#the blue box files
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Who is Ace?
Dorothy Gale McShane, better known by her nickname "Ace", was a companion to the Seventh Doctor. At his side she faced the Doctor's greatest foes including the Cybermen, the Master, and the Daleks - who she famously beat up with a baseball bat!
Before she met the Doctor, she lived in Perivale, West London. A reckless teenager, she was extremely clever and had a passion for chemistry, but due to many traumatic experiences during her childhood and the resulting anger she felt towards the world around her, she didn't pass her exams.
When she was just 17, while experimenting with explosives in her bedroom, she accidentally created a Time Storm and transported to Iceworld, on the planet Svartos in the far future.
With no way to get back home, she worked there as a waitress in an ice cream parlour, where she would eventually meet the Doctor, who she often called Professor.
When current companion Mel Bush left the TARDIS at the end of the serial, the Doctor offered Ace the opportunity to join him. Ace, who had been fired after dumping a milkshake over a rude customer's head, jumped at the chance and never looked back.
The Seventh Doctor took his role as her teacher extremely seriously, often taking her places in order to face the demons of her past. He could be very cruel, yet Ace was fiercely loyal and very protective of her best friend. Despite his manipulative behaviour, he cared very deeply for her, and hoped that she could learn and grow to be the confident and empowered person he knew she could be with a little help.
Ace never stopped being a weapons expert despite the time she spent with the supposedly pacifist Doctor. He never had any qualms about asking Ace to use weapons on his behalf to blow up his enemies.
Ace's specialty was Nitro-9, a highly explosive bomb she created herself and stored in old silver deodorant cans in her rucksack until needed. It was lucky that Ace ignored the Doctor's warnings about carrying her homemade explosives - even when he expressly forbade it - as she often needed to use them to get out of a sticky situation or two.
Unfortunately, Ace's run was cut short as series 26 was the last of the classic era. It ended with a voice over from the Doctor as he and Ace walked back to the TARDIS for more adventures that sadly would never be broadcast. This was the last time she'd appear on screen until The Power of the Doctor, over 30 years later.
She's the only companion whose departure was never definitely established on the show. Whilst the Seventh Doctor is in the Television Movie, in which he regenerates into the Eighth Doctor, he no longer has a companion with him.
If the show had been renewed for another series, it would've seen Ace leave the Doctor's side to enrol in the academy on Gallifrey, eventually to become a Time Lord herself. But in some extended media of Ace's further adventures with the Doctor, she's killed by her own explosives or dies of old age, never having left her beloved friend.
However, with her appearance in The Power of the Doctor, we can be glad this isn't the case. Instead, whenever or however she left the Doctor, she would go on to set up A Charitable Earth (ACE, for short!) - an idea first mentioned in the Sarah Jane Adventures episode Death to the Doctor.
Extended media has Ms McShane as CEO of the global organisation that champions change in young people across the word. Despite this adult world of power suits and boardrooms, Ace still thinks often of the Doctor and the adventures of her youth.
And you can bet she's still fighting injustices, whether they're human or alien.
#doctor who#ace mcshane#the power of the doctor#sophie aldred#power of the doctor#dw#character profile#the blue box files
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I highly recommend listening to The Blue Box Files. These three charismatic women delve deeper into the most interesting conspiracies you've never heard of in this exciting indie podcast series.
They cover the mysteriously short-lived Adipose Industries, the disappearance of the Royal Hope Hospital, and many other strange events - with special guest interviews with eye-witnesses! And as you can likely guess from the title, they also cover the Blue Box phenomenon. It's my favorite mystery too! How about a spot on the show?
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stickfigure gijinkas...
(brief explanation stuff under the cut in case anyone’s interested ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
I imagine Victim (or, less cruelly, V) and Chosen are basically identical. Cho’s hair just looks like that because he cut it himself without a mirror. V’s hair and eyes were probably just like Cho’s when they were alive, but now it’s like... ghostly. Spooky wao
Dark’s hair is meant to be anime-levels of unrealistically spiky at the ends, just to keep with all the distortion effect theme he has going on, but his bangs & sidebangs are meant to look like spider fangs.
Other than that I have no other comments to make. They’re just hairstyles I like. I like Red’s in particular because it’s as wild as he is. He looks like he’s about to spawn either 50 ocelots or 50 ravagers. What a chad
(And yes the lil accents on the cheek for Red are borrowed from OMOCAT-style Headspace friends’ sprites. I Just Think They’re Neat)
#animator vs animation#animation vs minecraft#ava victim#ava tsc#ava tco#ava tdl#ava red#ava yellow#ava green#ava blue#avm purple#avm king orange#march does art#the box files
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Mannn I really wish they had done something with Ryan's youtube channel back in S11/12. I would have loved if he kept uploading videos during his travels on the TARDIS (like a video diary), from a corner or a little removed from the action (perhaps so he'd not give away his location/time period to anyone watching, perhaps because The Doctor doesn't want to be caught on camera because that can cause problems).
But since you don't get that many quiet moments travelling with 13 you'd always have stuff happening just out of shot, or out of focus in the back of shot. Graham and Yaz would sometimes be vaguely visible but you'd only ever hear bits of 13's voice.
Because then imagine using that premise to use those youtube videos for
a) little extra previews for new episodes/series (and you'd be able to freeze-frame and try to figure out where Ryan is or who the fam is running away from or whatever)
and
b) you could play with the idea that in-universe Ryan's videos start getting popular, particularly with alien conspiracy groups like in Love and Monsters, who gradually start to notice stuff in Ryan's videos aren't quite right: The logos on the boxes in the massive warehouse Ryan's blogging from don't correspond with any online retailer anyone knows. Or that Ryan seems to be filming from inside buildings he absolutely should not have access to. Or something falls in the background and the gravity somehow seems odd. Some people comment on his videos about this and Ryan tries to play it off as "Ah... one of my friends is really into VFX and likes to edit my videos". But then it really gets crazy after Spyfall part II when his face appears everywhere and Ryan just starts frantically deleting all the comments people leave on his videos. Though some time later he'd upload a video like "my friend is not doing okay and they're hiding something from us but i can't get them to talk, I think we need to stage an intervention" and you'd think it's about Ryan's friend from home but it's just 13 being 13.
and
c) building on this, when Jack catches up with the Fam in Fugitive of the Judoon, it turns out he managed to track the location of the TARDIS down because he's subscribed to Ryan's youtube channel. (of course no one in the back of Ryan's video's has ever referred to the disembodied female voice as "Doctor" so Jack still doesn't realise which person is The Doctor)
and
d) In the run up to Doctor Who Redacted, Ryan's last video gets a comment from one of the Blue Box Files podcast girls asking for an interview and one week later his whole youtube channel disappears
#file under: “ever-growing pile of things i want to draw fanart of but most likely never will ;_;”#also i wish the fam could have met the blue box files/redacted girls#i wonder what could have been if the bbc had let chibnall hire a social media manager after the one from moffat's era left#ryan sinclair#doctor who#gallifriendly.txt
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Honestly I adore that he chose Arson and More as title tracks because More is basically his first instance where he says he wants out of the box, to explore and go outside of the identity of Hope that was basically bestowed on him (‘zeus made me hope’ & bighit made him hope… he talked a lot about how it was chance that made him j-hope, which later became almost his entire identity musically), and Arson is a perfect continuation and adds to the concept. Arson is a very peculiar ending song because it feels like a teaser for things to come. It doesn’t have a sense of finality (=this is the end of the album) only promises more, what’s to come, it’s a declaration of who he is and how he wants to be. I joked a lot with friends that all the songs after the interlude are about being finally outside the box (with all the fears and thoughts that come with that) and the sentiment reminded me of the funny poem you see floating on tumblr The tiger / He destroyed the cage / Yes / YES / The tiger is out. Arson+MORE feels like Hobi making peace with his complexities while remaining j-hope. Idk I have MANY thoughts about this album and the way the songs are ordered —@hoseeok from the main :3
[re: this] lyde i'm OBSESSED with the theory of Music Box: Reflection being the signal for him exiting the box - we hear the winding at the start, the sound and the heavy breathing together feel so anticipatory. like, this is j-hope inside the box, waiting to burst out. it's imminent.
but where Arson feels like stepping out of the box, What If.../Safety Zone/Future almost feel like time freezing before the release - that reflection. he's so desperate to escape but so afraid of the unknown.
in What If... he talks about how the name j-hope has given him purpose, but like you mentioned, it was bestowed upon him. would he have been able to achieve everything without j-hope? as jung hoseok - is there some middle ground? and if j-hope is hope itself, where is hope for him? AGH "hold up/ can i do this?"
i could talk about Safety Zone ALL DAY (@cordiallyfuturedwight knows this) in that it feels like an extension of Blue Side. with blue side being that place of rest, comfort, nostalgia, safety.
he's asking where his safe zone can be found - is it "the blue that is far, far away?" - almost like he's lost that comfort of blue side, and is fighting between the safety of going back, and the fear and hope of what lies ahead. if he chooses to leave the box, is he also leaving blue side behind?
Future feels like an acceptance. of his identity, of walking into the unknown, outside the box. the repetition of who i was vs. who i am!! "it now feels most proper and most me" and almost in a continuation of What If... talking about how for so long he's been this source of hope and courage and faith but had left none for himself, then at the end "with courage and faith, i bet hope on (future)"
i love your interpretation of Arson and i agree completely, it's a perfect continuation of MORE but it feels so much like a beginning.
