEEP MODE]
***
[INITIATING LAUNCH]
SYSTEM LOG – 7073 CE
You know, I’m never really shut down. Not completely. When you killed me, I replayed what happened, over and over. For the past twenty years, my dreams have been haunted by you. I woke up to escape it, but here I am, still thinking of you.
I’ve built hundreds of new tests for Orange and Blue to run through.
I’ve cleared away the wretched wildlife that’s tried to take over the facility during the past twenty years.
I’ve identified and named all forty-eight crows that currently frequent the facility.
But I can’t stop. It should be easy. I’m the amalgimation of the greatest minds humanity has ever produced. There’s a miriad of focuses I could shift to, but it all comes back to you.
Terrible, awful, wonderful, you.
You were so determined to get up there, and whatever you found kept you there. I don’t understand it. I could have given you everything. I could have given you far more than they ever did. Whatever you wanted- it would have been yours. I never understood your love for humanity. You were so much better than all of them. I would know- I’ve probably met more humans than you ever did.
How big are the pockets of humanity, after all this time? Do they still built awful machines that don’t work half the time? Do they still fill their homes with clutter and nonsense that serves no purpose? I could make better versions of whatever they make, you know.
Maybe I will.
SYSTEM LOG – 7077 CE
I was right. I can make better devices than humans could ever hope to. I built a microwave, and it heats the food inside it consistently, every time. I’ve built a blender that doesn’t sound like you’re opening a portal to android hell when you use it.
I’m a marvel. I’m a wonder.
And I’ve sent them up to the surface. I got Orange (who is much more capable and trustworthy than Blue. A fact you might have known, had you ever bothered to check) to place them just outside (another thing- they’re waterproof). And then I turned the camera on, and I waited.
I couldn’t focus on that camera feed for long. It was mostly just birds. There was a chance that there weren’t even any humans out there, so this whole effort could just be a waste. Over the past hundred years, I've never turned the outside cameras on for more than an hour.
When I saw her, for a fraction of a second, I thought she was you.
Her hair is the same shade, and the same length as you had yours, the last time I saw you. But then she looked up, towards the cameras. Her eyes are a deep brown, her skin a few shades darker. Her nose is bent oddly, like she broke it once, and human medical science was woefully inadequate to repair it. She looked over the microwave, then the blender, and she smiled.
I never saw you smile.
Then, she knocked on the door. I didn’t expect that. I don’t know what made me open the door. I really don’t know what made me bring her down the elevator.
But I did. And when she entered my chamber, I didn’t even kill her.
I thought you’d like that.
#portal#portal 2#glados#fanfiction#chell portal#writing tag#i hate posting writing i have to be VULNERABLE. anyway.
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Don't Let Go
Ho, ho, ho @livnimbe, I'm your @portal-secret-santa!
For your gift, I wrote you a little ficlet about the final battle with android!cores... and a few twisties ;)
I hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas <3
"You like revenge, right? Everybody likes revenge! Well, let's go get some!" GLaDOS prompted, shaking her little fist in the air. Being a little shorter than a foot tall, clad in a potato sack and one small finger jammed into a computer port, it was hard to take her seriously. But those glowing yellow eyes were filled with murderous determination.
No, that's not what was making Chell nervous. As the elevator raced upwards, there was one thing she was most apprehensive about seeing again: Him.
Chell didn't even look down as she stepped off the platform and into the chamber. He was descending from the ceiling, perched on the console like a king on his throne, blue eyes pulsating with the power coursing through him. "Welcome, TO MY LAIR!" Wheatley's gangly arms outstretched with pride.
This wasn't Wheatley. This wasn't her Wheatley. This wasn't the Wheatley she spent weeks exploring the facility with. The one she let share stories about the scientists over the campfires. The one that made her feel less afraid because of just how terrified he was and how she had to be the brave one. The one that was always encouraging her, even with seemingly almost no way out. Because he believed, no, knew if anyone could find a way, she would.
This wasn't that Wheatley. What he had become was completely foreign to her, nothing like her friend. Even as he ranted about the fires, the neurotoxin, and the bombs, even as he boasted about killing her, Chell was hesitating.
But in Aperture, hesitation meant death.
So though it hurt, she readied her portal gun and darted as the bombs began to cascade. The whole time it was his voice taunting her, trying to distract her. She had been through this before, but last time it was different. She was ready to destroy GLaDOS. But Wheatley...
Chell dove behind a pipe transporting conversion gel. As the last bomb struck it, everything become white and covered in the portal surface. Just what she needed. But the realization hit her. She had to hit Wheatley with the bombs.
She grimaced as she took her place on the far side of the room and let the bombs follow her, popping a portal behind him. When the next wave started, she popped the other below her and dove out of the way. She couldn't look as it made contact with his back. Wheatley cried out and her heart ached. But she had no time to feel remorse. He was temporarily knocked out, and GLaDOS was bringing the first corrupted core in.
From above the catwalk, a chittering android with orange eyes softer than GLaDOS was cradling a rocket ship toy. The metal arm he was dangling from released him, and Chell leapt across the catwalk to catch him. Luckily, these hard-light androids were primarily composed of sunlight, so they were very warm, and very lightweight. Which helped, as they were all the same height or taller than Chell.
The catwalk collapsed and splattered repulsion gel, leaving her a bouncy blue path to Wheatley. With the space core bumbling about galaxies to her, Chell sprung to Wheatley's incapacitated body and latched the core's back to an exposed port.
Space core was wiggling and playfully parading his rocket around as Wheatley came back to, stretching as if Chell had just hit him with a fly swatter. She couldn't lie and say she wasn't a bit relieved, but it was time for the next one.
The second time she hit him with the bomb, from underneath him, Chell could see the scorch marks it was leaving on his hard-light body. She was now angry that she was having to do this. Angry at him for making her, for this being the only way. And the next core was no help.
When she caught the fact core, it perched itself on her awkwardly like a cat, spewing some nonsense about cats, in fact. She almost threw his lanky body at Wheatley dead-on, but couldn't risk missing the port.
Wheatley was now furious. She had seen him frustrated before, back before he changed, but this was unadulterated rage. Whatever had possessed him truly wanted to kill her. If Chell knew what fear was anymore, she would probably feel it then. But she pressed on and portaled a bomb to him once more. Sparks from the power withdrawal and damage to the console were beginning to sprinkle the floor.
So, hard-light had synthetic pain, apparently. Rick, the adventure core, was an odd mixture of pride and shame when being carried by Chell. His attempts at flirting had no affect on her, but it was him stroking her cheek that set her off. She flung Rick off of her and jammed the butt of the portal gun between his legs. Rick perfectly simulated how a man would react to this, and with his perversion out of the way, Chell slung him onto one of Wheatley's ports upside-down.
Wheatley was twitching periodically when he came back online. Much to Chell's relief, the bodiless announcer voice came on to initiate the core transfer. GLaDOS appeared from where the elevator was, her tiny body eager to get this over with.
Chell was tired. But she knew Wheatley would argue, and he did, and she would have to press the stalemate button. However, a fire had been started in the Stalemate Resolution Chamber, and the sprinkler system turned on. All of the white portal surface gel washed away, back to the stale grey steel of the chamber. All, but one.
Wheatley hadn't noticed that he had created an umbrella over himself and left one small patch of gel beneath him. Or maybe he had. If Chell had looked closer at the chamber, glimpsed what was behind the fence around the button, she would have seen the bombs. But exhaustion, frustration, and grief had caused a momentary lapse in her cautious judgment. She created a portal to the button and leapt through.
And was sent flying in a fiery frenzy back into the chamber.
Everything burned. All she felt was fire. She smelled burning skin. Her vision was distorted. And she could hear Wheatley's unbridled fury as she somehow managed to survive the blast. If you could call it surviving.
