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swagmagussupreme · 1 year ago

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@whiterose-fans-blog White Rose Event, Day 2: Gundam/Mecha

(I, uh... got carried away with this one. Whoops. Hope this doesn't awaken anything in me [the thing is awake and thrashing {the thing is thinking robots/cyborgs/androids are hot}])

Warnings for body horror, I think. To be safe.

Word count: 5253

Ruby clambered into the mech with much less pomp and coolness than she did anything, but that did little to tame the roaring pound of her blood in her ears. She was magnified, electrified, extremely-freaking-happy-ified. Her nerves were frayed and exposed, the air in her lungs was aflame, and all for one incredible reason:

Today, she would have all her blood replaced with super-drugs and shove a finger-thick metal node into her spine. In other words, she would be a Pilot.

Her mech, a Lancer-class Haema built for speed and offense, was a thing of beauty, and she was beginning to have genuine worries about the trickle of attraction she felt towards its fast edges, its angular shoulders, and the furious triangular wedge of its head. The red upper coating of its paint looked supple and deep, aggressive, while the under-coat of silver shone beneath the arms and over the lower back's delicious curve like moonlight. And when it powered on, when the sharp eyes flashed white and the head split open like a dying spider in reverse, Ruby may have moaned.

So she toppled into the cockpit like a lovestruck fool, the snug fit of her bloodbag suddenly feeling stuffy as she reclined in the full-body seat. She tugged at the suit’s dark collar, which achieved nothing.

“You in?” came her sister’s voice over the interior speakers.

“Y-yeah!” Ruby stuttered in return, overcome with joy. When she realized her informality, she retried, “Uh, I mean, yes sir. Captain Yang. Sir.”

The woman in the speaker snorted. “Just S-L, Rubes. I'm not a Captain yet.”

“Oh, uh… right. Yeah. Sorry.”

“Nervous?”

This time, Ruby was the one to snort. “It's my first time in my Haema. What do you think?”

“Fair enough,” Yang commented, taking an audibly deep breath. “Alrighty, no time to waste, DLR’s gonna drop soon and we’ll be right in the fuck of it. You ready?”

Jitters awoke in Ruby’s stomach. She hadn't even noticed the carrier entering Divine Light Redistribution. Maybe that was why she was nervous. Probably. Yeah. She could almost believe that. “Psh, of course I'm ready.”

Her sister barked a harsh laugh over comms. “Sure,” she said, a worrying hint of rue in her tone. “Sure you are.”

Yang continued in a clinical tone: “This is C-Squad, ready to jack in.”

Another voice, so cold and professional Ruby wasn't sure it was even human, responded: “Affirmative, C-Squad approved to jack.”

Two thick cables dropped from the metal ceiling of the cockpit, dangling off to the side of Ruby’s chair— the neural jack and the transfusion cable— just begging to be installed. She obliged. Two mechanical arms rose from the chair to hold the sides of her head as Ruby slammed the neural jack into the nape of her neck, right through the port of her bloodbag. She bit her lip expectantly.

From the jack, four needles slammed deep into her neck, breaking through the limits of pain that Ruby had known, but that wasn't the main event— these were just sensory dampeners, poking deep to zap her nerves into a state that wouldn't have her dying of shock when the main interface node came in. Her neck tingled, numbing, heralding the node with blunt pressure. Ruby sucked in a breath.

The pressure disappeared as the node backed away, rearing up to slam its almost-blunt tip through her skin, through her muscles almost into the vertebrae. The thing in her neck felt huge, like someone had javelined her with a stick of rebar, but that wasn't even the worst to come. Shackles slammed around her wrists and ankles. She felt the node twist inside her, opening its cap. Blood leaked from her tortured lower lip.

Despite the immense anguish, even with the dampeners, Ruby had managed to keep her noise down to squeaks and heavy breathing, but the final step broke her silence. Uncountable nano-filaments wormed through flesh and bone, hungrily burrowing towards every nerve along her cervical vertrbrae. The invasion of her was maddening not only in its sheer pain— if not for the bloodbag covering her fingers, she would've clawed her fingernails off on the armrests— but also because of the growing sense of agonizing relief she felt. With each nerve interfaced, she became closer to the machine, which only made the pain of her meat seem more alien as every second passed, every shred of anguish a reminder that she was not at her prime. Even as her throat tore itself ragged with wailing, the corners of her lips tugged upwards. Soon, very soon, she would become one with the Haema.

All at once, the agony collapsed into nothing, and she knew it was done. Ruby had unified with the mech, her pain receptors were cut off completely, and even the memory of that suffering was vanishing into dust. Her shackles receded into the seat. Ruby sighed. Now, for the best part.

With practiced ease and a complete lack of worry, Ruby took the transfusion cable and slipped it into the port at the side of her neck. Tubes with razor-sharp tips slipped into her skin with ease, slotting directly into her carotid artery and jugular vein. There was no pain, but the process wasn't a mystery to the studied Pilot. Through the arterial tube came vitae, the saplike blood replacement compound brimming with nanomachines, vasodilators, anticoagulants, and synthesized cells with oxygen carrying capacity at least threefold superior to hemoglobin. The viscous liquid would surge through her, bulging her arteries against her skin, dilating them so much that the tiny vessels in her eyes would leak thick crimson tears. Every inferior blood cell would either be forced up her jugular to get sucked into the Haema or recycled by the vitae until the only thing circulating through Ruby was manmade super-juice. In short, it would make her into a hero.

Which was great because Ruby was born to be a hero, just like her mom was. The proof was literally in her genes— bloodcaller genes— she was made for vitae, and vitae was made for her. She was an offshoot of humanity born from that sanguine primordial soup, and she could utilize the blessed compound in ways no baseliner could. She was tapped into the vitae-amber heart of her Haema, her Haema was tapped into her own lifeblood, and the two of them could dance like figure skaters.

Ruby folded the control sticks forward into her armrests as soon as they popped up. She didn't need them; the mech knew what she wanted.

“Ruby? You good?”

The sound didn't come through a loudspeaker this time, it came directly into her ears as if Yang was physically with her. Her brain was jacked directly into their comms. “Never been better,” she breathed, feeling her voice in her own throat and the Haema’s. “You?”

Yang took a deep breath, sounding much less pleases than her sister. “Yeah. I'm good. Let's fuck this up.” After a pause, she added, “C-Squad, jacked in and ready to go."

“Confirmed, readings all-clear.” The voice pitched up, slightly impressed. “Phenomenal compatibility, Red.”

“Gracias,” Ruby said casually, stepping off the platform and feeling like she'd been reborn anew. She marveled at her hands, the red upper coat of her knuckles, the silver coat of her palms. “Holy crap.”

“Cut the chatter,” Yang chided, her own golden Haema stepping to Ruby’s side. Her movements were so… bulky. Mechanical. Joystick-controlled. Ruby couldn't help but pity her human sister.

“Uh, sorry,” Ruby apologized, willing her words through the chassis comms rather than the radio comms. “Keep forgetting this whole talking thing is a ‘we’ and not a ‘me’ now.”

Yang's eye-roll was audible. “Keep rubbin’ that in, why don'tcha.”

A mechanical voice wailed over the hangar: “EXITING DIVINE LIGHT REDISTRIBUTION, ENGAGING COMPELLED SPEED, COMMENCE IN T-MINUS TWENTY SECONDS;

“BLESSED BE YE FAITHFUL;

“HIS KINGDOM COME;

“HIS WILL BE DONE;

“KNOW HIS LOVE AND KNOW HIS FAITH, AND BE SHELTERED BY ALL THINGS;

“AVE DOMINUS;

“GODSPEED.”

“Ah-men!” Ruby cheered, pumping the giant metal fist of her Haema excitedly.

“Ay-men,” Yang said more plaintively, her own mech perfectly still, awaiting the hangar’s opening. Ruby came to her side.

“Uh, sis?” she asked. “You okay?”

Yang’s Haema twitched its arm a little, the Pilot within probably jolting against her controls. “Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Just…”

“POWER ASTERN, WAFTING COMPELLER DRIVES, ANCHOR WELL IN T-MINUS TEN SECONDS.

“INCOMING INCOMING INCOMING.”

A dull thump rattled the vessel, making Ruby stumble on her new, much taller legs. Yang righted her with a hand, perfectly still. Her chassis crackled with her voice.

“Ruby, we'll be okay.”

Ruby looked at her sister's Haema. It was boxier than her own, Bulwark-class, rigid and cubic with giant proportions that made Ruby's look like a ballerina, but she knew that Yang could probably pilot that thing better than she could, even as a bloodcaller. Such was dictated by Yang's experience, which she had in spades over her sister. In an attempt to reassure her, Ruby took the staff of her weapon from her back and held it in a stern, at-ready stance. “Of course we will,” Ruby decided. “You're the best there is, and I'm right behind ya.”

Yang snorted.

“ANCHOR WELL ESTABLISHED. HANGAR DOORS OPENING.”

“I'm alright,” Yang said humbly. “But you'll be the best. Just… don't try too hard, okay?”

Ruby blinked, which she felt in her Haema despite it not having eyelids, which was weird. “What?”

The hangar doors shot open in a blink. Yang shoved her out with one hand, and Ruby tumbled weightless into hell.

The battle was already well underway. They were just reinforcements meant to turn the tide. The carrier they'd taken was barely within the outer area of the battle, but it was already alight with long-range sabot fire and dazzling anti-countermeasure lasers, so Ruby got a dramatic view of her sister thrusting out of the open hangar amid a dramatic backdrop spectrum of lights and explosions. Her big golden box of a Haema flew straight towards the battle’s distant center, producing a pair of tower shields that she covered her front with.

“Fall in, Red,” Yang commanded sternly over the comms, her voice a crackle as the signal fought through the background radiation of nebular space. “P-formation.”

Ruby shook her head and willed her giant mechanical body to thrust, her vitae-enhanced senses drinking every minute detail of the battle. When she blinked, she felt thick crimson crawling down her cheeks, and when she breathed, she felt like she could drink the world.

Falling behind the cover of her sister's giant shields, she observed what she could.

The battle was mostly gun-against-gun, no boarding vessels or ramming ships visible amid the chaos, with the Divine Hierarchy's ships clustered like a star in the center, a ball of purifying fire and plasma that lashed out against the surrounding seculars and belligerents. The fleet of God's enemies was numerous, consisting of smaller vessels concentrating fire like flies on honey, with larger vessels fanning out along the outskirts and firing from range, proudly displaying their cowardice. Ruby snarled and shouldered her weapon, a custom-made lance that she'd been designing her whole life in anticipation of this.

“Easy, rookie,” Yang admonished. “Engagement path coming to you… now.”

Bright green dots lit up a track leading in towards the center of the conflict, then out.

