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tastydregs · 2 years ago

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Turing Test Chinese Room and Large Language Models

AI-generated image (craiyon)

The Turing Test is a classic idea within the field of AI. Originally called the imitation game, Alan Turing proposed this test in 1950, in his paper ��Computing Machinery and Intelligence”. The goal of the test is to ascertain whether a machine exhibits intelligent behavior on par with (and perhaps indistinguishable from) that of a human.

Turing Test setup.

The test goes like this: An interrogator (player C) sits alone in a room with a computer, which is connected to two other rooms — and players. Player A is a computer, and player B is a human. The interrogator's task is to determine which player — A or B — is a computer and which is a human. The interrogator is limited to typing questions on their computer and receiving written responses.

The test doesn’t delve into the workings of the players’ hardware or brain but seeks to test for intelligent behavior. Supposedly, an intelligent-enough computer will be able to pass itself off as a human.

The Turing Test has sparked much debate and controversy in the intervening years, and with current Large Language Models (LLMs) — such as ChatGPT — it might behoove us to place this test front and center.

Do LLMs pass the Turing Test?

Before tackling this question, I’d like to point out that we are creatures of Nature (something we forget at times), who got here by evolution through natural selection. This entails a whole bag of quirks that are due to our evolutionary history.

One such quirk is our quickness to assign agency to inanimate objects. Have you ever kicked your car and shouted at it, “Will you start already?!” And consider how many users of ChatGPT begin their prompt with “Please”. Why? It’s a program, after all, and I could not care less whether you prompted, “Please tell me who Alan Turing is?” or “Tell me who Alan Turing is”.

But that’s us. We wander the world ascribing all kinds of properties to various objects we encounter. Why? Basically, this probably had a survival boon, helping us to cope with nature.

In 1980, philosopher John Searle came up with an ingenious argument against the viability of the Turing Test as a gauge of intelligence. The Chinese room argument (Minds, brains, and programs) holds that a computer running a program can’t really have a mind or an understanding, no matter how intelligent or human-like its behavior.

Here’s how the argument goes: Suppose someone creates an AI — running on a computer — which behaves as if it understands Chinese (LLM maybe?).

(generated by craiyon)

The program takes Chinese characters as input, follows the computer code, and produces Chinese characters as output. And the computer does so in such a convincing manner that it passes the Turing Test with flying colors: people are convinced the computer is a live Chinese speaker. It’s got an answer for everything — in Chinese.

Searle asked: Does the machine really understand Chinese or is it simulating the ability to understand Chinese?

Hmm…

Now suppose I step into the room and replace the computer.

(generated by craiyon)

I assure you I do not speak Chinese (alas). But, I am given a book, which is basically the English version of the computer program (yeah, it’s a large book). I’m also given lots of scratch paper—and lots of pencils. There’s a slot in the door through which people can send me their questions, on sheets of paper, written in Chinese.

I process those Chinese characters according to the book of instructions I’ve got — it’ll take a while — but, ultimately, through a display of sheer patience, I provide an answer in Chinese, written on a piece of paper. I then send the reply out the slot.

The people outside the room are thinking, “Hey, the guy in there speaks Chinese.” Again — I most definitely do not.

Searle argued that there’s really no difference between me and the computer. We’re both just following a step-by-step manual, producing behavior that is interpreted as an intelligent conversation in Chinese. But neither I nor the computer really speak Chinese, let alone understand Chinese.

And without understanding, argued Searle, there’s no thinking going on. His ingenious argument gave rise to a heated debate: “Well, the whole system — I, book, pencils — understands Chinese”; “Disagree, the system is just a guy and a bunch of objects”; “But…”; and so on, and so on.

Today’s LLMs, such as ChatGPT, are extremely good at holding a conversation. Do they pass the Turing Test? That’s a matter of opinion, and I suspect said opinions run the gamut from “heck, no” to “Duh, of course”. My own limited experience with LLMs suggests that they’re close — but no cigar. At some point in the conversation, I usually realize it’s an AI, not a human.

But even if LLMs have passed the Turing Test, I still can’t help but think of Searle’s room.

I doubt what we’re seeing right now is an actual mind.

As for the future? I’d go with management consultant Peter Drucker, who quipped: “Trying to predict the future is like trying to drive down a country road at night with no lights while looking out the back window”.

(generated by craiyon)

(and if they do have an actual mind one day — it won’t be like ours…)

I See Dead People, or It’s Intelligence, Jim, But Not As We Know It

Turing Test, Chinese Room, and Large Language Models was originally published in Towards AI on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

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archaneanscribe · 4 years ago

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Finally Taking the Trip to Jupiter

Vague spoilers for MGS4. Also xtremely fucking sad fair warning lol

“Snake... Dave?” Hal immediately corrected himself upon entering the room. The veteran’s (finally they could use that term, with there truly being no fights left to fight) request to drop the codenames they had maintained for nearly a decade had been a little sudden, but entirely understandable, “We think we’ve found a place to stay, for the moment. A nice house, close enough to a town that Sunny can go to school in, but far enough ouy most folks will leave us alone.”

David simply nodded- taking a deep breath that would normally be an intake of smoke into his lungs, but he was sincere in his declaration of quitting. Even if it wasn’t for very long, he could do that much for Sunny and Hal, after all this time. The tech wiz stood awkwardly in the doorframe, posture so closed in on himself David would see the gangly nerd he once was before he had started spending more time eating and moving around than seated in front of a computer.

He still did plenty of that, but years on the run had shifted the ratio considerably until just recently.

“Out with it, Hal,” he croaked out in a voice that was becoming increasingly unfamiliar to both of them. This seemed to shock his companion out of his own thoughts, and he finally moved closer.

“Ah, well, you see- what do you want for your last name, Dave? You know I’ll be formalizing Sunny’s adoption, which means we’ll finally be obtaining,” emphasis was put on the word, because in reality it meant forging, “papers for her, and I thought you’d probably be in need of some too. We can use whatever is on your birth certificate, but if you want to pick something out yourself...”

A smile formed under Dave’s mustache.

“I already know what I’m using.”

Hal perked up, “You do? What is it?”

With the same simple, to the point gruffness he would never quite be rid of, the one legendary soldier answered in a single word.

“Emmerich.”

All sounds except the Nomad’s machinery working overtime on her last voyage and David’s unfortunately heavy breathing ceased for an eternally long moment, Hal’s face journeying between every emotion he possessed. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes, and his attempt to stifle his sniffles failed.

He probably wouldn’t have admitted it at the beginning, but something David had always loved about Hal was his ability to keep crying. No matter the hardships he faced, the traumas, the evils and cruelties he bore witness too, he didn’t run out of tears. His compassion was a well that ran deep, and those tears were just a result of it overflowing.

“Dave...of, of course,” his expression betrayed some amusement past the waterworks, “Do you want me to list you as my brother, or-”

“You know exactly what it’s going to say, Hal.”

They both laughed now, such different sounds than it was just a year ago even. David had been sitting on the edge of the bed, and Hal had been across the room, but that distance closed as Hal kneeled on the floor, placing his hands on David’s knees. It was a gesture that David had previously classified as pitying, but he knew better, now.

It wasn’t for his comfort at all.

“Thank you, David.”

David had half a mind to ask what it was like to kiss an old man with a mustache, but they didn’t have the time for jokes like that anymore, so he just closed his eyes and enjoyed it.

---

The eyeroll David had given when Hal told him the name of the town they’d be living in was named Jupiter was so legendary it surpassed his previous exploits with ease. But, despite how silly it was, he couldn’t deny the warmth in his chest.

They’d gotten their trip to Jupiter, just a little late.

Jupiter, Washington, was as small as a small mountain town got. It didn’t even have an elementary school for Sunny to attend (she was bussed to the neighboring, larger town). Most residents were the descendants of the people who had first lived there, so their new faces stuck out for awhile, but they eventually concluded what was essentially the truth, albeit missing some key details, and moved on- they were just two retirees, hoping to live out what was left of the older one’s life in peace with their orphaned granddaughter, nothing exciting.

Hal laughed at how huffy David had gotten at the granddaughter comments.

For the first month, their time there was peaceful. Content. Happy.

The second month, David starting being able to spend less and less time out of bed.

In the third month, he took Hal aside.

“You should stop sleeping in the same bed as me.”

His husband was a genius, he knew exactly why, but he still asked anyway.

“Don’t make me say it.”

That he didn’t want Hal to wake up one sunny spring morning cuddling a corpse.

Tears were shed, as they always were, but he complied nonetheless. All of David’s belongings were transferred to the guest bedroom (Hal had tried to convince him to stay in the master bedroom, it was more comfortable, but David was adamant- that was where Hal would be staying in the future, and he didn’t want his ghost lingering in the air whenever he slept).

On the first day of the fourth month, right after sending Sunny off to school, Hal told him they were getting a dog for her.

“She loves those chickens, and I thought she might like another pet.”

“Or is it to replace me?” he asked, morbid mirth nearly buried under the pure gravel that had become his voice, “Seems to fit perfectly.”

Hal’s eyes, sad and weary, seemed to want nothing to do with this conversation, but he participated for his partner’s sake, “How so?”

“It’ll bark at strangers, bite the hand that feeds, and just generally be a pain in your ass.”

Despite himself Hal did laugh, not entirely bitter, “We’ll train it better than that.”

“Don’t train it too well. Won’t remind you enough of me.”

Fifth month, they had a dog. Rex, a joke on two layers- a name so common it was funny, and a reminder of one man’s shame that he’d never quite shake off. Not a husky, because while that would please David, they’d be keeping it long term and that level of energy just wouldn’t suit their needs. Rex was an adolescent Golden Retriever.

The dog of the American dream.

Almost like he could tell David wouldn’t be around long enough to justify getting attached, Rex mostly ignored him. The feeling was mutual.

Sunny loved them both dearly, and that was enough.

---

They had been there half a year, and Sunny made them breakfast. Her specialty, eggs fried to methodical perfection, toast just a little browner than anyone would like, maple sausage microwaved for ten seconds more than the instructions said just to make sure they were thoroughly cooked, and a glass of pulpless orange juice tucked precariously into the crook of her arm as she carried the meal to Uncle Dave’s bedroom.

It was two minutes after Hal watched Sunny depart from the kitchen that he heard a loud crash, glass and ceramic shattering, followed by Rex’s insistent barking and whining. He was on his feet and rushed to the scene, fearing the worst and finding exactly that.

“Oh, Sunny... Sunny...”

“U-Uncle H-Hal,” she barely managed through her cries. Rex, to his credit, ignored the food on the ground and nuzzled at her face, whining, confused and upset by the noises of unparalleled distress his beloved human was emitting. Stifling his own grief, Hal went over to the young girl and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.

He didn’t do a great job at holding that grief in after all.

“Sunny, Sunny, Sunny... I’m so sorry... I should have checked up on him when I woke up... It’s okay, Sunny...”

“H-He’s d-d-dead. J-Just,” her stutter was exacerbated by her choking sobs, “J-Just l-like my m-mother.”

The downside of having such a bright child was that you couldn’t shield them from life’s harsh realities that easily. There was no convincing Sunny that Uncle Dave was with the birds in the clouds, or any other such comforting tale.

He was dead and gone, and she knew that.

---

The gravestone read:

David Emmerich

Beloved father and husband.

All three of those titles were ones he had only worn for six months, but he had worn them with honor.•

#otasune #snotacon #jupiter family #sunny emmerich #hal emmerich #otacon #solid snake #mgs #mgs4 #metal gear solid #metal gear solid 4 #fanfic #fanfiction #suu's scribbles #this shit made me so sad to write i literally cried planning it #i have only watched most of mgs4 not played it thats why the spoilers are vague lol

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misiwrites · 4 years ago

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Beyblade Week Day 1

joining @beybladeweek2021 late but i’ll probably be doing these belatedly all may so, whatever! it is what it is.

i’ve never participated in a fandom challenge with writing before, but i was feeling adventurous this time and the seasonal themes were just perfect for the 4kingdoms AU-verse (which is this), i haven’t been writing much anything in so long that i’m mega rusty and thought i could use the bey week to do some warm-up oneshots. these aren’t going to be particularly interesting because i’m really bad at doing oneshots actually, but i like the idea myself and. that’s the only thing that really matters. right. (i’m not even sure if AUs are allowed for the beyblade week?? but the rules didn’t say anything about it so /shrug)

the day 1 oneshot is a little story from takao’s childhood about how he first met kyouju. this was inspired by my own childhood memories as the youngest sibling when i just wanted to hang out around my big sisters because i thought everything they were doing was Cool Big Sister Stuff.

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

Firsts / Childhood / Spring

”Takao! I’m trying to read this! Leave me alone already, will you?”

A groan of disappointment. Reluctantly, Takao backs away from his older brother by the desk, shooting him a frown of judgment and betrayal. Now, a quick change of tactics: he figures that, just maybe, Hitoshi allows him to stay in the room if he zips his lips to his best ability.

Wrong. Two silent minutes pass in the small study room until Hitoshi bellows at his brother again, swinging an arm in the door’s direction.

“I’m serious, you can’t keep doing this when I’m trying to do my homework!”

“I’ll just watch and keep quiet, I promise,” Takao insists, giving his brother his best puppy eyes.

“I can’t focus if you’re standing there! Now get out!”

Takao’s frown deepens; with heavy feet and a heavy heart, he trudges toward the sliding door. He doesn’t like this recent change in his brother, all this emphasis on what Hitoshi refers to as “important stuff”. Just because he’s now seventeen. Acting all high and mighty, pretending to be so adult and so important, too adult and too important to play with his younger sibling.

“It’s a very important time for your brother,” their grandfather responded to Takao’s fraternal laments once. “In one year, he will officially inherit the crown of the Seiryuu-ou. There’s much for him to do to grow into the role of the king before his coronation.”

