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ninjastormhawkkat · 8 months

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A Different Kind of Wordgirl AU

Becky is stronger than most humans, she doesn't have super strength. Becky is faster than most humans, she doesn't have super speed. Becky is more agile than most humans, she can't fly. Becky's five senses are better than a human's, it doesn't mean she has superpowers.

All her life, Becky Boxleitner knew she was different from a lot of people on earth. She was a hybrid alien child, born of a human father and alien mother from Lexicon. Yet at the same time, she was also different from the inhabitants of her mother's planet. The only thing Becky inherited from her mother was a majority of her looks plus her extraordinary vocabulary skills. Becky cannot fly, run super fast, nor lift extremely heavy objects like her mother could. The only Lexiconian Becky could surpass was her pet monkey Bob aka Captain Huggy Face. Becky never thought she would be hero material until she was an adult. She never thought she would be ready to be a hero like how her dad wrote about them in his book. Things changed when the local hero Amazo Guy vanished one day, and her dad, the best expert on heroes, became fused to a vicious lab mouse and became known as Dr. Two Brains. So this au is an idea where Becky is an alien hybrid but the only powers she has are her extreme vocabulary. She becomes Wordgirl still in this au but only after her dad becomes Dr. Two Brains and Amazo Guy disappears. There are major differences in this au from other ones.

-Becky's hero outfit is more tech savvy. She calls her tools her "Word Tech." She wears a clear yellow visor which masks her identity as well as detects heat signatures, allow her to look at data on the go, help her see things far away or analyze materials. She has a hidden earpiece in her helmet to allow her to communicate with the police, DA Botsford, City Hall, and Captain Huggy Face. Her yellow cape can act as an invisibility cloak, shield, light deflector to blind enemies. He gloves and boots allow her to walk on walls like spiderman. She can generate electricity within her gloves to stun. Her boots have attached rockets to help her fly. Becky has other gadgets on her belt which are interchangeable depending on her mission. She also has a special pouch attached to he utility belt as well. Gadgets she uses are grappling hooks, flashlight, laser pen, bow staff, tracking devices, bolo nets, etc. Huggy looks like his canon self with only minor changes such as a light blue visor, earpiece, and navy blue gloves and boots that can operate like Becky's, plus a parachute bag attached to his back at all times. Huggy also wears a special wrist watch shaped like a lightning bolt that can shoot small lasers, stun villains, and act as a shield. -Since Becky never had any of her other powers except vocabulary, Steven taught her science and technology. That is how Becky is able to create and use her "Word Tech" so effectively well. -Becky in this au is a rookie compared to her counterparts, she is using her dad's book plus other Lexiconian books to help her fight and be better prepared as a hero so she makes more mistakes than her counterparts. - Bob in this au teaches her how to fight and helps give her self confidence to believe in her self as a hero. During the Miss Power arc when Bob shows her the book "Super Advanced Secret Battle Moves of The Planet Lexicon" and tells her that the reason he didn't show her the book until now because he thought she was doing a great job so far without it, Becky becomes more emotionally touched and cries a bit before getting back on task. Becky can also understand Bob still in this au. -Violet and Scoops very early on are told by Becky about her hero identity. This is because Becky felt she needed someone she could talk to about her hero life and issues besides her dad. (She later found out the part about hero's keeping their identity a secret afterwards in her dad's book. Whoops!) Becky also wanted Scoops and Violet to help her on the side in finding out what happened to Amazo Guy after he disappeared right before her dad's accident. (Coincidence...maybe😈). -Dr. Two Brains knows that Becky is Wordgirl off bat without her telling him. He recognizes his daughter's work in the gadgets Wordgirl uses, plus the amazing vocabulary skills and lack of superpowers is a dead giveaway to Two Brains as well. Unlike other aus I have written, Two Brains in this one is strongly against the idea of his daughter being a hero. While Becky does have thicker skin, she is still prone to cuts, bruises, and other injuries. Mouse man nearly had a heart attack when she got a sprained ankle. They have argued about Becky's continuation of heroics and facing dangers, but Becky is adamant about doing this and points out to her dad that since there are no heroes around, someone has to stand up to fill the role who had hero and villain know how. Because she is still hurt in bothered this early about her dad's accident and transition to villainy, Becky makes a passive aggressive comment that she has to unfortunately take the role because the only adult hero expert in this city is now subjected to a life of cheesy crime due to the control of a parasitic lab mouse. Becky did apologize for her choice of words when she saw her dad's reaction, but Two Brains still feels hidden guilt of making his daughter face this path unprepared alone with only Bob. Dr. Two Brains reluctantly lets her continue, but is still in silent protest about it.

#wordgirl #wordgirl au #a different kind of wordgirl au #dr two brains #becky boxleitner au #angst #amazo guy #steven boxleitner #violet heaslip #todd scoops ming #bob/captain huggy face #half human/half alien Becky headcanon #word tech #squeaky

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kevinlaforest · 8 months

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HOUR // Peter Gabriel présente "New Blood Live in London 3D" à Montréal (12 septembre 2011)

The legendary Peter Gabriel was in Montreal this afternoon to present an advance screening of New Blood Live in London and hold a press conference.

The concert film, which was shot last March during two concerts at London’s HMV Hammersmith Apollo during which the former Genesis frontman was accompanied by a 46 piece orchestra, will be shown again in select Cineplex theaters (including Montreal’s Cinéma Banque Scotia and Cinéma StarCité) on October 12 and 17, before being released on DVD and Blu-ray on October 25.

The New Blood CD will be released on October 11.

PETER GABRIEL ON…

3D as a gadget: “It’s just a gadget in the same way that your eyes are just gadgets. But they connect to the brain and they allow you to process images, and you have two of them. So I think it’s a device, it’s a tool [that] allows you into this world which I think is closer to real life.”

The challenges of making a 3D movie: “Blue Leach, who directed it [and] did a fantastic job I think, he had most of the problems. A thing we tried that I think I would have loved to have a little more time with, I put on a camera rig myself, just a few shots that we used from that… I think if I’d had my own monitor and just a little more time, I would have learned how to use it better. But I thought it was quite interesting, and the other thing I liked is when the camera’s able to move through the musicians, cause obviously you don’t get to do that when you’re sitting in the audience. And again, had we known how that was gonna work, I think we would have tried to engineer more of that.”

Making music with a full orchestra: “This grew out of the covers project which is called Scratch My Back. It was a song exchange: you do one of my songs, I do one of yours, that was the original idea. We’ve only got half the number of songs back again, but… Then it was a question of how to arrange the songs and I thought at first about all hand-made instruments, I wanted to do something that was different and fresh for me. And then actually, as I began thinking about that, I thought, ‘If I use traditional instruments, it’s gonna be, you know, more range of expression and great players to draw from.’ And I’d never really done an orchestral project… We always try to make some rules to help the process cause I think if you really wanna castrate an artist, tell them they can do anything they want; they haven’t got a clue what to do. If you tell them, ‘You can’t do this, you definitely can’t do that, and you absolutely must’nt do this,’ then they start thinking creatively. And so I try to do that to myself. In this case, we said, ‘no guitars, no drum kit’ – we use classical percussion – and we’ll try and make some things really, really empty, sparse, and other sections so very full. So, with that in mind, we sat down with John [Metcalfe], this amazing arranger I’ve been working with on this, and we talked about our influences, things that might have reference to this project, for instance Bernard Herrmann, who did all the wonderful Hitchcock work, with a track like Intruder [...] So we wanted to be bold. I specifically avoided some of the more popular songs, we went for things that would be an interesting journey from start to finish. I think that some of the classical projects can sound like rock-lite, and we were trying to avoid that.”

How he can navigate various genres of music while not losing his fans: “I think the best policy is to follow your passion – Joseph Campbell used to say, ‘Follow your bliss’ – and then you try and find find a way to sell it afterwards! Because I think that way, if things don’t work out, you still had a great time and an interesting journey, so that’s sort of been the way I approached things. And I know with this project, some people who like Sledgehammer and Solsbury Hill don’t like the orchestra; some do. But then I’ve also come across people who really disliked everything I’ve ever done, but they like this! So I think you have a chance, if you do something different, you lose some and if you’re lucky, you win some.”

What he likes best about the film: “I see plenty of myself so I prefer so I prefer to watch the others! The thing that I got most excited with was an idea to take the drums sections of Rhythm of the Heat and I thought, maybe what we could do is try and take the parts of drums and put them on orchestral instruments, and that’s what I asked John to do. I think that’s my favorite moment in this and in the concert.”

His relationship with Montreal: “Well, it’s always been very kind to me, Montreal, so I appreciate that. And it seems it is a home from home.”

How he sees himself: “I think, um… A man who went for an interesting life.”

His greatest achievement: “There’s this dream [I had] to make an organization of former statesmen and women which is called The Elders (theelders.org). Sir Richard Branson and I were determined to get Mandela to found that, and he was at first reluctant, but then agreed. The fact that that’s in existence is amazing to me, so I think that’s probably well up there.”

REVIEW

Up until now, save for 2008′s U2 3D and maybe a few others, 3D concert films have been reserved to teen idols à la Miley Cyrus, Jonas Brothers, Justin Bieber and the Glee cast. Enter Peter Gabriel, who couldn’t be farther removed from that, especially the way we find him here, singing in front of a 46 piece orchestra conducted by Ben Foster and focusing in great part on lesser-known art rock numbers such as Intruder (off 1980′s Melt), San Jacinto and The Rhythm of the Heat (off 1982′s Security), Blood of Eden (off 1992′s Us), as well as Darkness and Signal to Noise (off 2002′s underrated album Up ).

Also included are a few tracks from Gabriel’s 2010 covers album Scratch My Back (Regina Spektor’s Après moi, Lou Reed’s The Power of the Heart, The Magnetic Fields’ The Book of Love) and some favorites from his own repertoire like Biko, Digging in the Dirt, Mercy Street and Red Rain, culminating with the timeless Solsbury Hill and, during the encore, the very moving one-two punch of In Your Eyes and Don’t Give Up.

Visually, Blue Leach’ film is not the most dynamic thing in the world, relying mostly on Peter Gabriel holding our attention with his powerful voice and presence, which he does. White-haired and dressed in black, often bathed in red light, the singer is surrounded by the orchestra, through which the camera swiftly moves. There are also some interesting mise en scène tricks, notably involving LED screens. The use of 3D is immersive enough, if not particularly impressive.

#peter gabriel

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theonethatslowlyfade · 1 year

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ENG entry2: "Doctor..." "Oh, no. Felicita..." Bly lifted the mask and replaced it with a single gesture now perfected over time, wiping the sweat from his cheeks with the torn sleeve of his jacket. His skin rubbed against the patched and hardened leather of the guards. His gaze flickered to the obelisk sinking into the sand, followed by the more precarious buildings of Amarna. The huge chasm that he started. "We can't handle it here. There's too much sand." Hubert was holding the girl naked in her arms, and Bly had the impression that with his enormous strength he wanted to keep the two halves together. A long gash of her ran from chest height to below her belly, she was losing blood profusely. The Doctor knew that she had fought hard, facing the threat of Akenathon almost in close combat; he had seen her, too, how she had been thrown away in wolf form, how she had been trampled under the foot. Besides, it was his fault that a boulder of hers had rained down on her. Or rather, it was the fault of that unfortunate Monocle who hadn't calculated the risks: whenever! But time passed without taking into account his worried looks. They were all at the end of their strength, more than him - his gadgets were light enough not to wear him out physically. "Okay. If these are the conditions..." Battered as he was, he tossed his long leather trench coat to the ground, creating a barely level surface. He had an unpleasant déjà vu from the early years of the Civil War, but he recovered after a moment, pushing it back into the depths of his blue eyes. The girl was dying. He had no time to waste. "Hubert, put it down. Grayson, Raven, light a fire and bring me some hot water." Attached to his belt, he carried a sort of rigid case for surgical instruments, stored like brushes covered with a cloth. He bent down to the ground and unhooked it, unrolled it as best as possible to ensure that nothing got irreparably dirty, and took some pliers. He lit the zippo attached to the kit and put the tools in place, leaving them on the flame with the tips well away from the ground. "Guys, give her a drink. Quickly. Me too." Seeing Felicita sprawled on the ground was disheartening him. Nonetheless he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, bit off a glove and vigorously gripped the proffered bottle, taking a mouthful and using a second to precariously wash one hand. The other glove flew off. His knees trembled in the sand as he reached into Felicita's ribcage, looking for organs to feel to check their condition. Gods, the moaning of the young girl in those disastrous conditions sent a cold shiver down his spine. He gripped the tongs with his other hand and flicked them in the air to cool as he stared quickly at the mixture of living, pulsing flesh and blood. "Heart looks healthy. Left lung is fine. Right lung is collapsed…punctured. I can feel the ribs, some are broken," he whispered more to himself than to the others. Another thought of the war tried to force its way into his brain, but he pushed it away with all the mental strength he could. He located the major blood vessels and closed them with the mechanical force of the forceps; he would then move on to suturing at a later date. He applied six, then seven tools. Finally they gave him some clean cloths to dab the red tide with, and some water which he sipped carefully. Far from out of danger, the Doctor could have no mercy on her and her pain. Inside he felt like dying, but he plucked up the courage and like ice water, he tried to slam his face into it. The more time passed, the more his analyzes became barren of feelings. In the end he managed to do a good job; he stitched her up and readied needles and the tube for a transfusion, hoping that he would save her by pulling her out of the Duaat entrance by her hair. Exhausted from the operation, he was finally able to cross his legs, clean himself vaguely and focus his attention on the desert. The cold had subsided, but the tightness had faded as the day wore on. Now it was the middle of the night and the chill was helping him get rid of the sense of impending danger, which he didn't know would still be hidden in the sands.