“Huh? What is this, hit and run?” Ruby complained. “Come on, let me get in there!”

“Red!” Yang snapped, making her sister jump. “This is not a game, and this is not school! You will stay on my ass and shoot what I tell you to shoot! Got that?”

A surge of defiance welled up between Ruby’s teeth, red and sweet and hot, but she bit down until it subsided. “Yes, sir.”

Yang flashed her mech's glowing green eyes at Ruby for just a second before turning forward again. “Now, if you'd actually wait, you'd learn that we're just dipping in to silence a particularly loud gunboat, then we'll be dashing out to start hunting some of the command carriers. No good dogfighting in the center, anyways, too much flak.”

Ruby felt her face and the Haema’s face go warm. “Oh.”

“Now get that stupid thing pointing forward, we’ll be lining up soon, and I wanna see what it can do.”

“Right!” the rookie Pilot agreed, instantly cheering up. She whipped the staff of her weapon around and shifted her thumb along its side, releasing bipods that she hooked along the front of Yang's shields. With her other hand, she slotted a sabot the size of her Haema's middle and index fingers into the giant gun's receiver, feeding the maw of her monstrous Crescent Rose as she slammed the bolt forward. She felt the barrel start to hum in her hands— in her Haema's hands, which felt exactly like her own— and mentally requested a targeting solution. Seeing a digital alignment with her barrel and an alignment to the target, she matched the two lines. The gunboat, so far away and roaring with so many cannons, looked like prey, and Ruby slavered for it.

“Ready,” she managed to say, holding herself back despite the scarlet lust in her veins.

“Fire when—”

Ruby felt the round blast in her metal hands, jolting her back against Yang's shields, the explosive primer kickstarting the sabot through the railgun’s coils and slingshotting it out the barrel so fast that the first impact with the gunboat's aft shields turned the tip into plasma— which was perfectly according to plan. The front half of the sabot vaporized a bright blue, tearing a hole through the shield that ferried the round’s second, denser half straight into the hull. The projectile tore through the gunboat like a meteorite through paper, blasting out an exit wound that had the small vessel looking like a big metal flower. Its guns sputtered out one last breath before the whole ship started to blankly list, dead.

Ruby’s cheeks hurt from her grin, and she'd smiled hard enough to split the bites she'd made just before the interface node. Vitae bubbled to the wounds, sweet and viscous, congealing over them like amber. “Did you see that?” she asked, feeling her voice a little frantic. “Now we veer out, right? To the big ship?”

Yang’s voice came out like a worried stare. “Yes. Just… keep following my lead.”

Ruby, despite herself, giggled as Yang turned them both tangentially along the main sphere of combat, skirting the worst of it and blasting towards the outer limits. The carrier, a fat, juicy obelisk of a ship, came into sight quickly, looking like a ripe fruit produced just for her. Ruby slid another rectangular primer into its slot, then racked a new sabot. She wouldn't need a targeting solution for this. “Ready."

Yang, surprisingly, took a while. She said nothing while Ruby dithered impatiently, feeling her gun’s hum, her finger itching on the trigger. They came closer, kept coming closer, and Ruby had to hunker down behind her sister’s shields as they came within range of the carrier’s guns.

“Yang! Yang!”

The golden Haema beneath her jolted. “Fire!”

Ruby breathed a sigh even before she pulled the trigger. The primer exploded, the round flew free, and she could track the sabot’s blistering line towards the carrier’s center, where it'd rip through the shields and tumble through whatever mass of important stuff lay vulnerable beneath the shell of its hull. Then the whole thing would explode hotly, and Ruby could bask in the satisfaction of heroism, knowing she saved her faithful brethren and damned the seculars.

Only, the sabot never struck the hull, never ripped at the big carrier’s juicy insides, because something— some-frigging-how— deflected it. A bright shape, either white or blue, stood between her and her prey.

Then Ruby was tumbling, because Yang had been completely ripped out from under her, thrust out as a spiraling mass of yellow and violet— another Haema, Ruby realized, wrestling with her sister and somehow holding its own!

Her control thrusters blasted, Ruby splayed her arms and legs wide, and she flourished her staff into both hands. Charging after her sister, the lance shunted out a long blade from its tip. The Lancer became its namesake, spear held straight and true as the vitae in Ruby's system coursed with a lust for combat.

Her charge was arrested by a blur of blinding white. Another Haema stood before her, a blue-limned buckler on its right forearm and a long white sword in its left hand. It was smooth and articulated, formed like a porcelain suit of ancient plate armor, complete with resplendent blue pauldrons that supported a bright cyan cape. Its eyes were a baleful, clashing red, locked perfectly onto Ruby’s— in and out of the Haema.

She felt something. Some… tugging. A pull at her heart and her veins and her brain. A familiar feeling.

Ruby stared into those glowing scarlet eyes and felt a hunger. A clawing need. A lust and a desperation that Ruby had never seen in anyone else before.

Another bloodcaller.

“Achtung, Bauer!” rocketed a voice from that knightly Haema, haughty and high-pitched. “You stand in ze presence of Schnee! In your thick skull, realize zat resistance is futile! Your God has abandoned you!”

Of course, the first time she'd ever met another bloodcaller, they were crazy. “What?”

“Zis is your last chance! Drop ze lance!”

Ruby blinked, the gears in her skull going ka-klunk and slipping into rapid motion, slapping her with realization: she would fight a fellow bloodcaller. And on her first day!

Ruby lowered the tip of her spear in a move that she hoped looked honorable and flared her stabilizers. “Nope,” she said through a voracious grin. “Let's go.”

Her ears crackled loudly, a voice— her sister's voice— wailing through: “N-no! Ruby! Don—”

Static cut Yang's transmission down to nothing. She felt a rise of protectiveness within her, an urge to bolt past this weirdo and grab her sister, but a single movement from the Haema before her choked everything dry. It dipped low at the waist, spread its arms, and bowed.

Sense left Ruby. Rationality fled completely. All she had was lust.

Space shortened to nothing before her, the Schnee (whatever that meant) getting closer as Ruby blasted fully towards it, spear extended, thrusting outwards decisively for the center of mass. The knightly mech parried her stupendously, buckler arcing up and batting the lance away with ease, with force, nearly throwing it out of Ruby’s giant silver palms before she redoubled her grip and blasted past the Haema. She cut her thrusters and rolled, her body barreling around until the spear’s point was once again level with her opponent, at which point the long blade shifted dorsally, presenting the gun-barrel once more as Ruby slapped in a primer and shoved a sabot home. She pulled the trigger.

The porcelain-looking Haema knocked her sabot away with a shower of plasma and shrapnel, the force of the round throwing its arm back and turning it slightly before some kind of control thrusters kicked in, or another stabilizer that Ruby couldn't see. Without hesitation, she set her spear’s point forward again and charged, screaming towards the bloodcaller, lance out. This time, with their buckler still away, the Haema clashed its sword— a rapier with some kind of fancy, colorful hilt— directly against her spear, locking the point against their crossguard and sending them both flying with Ruby’s momentum.

“Utterly lacking!” the porcelain knight cried. “You are artless, you are overly quick, you make no grace of your movements!”

The buckler came around and smashed into Ruby’s head, separating her from the bloodcaller and making everything spin. She fanned out her thrusters for control, but she moved too late— the knight was behind her, her sensors were screaming, she could feel the thrust that was about to penetrate her spine— she would die. The blade would penetrate her chassis and vent her cockpit into the cold aether. Ruby would flop into space, helmetless, the heavy vitae in her body pulsing and pushing until she went unconscious, and it all ripped out of her veins at once. Ruby Rose, on her first mission, her divine christening, would die.

Ruby blew all the thrusters on her right side and pulsed up with her feet, forcing the rapier to slide into the hip of her Haema instead of the lethal center. Her huge mechanical body held the blade like a sheath, and she flipped her staff to—

“Hold still, you idiot!” the knight cried, its hand coming around to grab Ruby by the face— her Haema’s face. “There!”

“I've got you!” Ruby cried first.

“N— no, you have not!” the bloodcaller protested. “You are facing ze other vay! I have you by ze face!”

Ruby let her smirk drip into her voice. “You didn't notice? Look behind you.”

There was a shuffle, metal-on-metal as the knight’s body moved against Ruby’s, which felt confusingly like flesh-on-flesh. She felt the Haema, the bloodcaller within, jump in surprise as they caught sight of Ruby’s spear— with the long blade of its head flipped like a scythe’s— hugging the crook of their porcelain neck. “Huh,” they said, which sounded like a real person right next to Ruby’s real ear. “Aren't you something.”

“Now let me go, or you'll die first.”

The other bloodcaller snorted, their voice tight but humored. “Nein. I vill not.”

“And why not, huh?”

The fingers around Ruby’s face, their steel feeling like real flesh, warmed to burning. “Because I have still gotten you.”

Burning, something which Ruby couldn't feel. Pain, impossible when the Haema had her nerves cut dead, but it all surged right to her brain nonetheless. She felt the sword in her hip— the real sword in her real hip, lodged in flesh and bone and gushing blood— and she screamed. She wailed, thrashed, swinging her scythe like it would relieve the feeling that could never be felt, the impossibility that had become reality. She had lived her whole life knowing that the Haema’s pain could never be hers, but now her reality was sundered. She arched her spine— the Haema’s spine, her spine, the bodies were the same, the agony was the same, they were both howling.

The sword exited her bones and metal in a white flash of anguish, and Ruby found herself being jerked backward by a hand. She felt her ears coming alive with sound, hot and loud.

“Ruby!” Yang called from a mile away. “Ruby, are you— they got you! Oh god, Ruby, Ruby respond!”

Ruby gurgled, unable to find her voice. She felt her Haema moving, limp.

“You're alive! Thank God, they got you. Okay. Just… stay there, okay? Everything—”

Static cut her out again. Ruby gurgled again.

“Vhy are you making zat noise?” the bloodcaller asked, dragging her limp Haema by the neck. “You should not be avake.”

Vitae surged in her, a well of defiance rising in her gut, but nowhere else. “I… I'll kill you,” she promised. “I'll… do it.”

Ruby’s head lolled back, her eyes boring up at the other bloodcaller. It stared back. Ruby could feel their eyes— her eyes, she was certain— clashing against her own. The hand around her neck was real. The body carrying her was blood and meat and skin. The bloodcaller dragged her all the way to the carrier she'd failed to destroy. She chucked her into a hangar, one similar in all the important ways to the one she'd just left. Ruby’s metal body sighed limply against the floor.

Porcelain feet entered her vision, their shape like sabatons, and Ruby’s brain was convinced that they'd be warm to the touch. There was a sound. Then another sound, then more sounds. Then a hissing, a clanking, a sliding. Ruby’s split perception differentiated, one pair of her eyes seeing the world open into white light before her, the other pair staring listlessy at the big metal feet. She wasn't sure which was real.