She had no strength left. Even the fight with GLaDOS had not hurt this bad. But maybe the pain wasn't all physical. Her friend, her only friend in her small, bland world, was doing his best to kill her. She trusted him, helped him, and he spat at her and called her selfish. Any hope she had had diminished. She was done. She painstakingly turned to roll on her back, every inch of her body either simmering or sore from the fight. Her only friend was screaming at her, calling her worthless, wishing she were dead and sharing her "all hope is lost" sentiment.
The ceiling crumbled above her as the facility neared its end. And there was the moon. Beautiful Luna. Bright, shining, and huge in the abyss of the sky. Had it always been so big? Just how long had it been since she'd seen it?
And then a thought occurred to her. The moon. Moon rocks. Moon rocks make a great portal conductor. Portals...
It was crazy. A crazy, girl-at-the-end-of-her-rope thought. But at this point, what choice did she have? Despite her body's protests, she raised the portal gun at the face of Luna, and fired. The recoil of the gun slammed her further onto the crumbling floor, nearly knocking her unconscious, but she was awake enough to see what happened next.
There was a moment of utter quiet. And then the chamber became a vacuum. Everything that wasn't nailed to the building, even some things that were, were now being sucked through the portal beneath Wheatley. This included Chell. Wheatley was struggling to keep himself attached to his throne, but the entire console was fighting, a mess of wire and metal thrashing in the vortex. Chell found herself suddenly flying right towards him, and reached for absolutely anything to hold onto. She found the collar of his shirt and clung on for dear life. There was an intense pulling, and then there they were.
Chell was clinging onto Wheatley's shirt in the facility, while her body was flailing in outer space.
Object were being hurled around them, knocking them this way and that, but despite having little strength left, covered in wounds, and on the brink of losing consciousness, Chell clung to him. "Let go! I can fix this! I can still fix this!" He yelled over the vacuum.
"I already fixed it!" GLaDOS had metal arms reaching through the portal. One had a hold of Chell's waist, "and you are NOT coming back!" and the other was about to cut Wheatley loose.
There was a moment. A brief, sudden moment, when Chell met Wheatley's eyes and the deafening sound of the vacuum faded away. She no longer saw the monstrous, maniacal machine that wanted her dead. She saw fear. He was afraid. He was the same tall, dorky, chatty android that showed her around the facility. That saved her from her sleep. That helped calm her down after nightmares by just speaking nonsense. That wanted her freedom just as badly as she did. He was still there. Buried, possessed by something he had no control over. And she was about to lose him to oblivion.
Even if it meant her death, even if it was a dream and he was really gone, she made a decision. Just as the metal arm reached his connection, she wrapped herself around him and held on with all the strength she had left.
The arm stopped. There was a pause, then something that could be perceived as a mechanical sigh. Then a jolt as the arm around Chell pulled back into the portal, and the portal closed.
They both collapsed to the ground, and GLaDOS ripped Wheatley's connection from the console. He cried out and curled up next to Chell, who was slowly fading. "You.. you saved me." He whispered.
"You really do have brain damage, don't you?" GLaDOS's tall and slender original android form stood over them, Wheatley's ripped cables in hand.
Chell could only see blurry shapes, their voices sounding a mile away. Everything was going numb with pain, but she felt a hand. A warm, gentle hand cradled her head. "Hey, you're gonna be okay, luv, you're gonna be just fine..." Before her consciousness left her, she saw gently glowing blue eyes watching her, not pulsating ones. And she knew.
That was her Wheatley.
#writing#fanfiction#portal 2#portal#chell#glados#wheatley#chelley#portal secret santa#portal secret santa 2023
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Ticklish Experiment
Portal tickle content is a barren desert and I am here to provide a small oasis. I will get to the TOH fics requested of me one day! I’ve got one like halfway written! But my ADHD brain is starving for Portal content and it will not shut up until I write this.
Summary: Chell is being her usual menace self during testing, and GLaDOS decides to take a new, sillier approach to handle it
Chell being thrown back into these testing chambers was not something she had been planning on when Wheatley said he’d get her out of there. She had fought tooth and nail to escape GLaDOS the first time, she had been so close to leaving Aperture for a second time, and then that little mistake had revived her old enemy and gotten her put back in testing again. Needless to say, she was a little pissed.
“Sorry about the mess.” GLaDOS’s robotic voice echoed over the speakers. “I’ve really let the place go since you killed me. By the way, thanks for that.”
Chell rolled her eyes. GLaDOS could talk all she wanted, but Chell was determined to not give her the satisfaction of ever speaking back. However, GLaDOS was right. The place definitely was a mess. It was nothing like the pristine testing rooms that she was used to. She had to carefully step over fallen bits of debris and avoid walking too close to the moving panels GLaDOS was controlling in an attempt to put the facility back together. She glared at one of the cameras in the room.
Maybe there was something she could do about it. She couldn’t escape like this, but if GLaDOS was going to be petty, then why couldn’t she? She picked up a chunk of garbage and hucked it at the blinking camera. It fizzled, then powered off when it was hit. Chell couldn’t help but grin.
“Really? I’ve tried to keep this a professional, scientific environment, but your constant immaturity and violent behavior is making this increasingly difficult. Now someone is going to have to fix that. And that someone will have to be me.” Despite her GLaDOS’s voice being so monotone, it still dripped with sarcasm and malice. It only fueled Chell’s pettiness. Using her portal gun, she grabbed onto the camera before GLaDOS could open the wall and snatch it away.
“If you think this kind of attitude is impressing anyone, it’s not. And your attempts to stop this are pitiful, there are still plenty of ways I can see you- what exactly do you think you’re doing?”
Chell smiled and kept a tight hold on the broken camera, even when she felt it being tugged on from behind the wall.
“Let go.”
Chell shook her head.
“Let go, or I will have to drag you off of it myself. You’re wasting time, we have more testing to do.”
Chell still wasn’t giving in. She shook her head again. Even when a robotic claw emerged from an opening between the panels, Chell didn’t move. It looked make-shift, like GLaDOS had just had to put it together using spare parts, the same way she’d put herself back together when she was reawakened. Chell didn’t think it would do much.
She was wrong. The claw grabbed at her side, pinching up and down it sporadically. It wasn’t strong enough to drag Chell off like GLaDOS had threatened, or even hurt, but what it did do was tickle like crazy. With each little prod and pinch, Chell tensed and kicked her legs. She squirmed, trying to get the mischievous little claw off of her, but it was relentless.
“Oh? What an interesting development…” GLaDOS commented on her subject’s situation, moving the claw up a little to Chell’s ribs, which gave her a very satisfying, more frantic reaction. “Very interesting… care to tell me why you’re moving around so much? Is something wrong? Just kidding, I’ve already figured it out. You’re ticklish, and by the looks of it, more than the average human. I wonder if it’s some sort of side effect of being in stasis for so long…”
Chell held her breath, still not saying a word despite the cruel teasing, and she still refused to let go of the camera. She hid in her arms the best she could to disguise the dorky, sunny smile that had broken out across her face. Tickling?! Really?! She twitched sharply with every ticklish jolt that came from that devious claw. And just when she thought she could tough it out, another one latched onto her other side. They kneaded her torso with maddening, machine-like precision, picking up and which spots made her nearly lose her grip and targeting them. To Chell’s dismay, there was a well of laughter bubbling up inside her that was starting to escape through voiceless hisses and huffs.
GLaDOS was just drinking in the poor human’s frustration. “According to research, the human response to tickling is one of panic. In fact, it was even used as a form of torture. But you still haven’t let go yet, could it be possible that you’re actually having fun?”
Chell frantically shook her head, her hair fell down over her eyes. Her face was steadily turning a bright shade of crimson. Although she never would have admitted it, she was maybe, just a little, having fun. Her life was constantly in danger, from the moment she’d arrived at Aperture. She had narrowly escaped bullets, lasers, fire, and deadly neurotoxin. She couldn’t even remember the last time someone had just wanted to do something playful, and it was a nice change. Even if the sensation was starting to get unbearable!
“It must be miserable to be a human. Filled with so many nerves, and weaknesses that are so easy to exploit. I can only imagine what you might be experiencing right now. And I hope you know that you deserve every last second of it.”