#rippers #rippers resurrected #william bly #ttrpg

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majestalecter · 2 years

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Being sad because of the extra voice actor content silco, and not really being a confident writer or editor I will just put it here or else it will drown my brain in feels

Being in the big bed in silcos room means being left alone, the night before was returning and healing the old wound that ended up being the reason silco went all sweet on you

Up late talking and pretty petting from him, Being together on and off due to being in and out of the country for jobs or just for security reasons. I never tire of his voice humming or just talking about independence and his power... lately it was a sprinkle of conversation of jinx and his pride in her strength and growth.

He always holds me knowing how much I worry for her, the little ball of blue hair has come a long way from being the skinny little bunny. Too skittish to conversate with me till one day when I was leaving on a journey I had given her the little tool kit for lock picking and small travel size tools. I still remember and hear her giggle ringing in my ear as she hugged me.

Laying still in the dark warm room, surrounded by the piltover style of interior decorations with the color scheme of the undercity shinning through the dingy window. The lingering smell of cigars is what keeps the withered body still and healing. Hearing the door open to see a taller and bluer jinx standing at the door.

"You're back!! I just heard from silco that you came back last night while I was passed out at my work station."

Smiling and lifting the covers to invite jinx to your arms, to share the warmth of the room.

She smiles and slides into my arms like she was the perfect size. Jinx has never been the best at keeping clean when her hyper-fixations keep her at the workshop but you can tell she got clean for you. Snuggling into her cold arms as they wrap around your shoulders. The minute of holding her and matching breathing had you almost drift off but you feel jinx shift to look up at you.

"Are you going to stay for a bit this time? I want to show you all the new gadgets and tell you all the pranks I did on selvika."

Smiling and thinking that your going to have to drink selvika under the table to make up for the chaos child's treatment....

"Yup I'm staying for a really long time, the trouble I made is something I'm going to have to keep my face out of the sun. Better here with my family than anywhere else."

The word family changes jinx's expression as she turns her face more into the bedding. The feeling of her voices and guilt are like a change in the air. Holding her tighter is the only thing you can do.

"Hmmmp you and silco are just so alike that I can't help but want to hold you two close."

Looking with watery eyes you can feel the curious mind of hers beat out the guilt and anxiety.

"You both are so cold to the touch and so strong that I don't think piltover or Zaun could get to you."

Jinx smiles and giggles maniacally

"As if they could"

Grabbing jinx in a smothering embrace gives you another boost of warmth between you two.

"You both are so soft when I can get you into my arms....you may be this tall, strong, smart girl that this environment has forged and silco is the shark that has to keep moving to survive but you both are still the shaking frames I've held to my heart for years. Cold. the sobbing little ball of hair and bones that silco brought back in the rain....and he will always be that man that dragged himself out of the depths of that water."

You pull back to see her big blue eyes, questions behind them and still wet...

"I'm going to try to keep you both warm being that I have a forgers fire burning in me...."

Jinx tilted her head

"I was raised as a forger and a welder...the piltover snobbs took our business and spirit but not our fire....I had wished to keep craftsman ship of mine in a family but I seem to already be the forger of Zaun."

Jinx finally sighs and sinks into your arms.

"I can be backed into a corner but knowing you and silco will always be here keeps my fight going."

Looking up seeing silco in the door frame but hiding to the side you smile and laugh whispering to jinx she rolls over and opens her arms for silco.

He must have heard alot cuz he turns over as he lays in jinx's arms...

His back to us both I pull the covers over all of us as I can't keep my eyes open anymore laying close to the two feels as if everything has stopped .

You are home and these two are going to ok

#fanfic #self incert #silco #netflixarcane #silcoarcane #jinx arcane #jinx

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altheadajoysoul · 2 years

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Ayo another one of my "throwback to my childhood" things, cause last night my brain said "Hey, do you remember your fav childhood shows when you were a kid?! :D"

And I rememebered a tickle scene from one of those kids shows,,, that just started it all,, y'know making smol me curious about tickling n stuff

Thing is I can't remember the title of the show ;-;

But I can vaugely remember what it was about. And looking back at it now as my age, im realizing now how insane the plot and characters are ajsjfhajghw-

So basically its like,, a group of robots I think, who are also superheroes. They get daily missions to help people n stuff. And each robot has their own ability-

There's this yellow mouse who can turn into a fkin racecar

A pink unicorn who can turn into like an airplane pegasus or smth

A green t-rex who can turn into a fkin forklift

And then there's this round blue guy who can just stretch out his limbs

And lastly this uh.. idk, Dragon? Lizard? Dinosaur? Something along those lines, but his tail can change into different tools and gadgets lmao

BUT THE THING I REMEMBER THE MOST FROM THAT SHOW WAS WHAT HAPPEND DURING THAT TK SCENE, AND LEMME TELL YA, IT WAS OBSCURE-

So they were all helping out a train go across one floating island to another one. But the bridge is broken. The blue ball dude stretches his limbs and acts as a bridge for the train

AND THINKING ABOUT THIS AT MY CURRENT AGE JUST MAKES ME GO "LMAO WTF???" NOW BECAUSE HOW THE HELL IS HE NOT HURT- *slapped*

Althea stfu its a kids show, there is no logic in kids shows and you cant show pain in kids shows-

YEAH BUT?????? H O W????

Anyway- yeah one the said train starts moving on top of the blue guy it somehow TICKLES HIM????

AND LIL BABY ME GOT SO FLUSTERED AT THAT SCENE, THAT I LEGIT RAN AWAY AND HID IN MY AUNTIE'S ROOM FOR A BIT UNTIL THE SCENE WAS OVER

Luckily my fam didn't find it suspicious or anything and just thought I was playing and running around lmao

BUT HONESTLY, SAME BABY ME, I'D BE FLUSTERED TOO AT A RANDOM TK SCENE ON TV

That being said, since I ran away, I had no idea what else happend during that tk scene but yeah, that's what I remembered

God I wish I knew the title ajfjsjhfsh im such a degenerate for not knowing the title of my own childhood cartoon 😔🤚 /j

Anyway, yeah that's it for this throwback to my childhood post-

#tickle #tickle scene #tickle community #idk what else to tag this honestly lmao

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remmushound · 3 years

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Lita's legacy, part 5!! @brightlotusmoon @scentedcandlecryptid

Mondo was heated with rage he had no idea how to express. Never before in his time as a human or a mutant had he felt any emotions near as intensely than he felt anger now. His skin felt hot, his stomach felt sick, and he felt like crying. But Lita was there still holding his hand and she was watching him intently, so he had to put on a smile while he got her to someplace safe and protected; as usual, it was on a rooftop.

“Lita, I need you to stay here while I go find a payphone or something.”

Lita frowned. “Why didn't you just use that other mutant's phone?”

Mondo blanked. Sure, he could say that he had been so mad that the thought hadn’t occurred to him, and he could admit his mistake and go back to ask to use an actual phone. Or he could find a payphone and pray to whatever higher beings there were for it to still work. He looked to the streets.

“He uh. Didn't have one. Stay here!”

Mondo gave Lita one last, comforting pat before jumping from the roof and landing with a painful crash in the dumpster below. “Ow.”

“Why didn't you use the ladder?” Lita called down, pointing to the fire escape.

“I have a technique!” Mondo grunted as he forced himself out of the dumpster and to his feet, risking a quick glance around both corners of the alley before falling to all fours and running across the street as fast as his starved body could carry him. He scrambled into the phone box, pulled a loose quarter from his pocket—he kept a bunch of change, just in case he could ever find anything worth buying— and pressed it into the slot. He hoped that was how it worked, like it did in the old movies he watched. He took Repo Mantis’ card from his pocket and, in quick glances between the card and the buttons, he dialed the number and held the phone up to his ear. He heard strange, beeping noises, and hoped that was a good thing.

“You are conversing with Donatello!” Came a confident, bold voice joined with the strange sound of clicking keys, “Are you friend, client, or evil brat come to ruin my day?”

“Suh dude! Uh.” Mondo Gecko cleared his throat and tried to sound professional. “Repo Mantis gave me this number.”

“I know a Repo Mantis.” Was the reply, and then a long pause.

“He… said you could help me?”

“Well, first, you can help me.” Donatello said, “What you need, kid? I got gadgets and gizmos aplenty and a brain that won’t let me sleep. Seriously. It’s been two days.”

Mondo stuttered. “Uh. That’s rough buddy. I… me and my friend tried to get a place in Repo Mantis’ junkyard.”

“Oo. Bad choice.” Donatello laughed, “Lot of crooks living in there, you know. That place is for the desperate and the destitute.”

“Um. I— guess I’m both.”

“Oh. Unfortunate.” He smacked his lips, “What can I do you for, mister desperate and destitute?”

“Repo wouldn’t let me and my friend stay in his junkyard because my friend, like, has this medical condition.”

“That doesn’t sound like Repo. He don’t discriminate by anything more than how much money you have in your pocket. What kind of condition does your friend have?”

“I’m uh… not like, entirely sure what it is, if I’m being completely honest.”

“Physical or mental?”

“Physical…”

“Any medicines she should be taking?”

“I— I don’t know…” Mondo hated not knowing the answers to the questions he was being asked, but what could he do? He had to answer honestly! He put in another quarter to give himself longer to talk.

“Mm. Current place of residence?”

“We… don’t really have one anymore.” Mondo admitted. “I told you— we were supposed to be going to Repo’s place.”

“Right, right. Name?”

“I am Mondo Tubular Gecko.” Mondo gave the sound of a strumming guitar out of habit before remembering what he was talking about. “And uh. My friend’s name is Lita.”

“No last name?”

“No.”

“Alright, Mondo Gecko.” Donatello cleared his throat, “Where are you currently?”

“Uh, lemme check!”

Mondo left the phone and ran out into the streets to check the nearby signs, then ran back and reported them to Donatello.

“Fan-freaking-tasking. You stay there with your friend, and I’ll be there in just a mo’ with a medic to give her a once-over and give the all-clear to our mantis friend. Don’t move.”

Mondo froze.

There was a pause before. “You can move away from the payphone, just don’t leave the area!”

“Oh, right on, right on. Wait. How’d you know I was on a payphone…?”

“I know and see everything. Tah tah!”

Mondo returned to the rooftop to wait with Lita. Only a few short minutes later, both of them were surrounded by three average-sized mutants and one giant, their muscles chiseled and defined by years of hard labor and faces that said they were in their early twenties, if that. Mondo Gecko tucked his tail between his legs and hugged it for support. He hadn’t been expecting so many to show up, but he couldn’t back out now.

“You the one who called?” Asked an unfamiliar voice from the brightest mutant in a blue bandana.