Important this, important that. What about having fun, wasn’t fun important at all? And fencing – surely instructing Takao with the basics of fencing has to be important? Hitoshi’s fencing skills are second to only their grandfather’s, and Takao cannot imagine – doesn’t want to imagine – anyone else teaching him the art of the bamboo sword. And now Hitoshi is “too busy” to teach him, all of a sudden.

“But I’m boooored,” Takao whines from the doors, balancing his weight on his heels back and forth.

“How about you go study something too for once? You really should be reading a lot more than you do, you know. I don’t want my little brother to end up being a dumb prince who doesn’t know anything about the way the world works.”

Takao’s nose wrinkles in disapproval. The word “study” smells like old paper and dust and boredom.

“It’s the Sowmoon holiday now! And what the hell would I study?” he barks.

“Don’t cuss. Anything – whatever interests you. How about the history of the city?”

“Bahhhh.”

“The history of fencing, then. I don’t know – go to the library, take a look at the books or whatever, just leave me alone. I don’t have time for this.” Hitoshi lifts the yellowish document in front of his face and disappears behind it. A wall has risen between the two brothers.

* * * * * *

In the country of spring and year-round greenery, it’s difficult to stay sullen under the tranquil blue of the Eastern sky. Moments later Takao is skipping down the road that leads to the town of Tsuno below, his child’s heart already ignited with new-found hope and aspiration, his feelings of frustration shed by the sturdy wooden gates of the Cherrywood Castle and he's moving on, literally.

At first, the idea was dull at best; reading sounds like just about the flattest thing he could be doing on this beautiful Sowmoon day, a warm breeze blowing through his indigo hair as he carefully hops from one cobblestone to the other… but, in the end, it’s the wish to please his brother that has won him over. Now a plan is taking shape in his mind, the idea swelling like a balloon by each step he takes down the road, and soon his head is racing with the ambition of studying as many topics as he can think of; he’s dreaming up scenarios of impressing his brother with all his newly acquired knowledge, his brain buzzing and his proud heart thumping with all the imaginary praise from Hitoshi… and, just maybe, he’ll then agree to do something fun with his cool and smart little brother again.

So caught up in his daydreams, Takao hardly pays attention to all the familiar townspeople greeting him as he passes by their wooden dwellings and shops and stalls, and he prances past several flocks of tourists lingering on the streets of Tsuno, too busy taking pictures of the cherry blossom trees in their rare blue Sowmoon bloom to notice the royal prince walking right past them. Even if they did see him, not many would pay attention to him; people from outside the city would never imagine a member of the royal Seiryuu-ou family strolling around in a simple hakama without making a scene; but in the royal capital of the Country of East, this was a mundane everyday sight, and Takao was a regular guest of the pastry stalls on the main street of Tsuno. The townspeople loved to pamper this bold and friendly little prince, who hadn’t yet been spoiled by the privileges of the royalty.

Takao reaches the tall glass doors of the main library, only to face the reality of the numbers painted on the glass panel. Five minutes to closing time. So caught up in the rollercoaster of his imagination as he left the Cherrywood Castle, checking the opening hours of the library didn’t even pass his mind.

“Oh, hello, Your Highness,” he’s greeted by one of the kimono-clad library workers who spots him. (The surprise is evident; Takao is not a usual guest in the library.) “How wonderful to see you here. Are you looking for something?”

“Well, yeah, for something to read… but it looks like you’re about to close.”

But coincidence is on Takao’s side today, for the clerk tells him that the library is staying open for one extra hour every day this week.

“The reading hall has been reserved by Professor, a local researcher – but I’m positive he won’t be disturbed by Your Highness’s presence.”

“Really? Okay.” Relieved and triumphant, Takao enters the old-fashioned yet admittedly curiosity-inducing depths of the city library.

He quickly comes to the conclusion that he has underestimated the number of books in the world. Expecting there to be one of each subject of his admittedly limited academic imagination, he is instead hit by an entire universe of paper and ink and covers and words. The map of the library layout alone is full of complex characters that Takao hasn’t yet come across in his schooling.

Dammit.

In the end, Takao finds himself pacing back and forth a narrow aisle of local history books, looking for one with a cover that sparks interest. Perhaps he cannot read all the text, but at least he can look at the pictures.

That’s when he notices another person sharing the space with him, at the far end of the hall, where the shelves have been moved to hug the walls to make room for a reading area in the middle and the ceiling seems to climb up impossibly high under the arch of a dome roof. This person is another kid, hardly older than Takao, and he’s not paying the prince any attention in return; the boy is glued to the screen of a laptop computer that sits on a table in front of him along with several books, one of which has been spread open. Every now and then, his fingers dance across the keyboard at a speed that Takao didn’t even know a computer keyboard could be used with; then the boy crouches over to take a quick glance at the open book before turning back to the laptop again.

A curious sight. For a moment, Takao is tempted by the allure of calling out to this strange boy, to ask him why he’s still there after closing hours. He decides against it and swallows his curiosity. If there’s one thing that his older brother has recently taught him, it is to mind his own business and not bother other people hard at work.

* * * * * *

The next day Takao returns to the library, a pile of books in his lap that he leafed through all night last night. Hundreds of pages of buildings so old they probably stayed up in the pictures with willpower alone – so old that Takao half-expected them to crumble and disappear by the turn of a page, leaving empty picture frame squares behind.

He came to the conclusion that Tsuno’s history was perhaps not the subject to start from.

Takao returns the books, decides to try and find something about fencing, a subject he’s already in some way familiar with. (Between the important-looking books, he secretly slips in a story about Southern pirates; this one he’s not going to tell Hitoshi about.)

In the hall with the dome ceiling, the kid with the laptop is by the exact same table again. Only the array of books next to him is a little different… maybe. Takao is nearly seized by his curiosity again, but something about the air around this boy holds the lingering scent of “do not disturb”, so he bites his tongue once more.

* * * * * *

How could even books about fencing slap him in the face with all this wall of text?! The following day Takao once again turns up at the library, to return his previous findings that had only briefly managed to capture his interest with images of old fencing gear that were not only ancient but, as he ultimately decided, very ugly and stupid-looking.

What about archery, the other national sport of the East? Takao finds it boring and repetitive compared to fencing, but since books about fencing turned out to be boring, did it mean that books about the boring sport were, in turn, more interesting? It makes perfect sense, in Takao’s eight-year-old mind.

However, as he makes his way to the library at the cusp of closing hours again, he no longer pays much heed to the books. Instead, his feet take him to the reading hall under the dome right away.

Sure enough, the kid with the big round glasses and a laptop in front of him is there in his usual spot, all alone. And again the boy’s fingers are hammering at the keyboard faster than Takao can form a coherent thought about computers, the strange machinery that originates from the technically advanced Country of West for all he knows.

It’s been three days now, and Takao can no longer hold back his burning curiosity. Eyes on the strange boy, he takes small sideway steps between the bookshelves, inching his way closer and closer, until he reaches the open reading area under the arched skylights above.

“Hey,” Takao says as he enters the boy’s proximity by the table.

The boy doesn’t do as much as raise his eyes from the computer screen.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he asks, still typing away. The tone of his high-pitched voice is just slightly aggravated but his choice of words oozes formality, a strange speech pattern for someone his age. It throws Takao off a little.

“Umm, I’ve seen you here every day this week and was wondering what you’re doing, that’s all. You know the library was already closed, right?”

After saying this, the thought then passes Takao’s mind that perhaps this kid never leaves the library. Perhaps he’s not even aware that he’s in a closed library. What if Takao is talking to a ghost, haunting this remote corner of the library all day and night? Or, maybe, he’s nothing but a product of Takao’s imagination?

The boy’s voice is now so blunt in response that these phantasmagoric thoughts immediately vanish from Takao’s mind.

“Yes, of course I know. The library personnel was very kind to allow me this one working hour without other people disturbing me. So really, I should be asking – what are you doing here?” Now the stranger’s hands finally leave the keyboard and he lifts his eyes to Takao.

A moment of confused silence. Then the boy’s face begins to resemble the colour of a strawberry.

“Oh!” he squeaks and jumps up to his feet, only to bow his head toward the floor. “Oh, Your, uh, Your Highness! I am terribly sorry for being so rude! Oh, goodness me, how could I…!”

“Wow, calm down,” Takao interrupts, startled himself by the suddenness of the boy’s reaction. “And raise your head – I don’t like people bowing at me, it makes me feel weird. More importantly, what you said just now – are you saying you booked this extra hour from the library?”

Hesitantly, the boy straightens his back, which doesn’t increase his height significantly; now that they’re standing next to each other, Takao notices how small the person he’s talking to is, his head barely on level with Takao’s shoulders.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he says. “I wasn’t aware I was sharing it with the royal family, though. How thoughtless of me.”

“No, well, I kinda just walked in on my own, to be fair. So… you’re a researcher?”

“You could say so, I am indeed carrying out some research here. My name is Saien Manabu, but everyone calls me Professor.”

“Oh, wow. What exactly are you researching?”

“Right now I am writing a paper on the goddess cult of the Country of North. I know, it’s not exactly a topic that interests most children, but I find it so terribly fascinating…”

The mention of children – a nod to the fact that this boy, too, is a child just like him – makes Takao immediately feel more at ease. This person, albeit strange and overly formal and clearly too smart for his age, really is just a child after all. This notion alone is enough to make the kind-hearted and fairly simple-minded Takao like this boy more.

“Sure, that sounds cool,” he says with a grin. “Hey – you said you’re Saien, right? Like that ramen shop on the main street?”

“Yes, it is owned by my parents.”

“Well, it’d be real interesting to hear more about your research and all, but I’m kinda hungry, to be honest – the Saien noodles sound awesome just about now. How about we go there and then you tell me more?”

“Hmm. Well, I wasn’t making as much progress today as I wanted, in any case.” The boy, visibly at least a little relieved to get a break from staring at the screen, slams his laptop shut and tucks it under his arm. Then he flashes a friendly smile at Takao. “Very well, Your Highness. But my mother may pass out if I bring a member of the royal family to their shop all of a sudden, so please prepare for that.”

“Bah, just call me Takao, I’m not so into that formal stuff.”

“Alright, and you can call me Professor.”

* * * * * *

Once back in the Cherrywood Castle, Takao told both his brother and grandfather how much he’d learned about the Northern goddess Hiromi of time and space already; and from that day onward, Hitoshi never needed to refer to his younger brother as the dumb prince again, as Takao, who became a frequent visitor of the Saien family ramen shop both inside and outside business hours, never ran out of curious stories to share about all the things he learned from his new friend.

And while the royal Seiryuu-ou family wasn’t to stay together for much longer from the moment of this story, Takao and Professor remained best friends for many years to come.

#my writing #4kingdoms stuff #LetItRip2021

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feeling-weirdy · 4 years ago

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If you’re accepting prompts for the sitcom tropes, might I ask for a ‘weird pregnancy cravings’ one? Would have loved to have seen that in Wandavision, especially bc we saw in CA:CW that Vision can struggle a bit in the kitchen 😂🥰

"And you’re sure you don't want any help?" Wanda asked, a small yet teasing smile danced across her lips as she leaned against the table. The soft chuckle that escaped from her lips giving away just how much she was enjoying watching him fumble around.

"I have got this." Vision turned the knob on the stove with confidence, officially preheating the oven as he glanced over at her. "It is the husband's job to take care if his pregnant wife. I think I can handle a simple dish." He scrunched his face, looking at the ingredients he had laid out for himself. Clicking his tongue and taking a deep breath, his eyes scanned the recipe from top to bottom. This...did not seem right...

When Wanda cooked it seemed so easy...he had assumed that with his super computer brain this would be a cake walk. Vision had clearly jumped in way over his head, but the desire to provide and not lose face prevailed.

Wanda leaned against her hand, gazing at at him as he struggled. “You know...you sure are cute when you’re stumped.”

“I am not stumped. I have got this.” Vision repeated the mantra to himself in an effort to convince himself he actually knew what he was doing. It wasn’t working, but he was determined to pull this off without Wanda’s interference. “You...” He pointed at her, winking with a quirky grin. “Do not move.”

Wanda sighed happily, deciding to focus her attention on the bump instead of how ravenous she had become.

“It won’t be much longer that we’ll be having to cook for three.” Her chipper sing-song voice filled the room, her excitement for the coming addition pouring out of her. The very thought filled Vision with joy.

“Thankfully we’ll have plenty of time for me to learn how to do all this before he or she becomes old enough to actually enjoy it.” He was determined to get this right, but without the ability to taste, his efforts had been fruitless. Still, he pressed on.

“I wouldn’t worry yourself over it. I really can handle things on my own.”

“Oh I know you can, darling, but what kind of husband would I be if I left all the work to you.” Grabbing different ingredients and forcing them together, Vision constantly checked the recipe card to make sure the was doing this correctly. As far as he could tell, he was. That had to count for something.

“Seeing as how you don’t even eat, I doubt anyone would blame you.” Wanda ran her hand over her large stomach, beaming with joy. She offered a side eye to him from across the room, shaking her head at how stubborn he had become.

“Oh hush. I’ll figure this out, just you watch.”

Vision focused on the card that sat on the counter, following every instruction to the letter. By the time he was done, the pulled pork he had put together actually looked somewhat edible. A bit burnt, but given that this was his first time actually doing something like this he felt he could be given a pass.

Plating the dish he had prepared for her, Vision carried the plate over to the dining room table and placed in front of her.

“Dinner is served, my lady.” Vision bowed slightly, motioning himself in a grand fashion as he placed the plate down in front of her. A wide cocky grin sliding across his face as he watched her out of the corner of his eye.

“Oh well thank you, good sir.” Wanda beamed, taking a moment to fully appreciate the meal he had created for her, smiling proudly down at the plate. Though...the more he watched her, it was difficult to tell if it was actually pride or concern.

