#a gaggle of scientists

[sga-mcshep-4ever]

"I'm going to see what I can get from the database. Let me know what the autopsy shows up." "All right." "Oh, and tell your pathologists to start with their heads."

[joskippy]

My dream nightvale episode is one centering around carlos' little gaggle of scientist and what theyre up to and the episode is formated like a peered reviewed journal being read out on air. This episode would appeal to no one but me and thats what makes it good

[duckapus]

SMG30: You are the absolute love of my life, my best friend, my soulmate, I would do anything for you.

SMG29: I want you to eat three square meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule.

30: Anything but that.

[limethefirst]

im sorry i but i have to get in on this sonic movie s shadow train i love this movie so much as well! And ive been dieing for some movie shadow x readers to pop up. Is it alright if i request something? Can we have a shadow the hedgehog x reader where you also are living in the g.u.n base maria and shadow were? Your father or mother being on of the scientists and one day maria and shadow find you alone in a corner of the base writing music or playing with toys something (your marias age). Thrn they introuce themselfs and maybe you become part of their gaggle of fraggles to always being with them to the point your mother and gerald agree for you and maria both to share a room. With you shadow and maria being so close in time till your all like siblings? Idk this just sounded so cute. Thank you of your able to write this!

Birds of a Feather

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader x Maria Robotnik (platonic)

warnings: none!!!

summary: after being brought to work with your mother, Maria and Shadow stumble upon you, deciding to invite you to join their little group, from then on the three of you became inseparable

a/n: this is such a cute request! I was gonna end it with both Maria and the reader dying but I think Shadow has been traumatized enough for now…

“You stay put! I have work to do in the lab okay?” Your mother’s voice was stern; being a single mother was tough, especially because she had no one to take care of you while she did her work. You gave her a small nod, acknowledging her request.

A slight sigh escaped her lips as she lightly caressed your cheek, “Just, behave for me please,” was the last thing she told you before she walked into the door to your right, the words ‘Laboratory’ in bright white above the area.

You slowly sat down on the floor, she’d asked you to not leave and you really wanted to respect her decision, even as a child you knew her life was harder than she’d let on.

Unfortunately you were a child with a small attention span. You dug into your pockets and found a small notebook with equations, probably from your mom and a small pencil. Since there was nothing better to do maybe it was best to just draw a little bit, maybe some flowers and animals you liked.

Sitting there, you slightly hunched over, trying your hardest to draw the most beautiful roses and some bees and landscape you could. Suddenly a voice rang out from above you, “What are you doing here?” Your head snapped up, meeting the eyes of a small blonde girl and a strange black and red hedgehog.

“Uhm my mom works here..” you nervously answered her, “What are you doing here?” You asked her exact question but back at her.

“My grandfather works here!” She proudly exclaimed. The hedgehog looked between the both of you, he stood covered behind her, he had a mean face but you could tell he was more curious than anything.

The girl taking note of the awkward silence decided to introduce herself, “I’m Maria! And this is Shadow! What’s your name?”

You looked between the two, taking in who they were before you quietly responded with your name, Maria let out a big grin and Shadow silently repeated it to himself, “What are you drawing?” Maria asked, looking at the small notebook in your hand. You looked down at it and turned it over so the two could see; it looked like a small rabbit with butterflies and flowers around it, “Woah that looks really cool!”

Shadow silently nodded, agreeing with her. You thanked the two of them, fidgeting with your pencil. As Maria continued to talk you took notice of her outfit, she wore a pastel rainbow long sleeve shirt and loose pants with skates on her feet instead of shoes. She must’ve noticed you staring at them as she suddenly asked, “Do you wanna try them!?”

You hesitantly shook your head, as much as you wanted to you didn’t really know her and if she would even be okay with that. Maria reassured you that it was fine and actually really fun, before you could tell her a definite no she’d already taken them off, placing them in front of you, “Try them! Shadow can pull you around,”

Shadow looked between the both of you, clearly not having agreed but Maria nodded her head yes, leaving Shadow to only agree. Surely your mom wouldn’t notice if you were gone for a quick second.

Once you were geared up and Maria found a rope to tie onto Shadow and for you to hold, she grabbed her timer, “Ready, set, go!!” Before you had time to really brace yourself Shadow had already set off, he ran through the base, his face held a small smile as he checked back a few times to check if you were still holding on.

He saw the wide smile you had, your laughter was echoing throughout the hall filled with the other agents. Quickly you already finished the lap and had made your way back to Maria, but unfortunately you didn’t exactly know how to stop, so as Shadow had slowed down you still held a generally fast speed. Too fast actually, causing you to trip and fall face first; thankfully the fast hedgehog was able to grab you and hold you up before you fell and ate concrete.

Maria ran over to check and make sure you were okay, feeling guilt if she somehow made you upset from almost falling. As you stood up, you turned back to look at the two, your extremely wide smile shocking them both, it was almost contagious as Maria started to smile and laugh and Shadow breathed a sigh of relief but you could see the small twitch in his lips making them quirk up.

Suddenly you heard your name coming from beside you, turning you saw your mom as well as her boss Professor Gerald Robotnik looking at the three of you, “I thought I told you to stay put!” Her expression wasn’t one of anger, more a mix of stress and lack of sleep.

“Mom! I’m sorry I just met Maria and Shadow and they’re really fun and I thought it was okay, we didn’t cause any trouble-“ You started to ramble feeling immense guilt for betraying your own mother, but you were suddenly cut off.

“Now now, I think it’s quite alright, you see Maria is my granddaughter, and I trust her and your child doesn’t seem bad” The professor interrupted and explained to your mother, “I actually think it’s good for the kids to hangout and get along” he advocated for you.

All three of you nodded your head, even Shadow was agreeing! Your mom reluctantly nodded her head, agreeing that he was right.

And so you came daily, until your mom had to start working 24/7 and so Gerald let you stay in Maria’s room, even getting you guys a bunk bed. It was nice, the three of you became like the three musketeers, you’d never see each other alone anymore.

Sometimes Maria would play music and you three would all dance and jump around together. At some point you even got your own pair of skates so that you three could race, although Shadow always won.

Life was fun, everyday was like an endless sleepover, sometimes the three of you would sneak out and watch the stars, even falling asleep under the moonlight. It wasn’t bad, not at all.

These were the best days of your life, just you and your two best friends.

[hello-gloomy]

Can we get one with reader who was Senkus science teacher. Maybe she tried out to be a NASA scientist but decided to become a teacher instead and that's how she met Senku. Xeno meets reader and recognising them from NASA. But she has no clue who he is as they had only a brief meeting once.

Lol I'm gonna use this as an opportunity to socially torture Xeno. Sorry this took a bit to answer and I apologize if it's short.

-------------------

I'm Sorry Who?

Xeno x Fem!reader

Description: A fellow scientist from the past recognizes you, but you don't recognize him. Chaos ensues.

Warnings: pitiful Xeno, cursing, sex joke at the end, kind of creep Xeno in readers perspective lol.