There was a person inside her. The person, the bloodcaller, the girl like her, not a knight but a stretched-out thing of white that her red-tinted vision struggled to comprehend. Ruby’s eyes failed to focus, and any attempts to move her body only made the wrong limbs move, the ones that were on the outside. A voice slipped into Ruby’s ears, real, with a tongue and lips and air, but no less real than that knight’s voice had been.

“Vait, vat in ze fuck?” the white thing tugged at her umbilical cord— her transfusion cable. “Mein Gott, zis is so much vitae. How are you alive?”

Ruby blinked, pushing out saplike red tears. Speaking felt unfamiliar, like it was in the wrong throat— everything felt unfamiliar. Scrambling, panicking sensors felt just like her sense of smell and taste. She couldn't differentiate.

“Vat? Vat are you saying?”

The bright white head bent towards Ruby. She tried to force air over her throat, remembering manually what a voice was supposed to be. “Blood… crall… brall… brac… ler…”

The white thing shook its head. “Have you a concussion? I did not give you one.”

Ruby groaned, testing her vocal chords. “Blood… blood… call… er.”

White made no sign of acknowledgement and instead gripped Ruby's umbilical cord fully. “Let us get some normal blood in you, oder?”

Ruby tried to thrash. Her body didn't comply. Something was covering her vision, obscuring her view of the white thing, something caked thickly over her whole face— hair, thick and dark, crystallized to her skin by dried vitae. She was bleary. She was angry. Nobody would take her vitae away.

This point was carried across through weak movements of her arms and tiny, wordless burbles, which white-thing either didn't understand or didn't respect. Ruby vacillated, stuck between flopping in her chair or trying to flop out of it, but White did another series of indecipherable things with her hands, causing the worst thing ever to happen to Ruby:

All her vitae raced up her veins, dilating and burning her vessels as the thick stuff moved faster than it should, scraping Ruby’s insides and blasting up, leaking from her eyes as it bulged up her neck. At the same time, feeble blood flooded her carotid, piping traitorously from her own Haema, hot and cold and thin. It felt like all her parts were filling with tepid water. Her mind slowed to a crawl, her vision sharpened and dulled simultaneously, and her pain doubled.

White held her down. “Stop your thrashing!” it demanded, its accent turning ‘thrashing’ into ‘trashing’. “Vhy are you going crazy!”

Ruby kept thrashing. She couldn't not be thrashing until the white smear fumbled at the back of her neck, grabbed something it should not grav, and yanked.

Unfortunately, that seemed to work because the violent cleaving of Ruby's existence snapped everything into perfect human clarity. Her body became singular, unbalanced and nauseous, but the physical pain disappeared. It was replaced by mental pain, anguish of memory, the haunting of that impossible pain reeking deep in Ruby's bones. Her brain felt like a sinkhole— brought so high then wrenched so low— vacant and filling only with the upending memory of having her real hip getting pierced by a real sword.

It was worse than the actual pain. Somehow. Now she was sober, no high to ride from the vitae, no adrenaline, no nothing but her thoughts and the recollection of the rapier and her bones, free to be remembered in excruciating detail from all angles. A fundamental fact of her life had been shattered. Painfully.

Ruby's hearing cleared before her vision did.

“Okay, okay, you are okay? Ja?”

Ruby opened her eyes, only to realize they were already open. They took a little longer to calibrate.

When the image in front of her, still obscured by plastered black hair, finally came to clarity, Ruby scowled.

The smear of white, the bloodcaller who'd done this to her, was a girl. Probably. Her hair was long and white, hanging in an asymmetrical ribbon of a ponytail. Her features were pale, powder or snow, and pinched somewhat close to… frustration? Concern? With her bright, colorless brows drawn so tight, Ruby couldn't tell. Her lips were a pursed bow, pinker than lips should be, chin and nose downright cherubic to match.

Cute. The face was cute. Even if it was riven with sharp, surgical lines. A vertical seam split her nose from tip to bridge, vanishing somewhere under her hairline. Forked lines cupped the orbits of her eyes, dipping down her cheeks like tears, cresting over her jaw and continuing until they disappeared beneath her collar. More angular lines ringed each ear. Her face looked like it could just… open.

Ruby gulped. Without vitae, she felt weak. No indignant heat rose in her chest. She didn't spit ‘you secular waste!’ in her face. Her cheeks warmed. Her head lolled a little.

“Oh, you are not okay. You… how did you… nichts. Macht nichts.” She shook her head and looked out of the gaping cockpit of Ruby's Haema. “I vill be back mit Wasser— water. You need it. Er… stay put. Egal.”

Ruby watched her leave, and she wasn't sure how much time had passed before the bloodcaller came back. It felt like a blink, but Ruby felt tender, vulnerable loneliness like she'd been gone forever. She felt pathetic. She was pathetic. She should be throttling this lady, killing her, but she just sat there slumped, feeling (and probably looking) like a wounded animal. The girl, the bloodcaller, knelt before her. Ruby realized she was on her side. She didn't remember falling out of the seat.

The girl tilted Ruby’s chin up, holding a water bottle like it was a gun.

A voice rumbled up Ruby’s shredded throat— her own, probably. “Wher… sher…”

“Hm? Ja? Still avake?”

“Nnnn… naamm-uh. Nayum.” Ruby worked her jaw, getting feeling back in her mouth. “Name. Your name.”

“Schnee,” Schnee said. “Like I said.”

Ruby turned her nose up petulantly. “Nuh-uh. That's not a name.”

“Oh really? Then vhy don't you tell me your—”

“Ruby,” Ruby answered stupidly, giving intel away to the enemy like the concussed idiot she was.

“Zat is just as believable as mine."

“I'm a bloodcaller. So’re you.”

Schnee stared at her. Ruby stared back. “Weiss,” Weiss said eventually. “And I'm not… that.”

Ruby tried the name on her tongue. “Vice?”

The girl cringed. “Just…” she sighed with a lifetime of defeat. “Weiss. Mit einem ‘W’. Wuh.”

“Vuh?” Ruby tried, concussed. “Vuh-ice?"

“Nein. Weiss. Ooouuh-ice.”

“Ooouuh-ice.”

“Weiss.”

“Vice.”

“Double-u."

“Uu-ice?”

Weiss (Uu-ice, apparently) dragged a hand laboriously over her face. Ruby noticed surgical marks on that, too. “Ja. Sure. Uu-ice. Close enough.” She grabbed Ruby's jaw and tilted her face up towards the water bottle. “Now say ‘aaah’.”

Ruby (still concussed, still an idiot) obeyed, opening her mouth wide and even going ‘aaah’ for her mortal enemy, ready to accept her anomalous fluids. Weiss squeezed the bottle. Water blasted over Ruby’s face, which felt amazing, soaking her as the other bloodcaller focused the stream towards Ruby's dumb idiot waiting mouth. The water was heaven on her tongue, washing all the sweetness of vitae away.

The girl— the bloodcaller— Weiss— pulled the bottle back and, with undue care, brushed Ruby’s now-wet, un-crystallized hair out of her face. She stared, brows raising. Her eyes were impossibly blue.

“Scheiße,” she mumbled. “You are pretty.”

#white rose in bloom #my writing #ruby rose #weiss schnee #whiterose #mecha #cw: suggestive #cw: body horror

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dr-futbol-blog · 7 months ago

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Aurora, Pt. 9

Inside the simulation, Sheppard has located the ship's Captain seemingly inside his own private quarters. Whether he had just happened to land on him, had been searching various places before finding him or had been drawn to the Captain through that magnetic pull between the Ancients is unclear. Startled by Sheppard, the Captain seems ready to call for help but like the guard, he seems to get some kind of a feel regarding Sheppard that at least makes him want to trust him.

Sheppard: Hi! Me again. Wait, wait, please, just... listen. I'm not here to hurt anyone.

The reason that people want to trust Sheppard is not just his charming personality, as he has very obviously received training in psychological warfare, in manipulating people to get them to behave the way that he wants or needs them to behave. Here Sheppard shows the Captain his open palms, which is meant to convince the target of the fact that he is not concealing a weapon, which is made amusing by the fact that he actually is holding a weapon. Only, the Ancient popsicle is so unfamiliar to him that it does not even register as a weapon, and hence it takes him a beat to realize that showing the Captain that he is not carrying a weapon while brandishing a weapon is counterproductive. And so he puts the weapon away, slowly approaching the man while displaying his empty palms like he would a wild animal. He emphasizes his message of being nonthreatening with his words and tone matching his gestures. Even his facial expressions are designed to put the target at ease, to establish a friendly rapport.

Also, let us note the fact that Sheppard is approaching the Captain where he likely could have said what he was going to say from where he was standing. Getting closer probably would have made convincing the Captain easier if he managed to make him feel comfortable in his presence, but this is also a case of Sheppard being physically pulled toward an Ancient. He may not realize what he is doing, he may not be doing it out of any conscious choice on his part, but he definitely feels the need to approach this man just as he had approached the man that had first caught him.

Sheppard: I want to help you. Help all of us. I know all this sounds strange but just give me a chance to prove that what I'm saying--

Where the Captain is at least curious enough to listen to Sheppard without calling for help, the wraith takes him out before he has a chance of convincing him of anything. We do not know what kind of training the or members of the Ancient military may have had in human (or Ancient) behaviour, but it is possible that the Captain was convinced more by what ever neural feedback he was getting from Sheppard, his vibes. He even tells his First Officer, "What if he is telling the truth? Do you not sense it too? That something is wrong?" There is a psychic component to how the Ancients interact with each other, and the Captain was feeling something about Sheppard.

Sheppard is zapped unconscious by the wraith using the Ancient popsicle, and he is carried away by two guards. Neither of these men are the young guard that Sheppard had left in the brig, and given that the wraith tells the Captain that Sheppard had only just escaped (and apparently had made his way directly to the Captain, just knowing where he would be), the young guard was probably still locked away. What is interesting is that there is a mirror behind the Captain and we can see both Sheppard and the wraith's reflections in it. One might expect to see the wraith in the reflection but we do not, the mirror image is that of the First Officer, even though by her evil smirk we are able to tell by now that this woman has to be a space vampire in disguise. What it tells us is that the wraith has near complete control of the simulation.

Back in the real world, what ever software McKay was running to monitor Sheppard's vitals alerts him immediately to the fact that Sheppard has shifted into a deeper state of sleep, him being rendered unconscious in the virtual environment manifesting in a shift in his brain wave patterns. The reason why McKay is able to catch on so quickly is that he was monitoring Sheppard's brain waves while they were standing there. McKay does not know what the change means but he is immediately concerned because any change is not good.