“Well?” Vision raised his eyebrows, taking a seat beside her.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda grabbed her fork and put a bite in her mouth. She sat quietly for a moment as a thought dawned on her. “Oh, you know what would go great with this?” Wanda quickly stood, moving about the kitchen, grabbing the vanilla ice cream from the freezer and some sort of lime caramel sauce. Dutifully sitting back down her chair, Vision watched as she destroyed the meal he had worked so hard to prepare for her. His face contorted as he watched her dress the meal and dig in.

The fact that he was unable to eat had never made him feel more relieved.

Wanda hummed happily as she ate, scooping the monstrosity into her mouth one bite at a time. She was almost cute if what she was eating didn’t look like some sort of carcass.

“Thank you, darling. That actually wasn’t too bad for your first attempt.” Wanda paused for a moment, choosing her next words carefully. “But lets just leave the cooking to me from now on, alright?”

Vision sighed, a soft smile crossing his features. “Whatever makes you happiest, sweetheart.”

Check out my other drabbles here or feel free to request some!

#scarletvision #wandavision #the vision #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #rini drabbles #sitcom au

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mayraki · 5 years ago

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The Trained Assassin.

Spencer Reid series. Part 1.

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Summary: Life’s not easy when you found out that instead of being trained to be a spy for the CIA, you are being trained to be an assassin, a killer. The people you wanted to stop, they were making you one. That’s when you joined the BAU to become someone new, you didn’t want to be someone’s toy. You wanted your past to be errased, that’s all. But it’s not easy to hide a past like that.

“The First Case”

You could felt your heart beat faster than normally when the lift to the BAU building started moving. You closed your eyes and the face of your previous boss came in front of you, you opened them as fast as you could, anger was not the feeling that you wanted to feel right now.

The lift made a noise letting you know that you arrived at the floor you wanted, the doors opened and the noises of keyboards typing and phones ringing came into your ears immediately.

You stepped outside the lift and walked to Hotchner’s office as you were instructed when you talked to your old friend. When you were walking you felt a lot of eyes on you, but didn’t put much thought into it, you were used to that.

But Doctor Spender Reid was no used to that, the fact that a total stranger walked into the floor like she knew the place, caught his eyes. You looked interesting, like you were hiding something, someone mysterious and that’s why he couldn’t takes his eyes off of you.

You knocked on the door and you heard a “come in” from inside. Once you opened the door Agents Hotchner and Gideon appeared in your sight. Hotchner stood up from his desk and came to you to give you a big hug.

“Hi, y/n” he said after letting you go.

“Hi, Hotch.” You said with a smile “it’s good to see you again. And you too, Gideon”

Guideon hugged you with a half smile on his face. “I’m glad you’re here”

You nodded and sat down at the chair Hotch pointed.

“You’ve grown” he said.

A half smile appeared on your face and looked down “I lot has happend since we last saw each other”

It’s true.

A couple of years had past since you worked on a case with Agents Hotchner and Gideon, you were 21 and now, 25. Since then you three didn’t see each other face to face but kept in contact in case the BAU needed your help or your... special abilities.

“I’m sure you’re gonna fit well with the rest of the team, they are good people and they’re not much different from you” Gideon said and when it took you a second to give a response, he noticed and added quickly “different stories, same motives” You nodded with a half smile.

“And don’t worry, we didn’t tell them anything. Is your story to tell if you want.” Hotch said and I gave him a half smile.

“Thank you”

“We have a meeting to discuss the next case in ten minutes” Hotch said “you can set you stuff in your desk in the mid time.

“Thank you, Hotch” You stood up and once Gideon left the room you said “seriously, for everything”

“You know I always wanted you on the team, you’re one of the greatest.”

When you left the office and walked down the little stairs, you searched with your eyes your desk and in a matter of 5 seconds, you read the name “y/n y/ln” on a peace of paper on one of the desks.

You put the box that you were carrying since you left your car on top of your desk, when you realized you didn’t have much of “your stuff”. You didn’t want anything from your life to be remembered. Just... one thing.

You opened the box and the only thing that could bring you joy on this time was on a picture with a big smile on his face. Your little brother. You grabbed the picture and tapped it to the side of your desk. You missed him.

When you put the box aside, you felt a set of eyes on you. You looked to your left and a guy with glasses on was staring at you, but as soon as you looked at him, he went back to the book that was on his hands.

“Everyone on the meeting room” Gideon walked fast to the room followed by Hotch.

Once you were on the room, the eyes of 5 people were on you.

“Guys this is agent y/ln, she’s going to be a part of this team from now on. We can have the introductions later on, we have to talk about the case immediately��

“Three woman were found dead in the matter of three weeks in a small town from Ohio” A blonde girl said when she gained everyone’s attention “the local police wants us because they think that they have a case of a serial killer.”

“And why’s that?” The big man sitting next to you asked.

“The three bodies had the same cut on their stomachs,” she pressed a little controler that she had on her hand and the pictures of three stomachs showed on the big screen “they all have the letter “X”

“Looks like the killer took his time” the other lady that was sitting down said “look at the lines he carved, they are perfectly cut, not a single one is bigger that the other one”

“On the stories of pirates, they used to put an X on the treasure, maybe he thinks them as treasures?” The guy with the glasses that was looking at you before said quickly.

“Maybe” Hotch said.

“If we are talking about a serial killer, he has the same tarjet.” You said without looking away from the pictures “They are all woman on their 40’s, blonde, and for the look of their clothes, with money. Maybe he hunts them, he stalks them for a while, and when he kills them he puts a an “X” on their stomachs like “treasure found” you finished your sentence and felt all the looks on you. A silence came into the room and to break the tension you said with a half smile “Did I said something wrong?”

“No” the guy with the glasses said quickly. And when he noticed the way he said it he cleared his throat “that was good.” He moved uncomfortably and stood up. “Are we ready?”

Hotch nodded “the car leaves in ten minutes”

Spencer hoped no one noticed his behaviour back there, but he would be a foolish to think that in a room full of profilers. That’s when Agent Morgan appeared next to him putting his arm around his shoulders.

“What was that all about?” Morgan said with a smile playing dumb, because he knew exactly what was happening.

Spencer didn’t look at him and kept putting his stuff on his bag “What was what?”

“You have a crush on the new agent” he said with a bigger smile.

“What?” his voice went high pitch “No I don’t, what makes you think that?” He said while putting his bag over his shoulder, making Morgan let his shoulders lose.

“Oh, c’mon, pretty boy. You should ask her on a date”

Spencer started walking towards the lift followed by Morgan, and now Garcia.

“What are you guys talking about?” she asked.

“I just said that I think Reid should ask the new girl on a date”

“On a date?” Spencer said “I barely know her. You’re crazy”

“Well, that never stopped me” Morgan said with a smile winking at Garcia.

Once everyone stood inside the plane, you felt it turn on and slowly starting to move.

You opened the case file and started to read it, when you felt a body sat down next to you.

“I’m Derek Morgan” the big man said when you looked at him.

“Nice to meet you” you said with a smile.

“Is it time for the introduction?” A voice inside the computer that was in front of Agent Morgan talked and suddenly a blonde woman appeared. “I’m Penelope Garcia” she said with a big smile and you noticed all the jewellery she was wearing.

“I like your necklace” you said with a half smile.

“Oh! Thank you! That’s so sweet”

“I’m Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ” the blonde girl who talked about the case sat down infrot of you.

“I’ve seen you on TV a couple of times, you’re good”

“Thanks” she said with a smile but you noticed that she was not expecting the compliment.

“I’m Emily Prentiss, nice to meet you” she shaked your hand and smiled. “I’m sure you will feel comfortable in no time”

“I’m sure I will” you gave her a half smile.

You looked around to see if everyone introduced themselves but the guy with the glasses was very focus reading the case file. You noticed that his finger was moving quickly on the paper.

“And he’s Dr. Spencer Reid. And yes, he can read that fast.” Morgan let out a little laugh and Spencer looked up from his file.

“Ah, Yeah, nice to meet you” He said and went back to the file.

Morgan and Garcia gave each other looks and you felt confused.

“How did you ended up in the BAU?” Emily asked once she sat down across from you with a coffee on her hands.

You had an answer prepared for this kind of questions, it was not the full story, but neither a lie.

“I worked with Agents Hotch and Gideon a couple of times, I always wanted to work with the FBI, and when I found out that there was a spot for the BAU I didn’t hesitate”

“How old are you when you started? You look kinda young” Morgan said.

“I worked on my first... case when I was eighteen. Now I’m 25” you were tempted to say “mission” but remembered quickly that you couldn’t just say that and pretend that they were the same thing.

“Wow, you started really young!” Garcia said on the screen “Are you a genious like Reid?”

“No, I’m not” you said with a half smile “I just... started way to early”

“You heard that pretty boy?” Morgan said loud enough so Spencer could heard him “your spot for the baby on the team has now been compromised”

Everyone laughed and Spencer just let out a simple “Mhm” while still reading the case file.

What’s up with that guy?

****

The three days that you were on Ohio went flying, it felt like hours instead of days. But the case wasn’t finished. The profile was done, but he was fast, always a step before the team. But then he made a mistake, that’s the opportunity to catch him.

Garcia was good, she found the name of the serial killer faster that you could ever imagined, you never worked with someone like that.

You were at his house, ready to go in, with Morgan and Spencer at your side.

“He’s not here, he’s not at his job” Gideon said on the communicator that Morgan had on his shoulder, “are your ready to go in?”

Morgan looked at me and I nodded, same did Spencer.

“Yeah” He said to the communicator.

“Ok. Keep me posted”

You three approached the door and once you were all on you positions, Morgan knocked the door down and you walked in.

“Clear” Spencer said in the kitchen.

“I’m going to check the back yard” you said and Morgan nodded.

“He’s not inside the house. We are right behind you” you nodded and headed to the door that lead to the back yard.

Once outside, you noticed a leaf moving on the right side, but there was no wind. You got closer and before you could think of anything you felt a body crashing into you pushing you back.

“Hey!” You said and ran after the man.

You heard Morgan and Spencer behind you, but you were faster, being able to pass the man, put your hand on the wall next to you and push your body upwards, hitting the running man on his neck with your knee.

“Nice...” Morgan said tying to catch his breath while you put the man on handcuffs.

“Thanks” you stood up and heard Morgan talking to Gideon.

Once the whole team were back on the police stacion, you decided to stand alone outside. It was something you did after you finished a case. Being a able to think something else that wasn’t the case, that wasn’t murder... it was something you were grateful for. Those moments.

You hear the voices of your team talking and the fear of them finding out your past came into your body. Not a lot of people can pull off moves like the one you did before, they are profilers, they are smart to figure it out. Why did you think that this was gonna work out?

You sighed and closed your eyes when you felt a body stood next to you.

“Hi” Spencer said with a half smile.

“Hi” you repeated the action he did.

“You ok?” He said with a concerned face.

Wait... he didn’t even look at you when he introduced himself, didn’t even talk to you when you were on the case and now he’s concerned? What a strange man.

“I’m ok. What about you?”

“I’m fine. Used to it.” He put his hands on his pants and you noticed that he was trying to say something. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something but he closed it. Yes, Spencer was trying to ask you something, but he didn’t find the courage to do it.

After a couple of sencods, he finally said “that was a good move you pulled before”

Your nerves were going way up, but you kept it cool because you knew if you showed a little bit of it, he would noticed it.

“Thanks...”

He was trying to find the confidence he had deep down there, he knew he had a lot of it, but somehow you made him feel like the most insecure man of all time. It was the way you talked, the way you moved your eyebrows when you were thinking, it was the little things he thought they made you so interesting, he wanted to read you like a puzzle, but not like the ones he did every day, you were different. He tried to think like Morgan, how does he do this all the time?

“Do you think that maybe... you would want to grab coffee sometime?” He didn’t knew how he got it out, but he did, and he was glad he did.

The question took you for surprise, and now the fear of them knowing your past turn into... happiness?

“Are you asking me on a date, Dr. Reid?” You said with a smile.

“Uh... yes... maybe, if-if you want to?” He was nervous, you could tell and that made your heart skipped a beat.

“Sure, whenever you are free” you said.

“Yeah?” He said a little bit surprised and happy that you said yes.

“Yeah, it’s a date”

“It’s a date” he nodded and both of you went back inside, with the rest of the team.

PART 2

#spencer reid x you #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds #imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubbler #badass #assassin #trained assassin #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction

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krustywhore · 5 years ago

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a language in itself // moreid

inspired by this doodle by @owlpip / @owlpipscribbles and i just had the cutest idea when i saw it so naturally i wrote this little one-shot<3 fig i hope you like it

Spencer, who was arguably not-so easily frazzled, was currently debating whether or not to lose his shit in front of all of his new coworkers. It was his first day at the BAU, for Christ’s sake, and he was seconds away from making a complete fool of himself in the middle of the bullpen.

With nearly a dozen books in his arms, the arm of his glasses held firmly between his teeth, and a to-go cup of black coffee balanced precariously on top of the stack, he was an accident waiting to happen. He passed interns and desk agents coming and going as he headed to where he was told to meet his new boss, but it was only a matter of time before his adamancy in taking only one trip from his car came back to bite him.

If he had known there was a thick bundle of computer cables wired under the carpeted bullpen floor, he would’ve made it to his new desk without a single problem, but his scuffed Chuck Taylor’s immediately caught the bump of wires and before he knew it books were tumbling to the ground and his full cup of coffee had emptied itself all over…a very attractive man.

Fuck.

His glasses were in his lap, thankfully unbroken, but he hastily put them on only for the blurry man above him to get somehow more handsome.

As if the situation couldn’t get any more humiliating, his face went bright red and he fumbled trying to collect everything off the floor.

“Hey, hey, slow down kid,” the man spoke, making Spencer freeze on his knees, looking back up. “You okay?”

He was certain his heart was seconds away from beating out of his chest.

“Me? I…I’m the one that just spilled hot coffee all over your shirt,” he laughed nervously, wanting to melt into the floor and disappear forever. “I’m so sorry-“

The man laughed and somehow even his teeth were perfect when he smiled.