A/N: I love pathetic Xeno, like my fave genre of man

Words: 627

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Senku and the rest of his gaggle were finishing negotiations in the castle with the American colony, and you decided to stay on the ship to finish up with some new weaponry for the boat. You were drawing up plans to fit on classic cannons or hand-held harpoons for the crew to practice and use. You heard the door open behind you but decided not to turn around as it was probably just Suika or Chrome looking for something or wanting to find a new experiment to entertain themselves with.

"Quite the elegant schematic, Ms. (Last Name)." A Southern-sounding voice said a foot beside you; you screw up your face at the interruption to your work and shoot a nasty glare to your interrupter. You give him a once-over and continue to side-eye him while turning back to pretend to continue to work. You give him an uninterested hum and try to remember where he's from, as he knows you. You're hoping he's not some weird coworker from the old world. That is the last thing you want to deal with right now.

"Shouldn't you have supervision with you to be down here." You tell him harshly, and the sparkle in his eyes drops slightly at your cold tone. He clears his throat and moves out of your way when you get up, moving to grab more paper and start the following blueprints.

"Ah-Senku thought it would be alright for me to come down here alone as a testament to good faith." He tells you, letting the last part fall quietly from his lips, hoping not to upset you further. You roll your eyes and shove out another chair for him to sit at before returning to your own. He watches you quietly, and it gets unnerving having his void-like eyes watching your every movement. It ends up being enough for you, and you drop your pencil with a loud sigh and turn to face him.

"Do I know you?" you ask him curtly. He bites his bottom lip slightly and then responds.

"You were one of the main speech holders for the annual NASA expo in Texas in 2020." He tells you while rubbing his clawed hands together.

"Still not ringing a bell, I worked at NASA for a year or two, maybe, and it was horrible, so I just took a job opportunity in Japan." You inform, your lips forming into a thin line. You're starting to feel bad; he seemed happy to see you, and you didn't even recognize him. He looks like he should be recognizable, with pretty black puppy eyes, pale skin, and snow-white hair. He was cute to look at; you sigh and rub your head before deciding.

"How about we start fresh? I'm (Name) (Last Name). You are?" You ask him a bit more gently this time. His shoulders drop, relaxing, and he smiles slightly at you, taking your hand and kissing it before telling you his name.

"Xeno Houston Wingfield." The two of you spend the latter half of the day conversing and sharing your stories of your shared time at NASA. He asks about your time in Japan, and you tell him of how you met and taught Senku and how you have been with him since he broke out of stone.

"Hey, Teach, it's time for lunch. You gonna eat or-" Senku interrupts the two of you, and Xeno backs away from you as subtly as he can; Senku makes a face at you both, and you brush him off, getting up to go and eat.

"We can eat here, Doc; I'll grab us both plates. You can stay here, and I'll be back." The door shuts, and the room is silent.

"Don't fuck my teacher, bro."

"Senku!"

[capseycartwright]

i know it’s not an island for one

Mel wouldn’t say she was keeping an eye on Langdon, exactly. That was the sort of thing that could be easily misinterpreted by the gaggle of gossips she worked with in the pit, and she wouldn’t want that.

No, she was monitoring him – in a very scientific sort of way, thank you very much, because she was a scientist at heart, and she had very scientific, medically driven reasons for glancing across the ED every now and then, seeking Langdon out amongst the chaos of their day-to-day.

ao3 link

Mel wouldn’t say she was keeping an eye on Langdon, exactly. That was the sort of thing that could be easily misinterpreted by the gaggle of gossips she worked with in the pit , and she wouldn’t want that. No, she was monitoring him – in a very scientific sort of way, thank you very much, because she was a scientist at heart, and she had very scientific, medically driven reasons for glancing across the ED every now and then, seeking Langdon out amongst the chaos of their day-to-day.

His first day back had been crazy. Mel wasn’t entirely sure why HR, and Dr. Robby, had signed off on Langdon making his grand return to the emergency department at PTMC on the Fourth of July, one of the worst days of the year to be an emergency medicine practitioner, but they did, and so Langdon had returned post-rehab to fireworks, third-degree burns and a very memorable placement of a pair of barbecue tongs she’d rather not relive the removal of.

Mel remembered the moment he walked back into the ED. She’d seen him plenty, over the months he’d been off, and in rehab, visiting with a stack of books and journals, wanting to do her bit in helping his recovery. They’d connected, that first day in the pit, and so Mel had wanted to keep that connection going, selfishly.

He didn’t look all that different – and maybe that was because she’d seen him twice a month while he was in an in-patient facility, and even more regularly after that, because she’d overheard Princess and Perlah discussing the fact he’d put weight on (Mel had barely restrained herself from reminding her colleagues that weight gain was a normal side effect of getting sober, because she hadn’t been sure that Frank would appreciate her intervention on that on) – but he’d still looked like Frank : bright blue eyes (though a little less bright, if you asked her less-than expert opinion), the floppy boyband hair Dana still teased him for, a pale white line on his finger where his wedding ring used to be, a new bracelet from Millie on his left wrist, and that same aura of confidence she’d come to expect after that one singular day she’d worked with him in the pit.

Now, Mel did not proclaim to be an expert on Frank Langdon – but she wasn’t convinced his confidence was all that sincere. The others didn’t seem to share her concerns, which only made Mel more concerned. She was an incredibly empathetic person, you see, and while it had its downsides, it did mean she was good at being in tune with people’s emotions, and she thought it was quite easy to notice that Frank was not doing as well as he pretended he was.

She didn’t mention it to anyone. Mel knew for sure that was something Frank wouldn’t appreciate her intervention on – but it didn’t stop her from monitoring, taking note of the days where he looked a little more tired, dark circles under his eyes deep set. On days like that, Mel tended to be the one to press a coffee into Frank’s waiting hands, be the one to encourage him to take a break – he was still her senior, only six months behind on his programme, but that didn’t mean it was inappropriate for her to want to look out for him.

They were friends, now.

Frank had reassured her of that one day at the dog park, Becca having taken charge of Nugget (full name Chicken Nugget, named by Tanner and Millie and indulged by Frank) and his afternoon walk, stomping around the park with a purpose as Mel and Frank had sat, and drank their respective teas. Caffeine free, because Frank wasn’t trying to replace one addiction with another, limiting his coffee intake, happy to be guided by Mel’s long list of herbal recommendations.

She liked feeling like she was helping.

Addiction was a lonely illness. That was a fact – one she’d learned in medical school, but one she’d learned over and over in the years since she’d started her in-hospital education, and one she’d certainly learned with Frank. Addicts tend to isolate themselves to hide their addiction, and so when they are trying to get sober, they tend to end up feeling very alone, because they’ve pushed a lot of their closest friends and family away.

Mel didn’t like the thought of Frank being lonely, and maybe she tried to be a little too present in his life to compensate for that, but she didn’t regret it. Frank needed a friend – more than one, really, but Mel could be a starting point, she figured.

Frank wasn’t the most open, about his recovery – he’d cracked a few jokes, made a few surface-level admissions to Mel, but she didn’t know how he was actually doing, not really. He hadn’t even talked about the divorce, offered no explanation for what was happening when he came to work without a wedding ring for the first time.

Mel wasn’t even sure if he was getting divorced, or if it was a separation – though one largely led to the other, she supposed.