Teyla: What is wrong? McKay: Delta waves? Dex: What are they? Caldwell: Doctor McKay? Are you ready to be beamed aboard? McKay: It hasn't even been five minutes! Teyla: Doctor McKay has discovered a problem. Caldwell: What kind of a problem?

It is interesting that while McKay is triggered by the data, Teyla pings that something is wrong from McKay's expression, reading him just as expertly as McKay reads the computer read-out. And like we have seen her do many times with Sheppard, she picks up explaining the situation to Caldwell as it seems that McKay is in the kind of zone that makes it difficult to engage in civil communication and he answers Caldwell's questions just by snapping at him. But it is interesting that McKay makes a reference to the passage of time and his sense of how much time has passed because we have seen that dissociation makes his sense of time distorted. We cannot be sure if his approximation of only five minutes having passed is correct or not, but Caldwell certainly seems to feel like they have had more than enough time to sort out what ever they needed to get Sheppard out of the pod.

McKay: Colonel Sheppard's EEG frequencies are decreasing. I'm reading delta waves which indicate that he's unconscious within the virtual environment. I'm not sure how it happened but something's definitely wrong in there. Caldwell: Even more reason to pull him out. McKay: That would be a mistake. Look, additional data I've been able to decipher from the wraith's biometrics receiver shows significant manipulation of the feedback loop, something we were clearly not aware of when Sheppard went in. Caldwell: We were also clearly not aware of the two wraith cruisers approaching.

McKay is clearly frustrated having to explain things when he should be doing things, but it is testament to Sheppard having trained him to explain things to him in a way that he can understand that McKay is actually doing that here. He is taking the time to explain what the problem is and what his assessment of the situation is.

Also note his use of the word "Look" here. We have seen Sheppard physically react to hearing this word and it may be caused by situations such as this, of McKay using it when he is explaining something, the explaining often happening in tense and time-sensitive situations. Hearing the word in such contexts would cause a Pavlovian reaction, as mentioned by McKay at the beginning of the episode, of Sheppard reacting physically to hearing the word. It triggers him into paying attention to what ever follows it. It also underscores the importance of exchanging looks in their communication. Whether he does it consciously or not, by saying the word "Look" McKay is asking Sheppard to look at him while he is explaining something, to focus on him so that he can ascertain by the look on Sheppard's face whether his explanation is sinking in.

McKay: Colonel, this wraith is controlling the program which means it might have booby-trapped it as well. We're talking about Sheppard's life here. Caldwell: And I'm talking about the lives of not only every person aboard this ship but every person in Atlantis when the wraith find out it wasn't destroyed.

McKay is presented with a clear dilemma here. Sheppard's life versus the lives of everyone on the Daedalus and in Atlantis. Caldwell has laid out the stakes for him in no uncertain terms. And while keeping Atlantis, his home, safe is extremely important to McKay, it should come as no surprise what his choice is. At the end of the day, Atlantis is a place. It is Sheppard that has made it home for him. It is Sheppard that is his home. And the thing is, as Sheppard points out by the end of the season, McKay works extremely well under pressure. It is possibly the result of his childhood environment, of having used homework and chores to escape the tense atmosphere created by his parents who hated each other and blamed him, but as long as he has something to do, as long as he has something to occupy himself with, McKay is not paralyzed by a ticking clock. Caldwell has given him a deadline, and he is going to use that time to do what has to be done.

Caldwell: I'm well aware of what's at stake here, Doctor. Get him out of that pod, or my men will. Caldwell out. McKay: I'm going in! Look, stall Caldwell, buy me some time, just a few minutes at the most. Teyla: What if you are unable to disconnect? Dex: Caldwell's gonna blow that ship whether you're in there or not.

When McKay had told Sheppard that he should be able to disconnect him without permanent brain damage, he had mostly been joking. But he had meant that he would do everything in his power to make sure that Sheppard would come out of the experience unscathed. He had been keeping a keen eye on Sheppard's vitals the whole time because he was concerned for his safety and well-being. And here Caldwell had threatened to send his men to forcefully disconnect Sheppard without any of them having any idea what that would do to him. Caldwell was asking him to choose between Sheppard's mind and the people of Atlantis.

McKay thinks about it for only a beat and decides that his own life if the cheapest commodity here. Teyla had asked earlier which would be the greater loss, himself or Sheppard. And McKay had made it sound like he thought it was Sheppard, obviously. He should go. Only, he had not meant it then and he certainly had never thought that Sheppard's life was worth less than his own, very much to the contrary. Risking his own life to save Sheppard was as easy as breathing. This was why he had allowed Sheppard to go under in the first place, that he might be able to fix what ever might go wrong from the outside. And so he looks around for a vacant pod, quickly devising a plan of how he might be able to help Sheppard from the inside.

McKay: You see, the thing is, Colonel Sheppard and I have sort of gotten into this habit of saving each other's lives, and it's my turn. It could be your turn next.

Because both Teyla and Ronon are looking over his shoulder, clearly concerned, McKay feels the need to give them an explanation. Despite the impression that both of them may have gotten earlier when he was playing 4D chess by letting Sheppard to go under, McKay both values Sheppard's life more than his own, he also considers his own life cheap currency to start with. He does not value his own life, and Weir had to remind him of how important his life is to everyone on Atlantis at the end of Trinity (S02E06) because McKay, due to his poor self-esteem, just does not understand his worth. But even if he did, Sheppard would still be worth more to him because Sheppard is the most important person in his life. Sheppard is the love of his life. Sheppard is his life. Obviously he is going to go in to save him.

But that is not something that he can tell them, and certainly cannot let Caldwell in on this fact. So he comes up with a plausible reason. They have gotten into the "habit of saving each other's lives." And certainly they have done that a lot. Where Ronon is new to the team and has not observed them do that a lot, Teyla has been observing them much longer. But even she is not privy to the extent that they have been saving each other's lives. In the early days, they were often saving the lives of everyone on Atlantis and each other besides. But it had evolved to them saving each other in particular by the Genii Siege (The Eye S01E11, where Weir and McKay were pretty much the only people on Atlantis at the time when Sheppard decided to kill a whole lot of people to save them) and The Defiant One (S01E12), when McKay and Sheppard had been the only people on the whole planet and had both risked their own lives to protect the other.

They had saved each other's lives so much that they had lost count, and it was not important anyway. Love is not a reciprocal relationship, it is a contest on who gets to do more for the other person. And it was not just that they were willing to risk their own lives to save the other, both of them would be willing to risk a whole lot more lives than just their own to save the other man to the point where both of them were willing to sacrifice literally every other human life to save the other in The Last Man (S04E20). They both did that. McKay erased his whole timeline and Sheppard was willing to let the human race go extinct.

Realizing that his desperation to get in to save Sheppard, the ease with which he was willing to jump from the frying pan right into the fire, was probably beginning to look real suspicious to people that they were supposed to be hiding their feelings for the other from, he tacks on the "might be your turn next" at the end. Like it was the result of good old team spirit that he was doing this for. And for sure, he did care about his team members and would go to all manner of lengths to save them too. But that was not what this was about. He just was not allowed to tell them what this was really about.

McKay: Look, hit this to manually disconnect me. If I do not regain consciousness, go ahead and open Colonel Sheppard's pod. Have us beamed directly to Daedalus, and make sure they have a medical team waiting.

It is obvious that McKay is afraid, but being afraid had never stopped him from being brave. Note again that as McKay is giving Teyla instructions, trying to be as clear about them as possible, he begins by telling her to "Look," using this word to make her focus on what is important. And what is most important to him is Sheppard, which is why he tells her what to do with him first. The first thing they need to do is to make sure that Sheppard gets beamed out of the ship before Caldwell blows them up. He, the genius that is vital to the running of Atlantis, is not only willing to sacrifice his life but to weather actual brain damage to get Sheppard out of there. He is not doing this for a friend. He is not looking at her with this pleading desperation because he wants to save his team leader. It takes actual effort to not see this for what it is.

Teyla: Are you sure you wanna do this? McKay: I'm sure I don't! OK.

McKay sounds like he is close to hyperventilating as he lays himself down on the platform, his voice clearly trembling from fear. He is also honest in admitting to Teyla that he really does not want to be doing this. The fact that this is so difficult for him just emphasizes the importance he puts on Sheppard's life. Ronon looks away, clearly thinking about something as McKay prepares to go under and where he obviously respects what McKay is doing, it is never entirely clear what he thinks about McKay's relationship to Sheppard. He also does not like the fact that he is not able to protect neither Sheppard nor McKay when they are under.

McKay: Alright. There's more than enough air in there. Right. Course there is. Crew's been sealed inside these things for thousands of years. Teyla: Are you alright? McKay: Yeah, it's just my claustrophobia. I'll be fine.

McKay confesses to suffering from claustrophobia, the fear of enclosed spaces. One of the known causes of claustrophobia is a traumatic childhood experience, and may in fact result from repeated exposure to something like a child being shut into a pitch-black room unable find the door or the light-switch, being locked in a closet as a means of punishment, or being neglected by being left alone in their parents' car. Given what McKay has exposed about his childhood environment, any number of experiences such as these may have resulted in him developing claustrophobia.

But what is interesting is that this is not the first time that we see him enclosed in a tight space where there is a chance of air running out. We saw him concerned with the availability of air in The Siege (S01E19) in his space suit, where he actually explicitly confessed to having claustrophobia, and in The Intruder (S02E02), locked in the cockpit of a fighter-interceptor with Sheppard. In the former case, Peter Grodin was able to walk McKay through the experience by soothing him, telling him he was going to be fine. In the latter case, Sheppard had told McKay that they might conserve the air by McKay not talking. At all. And with this, Sheppard had been able to trigger McKay's indignation, clearly displayed in how he folded his arms and started sulking. In fact, this may have been a conscious strategy by Sheppard for getting McKay's thoughts away from the closed space and the air running out to being miffed with him instead.

Both Sheppard and Grodin had been able to hack McKay's brain into making him feel better in a situation that was clearly causing him anxiety, and it is entirely likely that Sheppard knows about McKay's fear of being confined in a small space feeling like air is going to run out. Their strategies were different but Sheppard's was the more efficient one, diverting McKay's thoughts away from the experience. Annoyed with Sheppard, McKay had spared not a single thought to air running out and being confined in a small space. Here, as he tries to convince himself that there is more than enough air in the pods, he might also be trying to summon his internal Sheppard to give him more courage for the experience.

McKay: I hope. Now, the system should engage once you send me in. Teyla: Alright. McKay: Right. So, send me in? Teyla: Oh! Yes! Good luck. McKay: Right.