“Don’t worry about it, pretty boy. One of the benefits of this job is carrying spare clothes around in case we end up skipping town,” the man smirked, picking up some of the scattered books and stacking them up on a nearby desk. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Spencer shook his head, still blushing as he felt multiple sets of eyes on him from around the room. He just hoped none of them belonged to his new boss.

“Good, well, I’ll take these for you if you’ll show me where your desk is,” he offered, a dark coffee stain still clear as day in the middle of his navy blue shirt.

Spencer followed uncomfortably behind him before pointing to an empty desk in the corner of the bullpen opposite another desk with a fair spread of files and picture frames adorning it.

“No kidding,” the man chuckled, dropping the stack of books on the desk. “I guess we’re desk neighbors, pretty boy.”

Spencer choked, coughing until he regained his composure as his handsome apparent-coworker pounded on his back to help him.

“Thank you,” he choked out, his throat still groggy. “I…I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

The man’s casual smile dropped and he took on a serious look.

“What do you mean?”

Spencer fiddled with the buttons on his cuffs, thoroughly embarrassed enough for one lifetime.

“I mean that I just spilled coffee all over you and humiliated myself on my first day and…and I clearly don’t belong here if I can’t even make it an hour before causing a disaster, but you’re just so…so nice and historically, guys like you are never nice to guys like me, but you are! And…and I can’t possibly fit in here, I don’t know what Gideon was thinking-”

“Hold up, Jason Gideon? Holy shit, you’re the one he’s been telling us about!” He looked like he was completely gobsmacked, looking Spencer up and down multiple times to the point where the younger man was getting concerned.

“I guess so…?” He explained shyly. “Why, did he not tell you I was twenty-two?”

The other man rubbed the back of his neck and glanced down at his shoes.

“No, no it’s not that it’s...,” he paused, smiling as if he was nervous. “It’s just that I was going to ask you out before I knew we were would be working together.”

Spencer did a double-take and just…stared.

“You…w-what?”

His older counterpart smiled.

“I know it’s technically against the rules but…I would love to take you to get a replacement coffee sometime,” he smirked, leaning up against Spencer’s desk. “What do ya’ say, pretty boy?”

Reid definitely wasn’t any more prepared for the nickname than he was before, but somehow when it followed an invitation for a date, it felt more genuine.

Not that he had ever been asked out before, and especially not by anyone as attractive as the man in front of him.

“I-I don’t even know your name,” he mumbled, desperate for any excuse.

“Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan, at your service,” he grinned, reaching forward to grip the short length of necktie that poked out from underneath Spencer’s sweater vest. “And you are?”

His heart was beating so fast and his head was spinning so dizzyingly that he almost didn’t register the response until it hit him hard.

Derek Morgan.

Fuck, even his name was sexy.

He flushed bright red at the even closer contact and how closely their faces were. Surely Derek wouldn’t do anything in the middle of the office but…but something told him the other man didn’t much care.

“D-Dr. Spencer Reid,” he stumbled, barely getting the words out of his mouth in what was more of a breathy whisper. He nearly blocked out everyone else in the room as his eyes just latched onto Derek’s and refused to look away. “And…I would love to get coffee with you, but I’m paying. Since, you know, I probably just gave you at least a second-degree burn from the last one.”

The beautiful man—Derek, his brain supplied—laughed heartily, his deep brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he reluctantly let go of Spencer’s tie.

“You drive a hard bargain, Doc,” he teased, circling around to his desk only to pull out a small duffel bag from which he produced a light gray henley shirt. “How’s lunch today sound?”

Spencer smiled as the older man began walking backwards slowly, not looking away until he got his answer.

“You know where I’ll be,” he answered, pleasantly surprising himself with his own ability to be coy.

Derek shot him one last smirk before disappearing down the hallway and Spencer was left absolutely dumbfounded by the conversation he’d just had.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled under his breath, sliding off his satchel and depositing it on his desk chair before following the signs to where Agent Gideon’s office was located, as he had been instructed to stop by upon arrival.

His hands were shaking and his heart was still pounding and he was sure that Gideon was going to comment on how red he knew his face would still be, but he was practically floating on cloud nine as he sat down with his pseudo-mentor.

“Spencer, did something happen? You look…stressed,” the older profiler spoke as he stepped into the room. He shrugged in an attempt to be casual, not really wanting to discuss his romantic life with Gideon of all people. Especially when it involved someone they both worked with.

“No, nothing, I guess I’m just excited,” he lied through his teeth, hoping the man who studied behavior for a living and knew him like his own son couldn’t tell he was definitely blowing smoke.

“Right, well, if you’re ready now I can have JJ call the team in for the briefing and you can meet everyone,” Gideon explained and Spencer followed him out of the room and down the hall. He pulled out a chair around the large round table for the younger man to sit down and he moved to stand by a large screen to talk to a blonde woman who didn’t look too much older than he was. She smiled at him as she began pressing buttons on a remote and he gave a quick wave before the room filled with, what he assumed was the rest of the team. As he stood he immediately locked eyes with Derek again, who smirked and set down his files in front of the seat right beside Spencer’s.

“Alright, well as I told you all, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and he’ll be joining our team from now on. Spencer, this is Agent Hotchner, our unit chief, Elle Greenaway, Derek Morgan, our technical analyst Penelope Garcia, and our communications liaison Jennifer Jareau,” Gideon listed, despite the fact that they all could’ve introduced themselves, but he was met with a tight hug from Penelope before he could protest and awkwardly adjusted his clothing afterwards.

He smiled nonetheless and explained that he didn’t do handshakes to the rest of the team before they all filled up the seats around the table with Derek sitting so close that he couldn’t help but notice him in the corner of his eye.

“So, no handshakes?” The other man whispered in his ear as JJ passed around the folders of new case files to the team.

Spencer huffed a laugh under his breath.

“Well, I have a bit of an issue with germs. Did you know shaking hands can transfer over three thousand bacteria between parties? Scientifically speaking, it would be safer to kiss,” he rambled before freezing as he realized the implications of what he had just said.

“Oh, really? Strictly scientifically?” Derek teased, knocking their knees together under the table.

He knew Derek was looking at him but he felt a smirk creep onto his lips as he refused to give in and kept his eyes on the slides JJ was presenting.

“Strictly,” he smirked coyly.

As they all collected their things and took off on the jet, Spencer couldn’t help glancing up from his work every few minutes to sneak glances at Derek from across the plane. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Derek was almost always staring back. Seemingly none of the other team members noticed anything going on between them, or if they did, they graciously didn’t mention it.

It wasn’t long until they landed and made their way to the local police station, all expressing concern that the station’s coffee machine was broken until Derek spoke up before anyone could move on.

“Reid and I will go pick up some coffee and lunch for everyone, I think we passed a cafe just down the street. You go ahead and start here, we’ll be back in no time,” he offered, nudging Spencer with his elbow until the younger man followed him out the door and into one of the parked SUV’s. “So, does now work for you to take a quick coffee date?”

Spencer laughed, relaxing already as Derek pulled out of the parking lot.

“Now sounds perfect.”

#moreid #spencer reid #derek morgan #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #shemar moore #my writing

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baku-no-alt · 5 years ago

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sriracha sauce | 10

bakugou x reader; in which Bakugou and some other students from UA are doing a work -study abroad in NYC. also Bakugou is nice to you for once

a/n: i am SO sorry this took so long. it’s been..........a time lately lmao

cw: angst, slight mentions of gore

That night, it rains.

You’re curled up on your couch, knees tucked as close as you can get them to your chest, hands wrapped around your shins. You press your fingernails into your skin, leaving little red impressions on your lower legs.

The person in Katsuki’s bed was a villain from the group that kidnapped him. His quirk allowed him to copy the appearance of anyone he saw, but as his memory of their features faded over time, so did his ability to reproduce them accurately.

The villain is in police custody, and Kirishima and his friends, along with other Pro Heroes in the city, are out looking for Katsuki.

And you’re stuck here, in your apartment, time passing by agonizingly slowly. You try to distract yourself with food, books, TV, your studies, but nothing can stop your thoughts from returning to worrying about Katsuki.

You wait and wait and wait for an update from Kirishima, but nothing comes.

He’s a hero, you try to yourself. He’ll be okay.

But the what-if’s cloud your mind, pulling you into a haze of anxiety. You wonder if your kiss with Katsuki was the first and last time you’d ever kiss him. When you try to push the thoughts out, they take a stronger hold, digging into your brain and taking root.

It starts to thunder, and every crack and rumble makes you jump. You try to imagine what he would say if he were here.

“It’s just thunder, dumbass,” you whisper to yourself. You will yourself to hear it in his voice. You imagine him as close as he was the other night, lips on yours.

You crawl out of your blanket just enough to grab your laptop. You open it up and squint against the harsh light it shines on your face. You almost go through your social media, but decide against it, as news of Katsuki’s kidnapping was probably all over your feeds. Instead, you pull up your email and sift through the thirty or so new messages in your inbox.

It’s mostly spam, but a couple emails are job or study offers, and one is a response from a recruiter you’d been in contact with for a while. She’s asking you about your experience, which positions at her hero agency you think you’d best fit in. You peruse through them, weighing your options.

Then, something in her signature catches your eye. The name of the agency, then it’s major locations - New York, Los Angeles, London, São Paulo, and Tokyo.

You move your mouse to click on the link that would take you to their Tokyo website when the screen turns black.

Confused, you smack the side of your laptop a few times. You check the battery indicator, and the flashing lights indicate your laptop is still on.

Then, slowly, a message appears on your laptop screen. Green letters appear on a black background. Your heart races as words form themselves.

Write this down.

An address appears, and you hastily scribble it down on a receipt lying on the ground near you.

No cops. No heroes.

We’ll know.

Then the screen goes back to normal, and you’re staring at your email inbox again.

You wonder, for a moment, if you’re literally going insane. But you stare at the address you have written down and know that’s where you’ll find Katsuki.

It could be a trap.

You hold your hand over your phone, wondering if you should call Kirishima. If they - whoever they are - could hack into your laptop like that, surely they had enough surveillance on you to know if you were communicating with heroes?

In the end, you just plug the address into your phone and hope Kirishima and the other heroes have the sense and capabilities to check your search history. You pull on a sweatshirt, rain jacket, and some leggings, pack a small purse with your phone, wallet, and keys, and pause in your entryway before you open your door to leave.

This is insane, right? You were just going to leave to rescue Katsuki? By yourself? Sure, you’d had some combat training, but you couldn’t defend yourself against an entire group of villains.

But, if you could find Katsuki, he could defend you. If you could find Katsuki, everything would be okay.

You have to try.

You take a deep breath, pull open your front door, and run down the stairs.

---

Your phone tells you that the address is an hour’s walk away. Wind and rain whip around you as you run along the sidewalk, following the directions on your phone screen. Water soaks through your sneakers, and you feel it sloshing around in your shoes.

Buildings fly by you in blurs as you run as fast as you can through the city, not allowing yourself to think, only focusing on breathing and doing your best to keep yourself alive.

You make it to an apartment building in downtown New York in forty-five minutes, your adrenaline-fueled legs carrying you as fast as you can go. When you finally stop running and stand in front of the building, chest heaving, you notice the pain in your feet. Blisters have formed from running in your wet shoes.

You look at the address on your phone again. They hadn’t given an apartment number or any other instruction.

A man emerges from an alleyway on the side of the apartment building.

“So glad to see you’ve come.” His words are covered in malice. When he steps into the light of the streetlamps, you can see his skin is scaly, and his eyes resemble the slitted pupils of a snake.

“W-where’s Katsuki?” you whisper.

The man doesn’t say anything, just jerks his head in the direction of the alleyway. You follow him, cautiously, looking around for items you might be able to defend yourself with.

This was idiotic, you scold yourself.

But it’s too late now.

Once you’re in the alley, the man leads you through a side door into the building, and then up a service elevator. You stand in the elevator awkward with him. The scent of smoke wafts off of him. You manage a glance in his direction, and see that one of his arms is covered in burns.

You wonder if they’re from Katsuki.

When you reach the 37th floor, the man leads you off the elevator and into the hallway. The apartment building is nice - the hallways are beautifully decorated with mirrors and modern art. He stops at a room and unlocks it.

You don’t immediately step inside, and the man glares at you.

“You’d better go in and find your boyfriend,” he hisses, and when he smiles at you, you can see two large fangs protruding from his gums.

You shudder and step into the apartment.

The room is bare, with wooden floors and white walls. There are some tables and desks pushed up against the walls with computers and other equipment on them, but besides that, the only other object in the room was a large stone - taller than you - with markings and carvings on it.

Standing around the room, or sitting at the desks, is a group of people who look like they don’t belong together. They all looked so different - and like they were from different backgrounds.

One of them speaks to you, and you don’t recognize the language. You activate your quirk, and catch the last half of his sentence.

“...all about your talents.”

When you turn your head in the direction of the speaker, you see Katsuki sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. He isn’t bound, or gagged, or in chains like you expected him to be. He’s just sitting there, slumped slightly forward.

Why isn’t he using his quirk? Why doesn’t he just get out of here?

Your eyes travel from his head, down his arms, and then land on his hands. When you see them, you slap your hand over your mouth and a gasp escapes you.

His fingers are bent at odd angles, some backward, some awkwardly to the side.

A wave of nausea hits you. They’re broken. Every single one of his fingers has been broken.

His head snaps up when he hears your gasp and his eyes lock on you.

“No…” he growls, “let her go.”