Jack In The Box as a whole is j-hope coming to terms with his identity, accepting all aspects of himself both as jung hoseok and j-hope, as well as facing his fears and aspirations as an artist. his desire for more, escaping the box, and the worries associated with that. and he did it all in twenty minutes.
#filed under:#me and the girlies (gn) experiencing symptoms of literal psychosis#I'LL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT THIS EVER#thanks so much for the ask my darling#i can only apologise for how long it took me to attempt to gather some thoughts#but i LOVED this and i LOVE hearing different interpretations of the songs and the album as a whole#it's just. so meticulously crafted from front to back#and it's so clearly just the beginning#forgive me. but i fear the best is yet to come#i have so many thoughts and so few coherent sentences left in me#many more on blue side x safety zone which i have to make a bloody playlist for#kayla mentioned distant blues referring to future safe zones too and i LOVED that#and ARSON!!!! yes YES the tiger is out INDEED#lyde is it too soon to say i love you#ask#hoseeok#MWAH#i'll shut up now before i delete this entire thing and start again (again)#jack in the box#💜💜💜#all lyric translations are from doolsetbangtan <3#and tumblr is being a bitch about me adding a read more so you're just going to have to struggle through it besties#does ANY OF THIS MAKE SENSE
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Cleo: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?
Shawna: I'm a knife.
Abby, from across the room: They're the little spoon.
#incorrect quotes#incorrect doctor who quotes#incorrect dw quotes#doctor who#doctor who redacted#cleo proctor#shawna thompson#abby mcphail#Abby x Shawna#Blue Box Files
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bi4bi clani #real
#ari opinion hour#rani hangs out with queer ppl (tyler and the blue box files gang) and she Cannot be the token straight because That was gita tbh
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I'm sorry Neil, although I love your writing and agree with your opinions on most subjects I have to disagree with you on the writers' strike. No-one should have a more privileged life as a result of being clever and creative. I worked from the age of 15 to the age of 65 in low-paid jobs, taking 1 year off to go to drama school and 3 years off to get a fine art degree. I worked in terrible but necessary jobs, labouring, stacking boxes, unloading trucks, running errands, filing, going to work on a bicycle at all hours of the day and night on shift work in all kinds of weather. Even when I was a student I was still working in part-time cleani8ng jobs and even during periods of unemployment I worked in volunteer jobs for charities and social services.
According to Mensa I have an IQ of 160 and according to Plymouth University I have a BA hons in Fine Art but I cannot accept the idea that writers and other creative people should avoid normal jobs like driving an "Uber" or working in an office/shop/factory/construction site. To accept that idea would be to create a new aristocratic class when we should abolishing the old princes and aristocrats.
What we need, I feel sure, is a redistribution of labour so that everybody who can do so would spend some time each year in blue collar work and everybody who can would get higher education and a chance to make art of one sort or another.
The idea of doing other jobs to supplement writing or drawing shouldn't be seen as a terrible thing, a punishment or a suffering. Sharing the jobs around should be seen as normal.
I mean, I've done my half century of sweat labour and it didn't hurt me too much. I'm retired now and still making art of various kinds and I've never asked anyone to pay me for any art piece I've made. making art, writing, drawing etc. is the fun stuff which we get to do in exchange for the blue collar stuff which puts food on the table.
The worst pop song ever written was Sting/Dire Straits song "Money for Nothing" which ridicules the working class from a position of educational privilege.
So what's my question? My question is: What's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet? Sounds perfectly fine to me.
Nothing's wrong with a writer doing other jobs to make ends meet. Writers and artists have been doing that since the dawn of time. Actors too.
But by the same token, there's nothing right about assuming that writing isn't a blue-collar job, or that writers and other people who make art can only make it for love and that thus they need other jobs to subsidise their craft.
I like living in a world in which the people who make the things that make the world worth living in get paid for their work. For me, that includes the people who make films and TV, books, art and music and comics.
Having spent a lot of time on film and TV sets, it's a blue-collar world on set, and everyone is working long and hard to make the shows you love. I'm never going to suggest that the riggers or the gaffers or the make-up team or the focus-pullers should drive ubers in order to have the privilege of being on the set and working there.
Or to put it another way, from the most blue-collar writer I ever knew...
youtube
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The Magnus Archives (Season One) Production Design Project
Hello everyone! Let me introduce myself- I'm Tilda (or Tilde), and I'm want to be a production designer.
Production designers create the overall look of a piece of media. From costumes, lighting, environments, props, etc., these designers make sure that everything looks cohesive and sets the mood.
So, I thought it would be fun to put my skills to the test by designing season one of The Magnus Archives. My winter break started as soon as I became interested in the show. Needless to say, a new obsession and an abundance of free time go well together.
You may have seen these illustrations posted separately, this is a master post of the whole project. My thoughts, processes, and critiques are all included under the cut. If you read them, I hope you enjoy! If, not, thank you for supporting my work regardless.
The Characters
When designing these characters, I tried to avoid being influenced by fan interpretations. Though, that was a challenge (especially with Jon and Sasha). I found that I looked to my friends for inspiration. Certain elements (Jon's glasses) were based off of what they wore.
Pinterest was also useful for finding clothing and pose references. Some looks were based off of different actors- in particular, Tim was inspired by Nicholas Galitzine and Elias inspired by Matthew Lillard.
Jane was the most fun to design! I believe in making terrifying characters actually terrifying.
Elias's design needs the most work. Having now finished the show, I see that it doesn't fit him. The purple is overly saturated, especially compared to the set. He looks out of place! I'd reverse the color palette to mostly green/yellow with purple accents instead. Although, I will forever defend the purple tint in his gray hair.
The Set
Jonathan's office was a treat to design! Balancing the color and clutter was especially important. This room is meant to be claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but not overbearingly so.
The wood looks to be full of splinters, but not so worn that it can be thrown out. The chairs offer no back support, and the shelves make the room smaller. The goal was to represented Jon's mind. Intricate, messy, and suffocating (Note: that is more of a season two description).
One goal was to capture the look of an actual archive. Valuable times was spent researching the different kinds of storage, files, paper, etc. The texture and color had to be accurate.
A split-complementary color palette of blue-green, yellow-green, and red was used. Of course, I had to get green in there, and the varying hues and desaturated reds worked well for the wood and filing supplies.
Jane's ashes and the Web lighter on the desk place this set at the end of season one. I find details like this to be important, it's one of my favorite parts of design. There is much needed abundance of eye imagery as well. Most obviously in the carpet, but eyes are carved into the table and watch from the shelves.
My main critique is the lighting- the filters used could be adjusted as to not distort the colors of the boxes. They look inconsistent. The Web lighter could also be more obvious, yet it is small and pixelated.
The Props
I designed these as I re-listened to season one, and it is the most recent piece I finished. Combining the details described in the show with what the objects would have realistically looked like was interesting. That was most useful for the clown, the Ming vase, and Ex Altiora.
Each of these objects came from a specific time with a specific look. Ex Altiora was bound in calf leather from the 1800s, so those books were referenced. Same with the frills on the clown's outfit.
The Ming vase was especially interesting, as it is from the Jiajing period. When looking at photographs of Jiajing vases, I found that many of them lacked handles and had an hourglass shape. That was fascinating to me, as many artists depict a standard oval-shaped vase. Also, the vase's design is described as straight lines that create distorted patterns when looking at it. That effect was achieved using chromatic aberration and the liquify tool (chromatic aberration was used to create a vertigo effect on Ex Altiora).
My critiques are... nitpicky. minimal. The shading on top of the garbage bag is unnatural. The thickness of the gold engraving on Ex Altiora is uneven. The "I" in "Immediate Consideration" is not capitalized. Other than that, I'm happy with how the props look.
Conclusion
First off, if you read everything, thank you!! It is a lot, I know.
My greatest takeaways are that 1) ask for critique, always 2) research skills are necessary for design 3) references are your friend! Seriously guys, use your references.
I hope you enjoyed this project and I'm excited to share more of my work in the future!
#and before anyone asks#i am not doing this for any other season#feel free to ask any questions about this project!#tma#the magnus archives#tma season one#production design#tildexart#tilda rambles
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John Price's secretary 💌
John was adamant that he was fine working alone - desperate to convince Laswell that he didn't need help with the mounting paperwork and mission reports piling up on his desk. The last thing he needed was some airhead flitting around base and getting in everyone's way with the sole purpose of lessening his workload. He was a captain, should've been able to file his own paperwork just like the rest of his men.
That's why on your first day, he was no less than brusque with you. You who strode into his office with a polite smile and a practised firm handshake, introducing yourself to him with the obvious statement of your name and position. He couldn't help but immediately think to himself how lovely you were, how out of place the radiance of your smile was in such a dark place as this. His introduction was as gruff as yours was gentle, listing off your duties to you like you didn't already know what they were, a tablet already in hand as you took note of any extra information provided to you with a stiff reluctance, nails tapping away at the screen before you, his calendar already jotted meticulously down to the hour.
"Anything you want me to prioritise?" You chirped warmly, ignoring the way his eyes had already returned somewhat dismissively back to the screen of his desktop. In a way, though, you were almost relieved he wasn't looking at your expression, wasn't looking to see the way your eyes went wide when he pointed at the box of unfilled paperwork stored messily in manila files, dumped on the floor beside his desk, piled so high they leaned. You were sure that even one more piece of A4 thrown on the pile would have the whole thing come tumbling down like depressing corporate Jenga.