She’d never call a day in the pit quiet, or calm, but Mel could admit they were in a bit of a lull moment, no major medical incidents incoming, most of the team occupied with their patients. Maybe that was what made it all the more obvious that Frank wasn’t doing well – or maybe she was just clued into her friend’s emotions – but either way, Mel noticed.

He’d tugged the curtain closed on his patient with shaking hands, Frank’s gaze trained to the floor as he tried to slip out of the pit without anyone noticing.

(Mel noticed. Mel noticed a lot of things.)

Quietly, carefully, Mel checked that Dana’s attention was elsewhere before she followed Frank, grateful she’d worn her less squeaky trainers that day as she tailed him out to the ambulance bay. His arms were folded tightly around himself, as though he was trying to hold himself together through force alone.

It sort of made her heart ache.

“Dr. Langdon?” Mel called out, not wanting to scare the other man when he was clearly upset. He didn’t respond, which worried her more. “Frank?” she tried. She rarely called him Frank to his face – it was always Dr. Langdon, or Langdon, especially at work. She was a little more willing to call him Frank outside of the pit, their burgeoning friendship feeling less fragile outside of their shared workplace, away from prying eyes and gossiping mouths . Calling him Frank felt like something sacred, and special – and Mel wasn’t entirely willing to figure out why that was the case.

Frank turned, and Mel immediately wanted to fold the man into a hug – she didn’t, because she respected consent and boundaries, thank you very much, but she could be forgiven for wanting to offer him a hug when he was crying, tears streaming down his cheeks, soaking into the material of his scrubs.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him cry before.

“Are you okay?” Mel asked softly. “Did something happen?”

Frank shook his head. “’M fine,” he mumbled, voice thick with tears. “I just needed a minute. I’m all good.”

“Langdon,” Mel chided gently. “You know it’s okay if you’re not all good, right?”

Frank gave her a confused look, which Mel decided was an invitation to step a little closer, pressing a hesitant hand to his elbow.

It’s not like they were particularly touchy-feely friends.

“You’ve been through a lot,” Mel reminded. “You don’t have to be okay all the time, Frank.”

Tears started to bubble at the corner of Franks eyes, and for a second, Mel was afraid she’d said the wrong thing. “I did all of this to myself,” he shook his head again. “I don’t – I don’t get to be upset about it, Mel.”

“Oh, Frank.” Mel’s stupid, annoying, overly empathetic heart ached in her chest. “You have to know that’s not true. I know for a fact that can’t be what your therapist is telling you – and if he is, I think you might need to find a new one,” she tried to joke, feeling oddly successful as a tiny smile tugged at Frank’s downturned expression.

“I just…” Frank paused, for a second. “It was the family, I had just now. The dad with the suspected heart attack.”

Mel waited for him to continue. Interrupting was never helpful.

“He’d been here for less than a half an hour when his family started pouring in – his three kids, a wife who clearly loves him. He’s got this picture-perfect, storybook family, and I was – I was jealous, Mel. I had all of that, and I got hooked on fucking benzos and ruined it all,” Frank scrubbed a hand over his face. “Things have been over, between Abby and I for a long time, and rehab was just the final straw, but I still – my kids aren’t going to have that storybook family now, and it’s my fault.”

“It takes two people to decide to end a marriage,” Mel reminded. She’d never been married, but she was certain a divorce required agreement between both parties. “And look – um – speaking from experience,” she took a long, slow breath. “Two separate happy homes are better than one unhappy home.”

There was a questioning look on Frank’s face, and he clearly wanted to ask her more – and maybe one day, Mel would want to tell him the whole sorry saga, but today didn’t feel like the day, and the ambulance bay didn’t feel like the place.

“I’m scared,” Frank was an empathetic man too, Mel knew, and so he realised she didn’t want to talk about it. “I’m scared I won’t be able to give them a happy home with me, Mel. What kind of dad can I be as a recovering addict?”

“A good one.”

Frank fixed her with a look. “I’m serious, Mel.”

“So am I,” Mel countered, shrugging slightly. “Your addiction isn’t some sort of moral failing – addiction is an illness, and one you’re getting help for. Being an addict isn’t your – well, it’s not your defining trait, is it? You are so much more than an addiction to benzodiazepines, Frank.”

Frank’s eyes were still watery, as he smiled, his blue eyes regaining a little of their former brightness. “I like it when you call me Frank.”

Mel felt her cheeks turn obnoxiously pink. She’d find time to be embarrassed about that later. “My point is,” she stressed, giving Frank’s elbow a more confident squeeze. Maybe they could be touchy feely friends. “You’re a good dad, from what I’ve seen. You’re doing all the right things – going to NA meetings, therapy.”

“Then why do I still feel so bad?” Frank sighed, pressing his palms into his eyes.

“Because,” Mel tugged at his wrists, not wanting Frank to hurt himself, even accidentally. She held his wrists tightly, fixing him with a serious look. “Life is kind of shit sometimes.”

Frank’s snort of laughter surprised them both. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you swear, Mel King.”

Mel grinned. “I swear – I’m just a consummate professional, when I’m here.”

Frank’s smile seemed a bit more genuine. “Well then – thank you, for making an exception to your professionalism. I appreciate it,” he paused, for a second. “I’m sorry, for getting so upset over nothing.”

Mel frowned. “Your emotions aren’t nothing – they’re very valid.”

“You sound like my therapist.”

“Well, then maybe you should listen to him and stop discounting your own feelings ,” Mel prodded. “I meant it, Frank. It really is okay if you’re not all good. People want to see you succeed here. I want to see you succeed in here.”

“I can’t shake the fear that if I admit to everyone how much I’m struggling, I’ll just prove them all right – that I’m a good for nothing addict who doesn’t deserve to be here .”

Mel didn’t think anyone thought that, but maybe that was something to address another time. “I’m going to hug you, now,” she announced. Consent was important. She waited a second, to see if Frank would protest, but he didn’t. She wrapped her arms around him, breathing in the woody scent of the cologne he wore, the fresh scent of whatever shower gel he used lingering on his skin.

She felt him press his nose into the space between her chin, and shoulder, his hair tickling her skin. Mel found she didn’t mind, which was both unusual, and something to unpack later, when she was home, alone, breaking into the bottle of wine that had lived in the back of her fridge for weeks now. “You’re not good for nothing,” she hummed, rubbing slow circles across his back, the same way her dad used to when she was little, and she was upset. “I think you’re good for a lot of things, Frank Langdon.”

“Not good enough to stay married to,” Frank mumbled into her shoulder, and Mel’s stomach did something funny at the thought of Frank, and marriage, and happily ever after.

“I think you’ll make a great husband again one day,” Mel decided. “Abby just wasn’t the right person, in the end. You’ll find the right person.”

Frank’s arms tightened around her waist. “I don’t want to go back in,” he admitted.

Mel hummed, barely restraining herself from pressing a kiss to Frank’s hair. Another thing to unpack later. “We can stay out here for five more minutes, then.”

[hoardcloneheadcanons]

Stone & Robotnik's Gaggle of Robot Children P5

Stone begins to radicalize one scientist for his future project and is on his way to a second.