---

masterlist

@shareyourfandomfaves, @ha-tep, @reyna-avila-ramirez-alreanaldo, @ayeputita, @lookslikeleese, @alinakaisato, @loxbbg, @micheladakenzo, @bnhaismylife, @aurorahoneybuns, @anything-and-everything-here69, @overkill-is-underrated, @sizzlingbarbarianglitter, @squeaky-ducky, @hallothankmas, @thenezuko, @frenchspeakingfilipina,

if i forgot to tag u it is bc i am garbage PLEASE remind me

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou fanfiction #bakugo fanfiction

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pastelbatfandoms · 5 years ago

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...Like one of your French girls

A/N: A side story for My OC Renee West Wells and Sherloque Wells from The Flash. Takes place during season 5. A little back story since I haven’t written that part yet. Thanks to Nora,Renee finds out her long lost love Eobard Thawne aka Reverse Flash is alive in the future but locked up and goes to see him,Eobard manipulates her to his side again,along with Nora,they keep it a secret until Sherloque (who Renee is currently dating) uses his Detective skills and is not too happy with what he finds out,leaving things with Renee up in the air....

Warnings: Smut because it’s a Wells and I can’t help it ♥ Also Sherloque will not stop trying to persuade me to write about him. Slow burn a bit of Cat & Mouse.

~~~~~~

Renee should have known Sherloque would find out,he was a Detective after all. What she hadn’t planned on was him saying something in front of Barry,Iris and the rest of Team Flash. Who,known for being a bit judgemental,didn’t take it well.

If Renee was honest with herself she could understand why Sherloque had made that descion,he felt hurt and betrayed and wanted Renee to feel some of that as well. While Renee hadn’t at first,ultimately leading to Obsidian Storm taking over and joining up with her niece XS,as well as Weather Witch,Bug Eyed Bandit and Rag Doll as The Young Rogues. Eventually after what happened with Nora and Eobard leaving once again,Renee saw the error of her ways and re joined Team Flash.

It was their that Sherloque told them he was leaving back to his Earth,he didn’t look at Renee when he said it but Renee looked at him.Upset but not surprised,if her lover had treated her the way she had treated Sherloque,she would leave too.

But she wasn’t going to let him leave without at least explaining herself or letting him know that she had cared or does really care for him.

Biting her lip,Renee works up the nerve then finally clears her throat to get Sherloque’s attention. Sherloque squints up at her in question,as Renee makes a gesture with her head for them to talk in private. Sherloque at first appears to not want too,then eyeing her up and down,excuses himself and follows Renee out of the room.

Once in the lounge part of Star Labs,Sherloque turns,his hands in his pockets as he regards Renee. “So what iz it you want to talk about?” He asks cooly.

Renee drops her guard then,hating how distant Sherloque is with her now. “Sherloque I...I am so sorry.” She looks up at him,hoping he can read the sincerity behind her eyes.

As a so called master detective,Sherloque obviously can but chooses to ignore it,as he looks away with a tsk. “ Iz that all?’ The Frenchman asks.

“No...” Renee lets out a breath in exasperation,not at him but herself and the situation she had put them in. “Of course not. Look I know you’re mad and hurt and probably hate me,I would too if I were you. But I didn’t mean to hurt you,not intentionally,I do care about you. Honestly I wasn’t expecting to see you again after our one night encounter,then after I left Earth 2,left Harry,I was just lost and you were there but then I started to have feelings for you and then Eobard showed back up and mixed those all up,which I should hate him for but...” The words came spilling out,one after another,unable to contain them or even make sense of them,just wanting Sherloque to know everything she felt in that moment. “I’m sorry you don’t need someone like me,I mean technically you’ve already dealt with me 6 times,why make it a 7th? In fact this was probably a bad idea,I should go.” Seeming to change her mind Renee starts to walk away,when Sherloque,who had been quiet the entire time,grabbed her by the wrist to stop her. “Renee halte’. “

Pulling her towards him,Renee didn’t have time to react before Sherloque’s lips were on hers,kissing her as if he never wanted to let go. When he did,it was to say. “ I forgive you,you `are not something I have to,how you say,deal with. You are ‘Mon indispensable to me. Mon amour.”

Renee gazed up at him,studying Sherloque almost like he did with everyone else,but there was no apprehension on Sherloque’s face only sincerity and love.Renee smiled then, “You’re special to me too Sherloque.”

Sherloque kissed her again,this time slower,as Renee murmured breathlessly between kisses. “Don’t leave Sherloque,I need you,please.”

“Non. I won’t. Mon avenir “ Sherloque promised,placing his forehead close to Renee’s as they held one another.

The Following Day... Sherloque POV

Sherloque had been looking for Renee everywhere, at Star Labs,they had just made up and now she had disappeared without a trace. “Where have you gone Ma Tigresse...” Sherloque wondered,muttering the pet name he had for her. Sherloque knew she hadn’t actually left,it was a game she liked,playing hard to get...Sherloque will admit being a Detective he enjoyed it as well,But he was still perplexed as to where Renee had hid off too. So perplexed he even asked Cisco.

Cisco looked up from the computers and shook his head frowning. “No sorry Sherli I haven’t seen her.”

Sherloque frowned back at the hated nickname but chose to ignore it for the moment.

Cisco stood up then. “I could help you look for her.”

Sherloque hesitated,making a warding off gesture,shaking his head. “Non,that iz not ne’ssacary.”

But Cisco insisted following Sherloque,who was heading down to the lounge.

Sherloque looked back,”Yet you are’ coming anywayz.” He muttered under his breath.

Once they had reached the lounge and opened the door,Sherloque’s eyes immediately fell onto Renee. Ah there she was. ((Here she iz indeed...)) Sherloque thought,trailing his eyes up and down taking in her,very naked,form as she lay across the couches. Then he noticed Cisco catching up with him and immediately rushed into the room,closing the door so only Sherloque’s face was shown as he shouted. “Ah I found Renee!”

Cisco stopped. “Is she okay?” He asked.

“She iz fine!” Sherloque reassured him trying not to appear nervous. “Very fine indeed...” He murmured,glancing back again at her. Then snapping out of it turned back to Cisco. “I can take it from here.”

Cisco frowned,”If you’re sure...” Probably thinking Sherloque was just being weird and secretive again.

Sherloque shook his head waving Cisco off. “Oui,very sure!” Sherloque insisted. Waiting until Cisco had left to fully close the door behind him.

Closing his eyes and Letting out a breath in relief that Cisco hadn’t caught his best friend,and Ex,laying naked in the lounge,all for Sherloque,he forgot for a moment that HIS girlfriend was indeed laying naked waiting for him. Until she spoke up.

“Sherloque...paint me like one of your french girls...” Renee said softly,quoting that very famous scene from Titanic.

But Sherloque knew it wasn’t just a euphemism. As he opened his eyes and let out under his breath. “ Oh Tu es toute simplement ravissante’” Sherloque did paint in his free time and knew Renee was curious about body painting.

“ One moment mon amour.” Putting up a finger,Sherloque looked around then spotted his paints he kept stashed in the lounge,letting out a pleased “Ah!” upon finding it. Once he had retrieved his body paints,Sherloque turned back to Renee,with a wicked grin. “Let uz begin.”

Renee’s POV

Renee had been waiting for almost half an hour,wondering when Sherloque was going to find her. And was relieved when he finally did,glancing at his hungry look now as he held the paints,his eyes roaming over her body,she was glad she had waited.

Renee suppressed a shiver,not out of being cold,as Sherloque advanced towards her.

Then he stopped,setting his paints down as he removed his long coat and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt,slowly because he knew Renee was watching. And she was.

Renee watched every gesture and nuance her boyfriend made,admiring his toned arms but also his ability to size her up as much as she was sizing him up,seeming to appear cool yet interested all the same time,damn did the French go to school for Seduction 101? or was it because he was also a Detective and knew by her eyes,everything Renee was wanting in that moment.

Renee surmised it was both. She followed Sherloque with her eyes as he knelt in front of her. “Sit up Tigresse.” Sherloque instructed her with a nod of his head. Renee did as she was told gazing up at Sherloque’s intense expression,who was frowning in concentration already in artist mode,Renee openly shivered this time as Sherloque started painting her chest,brushing alongside her nipple.

“A little excited My pet?” Sherloque smirked already knowing the answer.

Renee cleared her throat,looking away. “No,I’m fine.” She lied.

Sherloque gave a disbelieving sound but continued. “Relaxe’...” He told her. “Close your eyez.”

Renee did,feeling instead of seeing every stroke he made with the brush against her skin,swirling it around her nipples and down her stomach. Talk about four play...

In what seemed like forever,but wasn’t nearly long enough,Sherloque told her to open her eyes,she did looking down and seeing awash of colors in blue,black and streaks of yellow over the front of her body. It took her a moment to realize he had painted a Thunderstorm.

“Sherloque it’s beautiful...” Renee whispered.

Sherloque gave a small smile but he wasn’t done yet,as he ran a hand up Renee’s legs. “Open.”

Renee did,slowly at first until she felt Sherloque’s hands grip her thighs,telling her without words,to open wider. Renee’s eyes closed once again as she felt Sherloque’s paint brush glide up her leg closer to more while intimate parts as he gently pushed her thighs open.

Stopping to admire the view appreciatively. “Perfection...” He murmured under his breath. As he started to paint her inner thighs,then letting out a “Mmmm” of feigned annoyance,rubbed at the spot he had just painted. “Looks like I missed a spot. Don’t worry Mon Cheri I clean it.”

Renee opened her eyes long enough to look down into Sherloque’s own,dark with lust as he trailed kisses up her thighs,every touch was slow and sensual,making Renee moan and drop her head back once Sherloque’s mouth went where she really needed it to go.

Slowly,languidly he licked up her,seeming to devour every taste and savor every moan that came from her lips,as she came with a shudder.

Sherloque let up then,raising to meet her as she said breathlessly,eyes closed. “Make me forget Sherloque.”

“Forget what Mi Amour?” Sherloque asked,though he knew for the most part what she meant.

Renee’s eyes opened then,dark with lust,as she stared into Sherloque’s own lust filled eyes. “Everything.” She murmured.

Sherloque’s lips were on hers then,kissing her passionately,she wrapped her arms around Sherloque as he picked her up and carried her to his makeshift bed.

Once on the bed Sherloque positioned himself above her,giving her a long kiss as he slowly stroked her,Renee was more then ready when Sherloque thrust inside her with a low moan.

The feeling of his cock inside her,made Renee want to come right then as they held each other close. “Eager are we Mon cher?” Sherloque asked in a teasing manner. But stopped moving when he felt Renee clench around him. Sherloque tskd,putting a finger to Renee’s lips. “Non My pet don’t cum yet,I want it to last.” Sherloque whispered seductively into her ear.

At his command Renee willed the feeling to pass,opening her mouth to suck on Sherloque’s finger as he slowly moved inside her again.

He cupped her face then,kissing her slowly as they made love,then gripped her breast to lick her nipple,she shuddered and then those two words low in her ear. “Cum for me Ma Tigresse’” as he slowly fucked her into submission, “Ah yes My love that’s it.” Renee felt every inch as him as she came with a low cry “Sherloque!” and felt him cum inside right along with her.

Afterwards they lay in each others arms,reveling in the after glow. When suddenly they hear a door open,Renee sits up grateful the blanket is covering them. Then her eyes widen as she realizes who was standing there. Harrison Wells,her husband.

“Harry I...” Renee’s words die on her lips,at a loss. True they were estranged but she had never told him about Sherloque.

Harry seems to be at a loss for words as well as he simply stares at them both then turns and walks out.

Renee gets up quickly dressing. “I’m sorry Sherloque,I didn’t know Harry was going to be here. I need to go.” Renee says hastily.

“Of course I understandz.” Sherloque answers with a gesture. “Go.” As Renee quickly walks out the door.

“Harry wait!” Renee yelled,Once she had caught up with Harry in the hall of the cortex. Harry turns around but still says nothing. Thinking he is angry or in shock,Renee tries to apologize. “Harry I’m sorry I know we were apart but I should have told you about Sherloque.”

“No need. I already knew.” Harry finally spoke,but his voice was different some how,raspier.

“How?” Renee asked frowning but then her expression turned to one of realization as she studied him. “You’re not Harry...”

Harrison,or who she thought was,let out a dark chuckle and smirked. “No I’m not.”

“Eobard...” Renee whispered. Not sure how to feel seeing him standing there once again looking like Harrison Wells.

“ I know you have a thing for this detective,he is a Wells after all...” Eobard Thawne said,leaning closer into her. “But just remember YOU belong to ME.” Eobard whispered in her ear then eyes flashing red,he zips away.

Leaving Renee shaken,not sure if that was a promise or a threat and if she really wanted to find out....

To be continued...

#sherloque wells #fan fiction #the flash #smut #wells of hearts

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brainy-storm · 5 years ago

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@cyclone-rachel -- Happy birthday Rachel! I, predictably, have written brainysupes for you. Thank you for always being a good friend and such a wonderful person all around. I’m proud to call someone as kind and friendly as you a friend. Hope you have an excellent birthday, because that’s what you deserve.

Aegis

Brainy winced, cradling his finger tenderly. He was in his lab, trying to make a few adjustments to the time bubble and had been handling his tools carelessly, resulting in him almost singeing his finger off. Luckily, he only burned it slightly, but it still hurt.

He heard the doors slide open and a “Hey Brainy, Saturn Girl said you were in here,” before hiding his hand behind his back.

“Superman,” he acknowledged, straitening up. “What can I do for you?”

“Could you check if there has been any suspicious activity on Takron-Galtos?” Superman walked up to him as he talked and Brainy took a quick step back.

Perhaps one that was too obvious, as his friend’s face dropped to a frown.

“Of course, I can,” Brainy rushed on, “is there any particular reason you would like me to check? I did recently write a report on the improvement to the prison’s efficiency a while ago. It might have edged on being a tad too critical but I do think it was important to improve the prison.” At this point, he usually expected the other person he was conversing with to drop off in engagement or maybe even interrupt him, but Superman was nodding along, listening attentively.

“You’re probably right, Brainy.” There was a slight pause, the unsaid ‘as always’ filling the space between. “Especially since I nabbed one of Alexis’ goons sneaking nearby. He wouldn’t admit he was working for her but I’m pretty sure that’s the case.”

“Oh. Alexis.” Brainy didn’t bother to keep his displeasure out of his voice. “You want me to make sure that she’s still locked up.”

“Right. And uh, Brainy?” Superman stepped forward and Brainy took another step back. “Okay. You’re acting weird. What’re you hiding behind your back?”

“I’m not – ” He saw Superman’s crossed arms and ‘don’t-even-try’ expression. Sighing, he brought out his hand. “It’s nothing, really. I just burned myself.”

“Brainy!” Judging by the way Superman sounded, he was probably going to blow this out of proportion. “When did this happen?”

“Just now.”

“And you’re just standing here? We’ve got to run it under cold water.”