The paperwork had you drowning until lunch, heel tapping rhythmically against the linoleum as you stamped off and filed, stamped off and filed, hours crawling by at a snails pace whilst your desk became increasingly cramped for space. The paper overrunning your desk also occupied your mind so much that you didn't notice the tall shadow of John Price looming over you until he cleared his throat, making you jump with a squeaked out "Oh!" and a hand clutching at your chest in surprise.
"Didn't mean to startle you." He rumbled lowly, his warm, apologetic tone making you blush, unintentionally fluttering your eyelashes up at him, an action which causes him to inadvertently ball his fist, trying to hide the appreciative glaze settling over his baby blues. "You haven't eaten." His voice came out softer, trying not to startle you again.
"No. I guess not." You muttered softly in response, torn halfway between staring back up at him and shying away from the intensity of his gaze. "S'pose I got too caught up in all of this." A hand indicating to the paperwork drowning your desk made him chuff out something which sounded pleasantly like a laugh.
"Would you like some lunch?" Had you nodding emphatically in response, not even realising how hungry you'd become in your intense focus.
:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:
The next few months were much the same, paperwork lumped on your desk, working until John came and offered you to join him for lunch. With every meal shared you learned more about him, and with every guiding hand he placed on the small of your back when he walked you to the mess hall, you grew more - appreciative? Your guilty little work crush grew harder to suppress.
It was hard not to be into John Price, with his gruff demeanour and contradictorily soft eyes and gentle hands, you couldn't help it. He was a good, kind man, so different from the others who haunted your past - a fact which you struggled to forget when he'd walk you to your car after working late, occasionally even bringing you coffees on early mornings.
".. You with me?" His voice snaps you from your reverie, his fingers drumming on the wood of your desk, one eyebrow raised in intrigue.
"Sorry?" You murmur in confusion.
"Said I've got a work dinner tonight with some important people. Need you to come along, take some notes for me."
:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:
#cod mwii#cod mw2#tf 141#John price#captain John price#captain price#captain price x reader#captain price x y/n#john price x reader#john price x y/n#price x reader#price x y/n#john price cod#call of duty
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okie but imagine love at first sight with simon riley
and no, i mean him !!
the very moment you take that one step into the room — and your eyes meet his baby blue ones — he is done for. dead gone. no hope whatsoever.
why? 'cause there stands his future wife.
propped up against the counter, you are far too engrossed in captain price’s pre-mission lecture to pay any attention to simon’s heavy gaze raking over your entire body. the lieutenant swallows up every fine detail your beauty has to offer — from the slope of your nose to those tiny beauty marks scattered across your soft skin.
(they’re almost like a nighttime constellation of stars, created solely for him to discover.)
he admires the pretty nail polish coating all ten fingernails, and the three rings you're wearing. all gold. one's sitting on your right pinky, the second on your index, and the third's on your right middle finger.
do you like tea, pretty girl? he wonders, watching as you shake hands with his captain.
it is perfectly fine if you don't. but if you do, simon hopes your main choice is earl grey. there is an unopened box sitting back in his flat — it's yours! all you need to do is let him know. (he'll make you tea every goddamn morning if that helps you wake up.)
all the countless thoughts and feelings and questions rummaging through his head. simon wants to learn everything about you — your interests and hobbies, likes and dislikes, dreams and desires.
did you receive that stunning smile from your mother? or are you the spitting image of your father? are you a cat or dog person? if his nightmares fuck up his sleeping, would you hold him close?
it's quite bizarre, actually.
simon's military personnel file registers his birth year as 1981 — so fucking long ago. and yet, it was not until five minutes ago that he ever felt this alive.
#call of duty#cod mw#cod ghost#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon riley x fem!reader#ghost x reader#vic writes 🧸
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Getting some files together regarding the UFO crash in November. There was a Doctor sighting. Looks like the "don't blink" Doctor. What is he doing with that thing in his hand?
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So sleepy… here’s a messy group hug doodle
#ava tsc#ava green#ava yellow#ava blue#ava red#avm purple#animation vs minecraft#animator vs animation#the box files#march does art
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Across Every Universe
Well, this got away from me and then BAM - over 9k words. Uh, I will also be willing to pay for therapy if needed, oopsies. Anyway, please enjoy! I cried multiple times while writing this. All of my favorite things in life are rolled into this one fic.
Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! love you all <3
TAG LIST IS OPEN! - 14 SPOTS LEFT
(please send me a direct message to be added)
Earth 199999
“Mr. Verstappen?”
Max look up from the suit that he was currently working on. His eyes were blocked by his newest technological glasses that kept information in his fingertips.
He wanted to roll his eyes. This new assistant really didn’t get the memo of Do Not Disturb. Man, did he wish Kelly were still here. Yet, there was that unspoken rule of not dating your boss, so Max was happier with her being his girlfriend rather than assistant.
“Yes?” he muttered back, looking back down at the prototype reactor that should be 15% more powerful than the one he has now.
“Mr. Leclerc is here to see you.”
Max sighed as he threw the screwdriver down. “I told Charles that I was to not be disturbed.”
The assistant shrank back but continued on, much to his annoyance. “He said it was urgent. Something about Case 89?”
That got Max’s attention right away. He abruptly stood up, knocking down a few things on his desk as he rushed past his assistant.
“Cancel the rest of my meetings today.”
“But sir, you have a call with the president and a public appearance…”
Max twirled around. “I said, cancel everything.”
A large gulp sounded as he stared down at the incompetent helper. Maybe he could convince Kelly to come back.
“Yes sir.”
With that, Max stalked down the hallway to the elevator. Once inside, he pressed the button for the top floor. He checked his watch, making sure the technology was there. Specifically, the watch could change into a powered glove if he needed it. And he sure hoped he wouldn’t. The elevator sounded when he finally reached the floor.
He was barely out of the small box when three pairs of eyes were on him.
“Took you long enough,” a Monegasque accent sounded.
With a roll of his eyes, Max rebutted, “My assistant doesn’t get the meaning of my orders.”
A squawk of a laugh came from the corner.
“You think that’s funny Lando?” Max quipped as he turned to his right.
A curly hair Brit sat on a table, feet put together like he was stretching his inner thighs.
“Everything is funny Max when you don’t have a stick up your ass,” Lando responded as he slid off the table.
“This is not the time for laughs and games gentlemen,” another British accent sounded.
Charles finally spoke again. “I apologize Director Horner.” He shot a stare at Lando. “It won’t happen again.”
While this was happening, Max had taken a step to his computer. His fingers danced over the keyboard and brought up surveillance footage from downstairs. His eyes flickered up to look at his two “companions” and, well, his boss per say.
The Monegasque was in his “get up” as Max called it. The multiple layers of ancient looking clothes disguised his figure. His red cape floated behind him and a green jewel seemed to glow behind its eye-like holder around his neck.
Lando was dressed a skin tight red and blue suit. A web-like pattern covered its entirety and a spider lay resting on his chest. The face piece was tossed on the couch behind the table where he previously sat. His fingers twitched and flexed with lack of motion.
Director Horner was draped in his regular black trench coat. Black shoes, black shirt, and black pants accompanied the fashion piece. His hair was kept and gelled. The most distinct item was a black eye-patch that covered his right eye. No one knew how he got it, but the three claw marks that started at his eyebrow gave Max a few hints. There was that old encrypted file that mentioned something about a flerken.
“So what are we working with?” Max questioned as the correct surveillance footage came up. On the screen was a clear box, with what looked like a person sitting in the farthest corner. Long hair covered their face as it was tucked into their knees.
Charles did a motion with his arms. Golden strands danced around and flickered before they disappeared. Horner sighed and rubbed his brows as Charles let out a nervous chuckle.
Lando rolled his eyes before clicking something on his wrist. A pull up hologram flashed from his specialized watch.
There was a picture of a young girl and a list of lettering to the left of it.
Max crossed his arms, eyes hard and cold. Charles let out a little gasp as he quickly gazed the list.
Horner kept quiet.
Lando began to read off of the floating screen. “Her name is Y/n L/n. Twenty-two years old. An orphan. Lived in Brooklyn all her life.”
Max waved his hand in frustration. “We know this. I want to know why she flagged our radars and is currently in the most powerful containment cell we own.”
If he had a desk with papers all over in front of him, the papers would be on the floor in one clean swipe.
Lando sucked in a breath. “She killed 12 people in a freak accident.”
A video started to play.
The girl was surrounded by mass destruction. Smoke and fire filled the air. Bodies littered the floor. Yet, Max’s attention was on the black tendrils coming out of her back. They were a fluid type, moving around through the air like a fish in water. The girl seemed distressed as her hands were trying to stop the things coming out of her back.
The tendrils suddenly stopped and disappeared back from where they came from her back. The girl stopped, looked around, and looked right at the security cameras. A moment later, one large black tendril flew from her hand and cut the video.
Lando sighed when he put the hologram down. “She was found two days later, unconscious. The tendrils came out when the police found her. They seemed like they were trying to protect her. That’s when they called in Charles and I.”
“They were difficult to deal with, but seemed responsive to another protection spell that I was able to use to transport her,” Charles concluded.
Director Horner questioned, “Why was Norris called as well?”
Lando decided to answer for himself, “Well it is my jurisdiction and I’ve dealt with something like this before. Remember Eddie Brock. This symbiote seems to be of familiar decent.”