Mondo Gecko nodded slowly.

“Where uh. Where’s your friend?” The largest one gave what Mondo Gecko supposed was meant to be a comforting grin, but it came off as predatory and malicious.

“She’s right here. It’s okay Lita…” Mondo Gecko grabbed Lita by the arm and gently guided her out into the open.

“Aww.” The orange-spotted mutant cooed, “You’re so cute!”

Lita whined and pressed her carapace into the crook of Mondo Gecko’s arm for security. A purple-clad mutant split from the group and approached Lita, pulling goggles down over his eyes and scanning her with a red and blue light for a moment before he pulled the goggles up and his mouth fell open.

“Woah…” Just from the tone, Mondo immediately knew it was the one from the phone. He stood up, walking over to the blue-clad turtle and whispering something to him. Mondo strained to listen. “...major ectopia cordis, possible thoracic insufficiency. Pericardium is still intact. Also suffering from oculocutaneous albinism OCA1 and what appears to be second-degree burn scarring on her face and hands. Accompanied with her ectopia, it may allude to significant lung tissue damage.”

Lita looked down at the pink burns on her hands, and then back up as the purple and blue adorned turtles made their way over to her and Mondo with attempts at gentle, comforting smiles.

“Hey Lita…” The blue-dressed turtle kneeled and offered a hand to the albino turtle. “I’m Leonardo. Do you mind is I take a look at you…?”

Lita looked at Leonardo’s three fingered hands, then held out her own matching hands and looked down at them with a curious glint in her eyes. The new turtle was still smiling, his hand still outstretched. Lita accepted it and let herself be guided away from Mondo.

“I’m just gonna take a look at your heart and lungs, okay?” Leonardo asked, and when Lita nodded her consent, he took out a flashlight and shined it in the center of Lita’s chest, watching the beat of her heart with a soft curiosity. “Wow… okay, this might feel a little cold, but it’s going to help me hear your lungs, okay?”

Leonardo pulled out a device that Lita didn't recognize, letting her look it over for only a few seconds before bringing it to her chest to listen to her breathing. He kept the cold tool there for a moment before pulling away and walking back over to whisper to Donatello, who took quick notes of his brother's words. While they talked, Lita’s eyes couldn’t help but explore the sight of the other two mutant turtles that stood nearby. They were shoulder-to-shoulder with each other, staring at Lita and whispering softly in serious, curious voices. Lita felt unbelievably small compared to them.

“Lita.” Leonardo’s voice came again, “My brother here is going to take some measurements of his shell to see if he can’t get you fitted with something.”

Donatello stepped forward, standing unlike his kneeling brother, and addressed Lita like an equal. He pointed to the straps over his shoulder, “See this?” He turned around to show her his battle shell before turning back around to face her, “This is my battleshell— aka, my livelihood! Since there are no surgical options to help you with current technology, I am going to make you something just like this, except on your plastron instead of your carapace. It will cover your heart, so you aren’t just… hanging out there and give you additional protection against brunt force trauma.”

As Donatello continued to rant, he finally kneeled, but not to address her face to face; he started to measure the area of her plastron with careful, calculated measurements while metal arms coming from his battle shell scribbled down the notes he needed.

“I can design it to grow with you, but you will have to come back every two years to get a replacement fitting, so it doesn’t get too worn down and become structurally unsound.” He finished his measurements and stood back up, “We can arrange a meeting in two months to get you suited with your brand-new plastron. How’s that sound?”

“Good.” Lita squeaked softly.

“Do you guys have anywhere to go until then?” The biggest brother asked in the softest voice.

Mondo came back over and wrapped a thin, lanky arm around Lita and gave her a comforting squeeze. “Um… we can go back to the vent I guess.”

All four turtles immediately shook their head and voiced their disagreement.

“No.” The red brother insisted, “No— we ain’t letting you leave here until you have a safe, comfortable place to stay! Like our place!”

“Yeah!” The orange-spotted turtle chirped, “You guys can have my room!”

“And it would be better able to keep an eye on her condition.” Leonardo added, walking up behind the two of them and wrapping supportive arms around the two children. “Trust me, niño y niña! You’ll love it at our place!”

“Think dad’ll let them stay?” The orange turtle chirped.

“You kidding? Dad would never turn away a couple’a kids!” Leonardo declared, “You can stay with us until we get you decked out someplace nice! How’s that sound?”