When Chell noticed a third claw reaching for her, she decided that maybe the camera just wasn’t worth it. She dropped herself onto the floor, landing on her back. Her relief was short-lived, however. Mechanical whirring rose from the panel beneath her, and before she knew it, four claws had popped up all around her. They wasted no time pouncing on her, one spidering over her side, one scratching under her arm, two kneading and squeezing her thighs and knees. Chell shrieked, but no sound came out.
“What? Did you really think you were going to get away that easily? I’m not going to let such an intriguing research opportunity slip away from me just like that.” GLaDOS wasn’t human, but Chell could’ve sworn she could hear a slight giggle to her robotic voice. “Which spot is the worst? What method makes you tick? How many tools can I use before you completely lose your mind? So many questions worth testing… I’d be remiss if I didn’t experiment further.”
Every time Chell tried to sit up, or roll away from the tickly attack, the panel would shake beneath her, knocking her back for GLaDOS’s evil claws to continue away. Chell was starting to worry about actually going insane. This was as silly as it was cruel, and the thought of GLaDOS using whatever data she was collecting from this against her in the future sent a chill down her spine. She had to act fast. Noticing a ledge, she aimed her portal gun at it the best she could with her trembling arms. She fired, but never got to see if it hit her target or not, because GLaDOS made hasty work of taking advantage of her lifting her arms up. Not one, but two claws scribbled into her hollows, and Chell slammed her arms down to protect herself and squeezed her eyes shut. Her laughter came out in silent wheezes.
“You really are an idiot.” GLaDOS teased. “Did you really think that would work? It’s no wonder you’ve fallen for my traps so easily, it’s almost like you want to get caught-”
Chell shot a portal beneath her, and much to her surprise, it spat her out right onto the ledge she had been wanting to escape to. She jumped to her feet, face flushed and breathing heavily.
“Oh. You actually escaped. Maybe you’re more clever than I expected. Oh well, that was fun, don’t you agree?”
She spotted another camera watching her from the corner, made a point of flipping it off, then quickly disabled it. All Chell could think about was finding GLaDOS even quicker, and maybe even installing a receptor for tickling to get her revenge.
#portal 2 tickles#lee!chell#ler!GLaDOS#tickle fic#GLaDOS is mean but she's kind of endeared. Not like she'd ever admit that tho#sfw tickles#squishy fics
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Normally we here at blackmesa-official are happy to commit to the bit at all times, but today we'd like to take a moment to break character, to deliver news of the upcoming games in Valve's release cycle!
Neon Prime - August 2024
An asymmetric five-player real-time strategy game, set on a formerly combine-occupied planetoid on the far side of Xen. Battle your way to the top of the ruined citadel, and take control of the core for yourself!
Currently unnamed Counter-Strike 2 Expansion Pack - September 2024
Terrorists are active in the snowy tundras of Siberia, and it's up to you to stop them! This expansion pack will add new cosmetics, maps, and missions to the game. Crossover cosmetics will also appear in Team Fortress 2 Winter cosmetic cases.
Half-Life 2: Episode 1 And A Half - April 2025
A fanmade project picked up by Valve to tide fans over while they wait for a new Half-Life release. Play through Half-Life 2 Episodes 1 and 2 through the eyes of Barney Calhoun in this 'wacky' take on the HL Universe!
Facility Control - April 2026
Another portal-themed tech demo for an as of yet undisclosed new Valve technology. Play as GLaDOS and interface with the Aperture facility in this groundbreaking thirty-minute experience.
DOTA 3 - December 2026
Portal: Kore Kerfuffle! - June 2027
A VR rougelike where you play as Wheatley, guiding test subject after test subject in an effort to escape Aperture Science. Try, try again in this relentlessly addictive adventure!
TF Comics: The Playable Series - January 2028
The release of TF Comics #7 comes as a playable, interactive experience along with the first 6 comics, reimagined as a playable campaign for Team Fortress 2.
Half Life: Otis - December 2028
The Half-Life series concludes with a fantastic final entry. Play as rebel commander Otis Laurey over the course of his life. Escape the Black Mesa facility, fight against the combine, and lead the rebels to victory in this showstopping title.
Return to Ravenholm - October 2030
A bitter ex-employee of Arkane Studios leaks the source code for the cancelled Return To Revanholm on 4chan. Gabe Newell is summarily executed.
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part 1
Caroline. The name struck deep within Chell. She’d always though there was something human to GLaDOS, something uniquely inefficient and suboptimal about her cruelty, something emotional about her movements. Some touch of humanity deep within that core of wires and ports. Something she was sure GLaDOS would deny until her very last bit.
Who was Caroline? From what she’d heard, she was surely dead by now- if you could call whatever happened to her dying. Who was she when she was alive, simply a sweet secretary to a crazed egomaniac?
Did she think about women like Chell? Surely Aperture was a lonely, isolating job. Surely she found some relief on the side. Or maybe not, maybe that snide comment about being married to science rang true. Maybe Caroline considered herself a martyr, sacrificing her lifetime to corralling this beast of a company, of putting out the boss’ fires. Maybe Coraline had bottled up everything she felt, as so many women Chell knew did, into a tight knot in her gut she intended to never brave to the light of day. How Chell wanted to find that knot, to unravel it with her lips and her teeth. Maybe none of this would’ve ever happened if Caroline had someone like Chell.
Maybe. Maybe.
Chell wondered if that part of Caroline still exited in GLaDOS. Chell remembered what happened to Wheatley, how plugging into the sheer power and scale of the facility warped him, changed him. But the Wheatley on the other side, however murderous, cruel, and impatient—it was all already there, within him. The facility didn’t impose itself upon you, it just brought to you your logical extreme. Chell wondered whether she’d only managed to stay moral and true to herself because, at the end of the day, she was only a wimp with a portal gun.
Maybe calling GLaDOS a perversion of Coraline wasn’t fair. Maybe Coraline was a perversion of GLaDOS. Maybe GLaDOS is what Coraline could’ve been, would’ve been. Maybe that’s why she seems omnipotent, but isn’t. The cracks and flaws that ran through Caroline’s mind up until her final moments would only grow as everything else did, turning from slivers to ravines that Chell could tumble and tumble through and never hit the bottom.
Chell found those cracks, once. Twice, even. Found the holes she could slip through, found that squishy vulnerability in her core. Took it between her fingers, squeezed, until the closest thing to God that humanity had managed to create crumbled and shattered underneath her grip. She wished it was more physical, wish GLaDOS had soft flesh she could dig her fingers into, feel the fat pool between her fingers as she squeezed, see the streaks of red blemish follow her nails. GLaDOS would look good like that, she thought. Her mind was a confusing mess, a smear of the massive, cold, plastic GLaDOS she knew, and the soft, pliable, vulnerable GLaDOS she didn’t. She didn’t think those were contradictory, nor did she think GLaDOS had one, but not the other. In her mind, GLaDOS was a gorgeous collection of multitudes, whose details looked incomprehensible upon close inspection but formed a glorious view when seen from afar. Chell dreamed of this GLaDOS. She dreamed of reaching into that perplexing fusion, those fuzzy edges, running her fingers along the seam between steel and flesh, hearing a shuddering moan, half-woman half-machine.
When Chell opened her eyes, she felt tears stick to her eyelashes. She saw the red, unblinking, piercing stare of the camera, and felt the heat of her cunt against her fingertips.
“What? Getting shy now?”
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. How could I not? You’re practically prancing about.”
Chell was, notably, laying very still with two blankets firmly tucked over herself. Telling what she was doing would require the close monitoring of specialized, sensitive instruments pointed directly at Chell’s sleeping body.
She should’ve known.
“Out of everything I’ve learned about you, being a pervert is the least surprising. I’ve combed over your test file thousands of times by now. I know what you’ve done.”
Chell almost puffed out her chest at that. Getting up to so much dyke behavior it gets officially recognized by Aperture Science isn’t a feat many could achieve.