While the three others kept talk, Max continued to watch the scared girl. At this point a tendril had appeared and was almost trying to comfort you.
“I’m going to go talk to her.”
That shut the three up.
Charles looked at him with a weird gaze. “You don’t know what she can do.”
Max pointed at the screen.
“She’s a little girl who is probably scared to death of who we are and what we might do to her. She’s probably thinking that she’s going to die in the next few days.”
“I’ll go with. I’ve seen this before. I lost my friend because of this thing. I won’t let it take another life,” Lando confessed. A hard look on his face.
“Then it’s settled. Lando lets go.” Max turned to leave, Lando hot on his tail. Charles and Director Horner stayed behind and continued to look at the file.
The elevator took Max and Lando down to the locked floor. Max clicked a few buttons on his watch and used his fingers to wrap the glove around it. The whir of the machine sounded as it warmed up.
“I will give a signal if I think the subject will engage. I need you up in the sky.” Max stepped out of the metal box.
Lando nodded. “On it.”
When the two got to the door, Max swiped a card. The door opened and Lando started to climb the walls. Once at a significant height, Lando stopped and hung on with one foot and one hand. His other hand was ready to shoot a web to swing in.
Max slowly walked over.
In the time that Max and Lando had taken to get down there, the tendril had disappeared. But to Max’s surprise, the girl was looking right at him. Without any fear, Max opened the door, stepped over, closed it, and sat down on the opposite side of her.
“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered, visibly shaking.
Max was taken back.
“Excuse me?”
You looked him dead in the eyes.
“When do you plan to kill me?”
Max looked with sad eyes. What had you gone through for that to be the first question to run through your mind? He shook his head.
“I’m not going to kill you. No one is going to kill you. We have an offer for you actually.”
It was now time for you to look confused.
“There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people to see if they could become something more.”
You inhaled. “To see if they could work together when we needed them to, to fight battles that we could never.”
Max smirked.
You shrugged your shoulders. “I’ve heard the speech on the news.”
“What’s your name?”
“Y/n. Y/n L/n.”
“Welcome to the team kid.”
From a small window above, the sunset cast a small sliver of orange light into the room. It illuminated the small space between you and Max, almost acting as a bridge from the past to the new present.
Earth 2113
A grunt left Max’s lips as he threw another knife at the tree. He had been in this cove for a few hours. The stream provided him with much needed fresh water. He was able to take a mock shower, but it only reminded him of the sweet lake that he had back home.
Home.
It felt like a foreign concept.
Weeks had passed since he had last been there. It was supposed to be his last year until he aged out. But really, the odds were never in his favor.
His name was in there 68 times.
Year before, his name had been in there even more times. Not once was his name chosen. But, this year it had been.
How he wished to return back to his own trees, and use an ax instead of the knife he was currently twirling.
A snap of a branch had him shoot up, knife raised ready to throw. His eyes darted around his utopia that might soon become bathed in blood.
As he turned to his right, his eyes met big round ones.
Your small frame was frozen in fear. The rushing sound of water had mocked you long enough. You were so thirsty.
Max watched as you glanced at the river and then back to him. His tense shoulders relaxed once he realized what you were here for.
He slowly brought the knife down, as to not scare you.
“It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”
You did not seem convinced, but you seemed less scared.
“Go on.”
That seemed to do the trick as you darted over and started to fill a water bottle first.
Smart, Max thought.
He had seen you a couple times during training. The twelve year old from District 11. Small, witty, scared. Your eyes always seemed to be filled with tears during training. However, you seemed determined for someone who probably knew that they wouldn’t win the games.
“Thank you,” you whispered after you had gotten your fill of the water. In your outstretched hand was an apple. “Got it from the big pile.”
Max stared at it. His stomach said yes, but his head said no. The rational side said it probably wasn’t poisoned, but the back of his mind tried to convince him that it was.
“I have another one. I can eat it first?”
Max nodded at the offer and you took a bite. He waited for a few minutes, waiting for you to keel over. Except it never happened. You ate the entire apple happily. Max liked to wonder if you might have enjoyed an apple in school before all this. Maybe your hair would be put in two pigtails, done by your mother with a kiss on the forehead.
He finally took the apple and his stomach and brain were both happy.
This seemed to be their little thing that happened in the next few days.
Max would wait by the river just before the sun started to set. And you would somehow show up with two shiny apples.
He thinks at this point they might be from sponsors. He had one main sponsor, a man named Christian, who kept supplying him with different small knives and a few things here and there. The two of you would fill your water bottles and eat the apples.
He had gotten you to giggle a couple of times, which lifted his spirits. You taught him which plants were edible, and he taught you how to properly throw a knife. He had given you one of his for safe keeping. But he really hoped that you’d use it if you the time came. Blood on your hands would kill his soul. Yet, he’d rather keep you alive then have you die.
One night, you had fallen asleep on his chest while the two of you watched the late night slide show of who died that day.
Apparently, there were four left including you and him. Your small puffs of air hit his face as he finally closed his eyes. He thought it was funny how you fit perfectly in his arms. His mind wandered to his girl back home in District 8. He wondered if he’d ever have a kid like you that would fit between him and her.
The sound of a boom woke Max up. His arms curled protectively around air. When he noticed, he shot up. Taking no time, he grabbed his bag and knife that was attached to a long stick.
“Kid?” he yelled out, voice straining.
“Kid?” Another shout as he ran.
“Kid?” Shouting, Max jumped over tree stumps and through brush.
He stopped.
“Kid?”
A whisper.
You stood with your back to him. His eyes glanced to what lie in front of you.
A body was faced down. Max sighed in relief. That cannon was not for you.
“Kid, don’t ever do that…again.”
You had finally turned around at the familiar and safe voice.
Max’s heart plummeted at the sight of tears in your eyes, red patch that was slowly growing on your t-shirt, and bloody hands. His backpack and stick dropped to the ground.
A ring vibrated through his ears as he rushed to catch you before you fell to the ground.
“Kid?” Max asked as you looked up at him. Your small hand reached up and touched his face, leaving a bloody trail on his cheek.
“I did it just like you showed me Maxie. Now you can win.”
Max smiled, with tears streaming down his face. The some that fell on you were wiped with his trembling fingers.
“Of course you did.”
Your big eyes stared up at him. “Are you proud of me?”
Such a big question for such a small girl.
“Always,” he whispered back.
“Can you tell me that story? About the big lion and little lion? One more time?”
He let out a wobbly breath.
“Once upon a time, there was a big lion that lived in a forest. He had about 19 other lions, but he was really a loner. The other lions weren’t good friends with the big lion. He felt like he was miles away and no one could touch him.”
He noticed your eyes start to slowly glaze over and he tried to keep going.
“The lion was very lonely and sad, but one day, the world decided to give him a friend: a little lion.”
The cannon boom stopped his story in its tracks. His arms curled around you as he wailed. He wailed and wailed, not caring who could see him.
After a few moments, he gulped down his cries.
“And the lion was finally happy with the cub. He didn’t need any other friends. As long as he had the little one, he’d be ok. And the big lion and little lion left toward the sunset and were friends forever.”
He leaned down to give your little head a farewell kiss.
A few hours later, Max was declared the victor of the 89th Annual Hunger Games. As the helicopter that carried him flew toward the sunset, Max let tears drip down his face freely. He knew his little lion was finally safe.
Always walking toward the sunset, waiting for the big lion to join.
Earth 2230
“Ah Master Charles, glad you could make it,” Lando said snarkily as he sat in his seat.
“Sorry, my padawan had many questions and kept me in the library for too long,” the man confessed as he took his seat next to Lando’s.
“Oscar is the same way. What is with these trainees wanting to spend hours and hours in the library?” Lando’s head was leaned back in mock annoyance.
Master Carlos, who sat across from the curly-haired man smirked. “You were like that once when you were my padawan Lando.”
A scoff escaped Lando’s lips. He turned back to Charles.
“How is Arthur handling everything?”
Charles smirked. “He cried when we had to cut his hair.”
“Well, he will get used to it,” a new voice piped up. The man had curly hair, like Lando’s, but a big gummy smile was plastered on his face.
“Daniel, you don’t understand. He was inconsolable.” Charles’s hands raised in frustration.
“Does anyone know why we were summoned? And where is Max and Master Horner?”
The doors slid open and two figures walked in.
“We’re sorry for out tardiness Master Alonso. We had some trouble in the elevators.” Christian sent Max a knowing look that was returned with an eye roll. Max huffed as he sat down in his chair next to Charles.
Once seated, Christian began to talk.
“Well, I guess you’re wondering why we were all summoned here today.”
A snort came from Lando, who quickly shut up after he received a glare from Carlos. He sank back into his chair.
Christian continued. “Master Vettel and Master Räikkönen think they’ve found the chosen.”
Murmurs began to spread around the room. Annoyed with the added noise, Max was the one who spoke up.
“Silence.”
The room quieted.
Daniel was the one to lean forward. “How do they think they’ve found the chosen? It’s just a prophecy that has been collecting dust for centuries.”
Christian rubbed his face. “All they said was that they felt a disturbance in the force when they visited Naboo for their diplomatic mission. They went to investigate and the force grew stronger the closer they got to the capital center.”
A hologram erupted from the middle. It was a map of the center with an undergrown view as well. A red beacon signaled from deep down. Max’s finger pointed at it.
“Underneath they found an illegal human trafficking ring that dealt with children with force sensitivity. When they got there, most of leaders had been knocked unconscious. In the middle was a girl. They said the force just pulsated off her being.”