Lita smiled softly. “It sounds amazing!”

~~~

Two hundred years passed since that day, but Lita remembered it so clearly. She was sure she would be able to find her way around the past city even without the aid of Donatello’s maps, but still he insisted on her having one. She didn't think it was important enough to argue— it was only a day trip. Just get the egg and get out. She didn't know why her friends were all acting so weird about it though; she had gone on tons of missions into the past with the time scepter, and this one would be no different.

When she arrived in the city, the first thing she did was take a long, deep breath of the clean city air. Clean, at least, compared to what she had grown used to. She couldn’t spend long enjoying it, though. Tokka needed to be brought back home. Though she was reluctant to admit it, Donatello’s map had indeed helped her just as he said it would. Squeezing herself into the sewer was harder than she would care to admit, but she made it work. Then she had to swim, which was of little concern seeing as she was built to be aquatic.

She emerged in a place that sparked an odd memory and made her heart give a strong pang. She knew this place— and she knew those two creatures staring back at her as they held her little Tokka.

“Holy shell…”

#this connects to ‘Are you my dad’#thanks 4 reading!

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the-headbop-wraith · 3 years

Text

3 _ 43 _ Rekindling

As ever when all was well and right the garage was a cacophony of sounds, from hydraulics humming off the rotary lifts and power drills, to the squeal of impact wrenches. Each car port had one vehicle tended to, with a technician toiling away with the task of repairing or renovating an assigned vehicle. Outside, the carport had more automobiles parked up with numbers slipped onto dashboards.

On the work floor, Uncle Lance was lending an extra pair of arms to the diagnostic work of a utility van, a lot more teched out than his usual forte of labor. However, a tech savvy guy was left to the task of breezing through the more specialized work of the Bluetooth incorporated hardware. This was not the issue it was brought in for, but double-checking the software was procedural. The undercarriage of the vehicle needed a total overhaul and realignment, a time-consuming task.

Familiar barking rang through the garage.

“Gimmie a moment,” he grunted, to the operator in the passenger seat. He moved back from the open driver side of the van and cast his view across the open floor of the garage. There he was, a black and white streak trotting around supply carts, head held high like he carried an important purpose. In tow was Vivi, momentarily preoccupied by the phone in her hand, and some sort of satchel was draped over her shoulder.

“A bit early, are yu?” he posed. Lance took the end of the rag pinned to his pro-wrestler belt and rubbed some of the grim off his fingers.

“Work rooms locked,” Vivi replied. “Is he in today?”

“Course.” Lance nodded toward the direction of his office. “Shouldn’t be too long, ‘e’s meetin’ with a ‘‘client’’.” He did air quotes.

“Ooh,” Vivi groaned. They moved off the work field and relocated to the wall, beside where empty boxes from parts were stacked. “How do they keep finding him?”

Uncle Lance shrugged. “People post them pics to ‘em nosey sites, and they git the info where’n he works. Ye’know, that societal medium thing.”

“Social media?”

Mystery yipped, frowning behind his spectacles. This was very tiresome, tedious, and tumdum.

“Whatever ya call it. Nuisance, they are – dragging him off work.” Lance grumbled under his breath some phrase, which might’ve been a curse or a Curse. “Think they’re them first to come by, offerin’ this biggest, best deal. Arthur could git ah’lot done with them gadgets, but I understand his privacy is important.”

Vivi set the satchel down on one of the boxes, and looked the way to the doors to Uncle Lance’s office. “It’s not so much the anonymity he wants, but the builds and designs… they’re not, how do I say? General public applicable.”

“Applicable-micable,” Lance mumbled.

“Even the housing for the collar to shoulder hookup is specialized.” Vivi leaned over and rubbed Mystery’s head. “Eventually, he might try for a patent, but the models… even the college is thirsting over the incorporation. Anyway, it’s his business.”

Lance took a deep breath and sighed. “Yer right. Pisses me off still, need tu get a sign out there. Pisses me off, ‘ee’s too nice.”

Vivi leaned up rummaged through the satchel, revealing bags with containers. She selected a small box and handed it over. “You seem more, um… gruff than usual. Everything okay?”

Lance popped the lid and examined the small treat within. “We’re backlogged fer parts, work is comin’ through, and I got fancy suits in mah office tryin’ be clever. An’ I gotta get through the client list, before thay start callin’ me.” When Arthur strolled over, he raised up the little food box. An unspoken gesture fortifying break.

“I can work some over time,” Arthur began. His arm was not attached. “An hour or something, just to get some of these vehicles prepped for the morning shift.” Lance whipped around to face him fully and squared up his shoulders.

“Arthur. When five o’clock rolls around, the doors close and the shift winds down.” He waved the food box like a school teacher threatening their student with the ruler, and probably a firm algebra lesson. “No one, and no one ever built a better car while exhausted.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “But—”

“I dun car with how enthused yu are, there’s a chasm in the ground to distinguish between work and recharge time. Your brains a battery, and batteries need recharge – or they get replaced. Aw’right?” Lance jabbed at Arthur’s chest, getting the point across the way Lance did when he was cross. “Down time is still werk, yu werk hard restin’. It’s important.”

Arthur droned out, “Yus, Uncle Lance.”

Vivi swooped in and threw an arm around Arthur’s shoulders. “And that’s why we’re gatherin’ at my place. Nothing but ‘no doing’ going on there. No cars, or parts, or pieces to tinker with.” Arthur nearly tumbled but Vivi kept him upright. “Complete bores-ville.”

A thin smile tugged at Arthur’s cheeks. “Whatever you say.”

Lance nodded, as if he won an argument – which he probably did. “Yu see to that.” He was about to move away, but leaned back toward the two. “Ah, and no work on the van, either.” Then, he took his leave.

Arthur stuttered and quivered as his Uncle left. “But… the tools need to be reconditioned, or they might turn against it!” Vivi pulled him by the collar, hauling him off. On the way, she grabbed the satchel off the boxes.

“You can still look at it. They did a fine job, you’ll never know it was crushed once they get the paint redone—”

A distant roar bellowed out from the owner’s office, “WHAT?!”

“Exaggeration!” Vivi hooted back. “C’mon Art, nourishment awaits!”

Arthur hadn’t gotten his feet squared off or organized, he skipped on his heel as she dragged him across the work room. “Whoa, hold up! Vi! Mercy! Mercy!”

The Mystery Skulls van sat at the back of Kingsman Mechanics, the location used primarily by delivery and staff parking. In the lead paced Mystery, with Vivi and the screaming Arthur trailing. Once Arthur spied the vehicle with its refurbished side, he magically regained his balance and began leading Vivi by her sweater. He had stars in his eyes, for once.

“Oh wow, you can hardly tell it was crushed.” Arthur’s phone chimed, and when he stopped dragging the blue girl to fish the device from his vest pocket to check the screen. The message read:

“WHAT?!??!?!?!?!?!?”

Arthur coughed and texted back.

Beside the van, Vivi raised the hand holding the packages. “I dunno, it might be more seamless when we get the new paint done.” She posed beside the side, arms flung high. “I can’t wait to see the design.”

Arthur cringed down, with a grin. He slipped the phone back into its pocket. “Yeah, can’t wait to show off the new colors. Hmm.” He looked aside.

Off and away from the two, Mystery was sniffing around the parking lot. Once he gave the clear, he barked and rejoined his colleagues.

“And look, we got windows in the back now.” Vivi escorted Arthur to the aforementioned updates, showing the windows. “Surprise!”

Arthur gaped. “Oh, awesome. Now we can witness the angry mob chasing us out of town.”

Vivi waved a finger. “Don’t forget, the creepy monsters we can’t deal with. Won’t that be fun?”

“Ooh-dles.” The back doors swept open, and Arthur retreated back five steps.

Lewis leaned out. “You guys are really loud.”

Arthur shuffled over to the doors and examined the fitted panel. “One way?”

“And reinforced,” Vivi chimed. She handed off the satchel to Lewis. “Is it okay?”

Arthur shrugged. “I’m not opposed to it. Hey Lew.”

“Sup.”

Inside the van and along both walls laid long, flat boxes. The label read industrial shelving, and one was already opened. Metal bars and packing sheets littered the floor. On the end of one box, Lewis set out the food cartons from the package.

“I’m gunna miss the cuvees,” Arthur mentioned. Vivi was busy wiping his hand off with a rag and some ninety-nine, even though he didn’t work on the floor since his meeting.

“Yeah,” she hummed. “But we lost inventory, and stuff would get crammed in the back and forgotten. We never cleaned them.”

He toed one of the boxes with his sneaker. “I’ll modify these, so nothing goes flying off while you’re driving.” Lewis had relocated to the front seat and snorted, a little flame curled off his shoulder. “Someone did bring in catering today. You didn’t have to come abduct me.”

Vivi was already digging in, eating some chicken with sauce. “I wanted to show off the van. And we had to dump it off anyway, so you can load up supplies.” She pulled over the portable ice chest and popped the lid. “You gunna be able to do that on your own?”

There was no sound, but Arthur did catch the faint movement of Lewis as he glanced over the bench seat. “Yeah, I’ll be good. I didn’t feel like wearing it today.” He leaned over and snagged a drink from the cooler, the ice was melting and the canister damp. “I was replacing a servo and Gally, bless his hamster instincts, decided to gnaw through the circuit board.”

Vivi nearly choked. “He what?! Is he okay?” Mystery had curled up beside her, and raised his head, horrified. “He’s usually such a good helper.”

“Yeah. I must’ve fucked up the current or something. He hates that.”

Mystery rested his chin back onto his paws. Yeah, that sucks. Arthur made that mistake once before, and it turned Galahad into a round fluff.

While they ate, Vivi pulled out a notepad and wrote out what equipment they could use tonight. Their meetup wasn’t directly off the work lane, there would be movies and not much else going on but ignoring the movies – or complaining how unrealistic the movies were. For the most part, she wanted to discuss more work centered stuff, and perhaps do something about the cluttered closet that held predominately junk stuff. She insisted on using the words ‘stuff’ and ‘things’ without remorse.

There was likewise a separate list for movies they could stream or buy, or pirate.

“You can put more down,” Arthur mentioned, as he tried to work through the veggies someone insisted he have. “Uncle’ll help me. He’ll be working late tonight.”

“Lemme get this straight,” Lewis spoke, “he won’t let you work overtime, but he will.”

“It’s his business. He can do whatever he wants,” Arthur retorted. “And people had better not start seeing your spooky shadow ‘round. We get enough problems with jackasses showing up trying to get copycrap over my spec designs, I don’t want Spectral Seekers showin’ up, harassing Uncle Lance for a crummy show.”

Lewis leaned back over the bench seat. “I was bored, okay?”

“Bored?!” Arthur spat. “Was that today, or when—”

Mystery barked.

“Art! It’ll be fine,” Vivi proclaimed. “That was one time, we figured it out. After this, we’re goin’ straight back to my place to set up. Cool?”

Arthur made a face and deflated. He poked at his food and sipped his drink, but just a bit. He avoided raising his eyes or checking the front of the van. “Hmm. Yeah. We’ll just… the guys need to stay focused.”

Lewis hunched down in his seat. “I wasn’t tryin’ to be a ‘presence’, it’s hard being all cooped up.”

Arthur fixed his legs, readjusting them along with his hunched posture. “Sure. I get that.”

Once everyone got settled, or stewing, Vivi relaxed and resumed poking at a salad. That wasn’t too bad, but she wondered if it was always like this, or when this all started. They were talking again, the progress was slow but any amount she appreciated. Then again, maybe it wasn’t them. Maybe it was… her.

Before the break could be called a success, Vivi helped Arthur bring down one of the boxes packed with equipment and stowed it in the van. The spare bike was stashed in the van, and Lewis helped Vivi pull her eco-friendly, short distance transport out before he evaporated in a plume of flames. Likely, to attach himself to the flashlight stored in the side pocket of her backpack. She clicked on the light to confirm for Arthur, Lewis wasn’t hanging around.

“Let me know if you’re running late or anything comes up,” she stated, while Arthur double checked that the van was secure and latched tight.

“I’ll remember,” Arthur replied. They said farewells, and he returned to the garage of Kingsman Mechanics, with Mystery by his side.

The remainder of Arthur’s shift whirred by in a steady momentum, cranking out the vehicles on his roaster. It was a little before closing when he scrawled out the end time of his last assignment, on the task chalkboard on the work floor wall. He might actually make it to Vivi’s before she began with the texting. It’d be fun to wait outside and just hang out, until the first one chimed off.

Following one brief shower, Arthur got busy in his work room packing some fresh clothing for the next day. A separate bag sat reserved for parts, if he got around to the easier aspects to his arm and trying out the new cooling system – it was rather clunky and added weight – though, keeping the circuits at a controlled temperature kept rotors from overheating. A vent would be a nice benefit, but he needed a sealed compartment; a difficult feat in a multisegmented apparatus.

While Arthur went around the work room browsing for items he needed, Mystery was satisfied with dozing on the couch. It was only when Arthur hauled out the travel cage for Galahad, that spurred interest from Mystery. Arthur went to the hamster terrarium and located his caramel colored companion in his nest.

“Well get this stuff downstairs and get that flatcart,” Arthur explained.

Mystery was already nosing the door to the room open. He glanced back at Arthur, ear twitching. You got that okay?

“Lead the way.” He claimed the terrarium under his one arm and went with Mystery, to the ground floor.

The lights around the corner blazed bright, but the sounds from the work floor approached subdued. By now it was well past five, and shutters barred out noises from the open road across from the carport. He hardly saw anyone as he went for a flat cart parked by supplies. Mystery hopped onto the panel and rode it, while Arthur guided it back to the corridor. Loading up his gear was a piece of cake, and he was making good time. He’d park the flatbed cart by the employee access and bring the van around, and leave the cart in parts for whoever needed it next.

Only a last cluster of technicians remained in the garage, upon his departure. A few closing out some diagnostics or working with one of the trainees. Arthur exited through the back and locked the employee access. The last order of business was a quick text to Uncle, reminding him to lock the deadbolt.

Score! No messages from Vivi, yet.

It was almost a shock for Arthur when he arrived at the door to the apartment, and it opened to reveal Vivi. He shouldn’t really be surprised, why would someone not ‘living’ in her apartment answer the door. The fragrance of sugar and popcorn swept out.

“Holy cakes, I was about to start texting,” she cheered. “Did Uncle Lance kick you out?”

“Naw,” Arthur grinned. Mystery nudged the back of his legs. “Did you need any help setting up?” He and Vivi had to give space for Mystery, the dog shoved his way on through and went straight for the kitchen. “More important, do you ever feed him?”

Vivi sighed. She was already gathering up Arthur’s bags. “He had a whole chicken today.”

Arthur grabbed the terrarium and stood, the cage nestled under his arm. The Plexiglas box wasn’t heavy nor cumbersome, even so, he lingered at the threshold watching as Vivi retreated within. He glanced away and toed at the edge of the door jam. When he raised his gaze, Vivi was still there and quiet, a patient smile tugging the edge of her lips. She nodded toward the living room.

His feet shuffled across the entry. Noises came from within, the sort you’d expect to curl forth from a kitchen. “A whole chicken? Wow. Isn’t that something.” The sounds didn’t pause or hush a bit, as he scooted through the corridor.

Finally, he poked his head into the kitchen. “Are you doing spicey stuff?”

As expected, Lewis was at the stove with a pot and spatula looking guilty. “No?”

“I’m gunna start sneezing.”

Lewis shrugged. “It’ll clear up your allergies.”

“I don’t have allergies.”

Vivi relocated to the living area to deposit Arthur’s gear, and swung back. She was dressed casually, not her typical skirt or sweater, but her clothing was certainly on the poofy side, and clearly comfy. “Are you gonna start arguing again?”

Woof?

“We’re not arguing,” Lewis defended, swinging the spatula.

“This is a conversation,” Arthur affirmed. He went ahead and followed Vivi. He set Galahad’s terrarium under the end table in the corner of the room and popped the lid.

“Whatever you call it, I’m not refereeing.”

Lewis cackled. “Purge initiated.”

Off center of Vivi’s living area, the other end table was situated with a television on top, with wires hooked from it to the laptop sitting on the floor. In the corridor to the bedroom, the closet door was open and some of the boxes within left on the floor. The door was pulled back fully, permitting Arthur to view some of the items left out of containment, wedged on the shelves within. He shuddered.

A cacophony of popping erupted from within the kitchen, and Lewis swished around the large pot upon the burner. “Wanna get a movie going, and we can start looking through the stuff?” he proposed. “I did some homemade candy.”

“Mmm!” Vivi hummed. “These gummies are really ugly, but they’re tasty.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t use molds.” Lewis brought up a plate with wax paper, and little colorful globs topped. They were ugly as heck, Arthur noted. In a large bowl, Lewis poured out a whole kettle of corn from the pot he was using. The fluffy kernels were still glistening with melted sugar, steam shimmered across the lumpy peak.