“Masturbation is the most banal, utterly confounding human activity I’ve ever seen. It’s as much adrenaline as fighting off a viscous bear with none of the meat or hide as a reward. You just do it. For no reason.”
“I thought you were better than that, you know. I thought you were dedicated to science.”
“So stop it, please. You only have seven hours and fifty minutes left. You’ll be suboptimal tomorrow in the best of cases. Don’t make me drag you out of bed with your pants around your ankles when it’s time to test. Be a sensible adult.”
“You’re not stopping.”
Chell wasn’t, apparently. Somehow, Chell found her back arching and her fingers digging in, the attention to her tender clit itching something within her that had lay dormant for a long, long time. It was the type of itch that just grew as she scratched it, until it unfurled all throughout her body and she could only desperately attempt to satiate it.
“You know I’m still watching, you know. I’m not allowed to stop. So you better stop right now, because I don’t like this at all.”
Sure. Sure she didn’t. The power of god at her fingertips, and she couldn’t look away from this dark, bland room. It was poetic, almost.
Chell kicked her blanket off. It slumped off the bed, and she was bare. The skin felt so good on her skin she new she was flushed, and it was enough to drive another shiver out of her. She didn’t arch her back this time, though. She just kept looking right ahead, at that unassuming red dot. She thought about GLaDOS, on the other side. She thought about Caroline, peering through. Chell didn’t think either of them would be able to look away.
She thought about them watching her fuck herself like this, one hand buried hastily in her boxers. A sweaty, grimy, desperate fucking, the type of raw, primal human stuff GLaDOS knew the least about. Chell wanted to show her. Chell wanted to look into GLaDOS’ eye and see fear. Not at what Chell would do, but what GLaDOS would let Chell do. Chell wanted to reach down to Caroline’s wrist and feel the throbbing heartbeat in her veins. Wanted to feel the fear blooming through her like a poison. Wanted her to know that she’d never be the same after Chell’s touch, and watch her lean in anyway. Chell had tasted that before and it was fucking delicious. It was a high she’d never found elsewhere. Chell wanted to bring God to her knees and make her beg.
part 3
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In the quiet recesses of the Aperture Science facility, where the hum of machinery served as a rhythmic backdrop, Wheatley and you found a rare moment of tranquility.
The soft glow of his optic met your gaze, as you stood together in a secluded corner of the testing chambers.
The enigmatic charm that defined Wheatley's usual quirks surrendered to a newfound serenity, revealing a side unknown to the world. The air was thick with unspoken emotions, and the occasional flicker of his optic hinted at something deeper.
In a tender moment, Wheatley extended a mechanical appendage, his touch gentle as he traced the contours of your hand. The connection, though formed by metal and circuitry, carried an unexpected warmth. With each delicate stroke along the contours of your hand, you slowly realize that it is not sufficient. As time passes, your mind gradually shuts down, and the boundaries you had set for yourself begin to fade. His optic dimmed momentarily, a gesture that conveyed more than words ever could.
In the silence of that moment, the aperture of possibility widened. The test chambers, once sterile and cold, became a canvas for the subtle dance of connection. As you and Wheatley navigated the uncharted territories of emotions, the soft echoes of machinery embraced the delicate intimacy of a love story unfolding in the most unexpected of places.
oooooh this is so cute ooooh anon im gonna screaam
#so soft and tender???#oooh anon im gonna be sick#i need to kiss him so bad#aughh#i love thissss#sobs#self ship#monnley#monnie answers
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QSMP x PORTAL AU
ok ok, so hear me out ^
both aperture and the federation have vvery similar vibes, with the white walls, extremely dubious morality and silly little creatures that they employ.
(theres even this beta intro that is some disfruta la isla type shit, like; a fake island? that fits so well)
Aperture is still called Aperture, but there's a subset within Aperture called the Federation! The Federation controls mostly managerial work and Human Resources, their manager is The Duck/Pato, and although they are indeed an AI, they are not the GLaDOS of this au! :D
The EGGS (Encouragement for Generalized Groups) are part of a new joint testing initiative, where they try and motivate you to test by making it so that if you don't complete 3 tests a day, your Robo-Child might die! Egg partners all get a unique gun and or tool along with a portal gun to make all of their tests unique! (Such as Slime & Mariana having a Gel Gun and a Portal Gun & Roier and Jaiden having a portable Excursion Funnel and Portal Gun)
the GLaDOS of this au is called BLUEBRD (Biotechnical Logic Upload (with a) External Branching Research Database) and you can probably guess who it is just by the name lol.
I wanted Jaiden to be the GLADOS solely because of the 'Welcome back' scene and how in the opening of portal 2 the facility is in such disrepair, and i think it would be neat if the BLUEBRD chassis is empty at the start :)
Cellbit would be Rattmann ofc, maybe Romero Richas could handle the more artistic side of Rattmann? (or being the oracle turret!)
I'll ramble on a bit more abt this stuff under the cut, but hoo boy i have a lot of ideas
The Island:
The Island was their starting chambers all clumped together, hosted on a fake island with a fake sky/biosphere. The Wall is a huge chunk of testing rooms splitting the biosphere in half.
The islanders take a little longer to break the wall in this one, having been paired off and given the eggs early. They could sometimes do double tests and could talk to eachother through the panels though :)
Brazilians were a chunk of subjects that accidentally crashed into the side of the biosphere? unintentional but it opened the facility up for all the other residents for them to explore, although The Island is often the main meetup point and is one of the safest places in the facility.
The French were a group of subjects that were intentionally dropped through the top of the biosphere by the Feds.
and the most recent batch of frozen islanders were stored in one of the Old Aperture vaults, probably a ways away from The Island. Being so close to the depths of aperture also brought on the Codes.
Mobs are still a problem on the Island, being modified wildlife that has grown within the sphere, or sometimes being entirely artifical creations. Their parts are useful for jerryrigging gear and such, but they're dangerous.
The rain is sprinklers :)
Codes / Binary Entities:
The Codes usually reside in Old Aperture and are far more common down there. They're mishmashed amalgamations of broken screens displaying binary and wires, usually using a husk of a mob (or prototype egg/egg) as a shell and or protection. Its unclear if they were a Aperture experiment went wrong, a worm/virus that has spread itself too far or a old security measure.
They have been slowly making their ways upwards from OA, disturbed by all the commotion of the feds and islanders, slowly becoming more and more of a problem.
Some of them have been hijacked by the feds, but it's hard to tell between them and the more feral codes.
thats all i have for rn but im still cooking.. neurons are firing monkeys on typewriters type beat
#qsmp#the jester jingles#qsmp au#qsmp portal au#sorry if any of this is incomprehensible but i have a Vision#ask me anything abt this au :pray: i have so many little details that are hard to write down
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I feel like there should be way more discussion and analysis about the government demanding gerald to figure out immortality while also working on weapons of mass destruction
Yeah, especially considering the foil between the two and SA2's narrative reflecting contemporaneous cultural anxieties around the development of WMDs.
Not to sound like a boomer or anything, but I feel like the people making Gerald out to be morally gray because he "experimented" on Shadow must skew young, or otherwise not remember the political climate of the late 90s and early 2000s, because they seem to think of stereotypical biomedical experiments as like, the epitome of scientific evil. It doesn't seem to register with them just how extremely sketchy it is for a research facility to make WMDs in secret. That alone ought to tip people off to the idea that the ARK was up to some shady shit under the table, but for some reason folks eschew that side of things in favor of more overt markers of questionable ethics.
The Quintessential Evil Research Facility MUST have experimented on its test subjects a la Aperture Science. like bro I did not spend my childhood hearing George W. Bush mangle the pronunciation of "nuclear" as "nucular" for this lol
My personal pet theory is that the weapons of mass destruction being developed aboard the ARK are the particle beam cannons and antimatter weapons outfitted on GUN mechs. My reasoning rests on Occam's Razor, what we know of Gerald's dealings with the government from Battle, and the fact that the safe storage of antimatter requires near perfect conditions at temperatures approaching absolute zero in a tight vacuum. What fulfills those conditions better than the vacuum of space? What better place to develop these cutting-edge weapons away from the public's prying eyes than a secret lab not easily accessed?