“It’s fine, Superman. I’ve assessed it myself and it’s not even a second-degree burn, I was going to just continue my work. Or perhaps I could just start on the checks on Talkron-Galtos.”

Superman, however, was not going to have any of it and began dragging Brainy by the wrist. “Alright, now where’s the sink, again?”

Knowing that Superman wasn’t going to let up, Brainy reminded him that the lab had a sufficient supply of distilled water and a first aid kid. The Kryptonian located the supplies in three seconds and had sat Brainy down on a stool in another two and begun tending to him.

For someone who could break machines in two quite easily, Superman’s hands were gentle when he followed Brainy’s instructions on how to help him. If Brainy was going to sit down for this, he might as well not have to go through Superman’s more primitive remedies and actually use modern medicine to heal him.

“Wow, that works pretty quickly.” He inspected Brainy’s hand, which rested atop his palm. There was almost no indication of a burn anymore and Brainy could only feel a cooling sensation at his fingertip, rather than pain. “Wish I could bring some of that home – yes, I know I can’t Brainy.”

“Fortunately for you, it takes more than a measly laser to burn you, so you won’t be needing it in any case.”

He only realised how much bite he put into that when he felt Superman’s hand squeeze his own. “Sorry, I didn’t mean – ”

“It’s fine, Brainy.” Superman pulled up another stool and Brainy felt the empty space where his hand was. “I can guess what’s going on and why you wanted to hide it.”

He opened his mouth, before shutting it again. Well, what was he going to say? ‘Yes, you are correct. I didn’t want you to see how easily how pathetic being so easily hurt makes me feel.’ He had too much pride to say that.

Brainy wasn’t one to shy away from complaining but this felt different. Saying something just made it all too real. He was eternally grateful that he wasn’t under the original Brainiac’s control anymore but he didn’t ask for this either.

“I am…still getting used to this organic body.” That’s as much as he wanted to say to Clark in this moment.

“Yeah…”

Did he always feel like Superman could read him? Or was this awareness of it just another symptom of his departure from being an android? Either way, it made keeping eye contact a little more difficult.

“It’s not the same, and it’s not permanent for me but I do know how it feels like to lose my…powers.” Brainy understood the hesitation to say ‘powers’. They both were born and grew up with their abilities. They were a part of them and not having them was like losing a whole piece of themselves. “We can talk about it if you want.”

“I know.” He knew every single way in which Superman could be stripped of his powers. But none that could take away his spirit. Which was what it felt like was happening to Brainy.

He didn’t want to let his misery seep into Superman. He was touched, really, by his concern but he didn’t think he wanted to talk about this. Not yet, anyway.

Brainy got off from the chair, heading straight for the computer by his lab bench. “I assure you, I will talk to you if I need to. Right now, I need to pursue this Alexis case.”

He felt a light pressure on his shoulder and turned to look at Clark despite himself, finding him staring at warm eyes. “I mean it, Brainy. If you want to talk, I’m here, anytime.”

Superman murmured a ‘see you later’ before departing. Brainy clenched his hands into fists. It was all he could do to stop himself from reaching up and taking Clark’s hand into his but he needed to get back to work.

Work was something Brainy could do, whatever form he was in.

xxxx

He openly enjoyed the look of delight on Clark’s face, as he stepped in front of Alexis’ laser guns, his latest invention – the shield belt – protecting both him and the man behind him. After an overwhelming victory on recapturing the escapee, Superman pulled him into a massive hug.

It was as Brainy predicted; working definitely brought him satisfactory results.

#brainiac 5 #querl dox #brainysupes #clark kent #legion of superheroes #superman #legion of super heroes #anilosh #cyclone-rachel #my post #my fanfic #also idk if the title is fitting but it sounds cool lol

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maaaaaatryoshka0325 · 5 years ago

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As Above, So Below - Kim Seungmin Paranormal Investigator AU Part 4

(<- Previous Part) (Next Part ->)

You couldn’t be falling for Seungmin, right? He was basically your boss, how could you gain feelings for him? He was well out of your league anyways, and maybe this was just your inner fangirl talking.

But then again, how could you not fall for him? He was sweet, and so gentle. His puppy-like eyes had drawn you in, his soft, plump lips look almost too perfect to kiss. And his teeth? You’ve never seen anyone with teeth as white as his. He was charming in every aspect, personality, looks, and passion. He took your feelings into consideration and made you feel like part of the group, and defended you from Haru almost every time she lashed out at you.

You shook your head to get those thoughts out, and continued on your way. You were going to the cafe near your apartment, then heading over to the library to get some school work done. You loved the smell of the cafe, full of fresh coffee and baked goods. You decided to get yourself some breakfast and your favorite coffee, then headed right back out the door. The library was only a few blocks from the cafe, and the weather had broken and was quite beautiful. You wore a light sweater and leggings, finally being able to enjoy your favorite type of clothes.

You took a seat in the back of the library at one of the single tables and put your stuff down, opening up your computer. You had to type up a paper report on something interesting you’ve encountered, so you decided to write about your experience at the mountain resort. Felix also promised to download some of the videos to your computer to send to your teacher.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

You looked up and made eye contact with Seungmin. His hair was parted, and he wore a nice, fit looking flannel and dark skinny jeans as he sat down at the opposite side of the table.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.

“Yeah,” He answered. “Are you busy?”

“I just have to finish writing up this paper then I’m free.” You said, gesturing towards your computer screen.

“What’s the paper on?” He asked.

“We just had to write about something interesting that happened to us, so I’m writing about what happened at the mountain resort.” You answered.

He scootched closer to you, his eyes scanning the words you had typed. His eyes ran along every line, his face close to yours.

“Something wrong?” You asked.

“Nah.” He answered with a smile. “I like the way you worded everything.”

“Really? Felix said he’ll download some of the videos to my computer to send to my teacher, which would be really helpful as proof because this paper was due two days ago.” You sighed.

“I guess you didn’t have time when we were in the mountains to even think of writing up this report.” Seungmin said.

You nodded and he gave you a sweet smile.

“Just make this paper the best you can, put a lot of effort into it. I’m sure your professor will understand when he reads this and sees the videos.” He said with a smile.

You smiled back and nodded as you began to type away again, Seungmin’s eyes staying glued to your computer. He even helped you word things differently, or gave you bigger words to use, since it was a college/university paper after all. His face leaned closer to yours as he pointed out a grammar mistake, and your heart began to beat through your chest. You could feel the warmth of his body with how close he was to you, his breath lightly fanning your hair as he spoke. You followed his finger to the screen, and realized you used the wrong form of “you’re”. You slowly dragged the cursor to the spot and fixed it, earning a smile from Seungmin.

“Thank you, when I’m tired I tend to make pretty obvious mistakes.” You sighed.

“It happens to the best of us.” He chuckled.

When you finished, he looked over your whole paper, fixing a little more spelling errors along the way. His eyes beamed as he read everything, reading the whole story from your point of view, his attention set mainly on the part where you had met Joonwoo, and what had happened in the police station that day.

“I love it, it almost seems like it happened in a movie with the way you’re describing it.” Seungmin said, his eyes beaming.

“Thank you.” You thanked him with a giggle.

You sent the paper to your professor and stretched, cracking your tired bones.

“Why were you looking for me?” You asked.

‘Oh, we have a few more requests for cases, and we wanted everyone to be there to decide on which case to do next.” He said.

You nodded and got up, packing your stuff and following Seungmin to the van. The five of you were meeting at Seungmin’s parent’s house to watch the videos you were all sent and to read each case file. When you pulled up to his home, you noticed how nice it was. It was a very expensive property, you could tell by the looks of it. You nervously followed him to the front door, a chuckle coming from him when he looked at you.

“Why do you look so nervous?” He asked.

“I mean, I’m meeting your parents.” You said.

He quirked a brow and you panicked.

“N-No I didn’t mean it like that! I-” You panicked before he stopped you with a laugh.

“I know what you meant, I’m just teasing you.” He laughed.

You whacked him with your bag and he gasped, rubbing his arm.

“That hurt!” He gasped.

“Good!” You yelled, going to whack him again.

He grabbed your wrists as the two of you wrestled for a moment,before the front door opened. You froze as you made eye contact with a beautiful woman, her eyes scanning you both before a pretty smile stretched across her face.

“Seungmin honey, is this your new friend?” She asked.

You quickly pulled your wrists from his hold and bowed to her, straightening your sweater out.

“H-Hi, I’m Y/N.” You greeted her politely.

“Nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Mrs. Kim, I’ve heard a lot about you.” She said with a friendly smile, beckoning for you both to follow her into the house.

“I hope it was all good stuff.” You said with a small laugh as she led the two of you through the living room.

“Of course it was honey!” She said with a smile as she looked back at you. “I’m impressed by your abilities, you’re something special.”

You blushed at her words and Seungmin gave you a soft smile before looking at his mom.

“Are the others here?” He asked.

His mother nodded and pointed towards a basement door. He nodded and beckoned for you to follow, before turning back to his mom.

“Are you going to come down?” He asked.

“Your father and I are actually going to run to the store, I figured I’d cook for you and your group tonight, you all have been working very hard and it’s not everyday I get to see you anymore.” She said with a smile.

Seungmin stepped away from the door and placed a soft kiss on his mom’s cheek, making her eyes brighten as he began to walk back towards the door.

“Thank you mom, for always supporting me.” He said.

She gave the both of you a thumbs up before retreating into the living room, calling to her husband. Seungmin smiled at you as he led you down a flight of stairs and into a finished basement. It looked like a second living room, hardwood floors on the ground and beautiful tiles made up the walls. A large TV was in the middle of the largest wall, and across from it was a massive leather couch, accompanied by Felix, Hyunjin, and Haru.

“Finally you guys show up.” Haru said, munching on some sweets.

“Sorry, we were talking to my mom.” Seungmin laughed, taking a seat on the couch.

Hyunjin patted the spot beside him and you sat down in the corner of the couch, between him and Seungmin.

“How many cases were we sent?” Seungmin asked.

“Five.” Felix said as he ate a chip, pulling up something on the laptop that was sitting on the coffee table.

He played the first one, your eyes following the story. It seemed like a hoax, like a bunch of teenagers wanting a chance on Seungmin’s blog.

“Not worth it, right?” Haru asked.

“I don’t think so.” Seungmin said as Felix flipped over to the next one.

It was a creaky old house, and you could tell that every time they recorded it was during inclimate weather.

“Seems the house is just old and can’t take the elements.” You said.

“Good eye Y/N.” Hyunjin said with a smile.

You smiled back at him as Felix clicked on the next one, and your heart sank almost immediately. Right in front of your eyes was a video inside an abandoned mental institution, various orbs floated around the screen, sounds above could be heard, and the last part of it made your stomach twist.

“Felix, go back to the last ten seconds.” You instructed.

Felix nodded as Seungmin looked over at you.

“What did you see Y/N?” He asked.

You stood up and stood next to the TV, nodding to Felix.

“Slow it down at the end.”

He nodded and did so, and you pointed to the corner, where a woman’s deformed face could be seen. Her eyes were all black, and her open mouth was crooked, a dark shadow almost appearing over it. You saw the look of horror on all of their faces, and you knew you weren’t the only one who had seen the awful image.

“Let them know we’ll take the case.” Seungmin said to Hyunjin, who nodded and went onto the groups email to respond to them.

“We’re really going to an abandoned mental institution? Isn’t it abandoned for a reason?” Haru asked.

“They’re looking to refurbish it and make it into a retirement home.” Seungmin said.

“Those poor old people.” Hyunjin groaned. “And poor us.”

“All we have to do is get solid evidence, we won’t be sleeping in the middle of the place this time.” Seungmin said reassuringly.

“Where will we be staying?” Haru asked.

“I’ll look into some suites at local hotels.” Felix said

“Make sure it’s a hotel, not a motel like last time.” Hyunjin groaned.

“IT WAS AN HONEST MISTAKE LAST TIME!” Felix yelled with a pout.

“Yeah well your honest mistake had us freezing the whole night and checking ourselves and our luggage for bed bugs for almost a week!” Haru laughed.

Felix turned to you, still pouting.

“Y/N listen!” He yelled. “It was an honest mistake! I promise I’m not dumb!”

“Not dumb.” Hyunjin laughed. “Just accident prone.”

Your bags were packed, your laptop for your school along with it. You stepped out of your apartment, greeted by Seungmin. Your heart almost stopped when you saw him, wearing a dark jacket over a black shirt and tight black jeans. His hair was neatly parted, his eyes almost lighting up as he saw you step out, meeting you at the top of the stairs and grabbing your luggage for you and bringing it down to the van.

“Are you ready for this? It may be worse than the mountain resort.” He said, his large eyes meeting yours.

You gave him a reassuring smile and nodded.

“Don’t worry Seungmin, I’m ready. I made this choice when I agreed to become a member of your group, I know what can happen.” You said reassuringly.

His hand came up and stroked your hair, making your face flare up.

“You’re very brave, Y/N.” He said softly.

You gave him a small smile, trying to hide your blush. He smiled back and you both got into the van. He plugged in his phone and played soft music, his voice gently flowing in the van as he sang and hummed. His voice was soothing, and you couldn’t get enough of it. You kept stealing side glances at him, admiring the way his eyes looked when focused on the road. You knew it right then and there, you were falling for him.

#stray kids #straykids #kpop #straykidznet #skz #kim seungmin skz #kim seungmin imagines #kim seungmin au #skz kim seungmin #kim seungmin stray kids #kim seungmin #stray kids kim seungmin #seungmin skz #skz seungmin #seungmin stray kids #stray kids seungmin #paranormal investigator #kpop imagines

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swordarkeereon · 4 years ago

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Tech Review for Writers: reMarkable2

I got myself a piece of interesting tech this year in hopes it would get me from out in front of a computer screen more often. Meet the reMarkable2, a distraction free (i.e. it’s not connected to the entirety of the internet) e-ink tablet workhorse that’s easy on the eyes.

The reMarkable2 Tablet

First things first. The reMarkable2 tablet is not for everyone and your average person probably won’t find it the least bit useful. So let’s talk about why you don’t want this tablet first.