Dr. Keller looked Director Rockwell directly in the eyes.

 “At this point if anyone takes Agent Stone for me, I'm killing everyone in this entire office and then myself. I don’t care what he’d done before. I don’t care if he committed terrorist activity. He could have blown up a bus full of nuns and I’d keep him.”

First Chapter

Prev Chapter Next Chapter

Dr. Jamie Keller was a 54 year old woman, of short stature, with dark skin and a full figure.

And she was once again in Director Rockwell's office, asking for more staff.

The office hadn't changed much since Rockwell had taken over from Walters. There was a cardboard box, that had some tchotchkes, and a few photos put into it, and a few of Rockwell's medals had been displayed on a shelf. But otherwise, the room had remained the same, in the desk, carpet, and uncomfortably bright lights.

While Keller, did, to a degree, mourn the death of Walters, she had hoped thar maybe under new management, she might be able to get staff and resource requests filled out faster, or at all. She had two projects in the air, an experimental tank tread, and a high-speed submarine motor, and now they were asking for a retrofit to some old tunnels to create a delivery system between two bases.

"Look, I know I've gotten similar delivery systems designed before." Dr. Keller protested. "But I'm already working on two other projects. and I don't know much about the geotechnics, it'll require research. If you assign me a third and expect me to get it done within the year, I'm going to need more hands-on deck"

"I've considered that and picked someone out for you."

Director Rockwell opened a drawer in Walter's old desk, pulled out a thick manilla folder and slid it over to Dr. Keller.

Dr. Keller, for a brief, shining moment was excited that her request for was for once being fulfilled, and was delighted at the change of Directors before her eyes caught on a deeply concerning portion of text.

"Why does it say security risk?"

Her eyes glanced to the Top of the file to read "Agent [REDACTED] Stone.

The name clicked something in her mind, and she kept reading.

“It says he worked under Robotnik- he’s not-”

This is Doctor Ivo Robotnik, dedicating my final livestream to one very special henchman: Agent Stone.”

It had been broadcast in a message up in the sky. Dr. Keller had remembered that final transmission. It was bizarre. The Robotnik she'd seen in it had not looked like the man she briefly worked with, he looked staticky  and frayed, like someone had left him in the dryer far too long. 

"Yes… he is the  “Stone” mentioned in Robotnik's last transmission. We’re hoping to change his code-name if he ever gets cleared for field work again, but for now it’s better that everyone knows who he is"

" What was his relationship with the deceased?"

"Agent Stone was his personal assistant, bodyguard, and handler."

“Should he be working? That incident only happened a handful of months ago.”

“We did a psychological assessment on it and had him cleared for it. Apparently, the doctor was more attached to him than Stone was to him. Which is believable, Ivo Robotnik was a personality. Truth be told none of us suspected Ivo was capable of emotional connection”

“And we don’t trust Stone because...?”

“Because theoretically he was involved in two terrorist attacks.”

“Come again?” Dr. Keller was furiously flipping through the packet, trying to find the specific incidents Rockwell was talking about.

“The official of Statement of G.U.N. is that Ivo Robotnik was one of our operatives who diverted an attempt to destroy the world and chalking up his statement about “saving the world instead of ruling it” to his eccentricities. He made his transmission so public, we had to say something. Officially that was a successful mission completed by our the new branch of our agency, G.U.N. However- before that incident, Robotnik was caught defecting from the agency, attempting to destroy several of our operatives, as well as the entirety of a small town in Montana. And, in the case of the incident in which he saved the earth, we have neglected to mention that he was in the right time and place to do so because he was on the terrorist side.”

Director Rockwell rubbed her temples.

“We have eyewitness account and several records placing Stone at the location of the Montana incident, and we suspect he was involved in the second, however there was an alien artifact of unknown power that Agent Stone claims Robotnik used to control him- and we can’t confirm or deny his story either way. We were hoping you and your team could.”

"So this isn’t additional personnel this a fourth assignment."

"Yes. You and the agents already assigned to the project should be able to pick up anything out of the ordinary he does. We want you to see what he does when given access to a lab and report any suspicious activity. You, as a researcher, have been the most competent in training your agents, so they should be able to notice any incidents of sabotage. And your lab has the least amount of access to lethal technology.”

Inside, Dr. Keller boiled

"You sent me an email titled "fulfillment of additional personnel request" as an intro to this meeting." Dr. Keller said tersely.

She wanted to scream why would you give me hope?

"We were hoping to keep this under wraps. I know this is asking a lot of you, but we want him in a secure location in case Robotnik ever comes for his personal assistant again. And you're one of more stable and trusted scientists."

"Is he not confirmed dead?"

"We would like him to be. And in the meantime it would be really helpful if you and your team could convince him to give up the activation codes for Dr. Robotniks military drones as we currently have a chunk of them in a warehouse as Uncle Sam's fanciest paperweights."

"So just to be clear- we are working under the assumption that he was possibly involved in two terrorist incidents. And you want to compromise the security of my lab for a psy-op mission?”

“Correct. Your agents should be qualified for that. I’ve traced your work. I’ve seen you do more with less. You’re only required one project with him. If he becomes an active threat, report him and we will put him in a cell. But we suspect you have the resources for this. If you can accomplish this, we can get you access to more assistants and open up funding for your mech-suit proposal.”

That was tempting, she’d been trying to get that project funding for the past 4 years. But this was so much, her lab was her comfort and familiarity, she’d didn’t like the idea of bringing someone unsafe into it.

"Please, we need you for this."

She crumbled, Her smile was weak, and she gave a resigned, “Fine.”

“Great.”

..........................................................................................................................

Dr. Keller stayed up late reading the packet on Agent Stone trying to get an impression of him. She’d worked with Robotnik before, but she didn’t remember Agent Stone well. Robotnik sucked the attention out of a room, and all she had of Agent Stone was a vague impression of a man with a beard in the background on a laptop, presumably doing paperwork. Most of her memory was filled with the arguments she’d get in with Robotnik.

The packet filled with different accounts about him from different field agents. Supposedly there were three different versions of Stone.

There was the one in training, that followed every order to a tee, but had no one close he socialized with, most often described as reserved.

There was the one when he was a field Agent operative, who by account was a nightmare to work with. He was critical of other agents and cold. Often complained about a lack of professionalism and standards in the people he worked with. He had tendency to go off on his own during missions to quickly get things done.

They’d put him with Robotnik in an attempt to teach him a lesson, put him up against someone just as unpleasant as he was, and give him a taste of his own medicine. Robotnik chewed through Agents. They expected him to request a transfer within a matter of weeks and come out more appreciative of his fellow agents.

Instead all complaints of his behavior ceased. Dr. Robotnik had no complaints about Agent Stone’s behavior, and Agent Stone had no complaints about Dr. Robotnik’s. Dr. Robotnik filed for Stone to have an extended stay in his lab 3 months in.

In fact, other Agents reported that Stone suddenly became easier to work with. He could actually make basic water-cooler conversation and smile. He was usually seen occupied with menial tasks. This was the third version of Agent Stone, who was described as amiable.