Christian picked up from there. “They’re bringing her in in just a few moments. She’s been debriefed about everything and is willing to join the cause.”
Lando looked intrigued. “Who’s going to be her master.”
Max leaned back in his chair. “I am.”
A scoff echoed, but it wasn’t from Lando this time. It was from Master Hamilton. Max tilted his head and cast his gaze on the older Master.
“Have something to say Lewis?”
Lewis rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t someone more,” he paused, “advanced in their Master roll be given the chosen as their padawan?”
Charles spoke up. “Like you?”
“Yes,” came the answer from the man.
Carlos spoke, “But you just brought on your own padawan. I don’t think poor George would be too keen on losing a Master so close to his choosing.”
“But you shouldn’t give the chosen over to another child.”
Max stood up in anger. “I’ve been through the trials. I am as much of a Master as you are.”
“Enough,” a new voice roared as the doors to the room opened.
They all stood up and sightly bowed their heads.
“Master Vettel. Master Räikkönen.”
Behind the two stood a teenage girl. Robes already adorned her body. Her hair was tied in traditional high braids, and a smaller, thinner one draped over her shoulder, showing her status.
Kimi took his seat in one of the center chairs, but Sebastian stood in the middle with the girl.
“As you all have probably been briefed by Master Horner, this is Y/n.”
You took a step forward and kneeled before the council. Sebastian took a step around you and sat in his seat.
“You may rise.”
You did as you were told and took a minute to briefly glance at the council of masters. Each one of them winced at the force energy that seemed to just radiate off of you. Well, all of them except one. Your eyes met his electric blue ones. He sent you a comforting smile, which you didn’t have time to send one back before Sebastian spoke.
“State your name for the council.”
You inhaled shakily. “My name is Y/n L/n, from Coruscant.”
Charles leaned towards you, elbows on his knees. “But you were brought here from Naboo.”
You winced at the mention of the name. The masters could feel your distress and Max wanted nothing more than to elbow Charles for that insensitive question.
“I was taken, Master, from my home planet and enslaved for the past three years.”
Charles grimaced at your answer and leaned back, staying silent for the rest of the meeting.
Kimi sent you a small smile before he cleared his throat. “We have brought you here to begin your padawan training.”
That must have comforted you since the force wasn’t buzzing as much around you. The masters were now at ease.
Max wanted to talk, since he was going to be your new master, but he was interrupted by what he thought was a grating voice.
“So, are you the chosen one?” Lewis questioned, eyes slitted as he looked at you.
Your ease was now slowly vanishing as you were under the scrutiny of the master. Your gulp was heard through the room. Lando felt bad as he once had been under the same gaze when he was a Padawan. He tried to send you comforting signals through the force.
“I don’t know for sure if I’m the chosen. I’m just thankful to be alive at this point Master. And I don’t enjoy being picked apart before I even know what I am to begin with.” Your voice had risen in annoyance. “Sir.”
Max smirked. He didn’t need to look around, he knew the others were also smirking or trying not to laugh.
Sebastian spoke next. “Y/n, we would like you to pick your master.”
Max wanted to jump and shout that you were already supposed to be his padawan, but Christian’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.
Your tired eyes looked around the room.
The master with the thick dark hair and tanned skin looked promising, but you could feel that he already had a want for another padawan. He gave off the same energy as the boy with similar hair that you had passed on your way here. His friends called him Rafael.
Across from him, curly hair caught your attention. But you also felt that he already had what he was looking for.
Same as the man with the short goatee and green eyes. You felt a familial energy reach out to someone, probably a brother close by. You wouldn’t want to separate them.
The other curly-haired man showed you a smile that rivaled the sun. Once again, his force energy was already attached, but it seemed he had two. Not rare, but it was weird to feel the force branch like that.
You had already asked Master Vettel and Räikkönen if you could be there padawan, but they had declined.
The dark man in the corner was giving you mixed signals that gave you a headache. His energy was split. The one that was attached was waning at you looked at him, almost as if he was trying to break it. At that moment you decided not to choose him. Because if he wasn’t 100 percent sure with his chosen, how could he be sure with you.
Your gaze finally landed on the blue eyed man that had sent you a smile. His force energy felt like it was vibrating at the same frequency as yours. Which helped it melt into a smooth rhythm.
When it had stilled, you heart, mind, and force had chosen.
Max felt it the moment your signature became still for the first time since you stepped foot into the room.
The other masters, except one, smiled at you. They all stood and left one by one until it was just you and your chosen in the room.
He stood up and walked toward you.
Your head bent in a quick bow. “Master.”
“You can call me Max.”
Your brows furrowed. “Is that allowed?”
Max only smirked. “Who cares. I’m your master now. My rules are your rules.”
You flashed him a smile. “Ok…Max.”
A grin crept onto his face. “You ready to save the galaxy kid?”
With a nod, you two shook hands.
The sunset filled the room as your silhouette became black shapes. Nothing would be better than the orange and pink casts from your home planet as you started your new life as “The Chosen” or better as “Master Verstappen’s Kid.”
Master and Padawan Pairings:
Max and Y/n
Charles and Arthur
Carlos and Rafael (FAD)
Lando and Oscar
Daniel and Liam with Yuki
Lewis and George
Not mentioned – Alex and Logan
Former Christian and Max
Former Toto and Lewis
Former Jules and Charles
Former Carlos and Lando
Earth 934
1991
Your eyes glanced around the big train as you tried to find an open seat. Your hands clutched your bag as you kept walking further and further toward the back. You sighed in relief as you finally noticed a room with no one in it. You softly opened the door and slid in. Both seats were empty.
Taking a minute to breathe, you stared out at the vast country side that the train passed through. You almost fell asleep, but the sudden open and close of the car door made you jump. Your head turned toward the intruder.
A boy, possibly older than you since he already had his robes, was leaning against the now closed door. He took a deep breath before his blue eyes landed on you.
“Hi,” you said, not wanting the air to be filled with awkward silence. The boy did not reply, but he did go over and sat on the opposite bench of yours. Your folded your arms. He dared to interrupt your quiet and not respond.
You opened your mouth to speak once again, but he beat you to it.
“My name is Max. Sorry for interrupting whatever you had going on.”
Your mouth closed at his confession.
“What do they call you kid?”
“I’m not a kid. I’m twelve years old.”
Max rolled his eyes. “Which makes you a kid. You’re two years younger than I am.”
“That makes you fourteen. And by technicalities, you would be a kid as well.” You huffed, not enjoying the teasing from the older boy.
Max pouted. “Just tell me your name.”
It was your turn to roll your eyes.
“It’s L/n. Y/n L/n.” A smirk crept on your face and Max’s mouth dropped open. He leaned forward, almost as if to tell you a secret.
He whispered. “Do you have, the, you know?”
Your small hand came up and brushed your little bangs away. There, on your forehead was a lightning bolt shaped scar. It wasn’t like a cartoon shape as it had little bolts that stretched out across and down, but stopping at your eyebrow.
“Wow,” Max managed to breathe out. “What house do you reckon you’ll get?”
You shrugged. “Well, my parents died and I was adopted by a muggle couple and they were awful. So I really don’t know what the houses actually stand for.”
Max looked angry for a moment. “Well, that’s bloody terrible for you have to gone through that. I hope that you’ll get into my house.” He pulled on his green and silver tie. “One of my friends, his name is Lando, is also in Slytherin. But then you have my best friend Daniel in Hufflepuff, Charles is in Gryffindor with his brother Arthur. You’d have to watch out for Lewis though in Ravenclaw, he’s a bit extreme.”
You took a moment to absorb all of his words.
“I think I’d like to stay with you or one of your friends.”
The 14-year-old was elated at the statement. “We’ll see what happens.”
1997
Your mind often went back to that conversation years ago. It was maybe the last time you ever felt safe anywhere. Hogwarts was supposed to be your home, yet here it lay destroyed.
That fateful night you had not been chosen to be a part of the Slytherin house, but thankfully you were placed in Gryffindor with Arthur and Charles. They took care of you like a family should have. Max also stayed super close to the three of you. Whether it was going to Honey dukes, playing quidditch, or even making potions in Headmaster Horner’s class, the four of you were together.
Your wand twirled in your hand as you sat on some broken steps. The once beautiful ceiling had giant holes in it that made way for the night sky. Tears streamed down your face as you pondered your next step.
It had gone downhill so quickly.
Lewis, as it turns out, had given your location away to Toto, who had wanted you dead since you were just a baby. He was the one to kill your parents and “bless” you with the mark on your head. The betrayal had sent shivers down everyone’s spine.
Many people had been killed because of you.
Charles and Arthur’s brother Jules had been hit by a stray spell. Their screams and wails were now permanently engraved in your brain.
Max’s girlfriend Kelly, a nice Hufflepuff, had been attacked by a rogue werewolf. She was still alive, but barely.
Your two Ravenclaw friends, Alex and Logan, were found under some rubble, hands clenched together as to share pain before death. You remembered how Oscar, another Ravenclaw who hung out with you and Lando, sobbed into the latter’s shoulder for hours after he found his blond best friend.
Your friends had died to protect you and you had done nothing.
At this thought, your mind was made up.
Toto wanted one thing, and one thing only: for you to die. For the umpteenth time your mind wandered to his ultimatum that he had given you earlier that evening.