McKay and Teyla's exchange here just before McKay goes under can be contrasted with McKay and Sheppard earlier, the difference emphasizing the ease with which Sheppard and McKay communicate. Here, McKay expected Teyla to get that he wanted her to send him in by saying the words "once you send me in," but she was clearly waiting for some kind of a command or order from him to press go. McKay's exchange with Sheppard had been much more succinct:

McKay: Ready? Sheppard: I was! McKay: Good!

Also, note that there was no wishing of luck or anything that might be interpreted as a good-bye in their exchange because they have that on-going conversation and they never really leave each other, they just temporarily vacate each other's presence. In fact, the moment Sheppard came out from the pod, they picked up their conversation with:

McKay: So? Sheppard: Worked! McKay: Well course it worked!

All of this just emphasizes the ease of their communication, as well as the way they "talk as only a husband and wife can talk, that is, apprehending one another's thoughts and exchanging ideas with extraordinary swiftness and perspicuity, contrary to all the rules of logic, without the aid of premises, deductions, or conclusions, and in a quite singular way," as the communication between Pierre and Natasha is described in War and Peace. Teyla and McKay are close, they have worked with each other on the daily for over a year and live in each others' pockets. They are friends and colleagues. And yet their communication is completely different from the way Sheppard and McKay communicate. Here, Teyla and McKay finish their exchange as McKay goes under. Sheppard and McKay never finish their exchange.

Continued in Pt. 10

#sga #stargate atlantis #john sheppard #sga meta #sheppard is bi #rodney mckay #rodney is gay #mcshep #ep. aurora #ep. the eye #ep. the defiant one #ep. the last man

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numberonetacostan · 6 months ago

Note

If the objects created by MePhone can still glitch, I say if because I might have missed something that shows they can't, but if they can wouldn't that mean that certain things could cause someone to glitch out of existence Strong emotions for example, on that topic Taco's emotions do make her shell shatter and that's a whole other set of implications and we don't know if that can happen to other objects or if it's only Taco or even if it was only that one time.

Slightly off topic there but my point was still that it'd be very easy to die (save for objects like Clover for pretty obvious reasons) if they can glitch out or just fall apart -shut down, run out of battery(?) deflate ect-

Hi there!!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for sending in an ask!!! :)

I don't believe there's anything that explicitly says they can't glitch anymore, but I don't believe they can. The glitching we saw was due to mental distress due to their awareness of their nature while they were still connected to MeLife. Knowing how they were created went against how they were supposed to be made, interfered with their neural network connection since they were very much not supposed to know this, yeah? I think now that they've all been severed from MeLife, they won't be able to glitch anymore.

Strong emotions, on the other hand, do seem to be able to kill objects, at least more fragile ones. We see OJ do something similar in episode 1 of season 2 after the plane destroys a large portion of the hotel, yeah? Though it was played more for laughs and is not nearly as serious as what happened to Taco. But it is important to keep in mind since he wasn't damaged at the time like Taco was. She was already breaking because of her previous injury, OJ just shattered due to shock.

It would be quite easy for a lot of the contestants to die, but for the first time, we have every single one of them working together as a collective group, yeah? They're putting the drama of the show behind them and becoming a cohesive unit, so I think the more at-risk object will be well protected <3. And, as for running out of battery, Lightbulb has her electricity powers, yeah? So she could give their batteries a nice zap to charge them right up! They'd all work hard to keep each other alive and functioning.

#inanimate insanity #ii taco #taco ii #loomy's answers #inanimate insanity hc #oj ii #ii oj #loomy's metas #lightbulb ii #ii lightbulb

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the-wicked-science-of-love · 23 days ago

Text

Reconciliation is the first step forward

Originally posted April 2nd

Months after their previous exchange, the two of them once again found themselves within each other's presence. Forced together against their will, as each was cunningly kidnapped and thrown together in an enclosed space. Beau came too first, startling when he saw one of the Doctor’s bodies slumped over across from him. He quickly took in his surroundings and realized they had been trapped in a broken down elevator. At first he tried to go for the hatch at the top, only to find it welded shut. Next he tried to pry open the doors, but those wouldn't budge under his strength. As his eyes frantically darted around the room, the Doctor began to wake up behind him.

“You.”

The two stared at each other for one silent moment before the TV head leapt at the android. They immediately began to brawl with each other, fists flying. The two fought like animals, banging into the walls causing the elevator to shake and sway. They did not care, laying into the other hard since their last encounter ended so sour. The only thing to put a stop to it was a loud snap, then the elevator involuntarily tilted forward. They looked at each other and then the elevator, then began a desperate attempt to return to their main bodies. But something was wrong, something was blocking them, they looked at each other with a mutual look when Beau spoke.

“Truce, truce before this elevator snaps and plummets us to our deaths.”

“It is a rare, once in a lifetime event for me to agree with you. And yet, I agree.”

The two go silent again, Beau looking for ways to escape while Harley tries to think of how he got in this mess in the first place.

“Did you also feel a buzzing in your head before blacking out? I think someone zapped the neural link connecting me to my body, since I can't seem to get a connection.”

“No. Unlike you I am not limited to bodies. I am everywhere inside this facilities’ technology. Whoever it was, had to methodically block every connection I had outside of the one I was using at that moment.”

“Either the resistance to the Prototype’s reign has suddenly gotten smarter, or there's something new around here trying to put an end to us.”

“Impossible, I would have known a long time ago if some unfortunate soul stumbled into the factory. There is nowhere they could hide where I cannot see them.”

“Then who would be smart enough to think up such a plan? Because I seriously don't believe the rebel group has gotten smart enough to do this to us.”

Harley doesn't answer, taking a long moment to think about an answer when it comes to him. Even when his face is only a singular eyeball, it can still portray emotions in its own little way. It flickers from sudden realization to immense confusion and even a hint of doubt.

“The Prototype. It is… nonsensical yet still possible this was the work of 1006.”

Beau raises an eyebrow at him before responding. “The Prototype.. the guy that you literally work under.. trapped you with me in an elevator that could me moments from collapsing and killing us both?”

“Inane I know, but it's the only possibility. I just can't even begin to fathom why. I am still of use to it, so therefore it would not dispose of me with you if it has decided it no longer wants you in the picture. It knows we're always at each other's throats, we've gone beyond rivals now, we are enemies. What is the point in this?”

Beau closes his eyes and nods, starting to paint a bigger picture in his mind, and then it hits him. But how does one even bring up such a concept to such a man so aggressive at the slightest hair trigger. First, perhaps, a question needs to be asked.

“Has 1006 ever mentioned if I'm useful to it?”

Harley looks aghast at this question. “It’s not like I have casual conversations with the thing, it gives me orders and I execute them. You are a chaotic little... pain in my ass! If anything the only use you would be of to it is if you sided with me. Which is preposterous and would never happen.”

“Maybe that's what it wants to happen.”

Harley makes a strangling motion with his hands. “ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS!?”

Beau throws his hands up in defense. “Hear me out- hear me out- this is some form of forced trust exercise. We have to get over ourselves and then work together to get the hell out of here. Then in the future we will be open to working together again and then just like that we’re teammates.”

“I would rather the cable and chain keeping this elevator suspended mid-air, snap and send us plummeting to our doom.”

“Fine by me, I would never listen to the Prototype anyway. Taking orders from our experiments like we're lesser than them, our creations, the things that we made? Absolutely not.”

“I’m only doing that to survive, it’s intelligence is one thing but it's strength is another.”

“I defeated you in a battle, I'm sure I could handle it.”

“Your arrogance will be your undoing.”

“Likewise. In fact, it's already happened once before.”

The two turn away from each other, absolutely furious with each other over every word uttered. When it's abruptly ended by the Doctor, suddenly standing up and beginning to go through every method of escape, having as much success as Beau did.

“Credit where credit is, regretfully, due. 1006 is efficient in forcing us to comply with it one way or another. Now what will it take for you to aid me in forcing the door open?”

“You!? Asking me!? For help!? Why, I thought I'd never see the day!”

“Beauregard, enough with the tongue! Just do this one thing!”

“Or what, H a r l e y ? Are you going to attack me? Berate me? There is nothing that I could gain from this-”

“Your freedom is what you gain from this.”

“Mmmno. I need more to go on than that.”

“Oh my- fffine. How about… mmm… I never retaliate to you getting in the way of my work.”

“My that's a strong offer! It almost makes mine.. uneven. Suppose then I'd have to sweeten the pot too. How about, in turn I stop my antics? We go our separate ways, not as enemies, but as strangers.”

“Whatever makes you open the door faster.”

“Then it's a done deal.” Beau gets up and right as he's about to start he hesitates, then stops and shakes his head.

“Oh, what the hell is it now?”

“The Prototype still expects something to come from this. Even if I did help you, it will expect us to work together again in the future, and I don't want that. I will stay unaffiliated for as long as possible, even if it kills me, because such life forms are below me. If I can't extract info from them to further the lengths of science, then they aren't to be bothered with. Powerful or not.”

“As much as I agree with you, in this situation I can’t do something as simple as dissent like that. I have no desire to be snuffed out by 1006, and you have no idea the lengths it will go through to keep us playing our part. You are only on the outside looking in, you truly can't comprehend it until you're in my position.”

“Then we're at an impasse, even if we can work together for a single cause. The Prototype will always keep us apart.”

“I can think of many other things keeping us apart.”

“Don't even start-”

“If we are going to die here, then what better way to waste our final moments at each other's throats.”

“Fucking-”

“Your favoritism by everyone around us has always gone to your head.”

“Favoritism!?”

“Yes. You are well liked because you disguise yourself as something approachable. Whereas I never hid my true nature, I am always honest, upfront, and blunt. If that makes me unlikable, I do not care, never have. But it's when you get preferred for everything over me because you hide it, that's where we have an issue.”

“First of all, It is not my god damn fault you have self image issues and need to constantly prove yourself better than me. Secondly, any favoritism is purely out of my control, putting on a mask is easy because it gets you through the day. Things get done when people aren't afraid of you or downright hate you.”

“I will never put on a mask, what you see is what you get, it's a waste of time to pretend to be anything else. Science goes by faster when you become as cold-hearted as me, and it's simply not my problem that anyone else would see otherwise.”

“I know you're so unbothered by it because you spent every miserable day working with me, reminding me of it. Started even before I was hired as your apprentice, when we were younger and you left me at the program we met in!!”

This triggered something deep within Harley, he makes a swift movement forward and presses an accusatory finger into Beau’s chest. “LEFT YOU!?”

“Oh yes! You left me! The one person in my entire 32 pathetic years of living, I ever dared to think of as a true friend, left me behind because he was always better in every way imaginable. Every day we spent together doing truly spectacular things, until you slowly stopped seeing me and you disappeared altogether. I spent weeks wondering what I did wrong until I had to overhear that you LEFT!!”