reMarkable 2 is not for you if:

– You want an eReader. eReaders have a VERY DIFFERENT function than the reMarkable2. Yes, you can read PDFs on a reMarkable, but it’s more for *marking up* a PDF and commenting in the margins of a PDF. Not just reading. eReaders like Kindles and Nooks often have built in dictionaries, ways to bookmark pages or passages of text, etc… that the reMarkable2 doesn’t have. You can search your documents for specific phrases and words and also highlight things in a light gray, but if you’re just looking for an eReader, I suggest a Kindle.

– You want a full functioning tablet that you can put apps on and surf the web with- If you’re looking for a full functioning tablet, you’ve missed the whole point of the reMarkable2. The main point behind reMarkable2 is so you can go to your creative place (wherever that may be) and brainstorm, free from ALL distractions. You can’t stop to surf FB or your Twitter feed on a reMarkable2, thus making it more likely you’ll stay on task and get more done.

– You want something with color so you can highlight because what you really want is a fully functioning ebook reader or tablet. This tablet is really more of a no frills brainstorming and note-taking tool for entrepreneurs, professionals, academics, and creatives (including engineers, writers, musicians, possibly artists if they like to sketch in black and white) who use a lot of black pens and plain paper.

I bought the tablet for the following reasons (which I wrote down BEFORE I received the device):

– I wanted an electronic notebook (not a tablet). I’m one of those people who goes through 3 packs of sticky notes every month, and countless notebooks every year. I am constantly jotting stuff down to keep myself focused and on track while running my own business and helping out at the family business. My notes can be anything from putting together presentations, classes, and meetings, to extensive to-do lists for the day. Sometimes it’s just me keeping track of sales figures. As a result, my desk is always filled with papers and notebooks and I’m constantly searching for shit. The electronic notebook cleans up all this clutter and helps me organize my brain. (Have you seen my brain!? It’s a mess in there.)

– I like to write freehand, especially when I’m plotting the next book or writing a blurb, or even writing a chapter – and it must be distraction free. This is something only fellow authors will understand. The fact that the reMarkable2 can convert handwritten notes to text sent via email has me excited because, if I’m lucky and it works, I won’t have to go through and transcribe all my handwritten notes. It basically saves me time by eliminating a step. I can copy/paste the note from my email into the appropriate file on my laptop. This will also save me the clutter and weight of carrying countless notebooks.

– I am involved with projects that require me to sketch out ideas for marketing and/or artwork. I do have tablets that can do this, but nothing that does it *well*. The closest is my Surface tablet, which can do a lot of things, but it still doesn’t feel like paper or allow me the fine detail paper allows. I’m hoping this tablet is a bit more responsive in this area. – I am forever printing out rough drafts of manuscripts for markup – wasting a ton of paper and toner in the process. All because I can’t edit on a backlit screen. My eyes get tired and I miss too many errors. If I can transfer my PDF drafts to the reMarkable and mark them up there with minimal errors left over, I could save some $$. I am actually estimating that I could easily save the cost of the reMarkable2 in 6 months to 1 year’s time by not having to purchase the paper, pens, and toner I usually go through in that time frame. Plus, these marked up manuscripts often end up in a stack on my office floor for 6 months to a year after publication.

– I am forever having to read PDFs of laws and regulations for the family business, and while I usually use them on the computer, I sit in front of a computer 8-13 hours a day. I need a non-backlit screen for reading in the evenings just to give my eyes a break. Yes, I imagine I could do the same with a Kindle paperwhite, but I may just want to jot some notes in the same way I’d mark up a paper copy. I’m still a pen and paper girl. I’m really hoping the reMarkable is my replacement for that (most of the time anyway).

reMarkable2 test to sample the pen styles.

Some considerations I took into account before purchasing:

A lot of customers complained that it took too long to receive the reMarkable or to get support. From all of the research I did, and in reading their website, it’s clear to me that this company caters to academia and businesses. I ordered my reMarkable2 on January 16, 2021, and had it in my hands by January 25, 2021. 9 days. I also ordered it and paid for it through my business. I don’t know if that’s actually why I got mine so fast, but I wouldn’t be surprised. That said, I do think the company should work a little harder to increase their customer service efficiency.

With regard to customer support – the website clearly states it can take up to 10 business days for support to get back to you. And a lot of the things people seem to be complaining about have troubleshooting instructions on the website. Clearly people weren’t going to the website to try to look up their issue through the support FAQs, which likely would have helped them out sooner. They were just contacting support immediately, and angry when they weren’t getting a response after 3 days, when it’s clearly stated on the website that it can take up to 10 days due to the fact that reMarkable is a small company. But like I said earlier – they would be smart to increase their customer service team.

reMarkable’s folios are a custom fit and really pretty, but a bit pricey. I made the tablet more affordable by skipping the upgrade on the pen, because a friend of mine got the eraser feature and she wasn’t digging it initially (she loves it now), and I purchased a relatively nice folio from Amazon for under $30 (with no magnets – research told me magnets can cause dead spots in the screen of the reMarkable2). You can also just buy a 10″-11″ tablet sleeve and it would work much the same. There are also universal tablet folios that will fit 10″-11″ tablets that are free of magnets and will likely work just fine. All for under $20 bucks — even a few in faux leather. Remember that a case should protect your investment, not just make it *look* sharp.

Right out of the Box.

Right out of the box I set the reMarkable up and started using it for brainstorming. Here were my first impressions:

1. It really is pretty damn close to writing on paper.

2. You can rest your damn hand on the screen and it won’t fuck things up or make it wobble as with traditional tablets.

3. My handwriting actually looks like my handwriting and you have almost the same control with this as you would with real pen and paper.

4. The interface is simple and intuitive and anyone who uses computers and tablets day and in day out will have no issues figuring this out.

Now some thoughts on the features:

Handwriting to Text: As an author who likes to occasionally spend time writing the old fashioned way, one of the things that attracted me to this tablet was its ability to translate handwriting to text. No writer wants to have to transcribe their written notes and waste all of that time. So of course I tested it with my horrific handwriting, vs purposefully trying to be neat, and the reMarkable2 was able to convert my chicken scratch into actual text that I could read. I was able to turn the handwritten notes into a PDF, but I was also able to send the handwriting converted to typed text as the body of an email, where I was able to cut and paste it into any program I wanted. I took it further and wrote 1000 words (about 8.2 pages) longhand. It converted all the pages to text in one swoop and I was able to copy/paste it into my manuscript. While there was a little formatting and editing involved — it was a lot faster than retyping handwritten notes. WIN!

Handwriting for conversion test.

Conversion successful

PDF Transfer, Markup, and Signature: Transferring PDFs to the reMarkable is easy. You simply download the app on your phone and your desktop, and you can take any pdf from either device and import it onto your reMarkable, which you can then markup. I sent myself a slew of PDFs that I had to read and markup. It’s amazing how much more focused I am on a screen like this. I really got the same experience with editing on a digital PDF as I did with editing on a paper copy. My only caveat is that I don’t have more space to make notes since the margins are a bit small on the screen and there’s no “back of the page” to carry notes over to. I can likely manage. Despite that – what a great experience. Goodbye manuscripts all over my office floor! Hello being able to drag editing work with me wherever I go!

You can also transfer your PDFs that don’t have an electronic signature option to the device, sign them, and send them back. Talk about HANDY since I do that a few times a month by default. This just eliminates the print/sign/scan. Now I just have to transfer it to the device, sign the document, and email it straight back to whoever sent it.

Digital Planners may be something I look into for 2022 because reMarkable actually makes them feasible. I tried a tester digital planner, courtesy a friend, on my reMarkable and I have to say – it offers just as much satisfaction as a paper planner. Plus, you can SEARCH large pdfs. It won’t find search terms in your handwriting, but it will find it in your PDF. That’s definitely a handy feature when you’re working with 500 page PDFs. That said, the tablet saves your place (last page you visited) as you’re navigating a PDF, so no need to search for the place you left off. However, there is no way to bookmark multiple pages.

ePub Reading: suppose I could sideload books as ePubs, but I really have no use for this feature. If I want to read ebooks, I use my kindle or the Kindle App on my tablet or phone. Unless I start doing editing of ePubs or want to check out an ePub format for something? I didn’t buy this as an eReader, and it is terribly lacking as an eReader. Where the reMarkable excels is as a tool for marking up documents. So my guess is it would be great for that if you have a lot of files in ePub format that you have to go over. You also can’t change font sizes for easier reading. You can zoom in and zoom back out to regular size. That’s it. (And this is another reason this is not an eReader.)

Storage: Storage is a little over 6GB (you do not pay for the reMarkable website cloud-sync). But even with about 15 PDFs (some of them really long) on my reMarkable at any given time, I was only at .38 GB.

reMarkable2 Storage

File System: Like I said earlier – the system is highly intuitive and easy to use. I made folders for my most common notebook uses, then I moved the appropriate PDFs to those folders, and created any notebooks I needed for those folders.

Exporting: You can export as .PNG, .SVG, and PDF. Handwriting to text can only be sent as text via the body of an email. This is actually great for writing because then you just have to copy/paste from your email into your Word Doc, Google Doc, or Scrivener.

Importing: Imports PDFs and ePubs.

Templates: The templates are great. I generally only use graph paper, plain, and lined paper myself. But I could see how a lot of these would be useful to people. The to-do list is a crappy template just because it requires you to hide your menu to use it (you can’t tick the the checkboxes until you do this). To hide the menu tap the circle in the upper left top of the menu bar. So if you want a partial page to-do list, you can easily make your own checkbox lists using the graph paper option. There are also dot pages for the folks into bullet journaling.

A small sampling of reMarkable2 Templates

Search Feature: You can search within a PDF, but not through your own handwritten text. You must be in the PDF to search it, otherwise you can only search for file names. You can not search across documents for a phrase or word. So if you’re looking for something with the same search capabilities as a laptop or possibly a tablet, you won’t find it here.

Zooming: You can zoom in on PDF documents and write on them while zoomed. However, you cannot change font sizes to make reading easier.

Battery Life: On days where I used it heavily (about 4-5 hours), I was using around 15% power in a day because I didn’t put it in airplane mode. Three days of 4-5 hours a day use drained my battery to 50%. So me, as a heavy user, not in airplane mode, will likely get 6-7 days out of a single charge. Possibly more since clearly not every day will be a heavy use day. The device does go to sleep after 10 minutes of inactivity.

Pen:The pens are a bit pricey. I did not buy the expensive pen with the eraser and I’m okay with that. But $60 for a pen is still a bit — ouch.

Pen Nib: I am expecting I will be one of those poor unfortunate souls who will be replacing pen tips every 3-4 weeks during heavy use. Luckily the pen itself doesn’t use batteries. The pen nibs seem reasonable in price, just be sure to order a new pack with your device and when you start that pack, order another as shipping times on those can take a week or two depending where you are and how efficient your mail service is. You don’t want to accidently run out and find yourself without a pen. Yikes.

Security: You can add a password to your reMarkable to keep prying eyes out. But if you’re like me and self-employed, that’s not really an issue. Your remarkable has Wi-Fi, yes, but you can put it in airplane mode to cut the connection. Plus, it only syncs to your cloud storage. There really aren’t any entry points for viruses or people hacking into your device. But then I’m also not a tech person. Let’s just say I highly doubt security will be a huge issue on this thing. Besides, anyone who wants to take a peek at my tablet would likely find themselves bored stiff, unless they like reading really rough first drafts of speculative fiction. LOL

Backup/Download: You can easily transfer your files back to your computer by opening the app and simply exporting your finished documents, etc… to your computer, backup drive or cloud drive. You can also just email yourself a copy to make it super easy.

My Wishlist:

1. I wish I could add or append new, handwritten pages to an existing PDF. That would definitely solve the space issue. Now, I just make notes in a different file and jog back and forth between the PDF and the notes, which is a little annoying, but doable. One way to solve this issue would be to save all your PDFs to double spaced. It might make markup a little easier. I’ll try that with the next books to go under the editorial knife.

2. I wish there were cheaper alternative covers. My $17 cover looks great and protects my tablet. reMarkable could easily come up with a few additional low-cost choices here. The ultra professionals are still going to buy nice leather folios.

(I may add to this list in the coming weeks, but right now these are the two main things jumping out at me.)

Overall Review Summary

For writers, reMarkable2 truly is a remarkable distraction free device that can help improve your concentration and organization, give you the freedom to write out longhand and convert it to text without the tedious re-typing, and help you mark up drafts with ease. This would probably serve prolific and professional writers more liberally than the writer who takes a few years to pen a book. Plus, it will probably save you a lot of printer paper, toner, pens and notebooks. For business owners/users – reMarkable will likely save you pounds of sticky notes and legal pads, and hours of time transcribing your notes. Plus, it’s a great on-the-go working tool for content creators and people who review a lot of PDFs.

Have some thoughts on the reMarkable2? Feel free to leave a comment below!

#distraction-free #not sponsored content #reMarkable2 #tablets #technology reviews

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masterofmagnetism · 5 years ago

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so you want to start a war || side a ( stark tower )

WHO: Lorna @mistressxfmagnetism, Alex @disarraycd, Emma @whiteqveendarling, Illyana @ofmagikandlimbo, and Tony @goldenavcnger WHERE: Stark Tower WHEN: August 2, 2020. 11 AM. WHAT: The Brotherhood makes the war between humans and mutants official, by way of a coordinated attack on New York in response to the Accords and resurrection of the SENTINEL program. The launch of the plan goes off perfectly--well, almost.