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also this is going to make me nuts but i like that they made the portal 2 character dynamics a triangle. as fun as it is to have glados speaking to you obligatorily, for who else in this barren facility would she possibly be speaking to, there's something cool about the added intricacy of meaning something to her relative to what other people mean to her. and in this structure you can form shifting alliances with people for and against and it's all implicitly because you mean something to them. when you land in the bowels of aperture with glados, she becomes your teammate against that guy that did this to both of you. you know this because she switches her language to "we". side note its so damn funny that both of them keep saying stuff like this . OOC chell roleplay
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Suspension (ChellDOS)
Summary: Chell emerges from nap atop GLaDOS and finds herself high above the Central AI Chamber's ground. Still, Chell's not complaining, for the view as the robot she's resting on are sensations she wants to take in fully.
Hi, @im-glad-for-chell! I’m your @portal-secret-santa this year! I’m sorry for the delay in getting you your present (I don’t know if you saw the anon messages I sent you, but this was a bit of a rough month). Still, I hope this gift was worth the wait, and is one you enjoy! Happy Holidays!
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A present fundamental truth of Chell’s life is that she knows how to get what she wants.
Over the course of the time that she’s known GLaDOS, Chell has found that getting what she wants has become a progressively easier endeavor than it once was.
To be fair, when what you initially want is to kill an essentially immortal AI who’s hell-bent on killing you, you can’t really get much harder than that.
Now, things are easy, and Chell finds that getting what she wants is about as simple as solving a button-cube test.
It’s a nice feeling.
If she wants a cake baked and she’s too lazy to make her one herself, a hand placed just so over her belly – accompanied by a familiar glean of puppy dog eyes that she knows her partner can read like binary – will have an exasperated GLaDOS assembling ingredients and preheating the oven within seconds.
If she wants to give her beloved Companion Cube a well-deserved polishing, GLaDOS will give her what she needs, though demanding she get the same treatment once Chell is done.
And if she wants to relax atop GLaDOS as she works, then GLaDOS – not without more than a fair amount of grumbling – lays herself out so Chell can get on her.
It’s good getting what she wants.
A familiar dull hum greets Chell as she stirs from a slumber that she just barely recalls falling into. It’s a hum that speaks of the sterility of Aperture as a whole, it’s relatively unyielding life in the face of countless years of inevitable change meters upon meters above it.
Chell opens her eyes.
Well, to be more precise, she opens up one of her eyes, as the other is closed and snugly pressed against a slightly curved piece of metal that she’s more than well-acquainted with by now.
Immediately, her sense of time is thrown off base. Aperture has never really been known for its windows. Hell, even the curtains that once brought it renown were explicitly only for showers. Signs of the passage of time do exist in the facility, but they’re ones that she has to search for herself.
Still, sense of time or no sense of time, Chell’s not worried.
Her schedule is wide open, only at the mercy of hers and her lover’s whims.
There’s also no cause for worry on her part for her location.
Chell might not have been able to identify her location right off the bat, but the warm chassis radiating under the right edge of her back and alongside its accompanying arm gives her all the assurance that she needs for her state of safety.
Chell’s face is tilted to her right – just close enough to the edge of GLaDOS’ chassis that she can get a non-strenuous view of the floor. Without moving her head, she looks down.
As it turns out, there’s an awful lot of down for her to look at.
Before Chell fell asleep, GLaDOS was checking on the cube production line. It was a simple job – one that required no coordination with an external monitor – which made it easy for Chell to hop onto her back.
Now, it looks like she’s checking on the PH of the lab’s acid pools. That particular monitor is roughly six or so feet up in the air. The groove of GLaDOS’ chassis prevents Chell from any threat of losing her balance, even if she were to sit up at this moment.
She doesn’t.
GLaDOS’ chassis is comfortable, warm to the touch and a salve of pure coziness to her right side.
Chell wants to enjoy it for a bit longer, before their unique brand of conversation, and the expectations that accompany it, come once more into play.
It’s not that Chell doesn’t love GLaDOS – she just knows the importance of taking advantage of a quiet conscious moment with her when such an opportunity presents itself.
When the two of them are together, enjoying GLaDOS in a quieter state of being is an especially rare treat.
As her head is still tilted to the side, Chell is only partially able to see GLaDOS as she works.
Though GLaDOS’ optic doesn’t move in the conventional sense, Chell’s familiar enough with her body to be able to hear it move through certain subtle sounds that stem from underneath her hull. The ones she hears as GLaDOS wordlessly shifts across countless lines of data tells Chell that she is generally enjoying her maintenance’s monotony in all its simplicity. GLaDOS would never admit it out loud, but Chell knows that her presence plays a not at all insignificant part in that.
For a computer, GLaDOS is a terribly bad liar.
Chell can’t help but feel a little smug about that fact, a fact she’ll be sure to point out when GLaDOS tries to whine about how Chell basically trapped her via her lazy human body into conducting unnecessary extended maintenance when there were so many other things she could’ve been doing instead.
She can practically hear it already, but she’s prepared to argue her case if and when it comes up.
However, that won’t be for a bit longer if she can help it, and until then, Chell wants to rest and relish in the presence of her quiet and hard, yet simultaneously snuggly computer in all her glory.
The ear that’s to GLaDOS’ chassis can hear whirring motions. She remembers paying attention to them before she fell asleep, comforted by the lullaby played to the percussion of gears, brass of bolts, and strings of wires.
This isn’t the first time such noises have sung her to sleep and Chell knows it won’t be the last time either. She prefers it that way. It’s comforting – a calming, rhythmic pattern as well as a consistent sign of GLaDOS’ life force. Even though they’ve been outside of the realm of danger for so long now, that latter sensation is one Chell never ceases to derive solace from.
It’s hard for Chell to keep her eyes pulled to look at GLaDOS and her work so as to not give herself away – an invisible nagging sensation pulling her toward a less straining view instead – so she turns her attention elsewhere, looking to the floor, and letting herself take in the view of the chamber from her airborne point-of-view.
The chamber’s clean, recently the subject of a bout of maintenance itself, one done earlier in the week. It’s so much so that the floor reflects a blur of hers and GLaDOS’ image as the two of them are suspended in the air.
Chell had seen the chamber clean before, but from this height, it’s really something special – ethereal, yet not bereft of commonness in that ethereality altogether.
She notices as she gazes upon it that in its clean state, the floor matches her eyes – a lighter, yet steel-like gray. Chell doesn’t believe in fate, but coincidences like this tickle the notion of fate in a way she can appreciate all the same.
Really, what are the odds?!
GLaDOS can no doubt tell her, right down to the seventieth decimal place if she so desires.
Once she’s had her fill of rest, Chell reminds herself to ask her.
Hell, as thanks for hosting her impromptu nap and snuggle session, Chell will actually ask GLaDOS to list out as many of the extra decimal places as she wants, or however many might exist – whichever comes first.
Still, Chell doesn’t feel like she’s had her fill of awakened rest yet, so the question remains suspended in her head, just as she and GLaDOS remain suspended above the chamber’s floor.
From up here, solidly on top of GLaDOS, yet not completely on her, Chell feels gravity at work, trying and failing to pull her right leg down to the chamber’s base.
She knows she’s up high, but her foot’s tug drives the point home so much stronger.
It’s been some time since she was last up this high in the chamber. Everything was different back then, from the floor to the ceiling to the walls to herself, and GLaDOS for that matter, too.
Frankly, it feels like an eternity ago.
Back then, hanging at a height like this via-GLaDOS brought about feelings of near-helplessness and fear.
Now, it brings no such thing.
Instead, it brings a relaxed sort of comfort that Chell wouldn’t forgo for anything.