Likewise on the counter, there sat two fire extinguishers. Arthur supposed they could pack one or both in the van. He wondered if she bought both, or if one came with the apartment.

“Arthur.” He shook his head and looked to Vivi. “Can you get a movie going? I gotta boot up my laptop.”

The couch was already dressed with blankets and extra pillows. It kind of reminded him of the old times, like nothing changed. He took his seat beside the chair arm, near where he put Galahad’s travel cage. He took the ball of fluff from his little nest and set him up on the back of the couch. Mystery thundered onto the couch and gave the hamster a close look over.

Opening credits ended for the introduction, and the movie began. Vivi planted herself beside Mystery, and Lewis was last to join with the bowl of popcorn and plate of gooies. Vivi took a handful of popcorn and started eating, along with one of those gooey treats from the plate now set on the back of the couch. Galahad was wheeling his way over, but Mystery lay his head in the way.

“I was thinking,” she said, and swallowed. Lewis left the popcorn in her care and revisited the kitchen. “We’ll be off on another assignment, and doing whatever cases we want on the way. But we have all this stuff, and it’s kind of starting to pile up.”

“Right,” Arthur muttered. “You could just dump it off on Duet.” He took the bowl she passed and tried the popcorn. It was good, salty and sweet. Lewis came back over and handed off some drinks to him and Vivi. “Uh, thanks.”

“Don’t you think I tried?” Vivi licked her fingers and went to typing on the laptop. “We get duplicates and we got fake crap, some of it is legit. Yeah Lew?”

He nodded. “Some of it gives me the heebie-jeebies. Don’t like that.”

“I’ve been checking some blogs and people,” Vivi went on, tucking the unopened bottle beside her hip. “I have harmless crud, that’d make for good props for research. That stuff can go to whoever, but Duet doesn’t want duplicates or reproductions.”

Arthur popped the cap to his beverage and took a sip. “I’ll leave that to you bunch then. I didn’t want much to do with it then, and not really much now.”

“That’s cool,” Vivi assured, with a smile. “You had some heavy run-ins with some of this crap, and I don’t blame you.” She plopped the laptop onto Arthur’s lap and got off the couch.

A timer went off, and Lewis made his way over to the kitchen. “Should be good to say farewell, though? Eh, Art?”

“Yeah.” He reached over to the popcorn bowl and grabbed a kernel, which he delivered to the hamster sitting on Mystery’s head. “No goo junk,” he commanded. “We don’t want to give Mystery a haircut, ‘cuz of some gummy stuff.” Mystery delivered and expression of utter petrification.

Then it hit Arthur, while Vivi was pulling out a plastic crate from within the closet. “Shit. I forgot the equipment.”

“Que s’eso?”

“The equipment.” Arthur took the plate of small, browned marshmallow meringues Lewis handed over. “Um, I was supposed to finalize it. Make sure I’ve got it all stabilized and tuned.” He and Lewis held a painfully long stare. “I wasn’t planning on testing that crap on you. Though, it’d certify if my handywork was thorough.”

“No.”

Vivi set the crate down on the floor and browsed through a few clay figures, among them bundled tissue paper and bubble wrap. “That’s fine, we’ll get to that another day.”

Arthur sucked in some air beside his teeth. “Meh. It was my thing to do, while you guys did yours. Fuck.” He sat a moment, debating if there was something else he could do if he wasn’t preoccupied with his go to task. There was the tinkering work on his arm, but he recalled some of the tools for that was left in the boxes he meant to pack. Aside from eating, which he now was not in the mood for, he didn’t have much else to do but watch bad movies.

“It’s not late, I can swing over and grab ‘em.”

“Or you could just let it go, and have a weekend to relax,” Vivi indicated. She leaned on the couch beside his legs. “I wasn’t serious with getting a head start on this, so that stuff can wait. Right?”

Lewis took the plate of gummies off the couch back, before Galahad could crawl into them. “Is this gunna be a bother for you all evening?”

Arthur sighed. “Yeah. Threw off my groove and everything.” He pouted. “It won’t take any time at all. Zoom over and back. It’s not a lot to gather up either, I don’t wanna put it off though.”

Vivi stood up. “Fine. I’m not like, your other boss or anything.” She tried the meringue thing. “Are these burnt?”

“They fucking are,” Lewis rasped.

“But they’re good anyway. I love burnt marshmallows.”

“Not helping.” Lewis pointed down at Arthur. “I’m going with.”

“Why?” both Arthur and Vivi exclaimed. Mystery woofed. Lewis looked from Vivi to Arthur.

“To… help? Is there… a reason why I shouldn’t?”

Vivi stuttered, “No – not… it’s up to Arthur.”

All up to him. Yay. Arthur set the laptop aside and got off the couch. “Sure, fine, it’s cool. Let’s go so we can get back.” He went to the entry way, twirling intermittently through his strides to call, “Keep an eye on Gally, huh? I want him eating normal hamster things.” Lewis nearly ran into him on their way down the corridor.

They were already headed out the door, when Vivi answered, “He’ll be good— Gally! Mystery! Not the gummies! No!”

By all appearances, the garage was vacant of life and sat with impenetrable silence, scarcely an aura of habitation. Vehicles huddled abandoned, the tools cold and still at long last following a brutal and arduous workday. Upon one soldering table stood a partially drained Styrofoam cup, a stray draft teased a greasy rag hung over the handlebar of a flat cart. Light flickered over the listless machinery, in the deepest reaches of the shop strange shadows carved burrows into deserted spaces. Aside from those minute scraps of animation, nothing stirred within Kingsman Mechanics. However, appearances are deceitful.

The small access doorway for shipments betrayed the established stillness. The knob twisted one way slowly, then the other gradually, a faint tick-tick twittered from the key chamber. Tick-tick… tick! The dead bolt swept sideways with genuine dedication, and the latch barked loose.

A brief reprieve followed, insisting that nothing was amiss and all was complacent, ordinary, and drab. Then, the faithful metal panel eased an inch, enough to allow a swollen lump to squeeze through. The squishy bulb observed the blanket of unremarkable matter. Off from the doorway, the blocky stacks of supplies and barren pallets, a tarp and some other obscure items, industrial shelving and other blocky shapes.

Through the doorway extended a small cylinder, and with a click the glaring slate of light glittered through the interior room, skewering the gloom and incriminating the present occupants. Hubcaps, a flatbed cart, opened boxes and packing materials strewn on the floor. Cold metal sleeping in the dark, oblivious boxes, and not a conscious soul in sight.

The vague shape eased through the slither of doorway and let the panel whisper shut at their back. Once within fully, they doused the light and let their eyes adjust to the swollen murk. With practiced grace they moved from delivery, and inched onto the work floor. Some dull glow did enter through the front windows of Kingsman Mechanics, illuminating the barest of outlines upon workstations and patient vehicles. They moved through the garage meticulously, pausing only to listen and grasp their environment through hearing, and their intuition. It hadn’t failed them yet.

Parts and easily mobile machinery were everywhere, some adding up into the thousands if packed carefully into the duffle bag slung over their arm. None of it had substantial value, only a temporary check to drop in the bucket. They followed the wall, clicking on the flashlight and capping the front to stifle the blast of light. There was no rush, if they couldn’t find it tonight, there was always next week. It would mean stake out and observe for changes, but a task amended without issue or too much delay. Better safe than sorry. Maybe the gear wasn’t here at all, and this was a waste of time. They wouldn’t know until a thorough search was launched. But all night lay ahead.

#cliffhanger #mystery skulls #mystery skulls animated #mystery skulls ghost #fanfiction #fanfic #msa fanfic #mystery skulls fanfic #msa fanfiction #mystery skulls fanfiction #mystery skulls arthur #mystery skulls lewis #mystery skulls vivi #mystery skulls mystery #mystery skulls lance

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fairie-gothmother · 4 years

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In The Shadow of Starlight, Part 2: Negotiating With Gods

Read Part 1: The Fall

Octavia took a deep breath outside the door, steadying herself in preparation for what Lilith asked her to do. How did she get into these situations? A week ago, she was in her room, sipping on a Moxx-tail and watching a Lord of Skags stream on the EchoNet. Today, she was interrogating the cult leading, pseudo-siren monstrosity known as the God King. Lieutenant Cramer wasn’t making things any easier. He was ready to go. She stumbled when Cramer clapped her on the back a bit too forcefully.

“Enough waiting around. Chin up, kid,” he said. Shouldering his gun and wasting no more time, Cramer kicked the door open. “Look alive, rat boy!”

Troy sat with his head resting on a small table at the center of the dimly lit holding cell. The walls and floor were made of concrete. The only entrances were two heavily reinforced steel doors. The door at the front of the room was the one they had entered. The other one was at the back beside a wide mirror that took up the majority of the wall.

Troy lifted his head. “Aw, that’s adorable. They employ senior citizens here. At ease, Pops. The Corporate Wars ended a while ago,” he said.

Octavia braced herself while giving Cramer a sideways glance.

“Wipe that pedophile smile off your face, boy! I have gray pubes older and wiser than you!” Cramer yelled, his face nearly turning purple.

Troy sneered at him, slowly rising from his chair and standing at his full height. He towered over Cramer in an intimidating display. The sporadically sparking remains of his damaged cybernetic arm dangled from his shoulder. The red light of his siren marks cast eerie highlights across the angled features of his face.

Octavia stayed close to the door, unsure how this would play out.

Cramer was unimpressed and got right down to business. The dude had nerves of steel. “Commander Lilith has ordered the removal of that smoking fire hazard you’ve been dragging behind your sorry ass. Ellie will be doing the honors. You are expected to behave yourself.”

“And if I don’t behave?” Troy challenged.

Ellie entered the room right on cue. “Then yer gonna make this a lot harder than it needs ta be.” Octavia had met Ellie a few times before. She was a squat, stout woman wearing overalls, every pocket filled with tools and gadgets. “Let’s just git through this. I don’t wanna be here any more than you do.”

Troy put his hand over his chest feigning a broken heart. “Hey, that hurts my feelings.”

Ellie ignored him and flipped her welding mask down over her face with a nod of her head, plasma cutter in hand. Troy got the message and sat down. Loose cybernetic parts dangled from the back of his neck. He winced when Ellie reattached them into the bleeding ports of his spinal implant. The mechanical arm barely hung onto his right side by chucks of charred metal and wires. Ellie removed the arm with little effort. When she reached to do the same with the shoulder brace, Troy grabbed her arm with his remaining flesh hand before she was able to touch it.

“Leave it,” Troy said through clenched teeth.

Ellie yanked her arm from his grip. “Suit yerself. I’m gonna fix the hinges on yer jaw modification. The higher-ups are comin’ and I don’t want ya droolin’ all over the place. Open up.”

Troy slurped and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. His modified jaw split open at the chin revealing rows of pointed fangs. He leaned closer to Ellie, flicking his long tongue. Dear god, Octavia thought. She forced herself to look away.

Ellie was in no mood to put up with any shit. “I could smother you under one tit, string bean! Now back off ‘fore I decide ta weld yer monster mouth shut.”

Unable to articulate, Troy growled in response but did as he was told. Ellie finished the touch ups in a matter of minutes. Without a word, she gathered her tools and stood. Troy snapped his jaws back in place and ran his fingers along the newly repaired hinges.

After finishing her job, Ellie walked over to stand by Octavia. She leaned close to Octavia’s ear and said, “That guy’s creepier than slow dancin’ with a hot corpse. Watch yerself.”

Octavia’s throat felt like sandpaper. She approached carrying her medical bag in what she hoped looked like a confident stride. Never in her worst nightmare did she think she’d meet the Calypso in person. He was thin and monstrously tall. His usual bulky, fur trimmed coat was missing which left his upper body completely exposed apart from the black collars around his neck. Lithe muscle slid beneath tanned, bruised skin. Radiant red siren marks coiled in looping patterns around his left arm and across the left side of his face. Icy blue eyes pierced through deep shadowed sockets with traces of black eye makeup smudged underneath.

“Like what you see?” Troy asked.

Octavia snapped out of her stare. Remembering her bedside manner, she extended her right hand to Troy. “Hello, Troy. My name is Octavia.” Troy raised an eyebrow at the gesture. Octavia quickly recoiled realizing that Troy didn’t have a right hand to shake with. “Right, sorry,” she said.

“Jesus. First the redneck mechanic, now an incompetent doctor.”

Octavia took offense to that, momentarily forgetting her nerves. “While I’m legally obligated to say I’m not technically a doctor, I am a highly qualified herbalist.” Octavia set her bag on the table. After putting on a pair of gloves, she pulled the stopper from a vial. “This is gonna sting.” She hesitated before touching him. Cautiously, she applied ointment to a laceration across Troy’s collarbone.

“Perfect. A witch doctor. Even better,” he said sarcastically. He hissed in pain. “The hell is that? It reeks.”

Octavia continued the application. “Scab root reduction. It’s a plant based antiseptic. It burns like hell and stinks just as bad, but it does the job.”

“Sorry I asked.”

Dried blood flaked from his skin as she applied more ointment to a lesion on his human shoulder. Uneasiness writhed in her stomach as her hands passed over the glowing red tattoos that adorned the limb. She expected them to feel warm to the touch, but they felt exactly like the rest of his skin.

The wounds were deep. She carefully cleaned and stitched them, working until she was satisfied that he was safe from infection. Much better, she thought, feeling pleased with herself. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for the condition of the metal brace on his right shoulder. It bent inward in such a way that it likely put an uncomfortable amount of pressure on whatever tissues were underneath.

“I’d like to see the extent of the damage under your…” Octavia slipped the tips of her fingers beneath the shoulder brace.

Troy lunged forward and shoved her into the wall in one fluid motion. Her head bounced off the concrete causing her vision to blur. His forearm held her across the chest, his body flush against her, pinning her against the wall. Cramer reacted immediately and aimed his gun at Troy from across the room.

“Don’t ever do that again.” Troy’s threat was delivered in a hot whisper inches above her face. His lips curled back in a snarl revealing gold capped fangs on his canine teeth. The stench of blood on him was sickening. She couldn’t move, completely at his mercy.

“Stand down!” Cramer yelled, still aiming a Jakob’s shotgun at the side of Troy’s head.

There was a tremble in Troy’s grip. Octavia noticed he was using his weight rather than his strength to hold her in place. He drew sharp breaths while his lungs struggled with the effort. Despite his incredible endurance, he was still weak.

“Rat boy, if you think for one moment that I won’t put a hole in that greasy head and watch your tiny brain drain out, you’ve got another thing coming! I said stand down!” Cramer repeated.

Troy’s enraged expression contorted into a playful smirk as he released Octavia and backed away. He raised two fingers to his brow in a mock salute to Cramer.

Octavia pressed a hand to her chest both to calm her pounding heart and to recover from just having the wind knocked out of her. Ellie rushed to her side to put a comforting arm around her. “You okay? He’s all bark ‘n no bite the way he’s in. He’s just tryin’ ta intimidate us.”

Octavia nodded. “It’s working.”

After collecting herself, Octavia took a seat across from Troy, who had reverted back to being aloof with his feet propped up on the table. He looked at her expectantly. This dramatic change in demeanor was unsettling. He was ticking time bomb begging for an excuse to explode.

Octavia cleared her throat. “I think it’s safe to assume that anyone else that found you in your condition today would’ve killed you on the spot.”

“Yeah, woulda been the smart thing to do. Which is why I can’t help but wonder why you chucklenuts didn’t,” Troy prompted.

“Lilith sees potential to make something of this circumstance, crazy as that sounds.” Octavia paused, wanting to choose her next words carefully. Her voice softened. “You’ve hurt a lot of people, Troy. This could be your shot at redemption.”

Troy snickered. “Redemption? Yeah, no thanks. The only thing I’m after now is revenge.”

“You’re not the least bit interested? People are calling you a monster.”

“So what? You get in a God’s way, you get smited… smitten… smote? Whatever. Point is, fear turns out to be the perfect motivator. So if keeping the masses motivated makes me a monster, let them think what they want.” Troy nonchalantly rested his hand behind his head.

“That doesn’t bother you? Even if you’re not leading the Children of the Vault anymore?”

“Like I said, let them think what they want.” After a moment, Troy sighed heavily. He glanced at the mirror that ran across the length of the back wall and rolled his eyes. “I get why you Crimson Traitors see me as a monster. Tyreen and I attacking your commander and all. Before you decide to torture me or whatever you plan to do, let me just point out that I spoke up and stopped Tyreen from dusting your precious Firehawk.”

Octavia hesitated. She never knew exactly what happened the day Tyreen stole Lilith’s powers. If that was true- “Why would you do that?”

Troy shrugged. “I have my reasons.”