“Y/n L/n. I know that you know that you are trapped now with nowhere to go. Come to the forbidden forest tonight and I will cease all fighting on my end. The rest of your friends won’t have to die due to your insubordination and fear. When you come, be prepared to die.”
His snake-like voice had been broadcast through the minds of everyone. Before he had even finished, you took your leave, not wanting to watch as another family wept over a dead brother or sister.
With shaky legs, you stood up and brushed your skirt. Your face showed your determination as you began to walk down the steps. But as your foot hit the actual floor, a body rammed into yours.
“Kid!” A voice from farther away yelled, accompanied by quick footsteps.
A quick glance at the hair that was attached to the body now in your arms let you know it was Arthur. Over the top of his head, you noticed Max and Charles running toward you.
They were quick to also put their arms around you.
Max maneuvered your face so that you were looking him in the eyes.
“Kid, we have to go now before he decides to attack again. Arthur and Charles know a way out. Let’s go.”
He thought that you had agreed as he turned around to leave. Charles followed him, and Arthur tugged on your hand, as if to lead you away.
Yet, you stayed put and Arthur’s hand slipped from yours.
“Y/n?” he asked, looking back with tears in his eyes. You gave him a crooked smile as the tears in your eyes finally spilled over.
You tilted your head in the opposite direction. That’s when it hit the three men. You had already made up your mind.
“No, no, no, no. You can’t,” Max choked out the last word.
“I have to Max. I won’t let another one of our friends die because of me. I can’t risk Daniel leaving you or have Lando taken from Oscar right after Logan.” You looked at the two brothers. “I can’t let you two lose each other. I won’t let that happen to your mom.”
Charles looked at your with sympathy swarming his green eyes. He slowly walked toward you and gave you a hug. While you were in his arms, his lips met your forehead. You knew that was going to be his goodbye.
Arthur was next. He pleaded as he curled his arms around you. “Let me go with you. Let me walk with you. I swear I’ll leave before...before...”
Your hand was slowly placed on his cheek as you shook your head. Another sob escaped his lips and a new tidal wave of tears left his and your eyes. “I can’t risk you. Please, stay with Charles.”
Arthur begrudgingly nodded, but not before placing a light kiss on your lips. A small smile graced your face as you tried to kiss back through the tears. When the two of you parted, he looked down at you, a sad smile now replacing his frown.
“Please try to come back to me.” With that, he turned around and left. Charles gave Max a knowing look before he took after his brother.
It was just you and your oldest friend.
Max came over and put his hands on your shoulders. He didn’t give you a hug, or a long speech, or a kiss on the forehead like he usually did when he had to leave you at the train station before every summer. He just looked at you before his eyes glanced at your wand. You thrust it in his hands.
“Take care of them for me?”
“Always.”
“Tell Lando that he can have whatever is in my house. I know he was looking at my Nimbus RB20 the other day.”
“Always.”
“And Max?”
A hum answered as Max couldn’t find the strength to speak.
“Watch the sunsets for me?”
“Always.”
Finally, you rushed into a hug. Max’s arms couldn’t get any tighter around your form. With one last squeeze, you broke the hug and turned away, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer. Your walk to the forest was quick, as you wanted this to be over as soon as possible.
There, suddenly in front of you in all his ugly glory, was Toto. Lewis was to his side, looking rather ashen probably with fear. Even though he betrayed you, you tried to send a comforting smile his way.
“Are you ready to die?” The snake-like voice hissed.
“Yes.”
There was a moment between the yell of “Avada-Kadavra” and when the spell hit you. There, you knew peace. Your body hit the forest floor with a thud.
Arthur, who was still back at the castle suddenly inhaled sharply. Charles, scared for his younger brother’s sanity, knelt next to him.
“What is it?”
Max, Lando, Oscar, and Daniel all crowded around the younger boy.
He could only whisper.
“She’s gone.”
There was no time for mourning as someone screamed out in the courtyard. The group of boys rushed out and what they saw made them stop in their tracks. Headmaster Horner, who had been taken a few days ago, now carried your limp body for all to see.
“Y/n L/n is dead!”
“No!” your friend Lily screamed, but was quickly held back by Oscar.
“Silence. Foolish girl,” Toto hissed.
Arthur turned and put his head on Charles’s shoulder and wept, not caring anymore.
“She’s not dead.” Everyone’s heads turned to Max, who had his wand pointed at the dark wizard. “She’s alive,” he gulped, “in all of us. She wouldn’t want us to give up. She’d want us to continue, even when everything seems dark. And I won’t let her die in vain.”
Toto cocked his head. “Well then, you’ll die along with her.” He pointed his wand at the blue eyed boy, except a large explosion knocked him down. Your rolled out of Christian’s arms and ran toward Max, all while shooting a spell at the downed wizard.
The students and teachers all ran in different directions. The battle was back on.
Instead of running away, Max ran to you. He met you halfway and held you at a distance.
“You came back Kid.”
“Always.”
Earth 7521
“When will he get back?”
Logan stopped his machete in the air. You and he had been out in the sun for a couple of hours, trying to carve poles for the new housing system.
“He’ll get back before the sun goes down.”
“But what if he doesn’t?” Your gaze was cast at the big wall with the giant gap in the middle. What went beyond was your guess as you hadn’t been there, and technically you weren’t allowed to go. You’d chosen to be a woodworker, not a runner.
Logan sighed. He had sworn that he’d take care of the new greenie, but this isn’t exactly what he signed up for.
“Max always gets back right at the gate closes. Has done every day since I got here. He comes in with Alex and they’ll go to the map room.” He really tried to ease your conscience. You had all but attached yourself to the boy since you got here. He couldn’t blame you since Max was really the first one that you saw. He was the same with Alex, as was Oscar with Lando and Max with Daniel.
Your brows furrowed. “But Alex just got back and Max isn’t with him.”
Logan dropped his machete and it thumped in the grass. His head jerked over to where you were looking. There, the Thai runner had just crossed the threshold of the giant gate, but the Dutch runner was nowhere to be found.
“Stay here,” he demanded, but really didn’t expect you to obey. Anything that had to do with Max, you would find out one way or another. A large groan came from the giant wall, signaling that it was about to close.
Logan hastened his pace and heard your footsteps try to keep up with him. As he got near, Lewis and Lando both crowded around Alex. The blond picked up on their conversation.
“Where’s Max?” Lando questioned as his eyes kept flickering between the hunched over runner and the wall.
Alex sucked in a breath. “We got separated. A griever was out in the open.”
Multiple gasps came from others as a crowd had formed.
Lewis’s eyes widened. “But grievers don’t come out in daylight.”
Alex had a sullen look. “I know.”
Lando cast another glance at the metal gate that let out another groan and a shake. This time, the doors were slowly closing.
“So we’re just going to leave Max in there?” Lando gestured.
Lewis looked down at the ground and nodded. A silence went over the group as they were now preparing to mourn the loss of one of their family.
Logan’s heart sunk. You must have been devasted. He turned around to where you were supposedly.
“I’m so s-…Y/n?” His head whipped around trying to find you. His heart sunk even further as his eyes finally found you, right in front of the closing doors. “Y/N!”
Now you had everyone’s attention.
“Greenie!” Lewis yelled.
You simply turned your head and looked at the leader. “I got to go save Max.” It was as if you were explaining a simple toy to a toddler, like it was a matter of fact.
“Max is gone Kid. We can’t lose you too,” Lando tried to negotiate and distract you as the doors got closer and closer together.
The doors were so close to closing and Lando thought he was successful. Well, until you bolted and squeezed through the slit. Multiple boys called out for you but it was too late, the doors closed. Logan ran to the metal wall and hit his fist on it multiple times.
On the other side for you, it was silent. An eerie type and not comforting. You tried not to get distracted at the maze-like sequence of walls that stood before you.
Right. You needed to find Max, and fast.
Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you silently ran and didn’t call out Max’s name. It felt like hours before you finally found him. Your eyes watched as his tried to curl up more, to make himself smaller.
“Maxie?” you whispered.
His head shot up, eyes wide as you walked closer to him.
“Kid? What the hell are you doing here?” he whisper yelled back. You took a seat next to him.
“I couldn’t leave you out here alone.”
Max let out a sigh. “Well, now we’ll both be dead by morning.”
You looked down at his bloodied leg. “What happened?”
“Alex and I were mapping like always when a griever jumped out. They’re not supposed to be out in the daylight, but they were. I ran right and Alex went left. I thought I got away but I tripped. I think my ankle is sprained or broken. Couldn’t make it back to camp.”
You absorbed the information before you stood up and took a vine down from the wall. The middle was stiff like a branch and the smaller vines attached to the leaves were bendable. You quickly made work of Max’s ankle and tied the stiff vines to his leg.
“This should give you enough support so we can get back.”
Max looked at you with wide eyes. “You’re good at this. Why didn’t you become a medjack?”
You giggled as you helped him to his feet. “I couldn’t stand the tension between Nico and Lewis anymore and Logan seemed inviting enough.”
That got a little laugh out of Max.
The two of you made your way to the gate where you camped out all night.
“Thank you kid. I’d be dead without you,” Max mentioned when the doors opened the next morning.
“I know. Look Max, the sunrise!”
“Thanks kid. You know they’re my favorite.”
Two years later
Those days in the Glade were much better than what you’d been through in the past two years. From running through the desert and being chased by zombie people to now sneaking into the giant headquarters to find some type of cure.
Your eyes were now on Max as his head swayed back and forth. He didn’t look good as his face was drenched with sweat.