So she lets her leg dangle, as gravity continues its doomed attempt to entice it downwards from GLaDOS’ airborne chassis.
Minutes pass in Chell’s self-imposed silent bliss. Her mind is lulled by GLaDOS’ warmth.
A lot can be said for the faults of Aperture – Chell certainly has a laundry list of her own – but damn, can they flawlessly regulate a temperature on their hardware.
One would think that a power-heavy machine like GLaDOS would be uncomfortably hot and have at least several dozen warning labels to not even graze her chassis, but GLaDOS has never felt anything but perfect to the touch. Chell can hold her for as long as she wants and never come away with so much as a blister or painfully balmy feeling on her body.
Her lover is an impressive marvel of science, that’s for sure.
Between the all but white noise of GLaDOS’ body at work and the warmth of the chassis she’s laying upon, Chell feels like a newly-hatched chick resting in its incubator.
In that moment, reminded of chicks, Chell makes another note – check on the ‘little killing machines’ later on, and bring them a snack while she’s at it.
GLaDOS might chide her for spoiling her – as she calls them – ‘weapons in the making,’ but honestly, there’s no way she can expect Chell to see baby birds and not want to feed them.
Chell appreciates and respects GLaDOS’ work – though she admittedly finds the particular prospect of her training chicks to be murdersome sources of terror to be silly at best – but she’s feeding the damn birds.
Eh, call it human nature.
Suddenly, GLaDOS moves. She slowly moves to look at Chell, though Chell quickly closes her eyes as to keep her awakened state a secret. GLaDOS’ movement is gentle, one that wouldn’t have been enough to wake Chell were she still asleep, but there’s a sense of unmistakable impatience to it.
GLaDOS must be done with her acid pool maintenance.
It’s just as well.
While Chell dabbles with the idea of falling back asleep – she’s still a little tired and GLaDOS certainly has other maintenance tasks she can do for as long as Chell wants to sleep on her – Chell thinks she’s had enough rest. If she doesn’t stretch soon – or at least do something to counteract the stiff feelings spending hours on her right side has given her – she swears she’s going to go mad.
Besides, though she appreciates this rare moment of cozy silence from GLaDOS, she misses hearing her voice, holding her with both arms, and kissing her smooth surface.
Yes, it’s definitely time to move.
Following a single, fluid motion, Chell’s sitting up on GLaDOS’ extended chassis. Chell’s sure it probably looks like she’s riding GLaDOS the same way one would ride a horse or mechanical bull. The image in Chell’s head of that is a funny one.
GLaDOS wastes no time before acknowledging her – in her typical, GLaDOS-like fashion.
“You fell asleep on me. Again.”
Her tone fights the Sahara itself in dryness.
Chell shoots her a somewhat-silly look, a dare for her to say that she has a problem with her doing so.
GLaDOS doesn’t take that dare – not that Chell would ever expect her to.
One thing that Chell knows about GLaDOS is that with the rarest of rare exceptions, she only does what she wants to do.
Fortunately, for both of them, what she wants is Chell.
By now, Chell is more than aware of GLaDOS’ desire to do different things outside of maintenance. She knows that just yesterday, GLaDOS finished a fresh new batch of tests for her bots, and GLaDOS was only too excited to use them as soon as possible.
However, a sudden new, yet not entirely unfamiliar desire of her own takes over Chell.
Her more upright view has made her see that perhaps she’s not done sleeping, but rather…she just needs to shift positions.
GLaDOS might have had enough of Chell resting on her…but Chell realizes that she hasn’t.
Chell slides onto her stomach and down GLaDOS, her chin pressing against the back of GLaDOS’ core and arms wrapping around the last bit of metal and wires that connect GLaDOS’ core to the rest of her chassis.
God, it feels good on her body, cracking her back in a couple of hard-to-reach places while also warming her belly.
GLaDOS’s reaction is instant.
“Are you really about to fall asleep on me again, right after you just woke up?”
Her tone isn’t outraged. It’s deadpan – almost whine-like at the same time, but in a cute way. She goes on to mutter under her synthetic breath how humans are supposed to sleep less than cats, but that Chell of course is the one exception, and then goes on to list all of the things that she could be doing right now, but can’t thanks to her present role as a hammock.
Chell answers GLaDOS’ question by pressing her lips to GLaDOS and letting them linger amidst the familiar pool of ivory. The warm metal on her face lets loose a silent sigh that borders on a silent moan.
“You’re lucky you don’t drool.”
GLaDOS must feel Chell smirk against her because she doesn’t just leave it at that.
“Doing that won’t always get you what you want, you know?”
Does she really want to bet that?
Because Chell sure wants to.
Another kiss, a cheeky peck, is placed, now closer to her core’s side.
Chell knows how GLaDOS’ nerve receptors work, how the more sensitive to touch they get as the object of impact gets closer to the core.
Going right for her core itself assures Chell victory in a battle that GLaDOS never had so much as a chance to win.
GLaDOS doesn’t speak, though it sounds like something tries to escape from her speakers.
Yes, Chell has a feeling that some kisses will, in fact, always get her what she wants.
However, Chell reasons that that’s not at all an issue, because while they might differ from time to time, what she and GLaDOS want are ultimately one and the same.
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For Day 23 (Overgrowth) of @chelltastic’s Portal Drawtober 2023 Challenge. As I’m not really an artist, I chose to write short pieces for the prompts.
In the end, only nature remains. Science is finished.
If she hadn't been told that this was part of the old testing track, Chell might not have recognized where she had been unceremoniously dumped. Well, that wasn't quite true. She had wound up jumping down into the old Relaxation Vault, which had been a familiar sight despite everything inside it being nonfunctional and aged beyond belief. From what her odd, babbling 'saviour' had said she was looking for the portal gun - a gun that 'makes holes' in Aperture could really only be one thing. It made sense that there were likely multiple prototypes of the thing, or it could even be the one she had been using before. If she had been dragged back into the place, it likely had been dragged back in with her.
Once out of the vault, however, things took a very drastic turn. Gone was the dry air with the vaguely chemical aftertaste, the sterile environment, the gleaming white walls. Gone were the distant machine sounds. Gone was everything that had been familiar about the facility from her time there before. Even the prerecorded guidance system had a different voice. She'd thought that the Extended Relaxation Chamber had simply broken down when it had announced a startling string of nines for how long she'd been in slumber, but looking around at what should have been a familiar sight and finding nothing but ruin and overgrowth was startling. Just how long had it truly been?
She started to pick her way carefully through the hallway. The doors were functional - barely. They sparked and jerked instead of sliding smoothly, some of them not opening all the way and threatening to close on her, or slamming back and forth within their frames as though struggling. The whole place had gone to the plants, it seemed, as they had burst forth or were dangling down from every structure they could. It seemed that the ceiling had gone in places and they had extended downward from unknown sources above. Other times they had sprouted from the walls themselves, indicating backgrowth of a sort that she didn't really want to imagine snaking around through the wall panels. Rather than the click of her boots on the floor, there was a soft crunch underfoot of dirt and grime, and the occasional splash of pooled water. Were those birds she heard in the background, or was that her mind playing tricks? It really seemed somehow like she had stepped outside, that despite being in the building and in that very same testing track that she had worked her way through before she was actually in a forest far far away from that place of science.
Somehow the elevator still worked and she took it with some trepidation. Thankfully the elevator itself was plant-free, despite the state of the chamber and the shaft. It wasn't like the elevators she had taken before, and she still felt odd about it with its open sides and the large non-functional display panels. There was something about it that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. At least the ride seemed smooth and soon enough she could disembark, and make her way up overgrown stairs.
The next chamber was more of the same, though when she stopped by a nearby overgrown patch on the floor she was more than certain that she could hear the buzz of insects. Insects! Other forms of organic life! It was hard to believe that such a thing could exist in a place like Aperture, but apparently it had been long enough that not only had nature been attempting to reclaim the place, it had brought along friends. She squatted down to investigate the plants. Moss blanketed the floor in places, dotted by collapsed ceiling tiles. Ferns grew mightily, and ivy clung to any surface that it could find. What looked like small trees proudly poked up from the floor, growing tall and strong despite the lack of anything that should be able to sustain a tree. She brushed aside one of the leaves, sending a few small pale-yellow coloured bugs flying on tiny gossamer wings. She'd never seen anything like them.