~~~

Lilith & Maya were listening in on the conversation behind the two way mirror from the connected observation room. It was obvious to Lilith that her siren companion was uncomfortable after this sociopath had subtly told them he knew they were watching. Maya shifted her weight from side to side, arms crossed, nervously drumming her fingers.

“I really don’t like this, Lilith.”

“I’m not sure what to make of it either. If Troy is telling the truth about wanting revenge on Tyreen, he could help turn the tables in our favor. On the other hand, if this is all a trick and he’s still with the COV, it’d be bad news for all of us.”

Maya threw her hands up in frustration. “That’s exactly why we shouldn’t be taking any chances. There are a lot of people that we keep safe, including the ones inside that room. What would have happened to Octavia if Troy was at his full strength?” Of course she already knew what would’ve happened. “The Calypsos took your powers without a shred of mercy.”

Lilith interrupted, “That’s not entirely true. I’m standing here with you, aren’t I? Tyreen had me by the throat, drained my powers, and was ready to finish me off. But Troy stopped her. He said they were in a hurry to leave. I don’t know if I’d call that mercy, but it may not exactly be malice. I want to test where his loyalties lie. We convince him to cooperate, then we can decide how to use him.”

Maya huffed and resumed staring daggers through the two way mirror, her siren marks pulsing in reaction.

What a strange turn of events. Not in a million years did Lilith foresee a situation like this. One of the Calypso twins was in her custody seeking revenge on the other. It was too good to be true. She expected Troy to jump at the first chance to coordinate with the Raiders, but he refused. If he was trying to infiltrate, that would have been his way in. Did Tyreen really cast him out? What was the catch here? Lilith was determined to find out. Enough of this quiet observation. She opened the door, and entered the holding room.

Troy’s gaze instantly locked onto Lilith when she entered. His cold eyes followed her all the way up to the table at which he and Octavia sat. Though her composure didn’t falter, the contempt in his look made Lilith’s skin crawl.

Lilith put a hand on her hip. “Let’s assume what you’re telling us is true. You got denounced, and Tyreen made an example out of you. Surely some of your devoted followers would’ve wanted to help you out.”

“Some tried. There weren’t enough of them to cause a mutiny or anything.”

Octavia chimed in, “So there were others thrown out, too?”

“Maybe,” Troy said. “If there were, they must’ve been poofed somewhere else. I was alone when I got beamed out. It’s more likely that Tyreen ate them all.”

At last, Lilith asked the question everyone was dying to know the answer to. “Troy, why did Tyreen kick you out of the Children of the Vault?”

“It’s a family matter. Kinda personal. I’m sure you understand.”

“We just want to make sense of your situation,” Octavia pleaded.

Troy looked back and forth between the two women a few times, then scrunched up his face. “Are you actually going for the good cop-bad cop routine?”

Octavia suggested, “We could both try bad cop.”

Lilith could tell this wouldn’t go anywhere. “Alright, fine. Keep your secrets. As you already know, the Crimson Raiders are pursuing Tyreen and the COV. As much as I hate to admit it, we could use each other’s help. You know the ins and outs of their entire operation. We’d like to offer you the chance to coordinate with us.”

The expression on Troy’s face was hard to read. “You do know who I am, right? Calypso twin, God King, ex-Holy Father of the Children of the Vault? After everything I’ve done, why would you want to offer me anything?”

“Don’t take it the wrong way. You’re still at the top of the shit list,” said Lilith.

Octavia cut in. “Embarrassingly, we don’t have much on the COV. We’re outnumbered and our intel is outdated. What have you got to lose? You know the saying, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ You get your revenge, we stop Tyreen from leeching the entire galaxy. Win-win.”

Troy was silent, those cold eyes narrowing skeptically. Losing patience, Lilith added, “Or Cramer could keep you company while you rot in a max security prison cell.”

Cramer still stood at attention at the front of the room. When the Calypso looked at him, a vein throbbed in Cramer’s neck and he shouted, “What are you lookin’ at, cock snot?”

“Pff! Screw that. If it gets me out this hellhole, then I’m in,” Troy said. He looked to Octavia. “I guess your good cop strategy worked after all.”

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

Phew! I apologize if this one felt a little long winded. I crammed in lots of exposition, some backstory, and foreshadowing. Thanks for sticking with it. Part 3 will be much more exciting, I promise. In all its bloody, chaotic glory.

Feel free to ask questions or just let me know if you like the story. I am fueled by feedback.

#troy calypso #borderlands3 #redemption #fanfic #fanfiction #Troy #calypso #au #in the shadow of starlight

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spn-rewrites · 5 years

Text

01x16 (part 1)

Season One Episode Sixteen: Shadows

A/N: i know this part is a little short, but it’s here! thank you for all the support, it really does mean a lot to me! feel free to send feedback, as always, and any suggestions you may have for the story. i have a vauge idea of a main story line, but i’d love your input for smaller ones or whatever you may have! please REBLOG if you enjoyed and let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist. i also wanna say thank you to everyone letting me know when the tags aren’t working, i know it’s frustrating but bare with me while i figure it out!

SYNOPSIS: a strange case brings you to the Windy City wearing polyester jumpsuits

WORD COUNT: 1693

It isn’t that dressing up as alarm system employees was beneath you, it was that dressing up, in itself, was becoming a more embarrassing part of your job. It was mostly Sam’s idea and at least Dean was on your side, tugging at the cheap polyester clinging to his thighs. “I’ve gotta say, we were doing just fine without these stupid costumes,” he says. “I feel like a high school drama dork.” The costumes were a new development post-operation Get John Back, courtesy of Sam’s desire to keep everything at mute as possible. You and Dean clearly did not share the same mindset.

The suits, in fact, did come from a costume store, completed with a tool box that Dean is carrying as you walk up the streets of Chicago. Horns were blaring, people were yelling and the pollution was thick but you always did have a soft spot for the city.

They were calling it a Sleuth Killer, the thing that killed Meredith Rodgers in her apartment. It wasn’t unusual for murders in cities like these to go uninvestigated. Most of the time they chalked it up to gang violence or a freak accident and that was the end of it but the moment you read this article, the entire thing seemed too fishy to just be a coincidence.

“What was that play that you did?” Dean asks, snapping his fingers and pointing at Sam.

“You were in a play?” You perk up, looking at the younger brother with excitement. It’s always fun finding out new things about the boys, things that happened before you and before this.

Dean continues to snap his fingers as he thinks. His nose scrunching up in focus as you bounce on your own feet waiting for more informtion. “Our Town!” Dean cheers when his memory comes back to him. “Yeah,” he chuckles and shakes his head. “You were good. It was cute.”

“Look,” Sam says, trying to change the subject just as you lean into Dean to ask more questions about this play and maybe if he had video evidence of it hidden somewhere. “You wanna pull this off or not?”

“I’m just saying these outfits cost hard earned money,” Dean says.

You shrug your shoulders and look down at your outfit. It was an ugly shade of navy blue, the fabric made you look frumpy and not to mention the awful shoes. “I kind of like the costumes sometimes,” you say. But mostly when they involved dressing up in tights and a pretty skirt and not like a city laborer.

“Whose money?” Sam asks his brother, ignoring you.

“Ours! You think running credit card fraud is easy?”

+++

The landlord was more than willing to let you inside Meredith’s apartment, which was no longer blocked off by crime scene tape but still had the evidence stained on the white carpeting. It was the only evidence of a crime even happening. Everything else was still perfect, the way that Meredith wanted them. The only weird part, besides the blood, was the fact that Meredith had at least five different deadbolts installed on her door.

“You guys said you’re with the alarm company?” The landlord asks. She’s a short woman dressed in comfy clothes: a long cardigan and t-shirt underneath and her hair was in a bun on the back of her head. You all mumble, confirming her question. “No offense but your alarms are about as useful as boobs on a man.”

You try to stifle a laugh as Sam looks down at you smirking. “Well, that’s why we’re here,” Dean says. “To see what went wrong and to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” The landlord nods her head and glances around the room, shivers a little bit under the grotesque situation.

“Ma’am. You said you found the body?” You ask her. The question was meant to distract her from looking at all the blood on the floor, but it probably ended up making her think about it more. She twists the key around in her hands and nods. “Right after it happened?”

“No. A few days later. Meredith’s work called and she hadn’t showed up,” she says. Most of this information you already read in the news article that Sam was reading out loud in the car on your way but you ask her anyway while the boys check the surroundings as if they were looking for the alarm sensors. “I knocked on her door and that’s when I noticed the smell.”

“Any windows open? Any sign of break in?” Dean asks.You turn your head to look at him. He was holding a curtain open and the view from her window was spectacular. You start to miss it the moment the curtains falls closed.

“No. The windows were locked, the front door was bolted. Chain was on the door, we

had to cut it to get it open,” she explains like she was telling an adventure story. One with so many twists and turns it was hard to keep it straight. She has a dispassionte tone about her voice, though. Like maybe telling it as a story was easier than admitting it happened to her.

“And the alarm was still on?” Dean moves his finger around in a circle as he walks toward you and the landlord.

“Like I said, bang-up job your company is doing.” Dean just agrees softly and your eyes dance around the room. The blood splatters don’t seem like splatters to you. Their placement just too perfect and your eyes are so drawn to them, it’s hard to take them off.

“Any overturned furniture? Broken glass or signs of struggle?” At this point, Dean is just fishing for her to say yes to anything that deems this as normal but she just shook her head once again and Dean lets out a sigh. You start to walk the trail of blood, noting how the big ones seem to be always the same distance apart. Only being strung together but smaller spots.

“Everything was in perfect condition,” she maintains. “Except Meredith.” Your eyes snap back to her as her voice quiets down and darkness cover her eyes.

“What condition was she in?” You asked softly.

Without looking at you, she answers. “Meredith was all over. In pieces. The guy who killed her must have been a wack job. But I’ll tell you, if I didn’t know any better, I’d have said a wild animal did it.” You look up at Sam, whose standing by a window and then you look down at Dean, who’s crouched down by the desk chair looking at a pool of blood and you sigh.

“Ma’am, would you mind if we just took a minute? Give this place a once over?” Sam asks and the woman agrees, leaving the key on the coffee table and exiting the apartment as if her feet couldn’t carry her fast enough.

The tool box that Dean was carrying did come with the costumes, however the contents

inside were all your own. EMF readers, blacklights, temperature detectors. All the makings for a ghost hunting were inside. “So, the killer walks in and out of the apartment. No weapons, no prints, nothing,” Dean says.

“I’m telling you, when I read that article. I just knew that something was off,” you say. The moment you saw the heading, you ran over to Sam and showed him and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind either. The EMF reader going off in Dean’s hand seemed to be certain, too.