Dr. Keller couldn’t say which one was the real one. It could speak of two misanthropes bonding, or just one man who couldn’t stand field-work.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

She tried to ask her own agents to fill in the gaps the next morning. She didn’t get much of a clearer picture. Only one of them had interacted with him before, one agent Franklin, whose face contorted into a mask of exasperated confusion.

“I don’t know how to describe him. If you asked me at the time I would’ve said obnoxious and cruel, but that’s just because he was around Robotnik all the time, I don’t know how much of that he did himself. They were sort of a unit. I think I might have seen them separated once or twice? Agent Stone seemed nice enough then, a little overworked but nice. And Robotnik was easier to work with, when Agent Stone was there to bolster his ego.”

“Explain that last portion” Keller interjected.

“Oh he’d consistently praised him, we all thought it was how he kept in his good graces, and under a sort of control. But you could also hear Robotnik blowing up at him from the lab sometimes. Whatever they had- it wasn’t healthy.”

..............................................................................................................................

D-Day came. 

It was a Tuesday. Stone showed up in her lab, bright and early, with a smile on his face, a suit ironed to perfection, and a tracker on his ankle.

It unnerved her. It wasn’t the smile of a grieving man, or even one who was upset over losing his charge.

The tracker was blinking red, It was meant to tell them when he left her lab. He was required to stay there every day, until his shift was over, after which he’d be escorted back to the room they were holding him in by two armed agents.

He was personable to everyone in the room, making sure to get their names, and their specialties, and figure out what tasks they were used to, so he knew who to ask questions of.

Dr. Keller kept her distance.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Day after day passed and the only version of Stone they got was what she had dubbed “facility version” of Stone; polite and professional, happy to help.

According to Agent Stone, most of what he’d done with Robotnik had been paperwork; scheduling, expense reports, email, notes.

“Anything technical he tended to be… possessive about, I’m afraid I don’t have much experience in it. But he hated anything to do with people and I’m decent at it." He said sheepishly.

Which was disappointing. When she’d seen 10 years of lab experience on his file she’d hoped she'd be able to skip training him, but at least she wouldn’t have to review his work for sabotage.

They weren’t ready to trust him with important documentation, so instead they gave him the grunt work normally assigned to newbies: Keep the tables and tools cleaned research for alternative materials, hand people supplies as they need it. He did all of it expertly and complained about none of it.

Slowly, all the finicky, mind numbing tasks no one wanted flowed to him. He was growing into their lab like a vine wrapping around the filling in the cracks of a brick wall. It made her feel on edge.

A man he worked with for 10 years had died, He was a prisoner. This cheerfulness and productivity felt-off.

She asked one of her Agents about it, just to get a sanity check.

Agent Adelaid had shrugged.

“I think it’s reasonable to suspect he’s lying. It’s part of his training to be undercover for long periods of time. But also- if he was a field agent and a soldier before that then he’s experienced a lot of death. He might have grown used to it. A couple of months sounds like a fine enough mourning time to me.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Dr. Keller was always the first one to her lab.

Except today. Today, someone had gotten in early enough to leave muffins on her desk. Blueberry muffins.

The engine prototype they’d been working on was already hooked up to the lift, and every tool she and her team would need laid out on a central bench, every single one sparkling, except for the few wrenches that were by Agent Stone, grease already over his hands on he wiped them down.

Who’d let him early?

"I hope you don’t mind.” He said from the bench, head nodding towards the muffins I finally got access to the mess hall kitchens again and I took time to make them. Bribed my guards by giving them some of the batch. Can’t really make muffins two at a time. You seemed low energy these past couple of mornings, I know project is getting to close-out, I assumed you were skipping breakfasts.”

She was. These was most tempting muffins she’d ever seen, they were the ones with fat blueberries and a cinnamon-sugar crumble on top. Satan’s muffins. The kind you’d give up your first-born for. But she had to be professional

"You know I can't"

"I understand. I’m still a security risk. I’ll put them in the fridge for myself later. And hey- still got an early start to my task list, there’s worse ways to spend a morning."

There was an hour before she expected the first of her agents to show up, and she didn’t have time to waste worrying about Stone’s supposed security threat. She got through items 1-5 on her 50 item checklist before the silence in the room and the building, ever mounting curiosity got to her.

“What was it like?”

“Hm?” He looked up from his task.

“Working for him. Robotnik I mean.”

He raised his eyebrows and then made a face.

“Honestly, not great. Unreasonable hours. He was very demanding. I’m currently on house arrest here and I have more of a personal life and free time then I did the entire time I was working for him. And you’ve probably heard the stories about how could be verbally and physically aggressive.”

“Then why not request a transfer? Why work for him for so long?” Her voice was tenser, that didn’t seem right, not with everything she’d read.

He scoffed, “You think they would’ve taken it? I had already messed up my chances of being of field agent. They gave me to Robotnik as a last chance job. I couldn’t mess that up. I mean- he gestured to the blinking anklet, “If I’d known things could get worse, maybe I would’ve done it differently but this is still- better than being fired? I was raised in a military orphanage, and then started basic when I was 17. This is all I’ve ever known. I don’t… function terribly well in the civilian world.”

Oh. 

That felt like a missing puzzle piece. Why he seemed so cheerful and why it felt so fake. It was desperation of someone who was so sure they were seconds away from being gotten rid of. 

He’d had it while working for Robotnik and had it now. He’d been obnoxious as a field agent and realized he could lose it all and overcompensated. And something itched at the back of her mind.

“You never complained about him, did you?”

“Of course not, they were never going to give me other opportunities if I couldn’t hack it as his assistant.”

They'd given him the worst job working with the most temperamental scientist and he hadn’t complained. He couldn't complain. He did his job and toed the line and stayed in his place.

And because he didn’t complain they'd assumed he'd been more loyal to the scientist than the government. His silent suffering had been mistaken for loyalty and after the mind control, he hadn’t had any evidence to contradict them because he had not complained. He'd kept his head down and done his job and it had still screwed him over. 

And boy- howdy did that sound familiar.

She’d done the same. She’d been nice, and smiled, and grabbed every opportunity that came her way, it was a teaching her mother and father drilled into her.

She'd been raised to put the chairs away when meetings were done and to participate in the christmas pagenst, and to cook a meal for potluck and when guests came over. She'd been raised to do every extra-credit assignment, and possible club and internship and never complain.

And throughout her 20s and 30s It had served her. She’d gotten opportunities. Her friendly demeanor and charisma had gotten her many opportunities over-her mech engineering counterparts who- truly had not learned to socialize. She’d worked on race cars and mag-lev trains. 

But then she got her second degree in aerodynamics and finally got the chance to work on jets for the U.S. military.

It was a dream. She did on deadline in half the time they expected. 

And then they cut her time in half for the next project and gave her an additional one to supervise. At first it felt like trust, but the work kept piling on, and every time she did well it was an excuse to give her more, to push her further. Her social life had suffered, and she’d slept less. But she’d been well respected.

And given every shit job they could find for her, and ignored her proposals because she smiled, and didn’t complain, and did it on time. She was 54 and she, and this growing, piling pressure were getting old.