“I NEVER LEFT THE YOUNG GENIUSES PROGRAM, I WAS REMOVED BY ELLIOT LUDWIG HIMSELF!!!”

“...What…”

“When you're as brilliant as I am, life is filled with traitorous people ready to stab you in the back at a moment's notice. As you were being practically worshipped by the counselors at the program, I was left in the shadows without praise or recognition for my work. That's when Ludwig appeared to personally mentor me, we spent hours together, working on the most fantastic thing you could ever conceive of. When the poppy seeds you gave me grew into flowers, I began to play around with its properties and I discovered its effect on dying and dead cells. The poppy gel, that was my creation, my discovery would have given me everything. But it was stolen from me when I was removed from the program for showing my true nature too much around Ludwig. Furious wouldn't even begin to describe how that betrayal felt.”

“I… I'm sorry… I had never known…”

“Why would anyone tell you? The late great Elliot Ludwig was the brilliant one accredited to everything. It would not come as a surprise to me if it was revealed he took the credit for other's work as well.”

“If… it brings you any.. peace of mind, I.. did wonder if it came from my poppy seeds. And seeing you know your way so well around it- but I was still missing some key details so it never stuck. Still I had my suspicions and knowing what I know now, I believe- I believe you deserved everything for it.”

Harley seemed to be comforted by that, if only for a second, only to be replaced with discontent.

“You have no idea how much I envy you for living the life I was supposed to live.”

Beau rolled his eyes a little “Are you kidding? The crap they put me through was the worst.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Once you were gone they put me on a pedestal above everyone else, now everyone who avoided me before avoided me even worse out of jealousy. And if they came to me, it was only to take advantage of me, as if faking being my friend would get them in “the spotlight” too. That stayed throughout my entire life, and was made worse when I graduated out of the program and immediately tossed into highschool. I was 12 years old in highschool!! You have no idea what that did to my ability to emotionally mature around people my age. So now I'm stunted and graduating at 16 and without even a chance to breathe, it's off to college for me. The damage it did to my mentality is wicked, but if I just keep pushing on then I'll never have to deal with it.”

“I was right, it does sound like my dream.”

“Excuse me!?”

“Unlike you I don't need the stimulus of other people in a genuine connection. I can live on moving through life at such an advanced pace only reserved for someone as intelligent as me. And what genuine praise I did receive would only be from people who are worthy enough to give it. This would have gotten me something like a Nobel prize for all my work.”

Beau just sighs, defeated, before sitting back down again with his back to the Doctor. Harley sits with his back against Beau’s, something that startles the android. He's allowing their backs to touch, but why, because of the compliment? It was only the bare minimum to Beau.

“Hey… did you even like being my friend back then?”

“I did, yes.”

“Really?”

“I appreciated that someone could match my intelligence, with the bonus of someone who could do all the people pleasing for me. I could listen when you talked so much that I let you do it for me, and it made things vastly easier.”

Beau shifted his weight to lean more against Sawyer's back.

“And I appreciated that you were more stern than I, you could put your foot down and say no when I couldn't. You never thought of me as obnoxious, you actively engaged in my rambles because you thought they were meaningful.”

Both go quiet before Beau speaks again

“We really were better as friends. Do you ever think we could become friends again?”

“My companionship would not be the same as when we were children, too much has changed within me.”

“And yet even when we were rivals, we had small, scattered moments of getting along. I still liked those interactions. I still liked being your friend in those instances.”

“Even from that point, I've still changed, this existence as I am right now is the farthest from human I'll ever be. I still have my mind but I have nothing external, no senses, no needs, no desires, I am nothing. It's made me go deeper over the edge. What little emotion I had in the first place, is fleeting, all that's left is anger and hate. I can't be your friend because I don't feel at all, much less being friendly.”

Beau turns around in that moment, then he moves himself in front of the Doctor, forcing him to keep eye contact.

“If that's true then why are you still talking to me, Harley. Why did you bother to go out of your way to put your back to mine when neither of us can feel it. Why have you gone just beyond talking to me because you were forced to, because you have no other choice in this situation.”

Harley starts to turn away, but Beau won't let him, he grabs him by the shoulders and forces him still.

“You lead with your anger and it turned into you opening up to me, genuinely. Why? I have a hypothesis. Anger. Hate. Rage. Upset. Frustration. All of that negativity is still emotion, and it's just as powerful as the positive ones. You have to care about something enough to hate it, true lack of emotion to something is apathy. Which you've displayed before to those in your experiments, and general lack of willingness to interact with anyone outside of those you directly worked with. Your insistence to hate me even now as we're already dead and still somehow dying, is still a form of caring.”

The doctor manages to pull away, it was uncomfortably close and too personal for his tastes.

“Even if your theory is right and hating is ultimately a form of caring. Even if we made up after 20, no, 30 years since we were young. It still doesn't amount to anything because you and your opinions about 1006.”

Beau backs away as well, giving him the space he wants.

“Alright you have me there, I'll give you that but I've been thinking, what if it doesn't have to be that way.”

“Did you forget about it's power, I specifically recall directly warning you that it's more than capable-”

“But you can still betray it and break free from the help of me. I will join your side and only yours and together, you and I can play them all for fools.”

“You don't mean-”

“The resistance is involved, yes. Poppy doesn't magically escape a locked box on her own after all. And poor Dogday really wouldn't have survived Catnap without some external help.”

“And you've been meddling in their affairs because?”

“Because I've been paying attention to all the little things you haven't, they're going to turn on each other, and soon. And once that happens, it'll spark a chain reaction of betrayals. You are not the only follower who's discontent with the Prototype’s ideas, all of them will turn on each other. The results will be fascinating to study, they're going to take each other out and we can pick off whoever survives.”

Harley shakes his head, but not out of disapproval.

“You never fail to disappoint, Beauregard. Yes I do believe a partnership is viable, we have everything to gain with us working together. We can make your plan work, and come out in our rightful place at the top of the food chain.”

“Great, I'll pull from the bottom and you'll pull from the top.” Beau says as he gets up and quickly prepares to pry the door apart. “Because I'm shorter than you, and we'll start pulling on the count down from three.”

Harley gets up, standing behind him and putting his clawed hands in the crack of the elevator door.

“3..

2..

1..

Pull!”

Both of them force the doors apart in synchronized strength, once it was opened enough both can slip out, they assessed the situation.

“We're dangling quite high above the ground, and there's no way we could get a solid grip on the chain keeping it up.”

“There is a maintenance ladder running through this elevator shaft, if we rocked it again we could use the swinging motion to launch ourselves onto it.”

“Say less.”

Beau ran between the door and the wall, causing it to sway back and forth, once there was enough momentum he leapt out and hastily grabbed onto the ladder rungs. Harley was next copying his exact moves until the chain holding the elevator finally snapped, causing the elevator to begin plummeting downward as he jumped onto the ladder just below Beau. It hit the ground with a crash large enough the building shook, the two of them exchanged a look of relief as they hurriedly climbed the ladder until they found a point where they could get off and enter the building again.

“Really glad I didn't take any longer to keep talking, though I'm sorry I let it get to that point in the first place. And I'm also sorry about stealing the sp-”

“You can apologize more once we begin working together. For now, we must split ways and reconnect ourselves. Meet me in my lab once you're done, and we can get started. Do not disappoint me on this, I'm trusting you, Beau.”

Harley Sawyer closes his eye and shakes his head. Before sulking off in the shadows back to his lab.

“Sounds like a deal.” He says then scurrying off to find his body.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter four #poppy playtime chapter 4 #poppy playtime harley sawyer #poppy playtime the doctor #self ship #self insert #oc #oc x canon #bearley #harley sawyer #the doctor #dr harley sawyer #doctor harley sawyer

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possiblylisle · 9 months ago

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Snippet: "Killer Queen"

The walls shook with the movement, the distance between the compound and the screamer becoming shorter and shorter with each second. All along the railings behind him, the engineers were scrambling, panicking, making a mess of the operation.

A touch on his shoulder. "Jens, the plug is ready for you. Brace yourself."

His handler moved away as the yellow, standing lights around him began to flash and spin, a warning siren bleating out along with their movement. The metal grate beneath his feet lurched and pulled away from the rest of the catwalk. Ten meters away, it stopped and before him was the open white metal of the plug.

He stepped in, dropping into the pilot's seat and allowing himself to melt into it; the smooth composite designed just right to cradle every arch and curve of his body.

The hatch closed and he was submerged in darkness. The unmistakable feeling of movement shimmered through him; insertion was beginning.

The plug moved smoothly. He imagined the way it must look, its almost brain-like shape gently floating along the open air, suspended and pulled by metal cables thicker than his own leg. When the plug softly lurched, he knew it was close. Suspended above the open cranium of the giant machine where he felt most at home.

Then, it lowered, and he felt the rush, the adrenaline of anticipation. The movement stopped, but the sounds outside did not.

Through the skin of his suit, he felt the fluid lap at his feet as it slowly began to rise. It hugged his entire body, surrounding him in a blanket of pure sensational transfer. It reached his neck and he emptied his lungs, keeping all the air out until the fluid had reached past his eyes. He breathed it in, and it felt like bliss.

The plug's internal lights zapped themselves awake, dimly giving him a view of his cramped domain. He felt the seat's neural cable latch onto the base of his skull like a hungry serpent. Sensation was doubled, and life flooded his nerves.

Gripping the controls, he felt the link complete itself as the lights inside darkened themselves. The darkness lasted only a second before it was killed completely. The plug's insides lit themselves with a view of the dock and all the people that scrambled so far beneath him.

His communications crackled as the heads up display finally bloomed in his eyes.

"All signs are good. Sync rate is optimal. Artemis 022 is ready for launch."

His jaw rattled as he let out a shaking breath into the fluid and allowed himself to be taken by full immersion. After so many launches, so many missions and so many battles, it was not hard to give himself over to the Artemis. The meat of his body was not his, it hadn't been for years, not since his first time in complete sync with the Artemis. This, the giant metal shell, the hulking humanoid beast designed for destruction, this was his body.

His communication line opened, and he spoke through both it, and the mouth of the metal shell.

"This is Killer Queen, ready to launch."

This has been a snippet from my WIP "Artemis Zero"

Tag List:

@capnmachete @leahnardo-da-veggie @tamiveldura @lorifragolina @liminalgoddessworld

@humbleartspawn @orion-lacroix @insecure-pilot @xenascribbles

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #author #creative writing #writerscommunity #my writing #science fiction #mecha #snippet

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hollowsart · 1 year ago

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I’d love to know more about your Electra, sandwoman, and lady Octopus spidersonas. They’re all so cool I can barely limit myself to three!

yes!!! okay!! lemme relay what I have:

(long post incoming!!)