“I think I agree with you,” Dean mumbles.

“So, you talked to the cops?” Sam asks while he and Dean sweep the room with their gadgets. You, empty handed, walk the path of the blood. Your eyes trained to the ground, following the pattern over and over again trying to make sense of it.

“Oh, yeah. I spoke to Amy,” Dean says absently. “A charming, perky, officer of the law.”

“What did you find out?” You ask, oblivious to Dean’s statement. You both were to engrossed in your own tasks to put much force into your voice.

“She’s a Sagittarius and loves tequila,” Dean says.

“I’m a Sagittarius, too!” You perk up and glance over at him, but he doesn’t look at you and he doesn’t stop talking.

“I mean, whew. And oh, she’s got this little tattoo--”

“Dean!” Sam snaps, turning around to face him with his hands up. Sometimes, you wonder if Sam feels like a dad trying to rangle in his toddlers. Because, quit honestly, that’s sometimes how you feel when the boys fight.

“What?” Dean looks back at Sam and then shakes the thought of Amy out of his head. “Nothing that we don’t already know. Except for one thing they’re keeping out of the papers.” Sam looks back down at his reader and mumbles for Dean to keep going. “Meredith’s heart was missing,” he says.

“What?” You ask, your attention leaving the blood pattern. Sam seemed a little less phased than you, but his eyebrows raised in interest. “So what do you think did this?” You ask softly as the boys meet you in the middle of the apartment.

“Well the landlady said it looks like an animal attack. Maybe it was a werewolf?” Dean suggests. Your fingers dance in the pattern of the blood.

“The lunar cycle isn’t right. If it was a creature, it would have left some kind of trace,” Sam suggests. “It’s probably a spirit.” You nod your head to the side like you’d consider the thought but Dean saw the half-ass attempt at making Sam feel like he was on to something while your brain was already onto the next and the next after that.

“What’s up?” Dean asks you.

“Do we have duct tape?” The boys exchange a look but Dean checks the tool box and Sam digs through Meredith’s junk drawers for some kind of tape and when they find it, Dean hands the roll you to you and you begin connecting all the dots of blood together with it. The pattern was cohesive and with actual lines connecting the dots, you were able to see it clearly on the floor in front of you rather than a foggy image in your brain.

“What the hell is it?” Sam asks as you stand back and look at the final product.

“I have no idea.”

tagged: @matchamendes @stuckupstucky @sillydecoy @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @liztorr1212 @icanreadbookstoo @rachael-mae @jessewa26 @sundownridge @givemebooksorgivemedeath @alienemilyyyy @teenwaywardasgardian @mpmarypoppins @mellowlandrunaway2

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stolethekey · 5 years

Text

i wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me

read on ao3

Everything is quiet after the snap.

The air is full of bated breath, the people around him all staring at the dust particles floating through the air, hardly believing the sight in front of them.

Tony can feel his brain starting to shut down, but fortunately—or unfortunately—his thoughts are still moving well enough for him to register the faces in front of him.

Rhodey, cupping his face gently, his eyes brimming with love and affection. He doesn’t say anything, but Tony hears him loudly and clearly anyway.

Peter, and maybe it’s a good thing his tear ducts have stopped working, because as soon as the first broken “Mr. Stark?” comes out he feels what’s left of his heart rip in two.

“We won,” Peter says frantically, hands moving over Tony’s body. “We won, you did it—“

I know, he thinks dimly, the image in front of his eyes starting to swim. Why would I have done it if we weren’t going to win?

The blurry figure in front of him moves, stumbling slightly, and as the blue and gold registers in his mind his vision clears immediately.

Pepper. Oh, God, Pepper. Her hand finds his heart and his hand, seemingly of its own accord, finds hers.

“Hey, Pep,” he manages to mumble, the muscles in his jaw scrambling together for one last hurrah.

I worked so hard for my last words to be ‘I am Iron Man.’ That would’ve been so cool. But I suppose, for you—

She’s quiet, staring into his eyes, drinking them in for the last time, and it really, really, hits him all at once—

He’s leaving. Pepper, Morgan, Peter—he’s leaving. When that was the one thing he had sworn never to do.

“Tony,” Pepper says softly, and he clings onto her voice like it’s the scrap of hope he’d built in that cave, a million years ago. “Look at me.”

He does, and as his head turns a sense of terrible finality settles in his gut.

He is not going to move again.

The same realization has entered Pepper’s eyes, and God, he is the least lucky and most lucky person at the same time.

“We’re gonna be okay,” she whispers, and a curious sense of peace starts creeping into his mind.

Part of him knows it’s just his body shutting down, but there’s also a part of him that believes her, wholeheartedly.

She’s going to be okay.

Morgan, Peter, Rhodey, Happy, they’re all going to be okay.

The universe is going to be okay. Even if he’s not there to make sure it is.

That’s what he wanted. That was his goal.

Everything else was just icing on the cake, even if it came too early.

“You can rest, now,” she murmurs, her words incredibly steady for the tears welling up in her eyes. They don’t fall, and he knows she is keeping them at bay for his sake.

Staying strong, for him. She always has.

It takes everything he has, but he manages to move a finger, tracing her hand ever so lightly.

She makes him stronger, too. Always has.

I didn’t get a chance to tell you, I saw my dad—

I wish I could tell you—

I wish we had more time.

A million words swelling inside of him, clamoring to come out, only—he knows—to die with him.

It’s okay, he realizes. It’s okay. Because he can see in her eyes that she knows, that she understands. Of course she does.

He’s never gotten everything he’s wanted, anyway.

And this—this is close enough.

Everything he’s ever wanted—it’s here. It’s here.

He just won’t be.

His vision is starting to fade, but Pepper’s eyes, gentle and determined, are still holding his gaze, and he knows instinctively that they will be the last things he sees.

Merchant of death, maybe. But only of his own.

All the life he’s brought back? He’s pretty satisfied with that.

Pretty satisfied with the one he’s managed to live, too, even if it was a little too short, the ending a little too abrupt.

His vision is going black, but the blue of her eyes is still blazing, seemingly bypassing his retinas and just flaring to life directly in his brain. He loves that shade of blue. He’s going to treasure that shade of blue forever.

He wonders, vaguely, as the darkness drowns it out, if she can still pick up on the last thing he’s trying to tell her.

When I drift off, I will dream about you.

It’s always you.

There is a brilliant flash of his favorite blue, and then everything goes dark.

The garage feels emptier at night.

She isn’t in here too often—most days, the sheer amount of him everywhere is too much to bear—but sometimes, his presence is exactly what she needs.

Pepper walks along the tables lined up against the wall, her hand trailing lightly along the tools and gadgets still scattered across the tabletops, waiting to be used by someone who will never return.

She stops at the end of the table, next to a silent and still Dum-E, and gazes at the blue and gold helmet staring back at her.

Rescue, he’d said. Just in case.

She hasn’t touched it since she’d taken it off, weeks ago, her tears splattering on the table beneath it.

The metal is as cool and smooth as she remembers, and as she reaches under the helmet she wonders whether Tony would’ve hit Mark 100 if—well, if—

There is a gentle whirring as the helmet comes to life, and she takes a deep breath a familiar soft, blue light washes over her body.

“Hi, Tony.” Her voice is low and raspy, but she makes no effort to clear her throat. “I don’t know if you can hear this, or see this, but if anyone’s cracked the code on talking to dead people, it’s you. Sam keeps telling me to talk to you, anyway—he says it can help.”

“It’s funny, you know—I can’t ever forget that you’re gone, but sometimes it feels like my body does. I reach out for your hand, instinctively, sometimes, like my hand just expects yours to be there. “

She gives a slight laugh, the choked sound echoing throughout the garage, and then shakes her head. “I hope you found Nat, by the way. Tell her I say hi, and we all miss her. We’re never going to forget her, either.”

The helmet doesn’t respond, but she keeps going anyway.

“If you could see Morgan—God, she’s like—she is your legacy, living and walking and occasionally giving me snark. Peter said he’d tutor her if she ever needs it, but—well, you know, she has our brains. I don’t think she’s ever gonna need it. It’s nice of him to be there, though. It’s like she has an older brother.”

She sighs. “He’s a good kid. I wish you got more time with him.”

“I wish you got more time with all of us.”

The blue glow of the light seems a little softer.

“I know you didn’t want to leave us, but I meant what I said—we’re gonna be okay. We miss you, but we’re gonna be okay. Truly. I'm not upset about it, either—I think I always knew. I knew who I was working for. I know who I fell in love with. It wouldn’t be you if you hadn’t done it.”

“I mean, currently, it’s a little hard. We’re taking it day-by-day. Some days are better than others—you know how that goes. Everyone’s been so great—offering to help around the house, bringing us food—I have enough leftovers to last us for the rest of the year. We’ve really found quite a family the past fifteen years, haven’t we?”

She smiles sadly, her gaze lingering on the shadow of Dum-E in the corner.

“Oh, remember Harley? He came to your funeral. It was nice to meet him—God, he’s so grown up, now. But he still remembers you, still says you were the best thing to ever happen to him. That’s how the world is going to remember you.”

“I know you never got to live out the rest of your life, and that’s always going to eat at you, but—in a way, you kind of are. You live on inside each and every life you’ve touched. And we’re all better for it.”

She swipes her thumb across the mask, wiping away the tears sliding across the metal.

“Anyway, it’s getting late, and I should get to bed. I have kind of an early day tomorrow. Not that it matters—I can never really sleep, anymore. I guess I know how you felt all those years.”

She can almost see his face, an annoyingly superior smirk toying at the corners of his mouth, and she snorts. “Not that I regret being hard on you—I at least try to fall asleep.”

She slips her hand inside the helmet. “If, and when, I do, I promise I’ll dream about you.”

Her finger finds the switch, the metal cold and hard against her skin.

“It’s always you.”

She’s passing by Morgan’s door when she hears a small voice say, “Mom?”

Pepper cracks open the door with a small, gentle smile, eyes landing on the small figure in the middle of the bed. “You should be asleep, baby.”

Morgan looks up at her, eyes wide and innocent. “Sorry.”

Sometimes, when she looks into those eyes, she can hear a whisper of his voice.

“Oh, it’s okay. I can’t fall asleep either.” She sits next to the bed, tucking the blanket underneath her daughter’s chin. “Is it because you miss Daddy? He says he loves you. I can hear it, even now.”

“I know,” Morgan shrugs, her hair falling lightly across the pillowcase. “He loves you too. Even though Daddy said you never wear the things he buys you.”

Pepper chokes out a small laugh. “The things he bought me were never the important things, honey. The important things were the things he made, the things he was. I wear those every day. And so do you.”

“Even still?”

“Yeah,” she says softly. “His pride, his intelligence, his unwavering determination to help people—it all lives on. In everyone, but in us especially.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

She chuckles, brushing a gentle hand over her daughter’s forehead. “You will. I promise.”

Pepper stays in the room until Morgan’s eyes have closed, her chest rising and falling steadily, and then slips quietly through the door.

As she walks down the hallway, her feet tracing the path she’d danced down so many times, the love of her life in her arms, she knows—despite everything, she is still lucky.

Lucky to have had the time she did with the man she loves, and lucky that the universe has given her what she has.

The universe—millions of families, millions of lives, millions of stories. All here, because of one man.

All proof, everlasting, that Tony Stark had a heart.

#avengers: endgame #endgame #endgame spoilers #avengers: endgame spoilers #tony stark x pepper potts #fanfic #marvel #mcu #tony stark #iron man #angst #my fics #pepper potts #peter parker #james rhodes #mcu fic #pepperony

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septic-dr-schneep · 6 years

Note

How's the next chapter coming? :D

Heh.

JSE Fanfiction - In Time Of Need (Part 7: Discord #4)

Summary: Schneep is reluctantly pulled away from Jackieboy’s side to answer an urgent summons; it leads to him making an unexpected discovery.

Schneep had never been one to sleep on his side. Flopping face first intothe pillow and sleeping on his stomach had always been the fastest route to therest he so desperately needed. When he slept on his side, his glasses werealways bent crooked and the nerves in his arm never got enough blood because itwas trapped underneath him, but it was amazing how willingly he could acceptthe position after surviving on three hours of sleep every night for the lastweek.