And staring at him, sitting on the bench, wiping down wrenches early in the morning with a tracker on his ankle she felt a viscous pang of familiarity.

She coughed, “The guards that were with you, did they watch you make them?- the muffins I mean.”

He smiled, “Of course, do you think they would’ve eaten them if they didn’t?”

She nodded, “I’ll check in with them, when they come back later. I’d appreciate if you could make a second batch tomorrow.”

“Happy to, Ma’am.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The muffins were goddamn delicious.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Keller started loosening up the restrictions on him and let him do the paperwork. He'd been there for a couple of months, and they hadn’t seen any sign of trouble. This was getting ridiculous.

In return, the expense reports were filled out immaculately, every i dotted, t crossed, and carefully itemized lists were created without a single error.

Suppliers were responding to them faster, because they recognized him from when he worked with Robotnik and they had an ongoing relationship with him, and there were less meetings.

She asked him about it after a week of being able to work on tank-treads without any interruptions from higher ups. He was masterful at giving them the runaround, and insisting on meeting notes provided in e-mail rather than attendance, or in answering the questions they would have asked her in a review. 

There was even one instance in which a commander was going to give her another assignment, and he’d responded by inventing a form for the general to fill out that would explain why his project should take priority over the other three they were doing.

He hadn’t called back.

And in the meantime, Keller slept reasonable amounts. She was able to go home every night and take relaxing bubble-baths and pet her cat instead of just flopping into bed for a fitful six hours and getting up and doing it all over again. She was able to dismiss some of her Agents at the end of their eight-hour shifts. For the first time since she started working for the Agency she felt like she could breathe.

And there were more muffins.  They weren’t always blueberry, sometimes they were chocolate chip or orange zest. And they were all good. She’d gained a couple of pounds just by letting him exist in her lab, and he’d started making enough for the other agents to steal.

After all, they had to make sure Agent Stone wasn’t poisoning her. Really, they were doing their job, by taking one first.

The final straw in her being able to say no to him was the new printer and the coffee machine.

He’d noticed one of their projects was running under budget again, and to avoid their resources getting cut he ordered a new printer to replace the janky one that chewed up paper and refused to take requests from half the computers in the lab.

And he'd gotten a brand new, shiny, state-of-the art coffee machine. One that came with reusable k-cups, a milk frother, and several bags of imported coffee roasts, and tea blends.

She doubted him when she first saw it.

“I mean, this is nice, but there’s other things we could’ve spent the money on. We have a coffee machine in the mess hall and in the break-room.”

“This is good coffee,” He said, in the darkest tone she’d heard off him so far.

He’d been right. She’d gotten used to making herself little ice-chai lattes with it, and trying some of the flavored coffees he'd brought with it. She’d gotten hooked. She simply couldn’t go back to Folgers.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Eventually she had to have a review with Director Rockwell about “the security risk”.

Rockwell brought her to her metal clad office and asked how Agent Stone’s behavior had been.

“He’s been fantastic. I have no complaints about him, or doubts of his loyalty to the Agency.”

“Then I assume you’ve had progress in getting the drone’s access codes?”

“Absolutely not. It hasn’t been on my top priority list. I was busy. And from the limited amount I heard from Stone, he wouldn’t know about them. He didn’t do any technical work with Robotnik.”

“The creations Robotnik made require more labor than one man in his sixties is capable of and Agent Stone is one of the few Agents who was in his lab for extended periods of time. That is highly unlikely.”

“But it’s consistent with what my Agents have already told you, right?”

Rockwell’s face didn’t move. 

Keller didn’t need it to, she knew.

“Director Rockwell let me be clear, despite his lack of technical know-how Agent Stone has made himself indispensable to my team.  I've had multiple weeks of uninterrupted productivity and no surprise inspections or pop-up meetings. The morale of my team is up. And he seems to be making steps to close the knowledge gap. He’d been studying propulsion systems and aerodynamics in his free time.”

And maybe it was the good coffee and sugar in her veins, but Keller kept going.

She looked Director Rockwell directly in her eyes.

 “At this point if anyone takes Agent Stone for me, I'm killing everyone in this entire office and then myself. I don’t care if he did commit the terrorist acts with Robotnik. Frankly he would have to blow up a bus full of nuns in front of my face before I would consider getting rid of him.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Stone could trust a few things.

He could trust people to consistently underestimate him. He could trust people to believe lies when he repeated close approximations of their life stories back to them.

And he could trust his guards to be heatedly debating whether the coach or the players indicated the victory of a football team every morning as he walked to Dr. Keller’s lab. Their arguments reached a fever-pitch between 7:13 and 7:25.

So it was really no trouble for him to pick the right time to stick a note at the bottom of his shoe, and with a practiced motion, slide it underneath a lab door, for a Dr. Jeffers involved in the study of aliens and biomimicry.

“Meet me at Dr. Keller’s lab tomorrow if you want to get your grants funded.”

[ramons-elevator]

QSMP shift schedules to me:

Morning shift: FitMC and his gaggle of scientists with occasionally The French (said French might also be a scientist) and also Philza is there

Afternoon/Evening shift: Dear god they just wanna build why do you give them all the lore?? They just wanna fucking build???

Late Night shift: The Girlies chatting, testing out stuff, and doing dumb pranks

(Author’s note: Yes the Girlies include anyone on at that hour, especially Badboyhalo and Foolish_Gamers)

[hurgablurg]

mkay BIG theory about whatss going on in deltajune

dess is the knight, something in the shelter corrupted her like mephisto's soulstone in travincal, and whatever happened, kris was present for it - and it traumatized them

kris is the only one who knows what happened, and they are in on at least one conspiracy, probably two, to alleviate their guilt and horror of it

the first is with carol - kris and her are working together to preventing anyone else from fucking with the shelter and suffering the same fate or tarnishing dess' memory (which is why dess's room is kept pristine and she's so defensive about the guitar - she's a bitch, and probably homophobic, and DEFINITELY classist, and also maybe probably racist given that she and rudy are both reindeer monsters, and her only friends are both boss/goat monsters in matrimony which could point to her having a vested interest in "keeping it within the species" (though this is a GIANT leap on my part) BUT she is also a grieving mother who probably hates herself for letting dess disappear and "letting" dess become the "kind of person" who might disappear. The Town Hall, the Police, and the Church (golly, funny how that works, huh?) are all working together to keep the shelter officially sealed, while carol has kris run interference against the more young and roguish elements of the town, (the gaggle of teenagers daring each other to try to enter the evil hole) appealing to their sense of guilt to keep them in line - likely not maliciously, mind. she thinks she's doing them a kindness letting them work to protect others.

the second is with dess, the knight, herself - she wants to bust the shelter wide open, but can only exist in a limited form outside of a dark world - kirs, feeling guilt for her condition, was contacted (maybe through catti's demon summong shit) works with her to cover the world in darkness, so that she can actually survive leaving it...

and works AGAINST HER at the same time, playing both sides of a conflict the player is unaware of, balancing both agendas to meet them in the middle and maintain an uneasy status quo, probably at leasst until azzy can come home - their assumption is that he'll know what to do. he always has.

we, the SOUL, are a third party, making it a lot more difficult for them. on top being an invasion of their privacy. how kris lost their own soul is another issue entirely (did catti's rituals summon dess and their soul was the trade for "possibly getting her back"? did it summon gaster? did it summon us?), but we're in there, messing things up, and it cannot be comfortable to, as flowey once put it, "feel them wriggling".