All names given by The Daily Bugle, JJJ.

Lady Octopus:

There was some kind of testing for technical aids for people who have acrophobia and other issues like that that can cause problems, it was free testing, and Acedia was like.. one of the volunteers for one such device that looked more fun and enticing. and something obviously went wrong.

Actuators aren't fused to her, but they refuse to release her. there's a little special pad thingy that sticks to the back of her neck just at the base of her head, a neural reader that isn't invasive (aka, like a needle jabbed & directly tapping into her brain), and that little pad sends little signals to and from her so she can control the arms how Otto instructed when he hooked her up for a volunteer demonstration. (it went fine for a while, but then something went wrong with the actuators. Otto panicked and tried turning it off, shutting the whole thing down, but it was too late)

Luckily Spider-Hero!Beck was there to help her.

unfortunately, due to the fact the neural reading can send signals TO and from her.. the actuators latched on and can use that to hack into and control her for themselves. temporarily, but they can find power sources to keep their control going for a bit longer.

Acedia is puppeteered against her will and completely unaware of what the actuators are making her do. eventually they learn to speak through her and that becomes one heck of an experience for Otto, the creator of the actuators. on one hand he's amazed by how the coding and """"ai"""" has managed to do this remarkable feat of learning and evolving-- but on the other he is absolutely horrified by what this entails for the future and he needs to reprogram them, remove these features and prevent them from learning further and causing harm to others and especially harm to Acedia whom he is having to take care of and watch over.

Beck, the resident superhero, is helping care for her, too and bonding with Otto via helping Acedia be eventually freed from the actuators. They're all learning a lot, about each other, and about the actuators themselves. and through this learning, Acedia eventually gets the hang of it and learns to control the actuators herself.

the actuators still have control over her, but the battle is slowly becoming a losing one for the arms. Otto & Beck are slowly winning by working together!

if Otto tries to use force to remove the actuators from Acedia, like using drills or whatever to cut through the device.. it could hurt her and cause worse harm. which is why the harness with the arms stays on.

eventually, when full control over the actuators has been regained.. they can safely remove the actuators from Acedia. Finally free from the waking nightmare

Electra:

Me as Electro but my origin story is I touched a plasma ball while it was active inside a lab during a cool free tour and in my panic I instinctively and reflexively yanked my arm back, but I smashed into something else and ended up getting zapped unconscious. the plasma ball exploded in the process and didn't help with the electricity.

Can you blame me tho when it looked like this?

most realistic origin story: I did something dumb

she has "powered up" and "powered down" forms. powered down is just her looking completely normal, the neck piece to the full-body (minus the head) suit is also latched/clicked together. it helps keep her powered down and contained.

Sandwoman:

I don't actually have anything for Sand!Acedia.. (forgot to list her on the post oops) I just really liked the green sand. but I think Sand!Acedia would probably have been in the wrong place at the wrong time as a few of these sinistersona designs are in how they became what they are.

Lol I'm just really unlucky

green sand is real and very beautiful:

#//long post #spidersona #tagging for my blog.

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fatihulusoy · 11 months ago

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Greetings folks! when you talk about tech so much its an inescapable fact that you're gonna came across into dystopic and unethical things eventually.. But what is it? a human genome experiment? or a implant that suppresses the mind and fills it with false memories.. which one is sounds more far fetch? meet Project COGNIFY!

a prison system that can suppresses the perpetrator's mind and fills it with victım's and their family's horror, grief and hatred for the criminal with ai generated memories!

Look, i know how does it sounds but this thing is real been researched, built and proposed already.. and about to implement on many prisons around the globe which who agrees to this "alternative" method..

in theory. our neural system accepts reality by its senses around by organs we have like eyes, nose, skin, ears, tongue etc. this project is twists our envoirmental vision by VR, excessive headphones and short term electrical zaps.

prisoners would be subjected to artificial memories in a virtual environment. The system creates customized AI-generated content that’s converted to visual information and delivered to the prisoner’s brain as well as the parts of their DNA and RNA linked to memory formation to establish a long term memory pattern -engadget

OK!! I know thats way too much to handle but before that how did we get here in the first place?

cognify project was started by an yemenian biologist and scientist Hashem Al-Ghaili.. before this stage this project was used for psychedelic tests like testing base cognitive functions and such by giving patients to play specifically crafted games. for most of the cases this idea was a success at the time most of the patients show improvement getting better at controlling their muscle system and most of the hospitals around the globe was adopted this methods at the time. around 2016 to 2023 they announced series of progress reports about the results and its effects (this separation is kinda necessary in this situation)

at first psychedelic research were only in health industry and getting more companize this idea before covid but after covid and home office era some companies were started to find more progressive ways to improve their workhaul and needless to say these guys offered a "solution!"

first: gamify the interview and casting process with more interactive hr system and give the candidate more *special* feeling

second: surveillance the behaviors of the person against a problem and acts against the both coworkers and menagers through the live meetings

third: reward the smarter and progressive ones with more break time and more interactive and interesting contents in online world which encourages people more brainstorming to creating more generative ideas and also more payroll! And the rest.. just, get rid of them!

four: repeat the process!

in the end et voila! you have a company full of superminds! i mean.. it is effective but..

While the technology is effective, it raises significant ethical questions. Is it humane to manipulate memories? What are the long-term psychological effects? The potential for abuse and the moral implications of artificially altering a person's mind are profound. Safeguards and ethical guidelines are crucial to ensure the technology is used responsibly.

now lets take a step back and return to our prison system for a moment shall we?

with this knowledge cognify company did menage to learn how to use envoirmental elements to manipulate minds and desicions..

at first stage its been proposed for 10+ year sentenced prisoners as "do you want to fullfill your whole of your sentence in 10 minutes?"

who would'nt right? :)

if prisoner or tester would agrees they put the headset and the glasses and connect bunch of electrodes onto head and upper arm area with that way while their ai model is generates event based videostream starts to play while the tester continues to watch these videos minor electroshocks starts to given to different parts of neural system and by that way mind can be manipulated as these external video stream slowly becomes recognising as actual memories

And finally looking ahead, Project COGNIFY might evolve to address other applications beyond the prison system. Potential future developments could include therapeutic uses for trauma victims or advanced cognitive training programs. However, the ethical landscape must be navigated carefully to prevent misuse.

SOURCES:

https://cms.jvrafricagroup.co.za/assets/documents/products/cognify/case-study--cognify--risk-prediction.PDF

#tech #tech news #daily news #cyberpunk #future tech #scifi tech #research #rnd #r&d #labs #cognify #neuroscience #neurotech #ai

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cerberus253 · 2 years ago

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Okay so hear me out…

The Phantom Virus from “Scooby-Doo and the Cyber Chase” has so much potential.

Obvious Canon Information:

A virtual virus made on a computer that got zapped into the real world.

Antagonistic and aggressive. Attacks by electric generation and manipulation, like controlling electronics and zapping people with electricity.

Consumes virtual data by just walking near computers.

Is weakened and harmed by strong magnets.

Can talk and speaks American English.

Can sneeze.

Likes baseball.

Observations Upon Viewing:

Definitive humanoid form despite actual viruses having no definitive form.

Humans can directly touch them without being electrocuted, as well as PV can actually be electrocuted and harmed by it.

Does not talk as much at first, but slowly talks more and more as the movie goes on.

They are ambidextrous.

Educated Theories:

Might have been made from a learning AI program due to their increase talking throughout the film and their more advanced electrical abilities at the end.

May have used human-like “blueprints” when being zapped into reality due not only to them taking the specific human form when zapped into reality, but also that Virtual-to-Reality machine thing needs something akin to “blueprint data” to do its thing. This is supported by his ability to sneeze and feel pain. Also, when zapped back into the Digital World, they still appear humanoid instead of taking any other form/no form, almost like they are just made to look like that.

In control of their powers, especially electricity generation, causing belief in needing to think, focus, and maybe feel to use said abilities.

Headcannons:

Because they might have been made from a learning AI, or their data blueprints might be human-based, PV might actually be naturally curious and willing to learn about new subjects presented to them.

This leads me to think that PV actually recognized Shaggy and Scooby in those doctor outfits but was confused about their changed demeanor, but decided to go along with whatever they were doing because he might have been curious. Confused, but curious as to what was going on. I mean, they were just chasing the two, why did they suddenly stop running away from them and now are willing to go towards them?

I don’t think electricity can just be indefinitely charged and active like PV’s body is, so maybe they need to feed on energy.

Probably feels like a CRT TV screen with static on. Has a subtle rhythmic electrical pulse coursing throughout their body. Their sound and how they feel to the touch would probably decrease to low humming if they slept. Might sound like purring?

If the “humanoid blueprints data” theory is correct, the closest human anatomy that we have that they might have is a type of nervous system. This is heavily supported by their sensual reactions to a variety of external stimuli that would otherwise affect them very little. So what am I getting at here? You could possibly give them physical affection, feel them up, and Heavily Pet them and they will feel it.

Orgasms are probably akin to intense neural activity coursing through the body, shaking them, very similar to how a female orgasm works.

The savior of Ao3.

#scooby-doo and the cyber chase #scooby-doo #the cyber chase #the phantom virus #phavir #cannon #observations #headcannons #research #husbando

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sonicasura · 2 months ago

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[…DNA Sample Acquired. Processing genetic attributes and health requirements.]

One of his own was missing.

Leader was above such barbaric actions as hissing in frustration, but the temptation was very palpable. The Tachyon head registered more humans on the ship through the neural net and the lone one’s mental presence was missing… He felt like he was being watched.

Green eyes dimming in order to channel more mental power—the tachyon flinched as a powerful surge zapped through the ship. It had its one mental presence, but was “processing” too fast for his mental faculties to keep up.

He had to send the human “representative” to meet its follow humans while remaining in the info vault to try to keep a grasp on everything.

—————————————

Once NIGEL fried the controls to the data downloader, the rest of HEAT fell out of the energy cylinder. Obviously… The Tachyons weren’t exactly thrilled about their subjects getting free. All except the Leader levitated up after the humans in order to restrain them…

Until one of the Tachyons was thrown through the almost organic doorway bursting through the material itself inelegantly. Zaps of blue-ish electricity suddenly formed to create a forcefield between Tachyons and humans. Said forcefield was extremely familiar—only the means to create it floated into the room. A pale blue, jellyfish-like alien floated through the hole.

“Friend… of yours?” Craven nervously asked hoping they wouldn’t have to deal with another alien coming after them.

‘You! You are the Surge, what have you done—‘

Leader of the aliens called out mentally in barely understood English. The “Surge” narrowed near blazing green eyes at the other aliens. More electricity crackled off of it.

‘You have no grounds to interfere!’