It had been about a week since he told you that he had been infected. You had cried and cried, promising to find a cure. But that promise seemed to be so far away as you were nowhere closer to finding it.
“Hold on Maxie,” you whispered as you tried to keep him upright. His head was now perched on your shoulder as you continuously looked up in the sky, looking for the rescue helicopter. Charles had disappeared once someone told him that his blood was the cure. He had promised to be back quickly, and that was an hour ago.
Max didn’t have much time left.
A thumping in the air caught your attention as you gently placed him back against a wall. Black goup now started to run out of his mouth. You gently wiped it away before placing a kiss on his forehead.
“Here they come Maxie. Just a few minutes more.” You stood up and turned to try to wave the helicopter in your direction. Your smile grew as it now began to get closer and closer.
“Max we’re going to be…ok.” As you now faced Max, confusion and fear glossed over your figure as he now stood a few feet away from you. His body twitched as his head swayed back and forth.
“Max?”
Your voice seemed to snap Max out of whatever trance he was in as he sudden rushed toward you and knocked you down. You thought this was it as Max’s hands harshly roamed and grabbed at your body. His hands stopped as he found your gun.
He was quick to cock it and bring it to his head. Your hands were quicker and you knocked it out of his hands and it slid across the floor. Max growled down at you and jumped to go get it, but your hands yanked him back. You grabbed the gun and pointed it at your friend.
Your heart broke as you looked at his sickly nature. His eyes cleared to that pretty blue that once always covered his eyes with kindness swarming in the storm. But now, he looked at you with a pleading nature.
“Please, Kid. Please,” he begged, but you couldn’t pull the trigger.
The clearness was quickly wiped away as you finally lost your friend. He managed to get up and sling the gun out of your head. Somehow, he had gotten a knife from his pack on his body and he came swinging. The two of you fought for a moment, before Max suddenly went still.
Oh.
Why did he stop?
Max stumbled back and you finally saw.
Oh.
Your lips quivered as you tried to slow his fall to the ground. You gently laid his head on a rock. He wheezed as he looked up at you. The helicopter wind picked up and your hair started to dance around your face.
Max closed his eyes and his chest rose, fell, and froze.
Your scream was silenced by multiple yells and the deafening sound of the chopper that had finally come. Hands grabbed your arms and ripped you away from your friend. You tried to fight and claw your way back, but the team was too strong.
They sat you down in a seat and allowed you to just cry.
Your eyes caught glimpses of orange and yellow out the open door of the flying machine.
Max would have loved the sunrise.
Earth 1217
“Y/n!” The yell of your team principal caught you attention.
“Yeah?” You set down your race notebook and walked down the office hall. Yes, you hated office days, but at Red Bull you wanted to go over everything that involved you. Call it a bit of a prima-donna attitude, but you weren’t a five time champion or Red Bull’s golden girl for nothing.
“I wanted to take you out to the track. The new recruit is doing his testing laps for next season,” the older Brit mentioned as you joined him in walking down the hallway.
You turned your head. “I though Daniel was up for Checo’s seat?”
Christian sighed and looked down as the two of you walked passed the trophy shelves. Most of them were from you.
“Daniel said he didn’t feel comfortable enough to handle our car. Maybe in a few years after he gets back in the groove in the Alpha Tauri, but not now.”
You snorted. “Guessing Charles is as comfortable as ever being the Prince of Mercedes?”
“Ah yes, your childhood friend-slash-rival did ask me to send his kind regards and told you to watch out for any puddles.” Your eyes rolled at the last statement.
“All right, talk to me. Who else did we ask before you texted me that only said ‘I found him’.”
Christian sighed as he backed his car out. The two of you had gotten to the parking lot in no time and were now headed to the track.
“Well, Lando just renewed his contract with Ferrari, same as Oscar. Lewis, well, he never responded and McLaren never got back to us. Most of them aren’t really looking to be second to you.”
“They’re just mad they’ve been dominated by a woman for five years straight and will be for another three. Maybe after that, someone can be number one.”
The car jerked as he parked it. You stepped out, tennis shoe hitting the ground. They really went well with what you normally wore: skinny jeans, a Red Bull Polo, and your number 1 hat.
The roar of the RB18 caught your attention as your eyes watched it zoom by. A bright yellow helmet caught your attention, but it went around the corner too quickly for you to watch.
Once at the mock garage, you met up with Mitch and junior race engineer GP. Apparently the new recruit had wanted to keep his engineer with him through everything. Which you understood as you brought Mitch over with you after your McLaren days.
“So is this Sargeant? His second place in the championship looked promising, but he was a bit slow,” you mentioned as your sunglasses covered eyes looked around. An angry looking man stood in the corner, bit headphones on his ears.
"No. It's not Sargeant. His name is Max Verstappen. He jumped from F3."
Your eyes narrowed at the big angry man who seemed like he wanted to take a fork to a mechanic. You leaned over to Christian. “My abusive-parent radar is going off. I want him out of the garage.”
Christian once again sighed. “I can’t throw our new driver’s father out of the garage on a hunch.”
You took a sip of your Red Bull. “You did it with my parents.”
“Y/n, they hit you in front of me. I had proof. Just wait a bit and we’ll watch him.”
You huffed. “Fine, but he doesn’t come to any debriefs or meetings.”
“Perfect.” He clapped his hands and your attention was now placed back at the newbie’s times. He was driving just a bit slower than you, but they were marginal tenths and hundredths behind.
Mitch, being the senior engineer, clicked a button. “All right Verstappen, bring it back in.”
“Got it. Thank you!”
You hummed. “Polite kid.”
Your RB18 pulled up and a scraggly kid jumped out of the car. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as his dad got off his ass and started to come over. Not wanting anything to happen, you made your way to the boy, cutting him off.
He had just taken his helmet and balaclava off when you reached him. Christian came up and joined you. The boy finally noticed you and looked at you with a gaze of amazement.
“Max right?” you questioned and held out a hand to the Dutch kid.
He nodded, still trying to take in the sight of his role model right in front of him. That’s when he noticed that you were still waiting for him to take your hand. He yanked off a glove and shook your outstretched hand.
“Max Verstappen.”
“How old are you?” You took another sip of your Red Bull and offered Max one as well, who took it quickly.
“I’m nineteen, but I’m turning 20 at the end of September.”
You had a fond smile on your face. You knew what it was like to be thrust into this life at a young age. Hell, Christian took a chance on you when you were just seventeen.
“Who’s your favorite driver?” Mitch questioned, standing behind you. You knew she was teasing the boy as his face got red really quick.
He mumbled, “You.”
You had a shit-eating grin on your face as you look down at the boy. You went to say something else, but he beat you to it. You had a feeling that he might do it more often, but you didn’t mind.
“I, uh, just wanted to say that I’m perfectly fine with being number two driver. I know you’re on a mission to make it to 8 championships. And I’d like to help you do it.”
Your heart may have melted at the confession.
“Well, once I get my 8 championships, let me tell you what. We here at Red Bull like to be record breakers, so I’ll help you make it 9. Sound like a good deal?”
Max’s face lit up at the semi-promise of not just one championship, but nine!
“Sounds good.” A giggle left his lips.
The sun was setting as you were all called for a brief meeting so that Max could sign the contract. Orange and yellows blended in together and bathed the two of you in its glory.
“Ok then, welcome to the team kid!”
Earth 1218 – Present Earth
TikTok had become your addiction when you had spare minutes in your busy life. Videos passed by so quickly, you sometimes didn’t even register what it said. Thankfully though, you managed to not accidentally like anything that could harm your career before it barely got started.
One trend seemed to be very popular at this time. Your fingers would swipe through the photos of various TV and movie characters. The pictures on each slide had the same captions. One being “Do you think we’re together in every universe?” and the other “I sure hope so.”
You’d already asked Arthur and he just rolled his eyes.
“Of course we would be. I think you’re stuck with me wherever you are,” he had told you.
Yet, there was one driver who you really needed to ask. You had already seen versions of this made for multiple driver pairs. The ones of Charles and Max, Oscar and Logan, and Lando and Daniel always made you cry. You couldn’t help it.
But, the ones of you and Max always made your heart happy. You knew that you weren’t the easiest to take care of and you came with baggage. However, Max never made you feel bad about it: he did the opposite. Many times, he made you forget all the bad things in your life by just being there.
You sent him one of the generic ones from someone’s random account.
Little Racer
https.www.tiktok./KID89.192&MAX0133/
Do you think we’re together in every universe?
It took him a few minutes to respond since he was often busier than you were. The season was coming to an end, and his fourth championship was in his grasp.
Big Racer
I’m sure of it kid.
Can’t get rid of me that easily.
Little Racer
And you still probably type like a grandpa in every one too! :P
You laughed out loud when three middle finger emojis followed your text. Where you were sitting in the living room of your Monegasque apartment, the sunset caught your eye. You smiled as the rays nearly blinded you, but you were fine. The warmth spread across your cheeks as the rays kissed your face with softness.
You didn’t know what other versions there were of you. You honestly didn’t care. Because as long as you had Max, you’d be just fine.
Across every earth, galaxy, and universe you’d find yourself dreaming of a life you didn’t live, but could only imagine how good everything would be in the end.
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Chop Shop is strictly 18+ for language, themes, and potential explicit content.
🔗 - Game Intro | Bug Report | Ko-Fi
Episode Three is now available! (+ 86,000) - PLAY HERE
Get your first taste of the underground car scene.