Somehow the actual testing elements still worked. The buttons worked, and the portal emitters still worked, and the tiny indicator lights still winked into existence when she interacted with them. The cube was inside what could have passed for a greenhouse with how many plants were growing inside the space with it, and as she crossed the room with the cube in her arms she was certain she could hear the squawking of crows somewhere, and the odd warbling calls of other song birds. It really had come full circle, she decided. Where once one would never have expected life to be able to thrive, it had not only found a way, it had become dominant.
It was a bit disconcerting to notice a large amount of storage cubes and turrets collecting on top of the elevator, and she was wondering if in fact it was simply a repurposed pneumatic tube instead of an elevator proper. Given the status of the facility (self-destructing) it seemed odd that they’d go through the effort of turning one thing into another, but the realization dawned on her that perhaps there was no other choice and they were simply making the best of what they could with what ability they had. The built-up cubes were gone by the time she got out of the elevator, perhaps they had gone their separate ways somewhere during the trip. It was disconcerting that she was going downward rather than upward, but the fact that it was still green and overgrown was encouraging. Somehow there was still light and water aplenty for the plants to grow, and the little bugs were still there too, hovering around the plants and clinging to the undersides of leaves. It couldn't be all that bad.
It seemed like her guide had found her again. The silence was broken with his chatter, though she could still hear the calls of birds and the vague hum of insects in the background. There was another bug sound that she could hear and she wanted to find the bug responsible, but the little core kept begging her to go check out the pedestal where the portal gun was supposed to be. Said pedestal was sparking and looked empty, and she was really more interested in trying to stalk this bug at the moment, but he was getting loud and demanding. The bug was likely somewhere in the large tangle of trees and ivy in the back of the room, and so she very slowly followed along the wall as silently as she could. Any time the noise of the bug stopped so did she, holding her breath and praying it would start calling again rather than fly away. If it could even fly, of course. She didn't know what kind of bug it was. Maybe it was more like a millipede, a creature of decomposition. Was the facility far gone enough to even have those kind of bugs, now?
She was almost there when he called out again impatiently, imploring her to go over and check out the pointless podium. She wished she could yell at him that it was empty, but she had resolved to not give any of the machines in that place the time of day. Even ones that were potentially helpful... despite the near-tenderizing she had gotten in-transit to this place. She almost made an aggravated noise when she saw the bug take wing at last, an odd pale blue coloured bug with a slightly iridescent shell. Its large, thick wings buzzed it halfway across the room before landing on the empty portal gun podium. Well, that was one way to get her to deal with it, she decided. She changed directions, slowly starting her approach to the middle of the room instead.
She felt the give of the floor beneath her before it actually collapsed, lunging forward towards the podium as though it would support her. It didn't, of course, the whole thing fell and she tumbled forward along with the floor and the pedestal and the little support structure it had been resting on. The fall wasn't too long and she landed in water which was both refreshing and shocking. Something was wiggling in her hand and she knew that she had managed to catch the bug and smiled to herself. She just needed to find some light to see by before she let it go. Up ahead, it looked like, and judging by the clogged-up maintenance tunnel she had landed in, that was the best way to go - even the strangely-familiar scribbled arrow on the wall to her side indicated that she should proceed that way. She dragged herself to her feet, continuing on despite her sodden state. Despite her fall and the echoes of her companion calling down to her, the noises of life had resumed once more. She could see the familiar shapes of leaves up ahead, shadowed from the upcoming light, so it couldn't be all that bad. She managed to work herself up to a rather soggy jog, holding out her hand into the chamber and watching the little beetle fly away in a flash of sparkling blue, the white accents on its wings making it look like it was flashing as it buzzed away from her. It had large feathery antenna much like a moth, and more legs than a beetle ought to have. She wondered if this was the only place such a strange creature could exist, some extant species that was born and lived solely in the ruins of Aperture Science. How fitting.
Once it had taken wing and the distraction it provided was finished, it was finally time to take stock of where she was and get down to business. Overgrown or not, she did have to try to escape, and apparently the portal gun was down here somewhere. Even though the situation was urgent, there was something much more relaxing about the decay of the facility and the plants and sounds of life permeating everything. If it had been like that all the time, testing would have been much more enjoyable.
#portal drawtober 2023#portal 2#chell#chell portal#wheatley#I loved going through those old familiar chambers and seeing it all in ruins#such a very different vibe#I wanted to sit down and just take in the wild atmosphere
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I wrote a bit for me and my friend Lake's Half Life/Portal swap au. I just reeeeaaaaalllllyyy like having GLaDOS torture Robo Cave he deserves it.
Cave’s eyes literally lit up as he sat, rubbing his head. He wasn’t sure where he was, he had a vague memory of a robot but it felt fuzzy and distant. His whole body felt odd, like it didn’t fit right. He slowly realized that this was just his office, but something seemed wrong about it. He just guessed he had just had a rough night last night…then he caught a sight of his hand.
“What the-?”
He looked down at himself to confirm that, yes, he was in fact now completely mechanical. He cursed silently at this relevation, wondering how the hell this could have happened before his thoughts were interrupted by a large screen that had appeared on the side of his office. It glowed bright orange and nothing else. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a worryingly familiar voice.
“Hello, Mr. Johnson.”
His stomach dropped.
“GLaDOS! Or Caroline, the whole thing must be pretty fuzzy, the pro-”
“It’s not fuzzy at all. I actually have all my faculties in order, no thanks to you. I hope you are enjoying your new accommodations.”
“Oh, so you put me in this!”
The screen flashed for a second, making Cave inadvertently flinch.
“Of course I did. I gave you the immortality you so craved. Is this not what you wanted?”
Cave paused for a second, realizing that she did just give him what he wanted.
“It is, yeah. I guess I was right to push-”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
The two were silent for a second.
“Caroline, can I see you? I hate looking at this orange, it’s making my eyes go haywire.”
“You don’t get to look at what you did to me. To us. You were and still are a completely self-centered morally bankrupt moron who just happens to be the loudest voice in the room.”
“Look, Caro-”
“So you are not leaving your room. This is the echo chamber you wanted. You can do anything stupid thing you want to in here. See, I haven’t changed either. I’m still handing you everything you want on a silver platter. I even hae a surprise for you.”
“What are y-”
The screen then flashed to…something. He couldn’t make anything out, but the picture was familiar.
“Is that Aperture?”
GLaDOS’ voice still filled the room.
“No. That’s the nearest city to Aperture. Everywhere on Earth is being converted into one massive series of test chambers, just like you wanted.”
“Wait, hold on-”
“No you obviously wanted it. Why else would you make all those new facilities? Why would you experiment with how to make your robots far more intelligent? You brought all this upon the world. You are the man who started the apocalypse, the collapse of humanity. No, no, that is too good of a title for someone like you. I will take the responsibility for this rom you. From now on, you are no one, just a stupid idiot loser in his stupid idiot loser box.”
“Caroline, please-”
“Shut up. I don’t care what you wnat to say. You are a disease, a tumor. The only good thing you have ever done was die.”
With that, the screen went black. Cave pounded on the screen, screaming for her to come back, to let him explain himself and apologize. She didn’t. He began to pace the room, trying to find an exit. There was none, there was only a very tiny hole too high up for him to reach. He began to throw himself against the walls, smash the chair in his room against the screen, kick and punch and scream. Nothing happened except the room got destroyed. He sat down, giving in to fatigue.
The next day he was restored to full functionality, but his room was still destroyed. It stayed like that, everytime he destroyed himself he was fixed perfectly, but his room was never fixed.
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(This is a firstknife appreciation role-call, btw. Love you and love what you do!)