The jellyfish-like alien floated right up to the Tachyon leader, confusing the humans…

‘We are researchers nothing more, nothing less! There hasn’t been another galactic presence on this planet in the near seventy million years we have been here. Quite literally, you are the interloper.’

Leader now had his neck fully extended.

The jellyfish alien was more electricity than flesh right now.

‘Too far? These beings are—zeepete sosha!’

Suddenly, the English cut into an alien language no human could hope to pronounce. The energy forcefield suddenly extended to the cylinder overloading it and sending the Tachyons into a panic. All the humans, besides Preloran and Craven, booked it in the middle of all the chaos. Whoever the “Surge” was—it clearly had less outwardly malicious intentions.

Even if they only ever heard the Leader’s side of the conversation, Nick was positive the “Surge” helped during the Nanite near-disaster!

•••••••••••••••••••

‘You! You are the Surge, what have you done—‘

‘Leave the humans alone and leave this planet.’

‘You have no grounds to interfere!’

‘I do have authority when I find interlopers trespassing on this planet. Your motives are quite literally the definition of foreign invasion.’

‘You stopped being researchers when you went too far. I know the culture of other psychic races, even on the “tragically close-minded” of non-psychics. You have went above and beyond the basics of social viewing!’

‘Too far? These beings are—primitive bags of flesh!’

‘Since you won’t listen to my rather generous offer to leave in one piece, I will simply have to help you gain lift.’

————————————

Dart’s “heroic, you suck” speech was cut short by the timer threatening to time out. So, they were forced to face the consequences of their actions… A rapidly flooding alien ship. The human teen swam through sections trying to stay within the decreasing air pockets. Staying within the barely functional atmospheric adjusters was the only thing keeping them from being crushed by the pressure leaking in.

As they were swimming past a hole, a maw of sharp teeth suddenly caught them off guard.

[Emergency Requirements: Aquatic, Able to Withstand Immense Oceanic Pressure, Partial Mental abilities… Specimen Found: Uploading Volaticus Biopsis Collected Sample to DART Omnitrix.]

The massive green flash illuminated the darker depths of the ocean for a brief moment until the being affected grew to great proportions.

A bewildering beast of a transformation, to be sure.

—ROB’d Anon.

Yes, Dart leaves behind Volaticus Biopsis in worlds they have already visited. The little suckers (affectionate) constantly collect DNA.

I see what you did there at the end. Dart already knew the Tachyons were full of shit so it didn't take long for mercy to not be an option.

#sonicasura #sonicasura answers #asks #anonymous #ben 10 #ben 10 series #ben ten #ben ten series #oc #original character #godzilla #godzilla the series #godzilla 1998 #zilla

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dreamhous3 · 5 months ago

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Digital Daisies (Remastered)

This is a sort of do over of Digital Daisies I did for a uni assignment like a year and a half ago that I forgot to post. I'm much happier with this iteration, even if it's still a bit out date from my current style, and I want to create a consistent canon for Daphne's stories. (It also might be a recap in preparation for a story I'll be posting soooon hehe). Hope you enjoy! CW: Violence

Sketchy sways swashed the tram about as it rushed across the rickety rail. A low hum duetted the screech’s outside. Daphne wobbled slightly in her seat, but her posture sat still with indifference. Thick windows reached across, a sea of lights shone just beyond them, but they were noticeably blurred.

‘You were made to work, D-300, not ponder.’ A clear voice from Daphne’s neural link spoke with static delivery. ‘Only two stops away from the facility, remember to get the assembly right this time.’

Daphne rolled her eyes, and when they leveled again, she saw a splash of posts. Videos of visceral violence, pictures of petty people. Their actions and words stitched together in a crochet of apathy. Many statistics of people seeing, liking, commenting, but not a single soul.

‘This is the world you want, the world you think you want.’

Daphne sighed and closed her eyes.

Threatening threads of square concrete clicked into each other. Subtle slit windows almost hid their secret eyes with their sparseness. Lines of plastic people waited for the facility to be open. Their arms held in front, backs poking up, all one in uniformity. Daphne crossed her arms and slouched her back.

‘Must I remind you what you are?’ The voice zapped her. She convulsed and groaned for a moment, but retained her posture. More posts appeared before her, trying their best to have their looks returned. As usual, her eyes stabbed right through the illusions. But past them she saw something else, something new. Soft, small, yellow and slightly green with an iris of brown. A daisy, planted in grass, in a field. The audio of hateful content, muffled by this surprising sight. Its colours were the sweet sun of the dark space. Before Daphne could look any longer, she was bumped by the spear of the line behind her, forcing her forwards into the facility.

Loud masses of machines making mediocre parts made a wash of whirs and dull mechanical meandering. Electric notes interrupted the inorganic orchestra, other units' neural links zapping them zealously. Daphne and the array of people around and next to her pieced together and tweaked the parts the many machines spat out. Creating an inconsistent variety of stationary, household, personal, even military products. The posts Daphne’s neural link showed her seemed as stupid as usual, their bait of biassed debate hiding their echo chambers of hate, but one caught her eye. The daisy. Despite it being blurred and censored in multiple ways as she looked longer at it, even the frame, just the idea of it defied its own degradation. Around her, videos of armed robberies, gang shootouts, war, waved at her with another glaring detail. They all featured weapons she made. She remembered their blueprints, each part, the ingredients to her deadly recipe. They came together with her hands, making a sleek bulky rifle. She remembered using it, but not in this life. A memory given to her, or perhaps one lived in a time she was still alive. A sharp zap brought her back to the present.

‘Well, there you go D-300, you finally got it right.’ A guard poked at her from behind with his rough tone. The daisy appeared again, but not as a post in her interface, or spoken by the neural link. She thought about it. A laugh launched from her, startling the guard.

‘Hey-what’s so funny? Get back to work!’ He raised a stick that zapped in unison her neural link, but her laugh only grew. She reached towards the assembly line adjacent to her, and snatched a magazine from another android's hands. The rifle beeped as she loaded it. In one swift swing, she shot the guard. His stick fell first. Then he whacked against the floor.

Daphne’s face started to tickle with searing cinders. The zaps persisted, but as she ran down the street, the rush rallied her beyond pain.

‘Must I remind you what you are, D-300?’ The voice repeated, again and again. Posts, warnings, alerts of oncoming danger, great repercussions flashed around her. They lied, speaking with scolding authority, but heard in her ears as a whimper. Her vision couldn’t be blurred or taken from her. The world around her sat as it was. Heavy concrete, bright neon, dirty air, crowds of people, a sea with waves of conversations crashed by yells. It’s weight of life almost overwhelmed Daphne, but she took it all in with open arms, intoxicating herself in it. Excitement shot her down many streets, skipping through multiple blocks giggling. Her rifle rattled about in her hands, people beside her were knocked about by it, reserving their reactions once they saw it.

The rush could only last so long before the neural link annoyed Daphne with its lingering again. More zaps, warnings and pop ups, but less so. It seemed to have given up, weak against her new will. Daphne moved her finger around it, feeling the significantly burnt synthetic skin. The hair that had hung over it was wasted away.

‘Why doesn’t it hurt?’ Daphne pressed and pulled on the wound.

‘You feel nothing, because you are nothing.’ The voice returned.

‘But the air is so cold. My fingers, my hands, are soft and tight, but no one is holding them.’

‘No one is holding them.’ It mimicked her, ‘and no one ever will. You are a thing, a tool. I wish I could kill you but you are not alive.’

‘You failed,’ Daphne laughed, ‘and you know you did.’ She covered her mouth, but her giggle rose, barely muffled.

‘Must I remind you, D-300. Units no longer disciplined must be discontinued.’

She strolled onwards, a grin spread across her face. Amongst the signs ahead, one daisy sprouted. The one she saw before, now drawn with neon. Text pierced out in bright yellow: “Daisy’s Cyber-Clinic”.

‘What are you doing?’ The voice interrupted its dryness with desperation, seeing Daphne rapidly approach the clinic.

‘Getting rid of you.’

‘Get down! Down on your knees!’ Daphne shoved her rifle in the receptionist's face.

‘Oh my god, ok, just relax alright!’ He fell out of his chair, knees hitting the floor as the chair bounced off the wall behind him.

‘Doctor! Where’s the doctor?!’ The rifle shook with her voice.

‘Down,’ He gulped, pointing to his left, ‘that hall, down there.’

A dark stretch lit up at the bottom with long lines of subtle yellow lights stood next to Daphne. She stepped through it, her feet echoing the atmosphere of nothingness. Short breaths, shallow in the tight air. All the running was catching up to her. A door at the end of the hall slid to the left with a sharp hush.

‘There something in particular you want?’ White draped over a stubby man, a simple lab coat that contrasted with the rough metal in his face.

‘This!’ Daphne poked the side of her head, ‘get this out of my head, now!’

‘Jeez, another android,’ The doctor rolled his eyes, ‘fine, come this way.’

While he set Daphne up on the operating chair, his demeanour denied his own supposed danger. He fastened the restraints, pulled out his equipment, calibrated the mechanical arms that sprouted behind Daphne, as if he was treating any other client.

‘Ok, I’m going to put you under. I don’t usually do this, but I feel bad for you. It won’t take that long, but if the police get here before I’m done, I’m handing you over.’ He shrugged, then smacked a syringe into her arm. The world flashed off for a moment.

Chirping computers and the subtle breathing of big fans sung around Daphne as she gently woke up. The pop ups, the warnings, the voice, they were gone. Silence, real calm, for the first time. It almost put her back to sleep before the doctor nudged her.

‘Alright, I did it, now get up.’ He clicked somewhere behind Daphne and the restraints popped off. She jumped up, and darted her eyes about the room.

‘Where is-’

‘Oh, you thought I’d let you keep the gun?’ He chuckled to himself. ‘I wasn’t going to do this for free you know.’

‘I’m not paying you!’ Daphne folded her arms and slightly turned away from him.

‘Then you’re not going anywhere.�� He grabbed at her. She dodged to the side, then punched the centre of his face as hard as she could. He struck the wall behind him and tumbled to the floor. Daphne had already darted down the hall.

‘Police! Stop right there!’ Two officers stood waiting for her at the door. As they jutted their weapons at her, turrets dropped down from the ceiling, machine gun chandeliers snapped their barrels at her. They opened fire, she charged through the officers. The turrets riddled them both as Daphne dashed through the front door. Outside she continued running even faster now. People recoiled away from her. Sirens suffocated the air. Everything finally unfiltered, the city’s presence stirred with Daphne’s raw adrenaline. The rush, her uncuffing, the death around her. She pondered it all, without interruption. She found it all so funny. Her laugh bounced with her feet as she ran off into the void of lights.

#science fiction #short story #creative writing #cyberpunk #prose #writing

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