Somehow he even managed to stay comfortable enough to dream; he hadeverything he could ask for, after all: a sturdy bed, a blanket and thecomforting presence of a friend—a friend who was safe, who could make sure that he was safe.

He dreamt of that safety, that warmth and love. His boys, his steelyDeidrick and his curious Liam, were little again, laughing and chasing eachother, ducking around his legs as they played. Maire’s dark, sleek hair slideasily through his hands as he guided her in to kiss him. In the corner of hiseye, Chase made a face at them just as his own wife was reaching for him.

The scene changed—there was music, chatter, dancing. Chase performed hisfirst flawless backflip, Jameson and Marvin showed off their hat tricks, and Schneepgot up the courage to sing just a few verses of “Footloose” with Jackie as hisbackup. Jack was smiling so widely that his cheeks were turning pink and Signewas in her pretty black dress, leaning on his arm. They were inside a vastbuilding with a soft and rosy glow, but somehow they were surrounded withfireflies.

Reality crashed back in with an uncomfortably loud buzz and a touch tohis shoulder. He jumped, untangling himself from Jackieboy’s arm and sitting upstraight with his glasses dangling precariously on one ear. Even with hisvision blurry he registered the small, pasty white hospital room, as well asthe startled nurse, Rena, who stood before him.

“I’m…sorry to disturb you, sir. I just wanted to check up on thepatient,” she explained hesitantly, to which he scowled but jerked a short nodof approval, adjusting his glasses as he slid deftly off the hospital bed.Jackie didn’t stir at the movement. No doubt he would be sleeping off themorphine for a while; at least he would get to keep his sweet dreams, Schneep mused ruefully as he moved out of Rena’sway, rifling through his coat pockets for the source of the vibration.

It hadn’t been his pager, he realized, brows furrowing in concern as he checkedit and didn’t find any messages. His cell had been placed on silent for thesurgery and he hadn’t turned it back on, so it couldn’t be that…

The insistent buzz sounded a second time, then a third, and Rena lookedup from Jackieboy’s IV, questioning, “Are you going to get that, Doctor?”

“I’m trying,” he assured her in a huff, half-turning away for someprivacy and then stopping up short as he was faced with Jackieboy’s personal effectson the tray nearby—among them, two phones. Dread trickled icily down Schneep’sspine as he saw which screen had brightened, but he had no opportunity to pickit up before the one in his pocket took its turn, rattling against his hip.Trying to keep his breathing even, he shifted his reach from his recreationalcell to the other phone.

“I’ve got aperfectly good phone,” Chase had protested, waving said device so its screenpleasantly reflected the light. “Got the best data package, got all of you onspeed-dial…what’s the deal with this new one? It’s only got dialing andtexting!”

“Yes, what isthis meant for, Jackie?” Schneep questioned, peering closely at the gadget Jackieboyhad shoved into his hands. It didn’t look like a normal smartphone; it was larger,sturdier, encased in black and bronze metal.

“Familyemergencies,” the hero muttered as he slapped one in Marvin’s outstretched palm.“Silver Shepherd helped me with ’em; he’s giving one to Roxanne too. It’s a CCC—CriticalCondition Communicator. It’s only meant for when you fear for your life, okay? Ifyou’ve got time to send a message with text, it’s got prompts for the kind ofemergency. If not, well, you don’t even have to speed-dial, Chase; thisis instant-dial. Hit any of these numbers and it contacts me, Marv, Jackand Signe. Speaking of you, Marv, I’ll need you to enchant them so they canhave unlimited range in the city.”

“Seriously?”Leaning his elbows on his knees, Marvin blinked up at the older Ego in utter bewilderment.“What’s brought all of this on?”

“It’s beencoming for a while,” Jackieboy assured him grimly. “Figured it’s about time Itry getting to all of you in time, instead of finding you in a puddle of yourown blood. Anti is Prompt #1, by the way.”

Schneep was already starting to sweat when he snatched up Jackie’s comm. andread the #3 – Marvin scrolling across it. When he pulled his own fromhis pocket and found #5 – Chase on the screen, he spun hurriedly on hisheel.

“Take care of my friend! You take care of him, you make sure he’s safe!”he commanded the nurse, barely taking a moment to watch her nod before speed-walkingdown the hallway. As soon as he got past the hospital’s front doors, he brokeinto a run, only spurred on by the essential bricks weighing down his pockets.

His comm. vibrated one more time while he was fidgeting, drumming hisfingers and yelling at the driver in the back of the taxi. He was afraid tolook and it turned out that gut feeling was entirely valid.

#8 – Jack.

“Faster, I’m begging you! Doyou know meaning of emergency?! Isthe definition in your brain?!” he cried desperately at the taxi driver yetagain, who exasperatedly shook his head and waited for the light to change. Bythe time Egos Incorporated came into view, Schneep was a mere lunge away fromtaking the steering wheel himself. Instead he opted for the door, charging upthe front path at a full run.

“Schneep, finally!” Chase came to meet him just inside the door, clampingonto his arm and steering him in the direction of the lab, frenzied wordspouring out of him faster than Schneep could latch onto them. He caught themost important parts—“Jack,” “some kind of fit,” “fighting his own body”, and—

“He what?” Schneep gasped.

Rubbing his arms as if to ward off the cold, Chase gulped. “He spoke. Screamed. All he said was ‘Out,’ and I—Ihave no idea what he meant. Doc, he opened his eyes! He was awake and then he wasn’tand I couldn’t do a thing! I had to call you!”

“You did right, you did right,” Schneep concurred with a fleeting wave toMarvin as he snatched up a handful of tools and bent over his creator, pryinghis eyes open. For a second or two, he was startled to see just how blue Jack’seyes were this close. Even glassy and red-rimmed, they were electric. Shakingit off, he shone his penlight into them, muttering, “The eyes respond like normal,but they’re inflamed…He has not been awaketo be inflamed! How did this happen to you, my friend? What were you dreamingof? You dream of the sun, look at it too close? You should know—”

“What is it?” Chase demanded anxiously at the doctor’s abrupt silence.

“Go to the ABOP, Chase,” Schneep ordered lowly. “Marvin, you open thatgateway for him.”

“What is it, Schneep?” Marvinrepeated Chase’s question even as he grit his teeth and began focusing a spell,the air before him bending into a portal to the Augmented Biogenic Ocular Plant,where Septic Sam resided.

“Jack’s right eye…has been burned. Go make sure our little Sam isalright.”

With a breathless half-sob, Chase nodded so vigorously that his hatalmost flew off his head, fairly diving into the portal as soon as he could seethe makings of the pocket dimension on the other side. Marvin’s hands shook ashe eased the portal closed behind the vlogger and then staggered back,clutching at his head and very narrowly catching himself against the counterbehind him.

Schneep looked up at the clatter, eyes narrowing in concern. “Marvin?”

“It’s nothing, it’s fine,” the magician assured him faintly, his knuckleswhitening where he gripped the counter’s edge. “Just…stretched myself a littlethin today…Haven’t had a chance to lie down since Chase dragged me here by thearm.”

“He gave me the same treatment.”

Silence settled in after these words as Schneep began looking over Jack’smonitors. It looked as if none of his vitals had changed, but Chase would neverbe so cruel to lie to them about this and the redness in his eyes was amystery. Momentarily Schneep berated himself for not being here to witness itand then he thought again. Perhaps it was better that he hadn’t; he neverwanted to see Jack in such pain as Chase had described.

After changing some of the solutions in Jack’s IV, he turned hisattention to Marvin, who was still slumped against the counter with his headdown, breathing shallowly. Schneep’s heart sank uncomfortably at the sight. He hadn’tbeen alone with Marvin for almost two weeks; in fact, he’d hardly been in thesame room with him for twice that long.

“You don’t look fine,” he ventured softly. Marvin’s shoulders shook witha silent laugh, little more than an outbreath, and the doctor shifted towardhim, fiddling with his hands. “Tell me.”

“…I was there, Schneep. I was inthere.”

“In where?”

“Jack’s head.” Agitated, Marvin tugged at the hem of his shirt. “I was inthere—or at least I was trying to be.I was looking for him, trying to find some…trace of him. He had his seizure while I was in there and I…thinkit might’ve saved my life.”

“Tell me everything.”

“Hkh—hh—hel—”

“D̶oņ’t…b͜o͟th̡er…t̵ryi͠ng,”Anti hissed again, his teeth glinting in eerie colors against the light of themedical monitors as he smiled, bearing his weight down against the struggle. “Noone̶'̢s li͢s͟t͝eni̴ng. Y̡our̨ f͡a͘it̛h̢ful͢ little͝ n͟urse ͜might hav͝e͡ no͠t̶ic̶e̕dbut, well…s͜óme pupp̛e͡ts ̡get t̢hei̡r ͠str͟i̸ńgs ͠c̕ut t͘oo s͟o̴o̢n̡!”

Jackieboy could only manage a sick, agonized gurgle in response, hisfingernails tearing frantically into Anti’s wrists to dislodge his grip fromhis throat.

“W͝e̢ ͝b̀o͢ţh k̢n̢ew y̴ou͘r ̵do̢ctor͜ ̕woul̢d sav͞e ͝y͘ou̕,” Antigrunted, bringing one knee down hard into the hero’s stitched side and drawinga strangled whine from him as he bucked and thrashed against it. “I̶ c̴oun̸t̨ed on i͝t̨, cos͠ ̨n̕o̵w͜ ͜w̧hat̢ I g̴èt to do—H́o͘ļd͞s̸̢ţ̧̕i̧ļ͢l͘!—is wa͠tch ͜him͝ g͟o ̨mad̴ to keep you a̸liv̨e͘. I o̢n͝ly goţ ̛t͟o see͝ ìt ͢oncè, w̶hen̴hé wa̕s ope̡r̡at͠i͞ng ̨on yóu͜r poor҉ ͠J͡a͢ck. He had Ja̢ck̷'͡s̸ bl̴ood̷ all̨ơv̛er his fr͡o͠n̢t, he was d͘rȩnc҉hedin it! Y͝ou ́şhoul̵d’ve ͟seen ̛how͞ hę c̵ried͡. You wou͢l͝d͘’vę̶thóug̕h͞t he wás̕ th̡e ͞on̛e dying…And he cri͝e̶s the ͘sa̵me̴ ̨w̡ay̶ ̡for you.”

He laughed then, leaning in close, blood from his throat dripping androlling down Jackie’s face alongside his sweat and tears from struggling. Inone swift motion he tore one of his hands away from the hero’s throat and clampedit over his mouth and nose.

“S̵ee, t̴h̀i͠s͠ ͟is ͡be͟tt͘e͢r͘ ̶th̸an ki̷ll͜i̢ng̴ ̀you,” he explainedgleefully, static gathering around him like the darkest clouds just before athunderstorm. “Be̶c̀au̵se Schnee̛p̷l̨estei͢n…and Cha̸se͜… and̨͡Ma̡rv͟ìn…s͠eeing you in̛ ͜th̀e same con͢d̸ìti̛o͟n a̵s̨ J̷ac̵k ͞is̵͜go̷i͟n̡g t͝o̡ ̕b̵e enou͘gh to̡ kiļl th̷em!So ̧g͠o on, h́ér͞ǫ…”

Jackieboy’s skin numbed where Anti was touching him and what little wasleft of his cries began to die out. His peripheral vision flickered with gray,tunneling, and the world around him faded to white noise. With the lastvestiges of consciousness, he flung an arm out toward his belongings, fingersscraping helplessly against the tray for the communicator that wasn’t there. Itwas far, far away, at the bottom of a lab coat pocket.

“Tòo̸ ͜ląte for that, p̛upp͘ét.” Anti’s smug words sounded just as distantas his last chance for help. “J̡u͢st ̛rel̨a͞x…I͡’m͜s͢ure ͟y̧ou’ll ̕be͞ ̀a̷ble t̀o sl̷e҉e͟p t͜hi̷s off.”

#youtube #jacksepticeye #fanfiction #youtube fanfiction #dr schneeplestein #marvin the magnificent #chase brody #jackieboy man #antisepticeye #septic eye sam #angst #hurt comfort #whump #answered ask #Anonymous

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