(also dess totally wrote Raise Up Your Bat, right? it's melodically banging but the lyrics are amateurish - teen stuff tbh)

gaster, I honestly think at this point, is a passive observer. gaster hasn't done much of anything, the only warnings we receive about him are caked in conspiracy, and it turns out he wasn't the one to discard the vessel at the start. I think he IS still being a scientist, letting things play out and seeing what WE, his experiment will do given marginal control over kris, such a lynchpin element of the story.

also sans is fucking their mom

[melkyt]

Law exhausted after losing everything yet again, his quest brought to an end after he tried so hard, its a miracle he and bepo survived, miracle that there are some of his crew that find their way back, they are all survivors but it was to close. He can't take losing them aswell. The ship was a home, but this his family, and they can build another home as long as they are alive.

So he stops on a nameless island, makes it his, a city forms around them. He welcomes any who need it, tells Luffy and other pirates about it, those that are tired of the journey like him

So he becomes surrounded by those that survived and those that also decided to stop, those that support Luffy in his goal, if only in thought after they part ways. Alot of scientists from egghead, others, those too exhausted to go on, or those that just need to take a pause before they keep going. He does not invite the violent or cruel, only those fighting for a better future for their world. Those who respect history and bring him knowledge.

Soon, it spreads that you can go to the island, tell a story that the leader will record, and you will be welcome to a bed, a meal and a safe place. Law settles about learning about the world that way. Sometimes, he travels but prefers the solid shores of his island. Along with the scientists, they work on making an artificial island/ship to survive in the future flooding world.

Years and years spent on this project. He keeps up with Luffy, hears all about him reaching laughtale, smiles when the world explodes with the news that Luffy is the king of the pirates. They have talked over the years when Luffy was sending someone their way.

As well as on occasions when he needed Law to go somewhere where people would need a doctors help. Would need help in the aftermath of Luffy flipping their world upside down. Law always went. He may have put adventure behind him, but he will always help people. He will always come when Luffy calls, just the same as Luffy will always come if Law calls.

Luffy travels for maybe a decade after becoming pirate king, but finds himself stopping more often in Law's city. Staying longer, as they talk about everything Luffy found, talk about what Law has been up to.

There is always a gaggle of kids running around as there are still plenty of orphans on the sea, those that need a home. Those that Luffy brings as he doesn't want anyone to ever go through the same thing as his crew did in their childhoods.

They dont notice when but somehow they adopt two kids, a youngling that reminds Luffy of Ace, down to the freckles, and another that has a smile that reminds Law of the vague memory of his little sister. More reasons for Luffy to stay longer with every visit.

In time, Luffy moves in, training and teaching the next generation of sea-farers how to survive and how to have fun.

It's a peaceful life in their old age. It is the center of the new world and age that came after Luffy became King.

Law is amused and glad that he built a place that even someone like Luffy could consider settling down in, even if the sea will never stop calling him for adventure. This is still home.

One they built together, one they raised children in.

The King of the Pirates and the Doctor who would have been lost to history. Fade into nothing if he had not stopped and looked around. If he did not decide that he wants more to life then constant loss.

[undertale-fic-librarby]

do u know any gaster x reader fics nonexplicit thx

Howdy, thanks for asking! Here are some fics that might fit what you're looking for!

Souls Therapy by Fancyfandomlife (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

Human Souls are all different colours. Everyone expresses themselves differently. Can you Assist Doctor W.D. Gaster in his endevour, or will things go sideways? AFAB-NB Reader insert. I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVING MY WORK USED TO TEACH AI MODELS 🚫AI🚫

So I Think You've Got the Wrong Number by WatteauYouDoing (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

You're a magician, and a human one, besides, so the world works a lot differently for you. So differently, in fact, that after a particularly odd phone call, you end up deciding to do the impossible - saving a man who has been cast out of reality itself. You'll do it because you can. You'll do it because he needs you. And - maybe, you'll do it to be a hero.

The Faults in Our Souls by T3chn0 (General Audiences, Complete)

When your world is flipped upside down, there's not much you can do but to hold on to what you can grasp. Even if that something is a gaggle of skeletons.

Irrefutably Yours by orphan_account (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

A series detailing your blossoming relationship with everyone's favorite former royal scientist.

Chasing colors of the Future by Witchcraftandwine (Teen And Up, Incomplete)

Even before the Monsters returned she knew something was different about her, when they came back her dreams took better shape, paintings came faster fresher and even in the light of day images came to her needing to be brought out. However when a Father requests she do paintings for his two young sons She could never expect the images she’d see from him.

[sga-mcshep-4ever]

"We need backup! They're coming at us!" "What?" "Where are they?" "Down this corridor." "We're on our way!" "Johnson. Johnson, are you okay?" "McKay, he's dead." "Johnson, what happened here?" "They got him." "Who got him? Calm down. There's nothing here."

[kit-screams-into-the-future]

Hi! I just wanted to say that I love your BTTF art and your weredoc AU! It's so whimsical and engaging!

I wanted to know--if you ever thought about it--how did Doc and Marty meet? I've always imagined it as somewhat of a random meeting where little Marty is like 'you blow stuff up? Cool, I'm in!' And then Doc is suddenly a father figure, hehe I want to know what you think! :)

oh thank you! i'm glad you think so :D

how i think doc and marty met is probably the most accepted one of marty breaking into his garage one day bc i think it's funny hahaha. specifically the version where needles and co dare him to break in and steal something bc i don't think marty would just break into a guy's house out of pure curiosity, even if said guy is the town mad scientist. i like to think that they waited until doc left the house to walk einie and needles and co told marty that they'll tell him to get out if they see him coming back, but when he actually came back they all chickened out and left marty to dry LMAO. so doc comes back, sees a gaggle of middle schoolers very inconspicuously hightail it off his property, and walks in thinking he's done with trespassers for the day only to find another one hiding in his closet afraid that he's going to get dissected or something, and usually when kids break into his house (a non-zero occurence, unfortunately) he plays into the mad scientist bit and yes-ands the rumors about him until they leave, but marty immediately started apologizing and explaining that it wasn't even his idea and looked to be on the verge of tears so doc just ended up feeling bad for the kid and offered him a job walking einie instead. and they've been hanging out ever since :D

[eerna]

Its so insane to think about the last episode from Gemma's pov: they give you the outfit that you wore on the day you died. Then you're entering the room that was previously unnamed wearing those clothes. Then you open your eyes and there is your husband: covered in blood and looking like a mess. He then covers your entire face with kisses and holds you like you hung the moon. Then you run away together and enter the elevator and kiss like theres no tomorrow. THEN YOU WAKE UP ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR TO SEE YOUR HUSBANDS ALTER EGO RUNNING AWAY WITH ANOTHER WOMAN WHILE YOURE BEGGING FOR HIM TO COME BACK.