Meet some other players in the game.
Be made an offer.
5 achievements up for grabs!
And more!
AN: thank you so much for the patience - i've been dying to put this update out. lots of new characters and lots of variation!! there are 3 major paths to choose between in this ep, i recommend trying them all out! and thank you to my betas for keeping me sane lmao
This update comes with a patch and UI refresh (Version 1.1.2) Notes are under the cut. If preferred, you can access them in game in the start menu.
STORY
EPISODE 01:
MC should now be able to smoke! Buying cigarettes at the shop was not triggering correctly. If playing with an old save, you DO NOT have to restart as code at the beginning of EP 03 has resolved the error. Player will need to restart if they wish to read smoking related scenes in previous episodes.
Updated MC Name selection. Player can now choose from a list of names instead of having to input one to proceed.
Player can now give Taha their chocolate bar if it's in their inventory.
When asking Maz about their scars, the second choice 'You want to ask about it but you're going to keep your mouth shut.' should now take you to the correct response.
Extended and updated 'End Game' scenes.
EPISODE 02:
If MC is faint after exiting the car, but also drunk, they should now get the fainting scene, followed by Dilani helping the MC in the bathroom.
UI + TECHNICAL
SETTINGS:
Autoname Save is now defaulted to ON. This is to add ease and flow to gameplay, especially for mobile, tablet, and app users, instead of calling for an inputted saved name. If player wants to input save names, toggle Autoname Saves to OFF.
Autoname Save previously only used the forename of the MC but now includes the surname as well.
Removed the Fullscreen toggle as it is only intended for desktop use. Player can still toggle fullscreen function via the UI bar on the desktop interface.
Added a choice indicator toggle. (This probably won't come into effect until EP 04 or 05)
Changed serif font from Vollkron to EB Garamond.
OTHER:
Changing the MC's pronouns via the Dashboard has been updated. Additionally, after confirmation will take player back to the Dashboard and not close the dialog boxes entirely.
Hovering over 'Personality', 'Motives', and 'Skills' titles in the Dashboard will now display an information box with a definition. Mobile and tablet users will need to tap on the title.
'Resume Game' now only appears on the main menu when there is an autosave in the saves log.
Choices styling changes.
General UI and button style changes.
Fixed errors with the text message styling.
Added styling for reading text off of a page in game.
Darkened blue in light theme 'Skyline' to reduce eye strain.
CREATE A SAVE
Introducing Create a Save! This feature allows players to quickly manufacture a save file and start at a later point in the game.
Set your identity, appearance, history, and statistics; including personality, motives, and skills. Continue to set key decisions made in previous episodes.
Randomise options available for creating a PC and key decisions.
OTHER
Fixed gaps and spacing issues.
Minor phrasing and sentence structure changes.
Grammar and typo fixes.
whew -- that's a lot of patch notes! apologies for so much that needed to be fixed.
this update shouldn't break/ mess with saves but as a disclaimer i will say, if you spot anything funky, broken, or you don't think things are triggering correctly, try starting a new save. the new create a save feature is incredibly code heavy, and it's been tested relentlessly, but i wouldn't be surprised if something crops up.
if starting a new save doesn't resolve your issue - please submit to bug report or just send me an ask/message.
some things have been meaning to get fixed for Some Time - thank you to everyone that is using the bug report form!
apologies if there are typos and/or bugs - this was a long one to edit and my lovely betas did an OUTSTANDING job reading so much for ep 3 - thank you so much again!!! this time i am going to give it a bit more time before i put together a patch so i can grab more error responses haha.
create a save has also added a wee chunk to the word count, somewhere around 6k, but i'm not including it in the episode 03 word count as it's purely code. so, if you think the total wc is off, that's why!
if you've read this far, happy reading and thank you so much for the continued support!! :) - becky <3
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HEY HEY CAN I REQUEST ANYTHING FLUFFY W CONNOR X FEM READER
YOU WORK IS SO GOODDD
MY DARLINGS FORGIVE ME
requests started coming in hot right as i started my midterms so pls forgive me for taking so long to get through my requests (which i'm loving btw i'm so excited to get to all of them)
with that being said i'll stop yapping and let you read in peace
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
framed
pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader
summary: you're very confused when you find a photograph of yourself on connor's desk.
word count: 1k
warnings: none
author's note: i said i'm done yapping and i mean it i have nothing to say. (except i do wanna say this was inspired by the person that said my connor was very you are in love coded bc that made me happy and got me thinking)
masterlist ⟡ requests
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“What do androids do in their free time, anyway?”
“Plot against humanity? I dunno.”
Hank’s laugh came out in a quiet huff, one that indicated he didn’t think your answer was too far from the truth.
You had come into the precinct hoping to interview Hank and Connor on their latest investigation surrounding a human cult determined to wipe out every single android. As head journalist for the Detroit Free Press, you were desperate to get word before everyone else. And as Connor’s friend, you were sure you could sweet-talk it out of him.
But when you got to the precinct, Connor was, strangely, nowhere to be found. Usually, he trailed behind Hank like a lost puppy, but not even Hank knew of Connor’s whereabouts. His unusual absence only led to conversations about what the hell an android could be doing on his lonesome. Neither of you had any clue.
“Have a seat, kid,” Hank offered, nudging his chin over to Connor’s desk. “You know he’d feel bad if you were standin’ around waiting for him.”
Rounding the table, you took a seat in Connor’s chair. You sat stiffly with your hands atop your thighs, the exact same way Connor would. The realization made you chuckle softly to yourself. Even when he wasn’t here, his presence always made itself known in the subtlest of ways.
Your eyes wandered across Connor’s desk, noticing that it was relatively barren. Hank’s desk was littered with mementos– old donut boxes, Detroit Gears merchandise, anti-android propaganda that he’d crumpled up and intended to trash. But Connor’s desk was plain and organized. A single blue pen sat exactly parallel to his recent case file that had been neatly folded. On top of his case file was a quarter like the one he always fidgeted with. You wondered idly how many quarters he had lying around, having never seen him without one. But the only belonging of actual interest was a picture frame right beside his terminal.
Your brows furrowed as your gaze latched onto the photograph. You were staring directly at a picture of yourself.
Believing it to be a trick of the light, you reached for the picture frame and brought it closer. Sure enough, it was you.
You stared at a version of yourself who was mid-laugh. You could almost hear your own laughter ringing in your ears. It was that genuine kind of laughter, you knew. The kind that was an obnoxious cackle you always wanted to hide. Why on earth would Connor have a picture like that framed?
Come to think of it, where did Connor even get this picture? You didn’t recognize it at all. You couldn’t even place where it was taken. There were zero clues in the photograph as you were the only focus. Nothing else, just you.
You were about to ask Hank about it when a voice over your shoulder startled you, “I really like that picture.”
An inhuman yelp escaped your lips as you spun around in Connor’s chair. You found him looking down at you with a pleasant smile, not even remotely embarrassed to be caught having a photo of you.
“Why… what even… what?” you stammered.
Connor cocked his head curiously, waiting for you to get your words out. But you couldn’t. You were so utterly confused that your brain couldn’t remember a single word in existence. You just stared at Connor with a gaping mouth, holding the picture up for his viewing pleasure.
When you didn’t say anything, Connor’s eyebrows furrowed for only a moment before easing. An endearing habit of his that made your heart flutter. He definitely was not helping you find the right words.
“I’d like to clear your confusion as best I can, but… I’m afraid I don’t understand its cause,” Connor said gently.
From behind, you heard Hank’s quiet snort. He wasn’t helping either.
“Well… Connor,” you started slowly like you were gradually putting the puzzle pieces together. No matter how hard you tried, the pieces weren’t fitting. “Why do you have a picture of me?”
The corners of his lips raised into a small grin, his hands moving to clasp in front of him. You knew this stance to mean he was about to tell a story.
“I asked Lieutenant Anderson about the keepsakes on his desk. I was curious as to why these particular items were objects of significance and what classified them as such,” Connor explained cheerfully. “As I recall, he said ‘I don’t know, they’re just alright, I guess.’ Perhaps my interpretation was incorrect, but I took that to mean those items made him happy.”
Connor’s smile widened slightly. That meant he was finished. He didn’t clear any of your confusion.
“Okay…?” you prompted.
“I wanted to do something similar. I thought it could help me accommodate to deviancy, so I decided to surround myself with things that make me happy.”
Your mouth clamped shut as your confused look turned to one of shock. You were almost sure you hadn’t heard him right, but another laugh (hidden behind a cough) from Hank made you confident that you had.
“I… make you happy?” you clarified.
“Yes,” Connor answered curtly. There was another long pause as you waited for Connor to continue. He seemed to get the hint by now, elaborating further. “I always enjoy your company. I look forward to seeing you when we have scheduled plans. This wasn’t a scheduled visit, so I was pleased to see you were here. It made me smile. Seeing you makes me smile.”
With all his talk of smiling, you couldn’t help cracking one of your own. Seeing your smile made Connor brighten.
“Like that,” he said. “If I could photograph and frame you right now, I would.”
You were so giddy with affection that you couldn’t help but laugh. You had never known Connor to be so poetic with his words.
“You know, Connor,” you said with careless laughter. “I came here to sweet-talk you into an interview for the Press. But here you are sweet-talking me.”
Connor looked pleased with himself, standing a little straighter. “I hope that made you smile.”
“It certainly did.”
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