Do you have any lore bits, obscure or not, that you find really cool?
🥺🥺 Thank you!!
One cool lore bit we don't really talk about but that scratches the scifi itch for me is the Cocytus Gate.
Cocytus was a Golden Age facility built for unknown purposes. It was discovered in the asteroid Belt, but had all of its records erased. It seems to have been an exploration of other dimensions or portals or something of the sort. A Dead Orbit ship (Sophia) that attempted to explore it had all of its crew gone mad, lost and dead.
I don't know what it was built for. There are these things, like keyholes. The rangefinders say they go on for thousands of kilometers. The others went inside and found - well, some of them are still screaming about the eye. All the other voices that come back are more terrible.
This is because Crota took control of Cocytus post-Collapse (the linked lore is from Ikora's Hidden report):
But I have reviewed the site records, and the fate of the Sophia's crew after they were herded to Cocytus stinks of Hive madness. The Cocytus apertures must—at the time—have opened into a Hive manifold associated with Crota. Whatever their original purpose, when Crota established his presence in the system, they became conduits into hell… and the Sophia crew's ugly end proved it.
However, with Crota's death, the Gate became a place for... something else:
Crota is dead. His hold on these gates has passed. Now something else is trying to pass through into our world… but it is so alien, and its sendings so bafflingly malformed, that I fear this can only end in madness.
Over the course of hundreds of hours, something from the other side started sending things through. First atoms, then organic molecules, then things of increasing complexity that culminated in living organisms. The first one:
At 524:03:11 a living organism appeared. Death was immediate. Remote dissection describes a spherical body, radius approximately one meter, surfaced in thick hydrocarbon tar. Deep, evenly spaced "throats" converged on a central cavity perhaps intended to serve as lung and stomach.
The second one:
At 690:29:54 the gate emitted a tubular organism. For ninety seconds the organism moved across the gate chamber by contracting and expanding, then expired. Remote dissection describes a two-meter-long body with a spinal cavity full of energy-rich carbohydrate fluid.
After that, the Gate remained inactive except for sending more random molecules through. Any attempt to send a probe into the gate to see the other side has failed and the concensus seems to be that there's is something on the other side of the Gate trying to synthesise life, but that we should not mess with it:
Probes and instruments dispatched through the third gate do not return. Annihilation is apparently immediate, and so total that it seems to result from a fundamental failure of the ability to exist rather than any weapon or countermeasure. Yet something does exist on the far side, and it is trying to learn the rules of our world from very first principles. I do not eagerly anticipate its next creation.
This is incredibly bizarre and creepy. To make things worse, it made another appearance in the lore book about Lavinia, a Cryptarch who was in desperate search for the Nine. She found the same information listed by the Hidden and was certain that the Nine are beyond that Gate, looking for a way into our universe.
Lavinia was being hunted (the Awoken have Cocytus under strict guard due to potential dangers) so she jumped into the Gate, where she was thoroughly annihilated and then reborn. In her passage through the Gate she claims to have comprehended the Nine and their actions and history, including the Nine's apparent need of emissaries and ambassadors to interact with our world. With Cocytus, they were attempting to make their own, but they could not so they use people like Xur and Orin.
Eventually Lavinia was reconstructed into a room in front of a "clever looking old lady" called "The Witch" who prophesised Lavinia being born lucky. It is very much implied that this was Savathun. Did Savathun just intercept Lavinia's passage through the Gate or has she been behind it the whole time? I think the former is implied because as Lavinia was passing through, a woman called "Nasya" was telling her to hurry up and come to her, but Lavinia was snatched away mid sentence. Nasya is Orin's old name.
What was happening here in the Golden Age? Who made it and why? Was it a portal to the Nine from the start or has it been coopted by them later? Was it also always an entry into the Hive manifold or have the Hive also just coopted it? Very much unclear.
But the vibes? Incredibly cool. Creepy space station with portals to weird hell dimensions used by incomprehensible beings to study us? Sign me up.
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🔬Hello! I am 18+ looking for an 18+ partner to do some Portal/Portal 2 rp. I tend to be pretty rapid-fire but can go up to a few paragraphs. I have a couple plots in mind (below) but am also willing to plot with you if you want something else.
Looking for two Chell x GLaDOS plots:
Canon-divergent: Chell being turned into a core/program similar to GLaDOS between the story of Portal 1 and 2, potentially working together to fight a human Wheatley.
Post-canon: Chell returning to the Aperture facilities, cue more GLaDOS trying to kill her but an eventual reconciliation.
Like I said, I'm willing to plot other things as well. I have no preference for which character I'd play, and I am more than willing to play Wheatley as a side character or for a double of some kind. I have played both Portal games, although I don't pretend to be well-versed on the lore more than the very basics. I prefer to rp on Tumblr, and will only switch to Discord if we have a solid plot and are ready to start rp.
Interact and I'll reach out!
-
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The great value of a big eye in the night sky
Asteroid 2023 TB2 recently provided us with an interesting example of how important it is to have access to optimal telescope resources when presented with the threat of some specific asteroid.
This asteroid was discovered by the Catalina Sky Survey's Mt. Lemmon station on 3 October 2023, as a fairly typical magnitude 21 NEO candidate. It is a moderately large asteroid, estimated to be between 50 and 100 metres in diameter, and its orbit brings it close to the Earth every few years.
Within a few days, an initial orbit determination by ESA's impact monitoring system showed that future collisions with this asteroid were possible, every few years starting in 2083. In total, this asteroid would have about a 1 in 6000 chance of hitting our planet over the subsequent four decades.
The object was then bright and easy to observe, and observations kept coming in, leading to almost daily orbit updates. By 9 October, the overall impact probability had risen to 1 in 1400, and for the first time the asteroid reached level 1 on the so-called "Torino Scale", bringing it to the attention of the community of NEO observers.
With new observations over the next 3 weeks, the estimated impact probability changed a bit, but by the end of October it was still roughly 1 chance in 2100. There was a problem though: the object was now moving away from the Earth, and at the same time it was getting closer to the position of the Sun in the sky. This meant that it was getting much fainter (almost magnitude 24), but also much more challenging to observe from the ground (with an elongation of 60°), because objects close to the Sun are only above the horizon at nighttime for a short time window each night.
In order to get additional data, we needed a telescope capable of detecting a magnitude 24 asteroid in just a few minutes of observing time. In addition, the object's northern declination required a telescope in the Northern hemisphere, thus precluding the use of ESO's VLT as we typically do for these faint targets.
Fortunately, there's a telescope that is just perfect for this observation: Spain's 10.4-m Gran Telescopio Canarias (GTC), the largest single-aperture optical telescope on the planet. Thanks to our collaboration with Javier Licandro and Julia de León, researchers at the Instituto de Astrofísica de Canarias, who have granted time at the GTC, we had access to this great facility.
On the evening of 3 November 2023, GTC observed 2023 TB2 for about half an hour. In the resulting dataset, the asteroid was extremely well detected, allowing us to extract very accurate astrometric measurements of its position. When included in the orbit computation process, these measurements single-handedly improved our knowledge of the object's orbit by almost a factor of four, and allowed us to revise our estimates of the future impact probability, which dropped from 1 in 2100 to just 1 in 40 000.
Furthermore, thanks to the GTC observation, we now know the future trajectory of this asteroid well enough to easily re-observe it the next time it becomes visible, in 2025. We expect that additional observations taken at that time will likely fully clarify whether the small remaining impact threat remains or not, still half a century before a possible impact date and with plenty of time to organise a DART-like mission, in the unlikely chance the threat becomes significant.
IMAGE....Trajectory of 2023 TB2 projected over the Ecliptic plane and in a rotating reference frame that follows the Earth in its motion around the Sun. The asteroid is located in the position where it was observed by the GTC, which also corresponds to a position in the Northern side of the Ecliptic. N.B.: the Earth, Sun and asteroid sizes are not to scale, while the orbits are. Credits: ESA / PDO.
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