Thats so crazy I cant wait to see how they handle Gemma in the next season. Because she's definitely gonna try to get outie Mark out, right? So, main character Gemma time?? God I hope so

CRAZY IT WAS CRAAAAZYYY Gemma as MC in s3 please please please! She has a chip inside her brain that can instantly turn her into 25 (26?) malleable innies. It will be on a gaggle of rogue scientists to keep her alive and safe. And she can plan how to take Lumon down in the meantime. Banger!

[igotabonerwatchingthesepangkick]

Tin Drum Confessions

Ao3

Three men, the ones who watched the drums open hunt for whoever is hiding the bodies inside. Valentino and Uccio, run a private investigation company, hoping to end what had been started years ago.

Chapter one.

The office was quiet, filing cabinets locked closed as the sun filtered in. Rossi, Salucci and Co would not open for a few hours, but staff began trickling in. The private detective agency consisted of a small team. Valentino and his childhood companion Uccio had started the agency, a childrens game now their career. The other staff included Valentino's brother Luca and a gaggle of ex-targets that became more than interested in the agency. They also employed two accountants, Gigi and Davide. Both older men working around the coffee machine more than their desks. Uccio managed the case intake, helped by Mig on days the paperwork would pile up. Nobody remembers when or why the moniker was given to the company, but to the locals, Rossi, Salucci and Co was called the Academy.

It made no sense from an outsiders point of view. Why was a Private Investigation company dealing with the homicide occuring in the area. Nobody really knows when the academy took over. Technically they were in a 'joint-task force' with the police, Davide and Gigi on the police's payroll. The story the police told was that due to the influx of criminal activity they required outside help. The words hung in the air, not really settling in the ears of those who listened. Everyone knew that the station was blaming the mafia for their inability to deal with everyday policing. Valentino hated how easily people threw the mafia around to justify their actions. They hadn't seen lives destroyed.

They hadnt been the ones who found Marc.

Vale looked out the corner of his eye, the memory so strong he could see Sete gagging beside him. The body was barely recogniseable, the smell burning into their noses. A tourist, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. By sheer luck Valentino managed to name the victim, a young man by the name of Marc Marquez. They still had no motive behind the attack, everyone assuming the Spaniard had crossed them unknowingly. He shook his head, trying to get the gagged body out of his mind.

There were perks of working so closely with the police, Vale was able to gentle nudge them into hiring Luca as a forensic scientist. It was nepotism but the previous owner of the job, Joan, was incompetent. The man couldn't tell stab wounds from the exit holes left by bullets. Bez and Mig could solve their cases with their unorthodox methods without the looming fear of arrests. It was freeing, the unspoken immunity that Rossi, Salucci and Co had. Well, the detectives, Gigi and Davide were classified as civilians, number crunchers and nothing else.

Life was easy, potential cases would get processed by Uccio. Many of them send by the police commissioner. Alex was a strange fellow, away from home with nobody by him. Vale didn't trust him, his 6th sense screaming that something was wrong. The alarm bells went off in his mind when Alex introduced himself. The pause before he said his last name, Rins, the subtle pause as if Alex was reminding himself. His transfer to the post was done overnight. His predecessor, a strange Frenchman named Fabio, had abandoned his life in Italy. A note was found in his home, stating he had left everything to return to his sick mother.

Piles of manila folders lined the walls of Uccio's office. One by one, each member would claim a file as theirs. Then, if needed, they would pair up, similar cases put together to solve faster. Mig and Bez were no longer able to partner up. The last time they did, an easy money laundering case, ended up with two breakups (technically three), one relationship restarted, a stolen car and one kidnapped son reunited with his brother on accident. Davide and Gigi had spent the next day bouncing between the office and meetings with the police commissioner, trying to justify the stolen car and property damage

Vale took the worst cases, the ones that Uccio hid in the locked filing cabinets. The ones that he refused to discuss over dinner. The academy boys joked that he did this to slack off and annoy Luca at work. Uccio knew why, he remembered the days when they couldnt sleep. The police bootcamp that went wrong. The year that only had three graduates, the rest of the class dropping out. Valentino, Uccio and Sete had somehow stayed in touch via letters. It was a running joke that neither Vale or Sete trusted technology. After graduation, the trio split into their new paths. Uccio and Valentino started their private investigation service. Sete Gibernau settled into a comfortable role as a detective. He was the academy's man on the inside, the one man in the force that they believed was just corrupt enough to help them. Occasionally, Sete would send Valentino a case, a cold case with no leads. Vale would joke that this was Sete getting rid of the boring cases. But the trio knew what this really was. These cases were all interconnected, puzzle pieces in the larger mystery that was the tin drum murders.

Valentino unlocked the front door, a coffee in one hand as he stepped inside. He swooped down, collecting letters that had been posted before making his way to Uccio's office. He sat down in the worn leather seat, letting the sunlights warmth cover his face. "Get out my seat or I'll kick you." Uccio said with no intention to act on the threat. Vale grunted, handing his friend the coffee. He began sifting through the letters, piling the bills up to put on Gigi's desk. Valentino paused three letters in, neat handwriting on the front of the envelope. He ripped it open, interested in what Sete had sent him this time. The letter was short, half a page long and to the point.

Vale.

A journalist, missing for three days. No clue on last whereabouts. Foreign (not sure where). Tell Uccio to look at his computer when you do a house search. No clue if true, but many say he was researching the murders.

Sete

Uccio knocked his knee against Valentino's. "Body?" He asked, hands in his pocket, pulling out a notepad and pen. Valentino shook his head, "missing journalists. Lived here for no idea how long. Sete says you should check his computer. " Uccio nodded, scribbling notes. The sound of a mug shattering broke the silence. Valentino put his head in his hands as Franky popped his head into the office. "Sorry boss, Pecco dropped the mug." Pecco poked his head above Franky's. "Bez broke it, but dont worry it was just the green mug Davide uses." Valentino yanked on his own hair, contemplating firing his staff. He stood up, collecting the bills and walking out into the main area.

Valentino tucked the bills into the collection tray on Gigi's desk, putting a note on Davide's about the mug. He turned, facing the four men he employed as Private Investigators. Pecco sat at his desk, picking his nails as Franky rolled joints with what looked like the weed he had been found at a previous crime scene. Vale vividly remembered Alex instructing Franky to hand over the bag to forensics. He shook his head, looking over at Bez and Mig, who were chucking grapes into each others open mouths.

Vale cleared his throat, all four pausing. "We have new cases, easy ones that can be done alone-" he shot a look at Bez who pouted. "-Uccio and I are following a lead, phones off silent and report back if anything changes." The four nodded as Vale stretched, patting Uccio on the back before he spoke. "- also please keep any receipts. Gigi will have our heads if he cannot organise the expenses. "

With the morning debrief complete, files were handed out, Valentino looking out the window as he waited for Uccio to grab his tools. A figure stood outside, sand blonde hair leaking out from under a red cap. Valentino tried looking at the person's face, a truck blocking his view. The truck passed and the figure had disappeared, as if they were never there.

[yb-cringe]

in love with the fact that morning crew has turned into fitmc and the gaggle of wild mad scientists