(In which Lorna and Alex show that they’re a fucking power couple, Emma slays the men of the room with like three words, Illyana shows off Scott the Demon Squirrel, and Tony stares down potential death while inebriated.

So nothing new, really. )

WORD COUNT: 3.8k TWs: mentions of past kidnapping and torture, murder mention

LORNA: There wasn't a time in Lorna's memory that she didn't know she was a mutant. Even before her powers had been prominent, she had known. There had never really been an option to hide. So it was only natural that despite her father not being a part of her life, she had followed in his footsteps nonetheless. Carving her own path in that direction.

Her tactics had been more defensive for the most part. Hiding people, moving them to safety. There had been protests too--and one that got her in serious trouble as a teenager--but she did most of her work in the Underground. But the Enforcers had torn that from her. Tried to break their network. So today was far from hidden. Today, she didn't just follow Erik's footsteps--she followed his lead. Today, they fought back in the open.

Lorna didn't wear the metal headband, created from the metal medallion gifted to her by Erik years ago, very often. But there never seemed like a more appropriate time than today. Unlike Magneto's helmet, it didn't block telepaths from her mind. Important when they were doing a two-pronged attack, relying on the signal.

She glanced at the others she was with--Alex, Illyana, and Emma--making sure they were ready to go. If it weren't them, she might be concerned. This was going to be risky, they had to all be all in and ready to fight for what they wanted. But she trusted Alex and Illyana with her life always, and Emma she trusted today.

ALEX: While his Mutant abilities manifested when he was quite young, but due to the manipulation of Nathaniel Essex he didn’t realize the power within him until much later in his life. Alex lived the first eighteen years of his life thinking that he was only Human. Upon discovering this wasn’t true, it was difficult for his parents to wrap their head around the news. Maybe they were afraid of losing another son, but they try to understand.

This is a cause Alex believes in — wanting to fight for what’s right for their people. He didn’t waste time suiting up and joining up with the others on his team. The Government thought making him register against his will would have made him fight for them on their side, but they were wrong. Alex would always side with Mutants every time.

His gloved hand adjusts some of the blonde hair faking over his mask and glances back at Lorna when their gaze meets. He trusts everyone in this room but that was obvious enough. Alex pulls his body away from the wall he had been leaning against, crossing his arms over his chest. “We ready to do this? I hope everyone has what they need.” There was a smirk on his face paired with his words as he looks at everyone in the group.

ILLYANA: Ever since her brother Piotr had been revealed to be a mutant she'd been mostly sure she was one too, or maybe it was more of a hope, but when she turned eleven she'd been proven right as her mutant power of controlling the stepping disks of Limbo manifested. Sometimes she wondered if she hadn't been taken to Limbo if she would have gotten some other power or if they'd be different. Of course Illyana wasn't a normal mutant, even before her mutant power had manifested she was a demon sorceress, she'd lost that part of herself around three months ago but she'd recently regained it and now she intended to use it to help the mutant cause.

It had only been about a week, maybe less, since Rogue helped her get her magic back and she hadn't really told anyone about it because it was so recent so she hadn't really used her magic again. Even if she was itching to use her powers again she was also worried about what could happen if she did, for now she decided to only rely on her mutant powers.

"Ready whenever you guys are" Illyana replied as she summoned a stepping disk on the floor in front of them. As soon as she did Scott, her demon squirrel came running towards her and climbed up Illyana to sit on her shoulder. "Fine," she sighed as she turned her head to look at him, “You can come, just stay close," she told him in demonic script, scratching him a little behind his ear.

LORNA: Lorna gave Alex a small smile as he pulled away from the wall. Reaching out to him, she gave his hand a squeeze. So many things could happen today, but Lorna was ready. There was no way this was going to go wrong. She wouldn't let it. For years they had all tried different ways, more peaceful ways, to get their message across. And all they had gotten in response was violence. Hatred. Fear. She'd been labelled a terrorist, attacked and ambushed. If they had their way, they'd throw her in the Raft. Lorna was tired of it. She could only imagine how her father felt after so many decades.

"Ready," she confirmed, stepping onto the disk beside Illyana. As the demonic... squirrel? leapt up onto Illyana's shoulder, she raised an eyebrow and snorted. That was unexpected. "Alright. Let's go."

Teleportation was something Lorna didn't think she'd ever get used to. Even for the split second it happened, it felt like cutting herself off from the connections she felt around her. But as disconcerting as it was, it was necessary for this. She blinked it away as they materialised at Stark Tower.

First things first: cut the power. They didn't need it right now, and it would hinder humans trying to counter them. Lorna raised her hands, and with a twist of her wrists sent out an electro magnetic pulse. Lights and computers sparked as they cut out, and it certainly drew attention to them as Lorna stepped off Illyana's disk.

"Where's Stark?"

TONY: Tony was a futurist. It was in his genetic makeup, in the very core of his being. Long before he even knew what the word meant, Tony looked out to the horizon, trying to predict what would be on the other side, and always coming up short. With all the IQ points in the world, with all of his degrees and all of his power and prestige and intelligence, Tony still didn’t know exactly what tomorrow would bring, and it fascinated him.

Of course, people were far more predictable than the world at large. Tony knew from the first time he met Erik Lehnsherr that he had a plan in place, that it would come to fruition much sooner than Ross and the Panel imagined. Tony also knew that at least some aspect of said plan would involve him. It was the logical choice. Go for the face of the Accords, send a message.

So he’d put a plan in place, one MJ, Mike, Roy, any and all of his employees knew now like the back of their hand. An evacuation strategy, one that was already set into motion when the lights flickered out and Tony could taste electricity in the air, when the arc reactor sped up in response. In the moments before the group arrived, Tony poured himself some whiskey over ice, slipped on a pair of his own adapted sunglasses, and crossed his legs on his desk, leaning back in his chair.

If he was going to be killed for a cause, he was going to die as he lived.

His cool facade was somewhat upended when he heard the words echo through the building, though. With a sigh, Tony pushed himself up from his desk, following FRIDAY’s instructions down several corridors before he came face to face with the attacker … herself?

Now that was interesting. “Wow,” Tony said, a small smile coming onto his face. “So it is true. I really see the family resemblance.” He turned to the other man — FRIDAY provided the codename Havok, though of course Tony knew that already. “On both counts.”

He took a long sip of his drink, and the smile faded. “Let my people go,” he said, “and I won’t cause any problems. Suit disengaged.” He held up his hand that wasn’t holding the glass, demonstrating the nanotech chip on his wrist flickering blue, then going dull. “I’m sick of being on the wrong side of history — and I’m a little drunk and on a whole boatload of painkillers for this migraine, so whatever you do will probably tickle.”

EMMA: Emma may have been many things but one thing one could always rely on was her desire to help her people. Whether they liked her or not did not bother her. Whether they cared for or wished she would just drop dead was not important. She had not carved her way this far to simply hide in the shadows. To not fight for her people. A change was coming and despite their friction, Emma and Erik agreed on one thing that made their partnership of the Hellfire Club make sense; that mutants would rise and no longer be hindered by the creations of man.

Feeling the others glance at each other, Emma remained stoic if not seemingly unbothered by it all. She was running through different scenarios in her head. She would love to tell them how wrong this could all go. That maybe they wouldn’t all make it but even she hoped that wouldn’t be the case. They were going to get what they deserved in her eyes and Stark Tower? Well, she had to admit, she took a little bit of personal pleasure of it being an Avenger of all people. People celebrated for the very things they were cursed and killed for. At Alex’s words, Emma smirked a little. “Careful darling. You almost sound excited. Not very Summers of you.” She chuckled.

As Illyana opened her portal, Emma stepped through. Well, if you could call it that, Emma walked with a strut. With a purpose. As they appeared in Stark Tower, Emma’s shoulders drew back, and her chin raised in a proud manner. She may not be an actual queen, but she sure carried herself as if she were. “Flawless, Illyana.” Emma commented on the smooth transition of getting them into Stark Tower.

At Tony’s words, Emma looked him up and down before making a sound of disgust under her breath. At his words, Emma stepped forward. “Tony, darling, unlike you homo sapiens who resort to such Neanderthal methods, mutants like to consider ourselves above such primitive actions.” As he mentioned that he had a migraine and their actions would barely tickle him, Emma chuckled. “Then again, I’m certainly not above sinking my manicure into that thing you dare call a mind.” She looked to the others after a brief pause. “Another time perhaps.”

ALEX: The blonde grabbing onto Lorna’s hand that was reaching out for him. He squeezes her palm in return, anything that they do would be done together. Which extends to the rest of their team as well, knowing that communication will be important with what they do going forward. His lips stretches into a smile for a moment, but Alex shifts his gaze to look over at Emma before stepping through the portal. “Very funny.” He chuckles as well, but his expression returning to a more serious one after materializing on the other side in Stark Tower. He knows this could land him back in the Raft again, but Alex doesn’t care because doing this feels right.

His arms are crossed over his chest for the time being, looking around briefly at the surroundings after the power is cut off. Alex brings his focus back so to watch Tony Stark approach them. There‘s a sense of pride in the fact people look at him and can see the resemblance of Scott in him. His older brother raised him more than their own parents did so wearing the Summers name will always make Alex feel proud. He even got rid of his adoptive family’s name when the Mutant was eighteen to wear the one that he was born with again as a way of feeling close to his older brother. “You sound a little speechless there, Stark. You should know what we’re capable of then by knowing our families.” He looks at the others for a moment, exchanging a few glances while managing a grin as his hands are repositioned on his hips.

His voice silent while listening to Emma and the way she responded to the demands for allowing the employees to leave. Alex doesn’t see why not, the Humans working here weren’t needed for what their intentions were in coming to secure the tower. “You won’t cause any problems? How can we be sure that you’ll stay true to your word if we let them go? Your tech might be turned off right now, but you’ll have to excuse me for being a little cautious.”

ILLYANA: When she was younger she'd had trouble with her mutant powers, either ending up in the wrong place, the wrong date or both, now though she easily teleported all of them to Stark Tower without any problems. "If I didn't know any better I'd say that was a compliment, Emma" the blonde commented dryly before she turned her attention to Tony. Though her attention was soon pulled to the demonic squirrel on her shoulder who had started lightly tugging on her hair. "Not now Scott, I'll get you something to eat soon" she told him, he didn't seem too happy but he settled down on her shoulder, for the moment at least, allowing Illyana to focus on the task at hand.

Tony said he wouldn't cause problems if they let everyone go, which sounded like a fair deal, though like Alex she was also cautious, not sure if he'd keep his word. "It's the building we want right? I say I just teleport them all outside and be done with it" she suggested, she didn't have much in the way of patience.

TONY: The situation was far from ideal, but it also wasn’t the worst case scenario he had planned for. Tony had always been a scorched Earth policy kind of guy. He was used to everyone being the worst version of a person they could be since he was a child. Erik’s people -- mutants -- hadn’t come into his Tower and burned the place to the ground. They hadn’t taken him as a hostage like the Ten Rings did, didn’t use him as a medal to wear around their necks. They’d allowed, for the most part, his employees to leave the building unharmed. All he had to do was negotiate to a level where the others were safe too, and they could take the marble staircases and burn his father’s grand piano and rifle through papers that he’d already sorted through, taking anything that was particularly sensitive to an undisclosed location before this ever went down.

He had a lot to lose. These people, they never had anything. That was the difference. Anything they wanted to do, Tony figured he deserved -- but he couldn’t let his people suffer for what he had done, for the system that he represented.

“You act like you’ve never probed my brain over steak, Emma darling,” Tony replied, but even his cavalier attitude couldn’t stand up against the people standing in front of him, gathered in a line debating internally what to do with him. “You make a fair point,” he said, gesturing to Summers, “and so does the, uh … Witch? Sorceress? Magic girl.” (He wasn’t thinking about magic right now. He did not need something else to add insult to injury.) “Teleport me and my employees outside. You say you don’t know whether you can trust me or not, but do that, and I’ll prove that I’m not working against you.”

Tony couldn’t say he was on their side. He couldn’t say that because he didn’t know what they’d been through. They didn’t want Tony Stark fighting for them. But he wasn’t against them. He would help if he could. “What you’re doing has been a long time coming,” he said, “but you didn’t need me to tell you that. I just … I hope you know that what I’ve done, I did because I wanted transparency. Openness. Accountability. I never wanted these robots in the air -- and if I can, when this settles down, I’d like to help you figure out how to stop it happening again, if you were interested.”

LORNA: Lorna didn't say anything as the people began to evacuate. It was clear that Stark had expected--or at least prepared for--some kind of attack like this. She raised her chin slightly as he seemed to take her in. Her reaction to the comment about family resemblance was not as proud as Alex's. Still, in this context, resembling the fearsome Magneto was not a bad thing. "It is," she confirmed. "And Havok is right. You know what we can do. You don't want to find out what the others can do too."

His 'let my people go' comment got an annoyed eyeroll from her. But she didn't say anything, letting Alex voice the same questions that rose to her mind. She didn't trust Stark. At all. He was the public face of these Accords as much as the politicians who pushed them through. Whatever his intentions, it didn't matter. Lorna had seen the way the Accords had allowed families to be torn apart, and innocent people to be attacked for what they were. Laura Kinney's sister disappeared after being arrested, Sam and his kid--a baby-- had been attacked. And it emboldened hatred. Every. Day.

Once upon a time, Lorna had believed in a dream of unity. Of mutants living peacefully among humans. But she'd grown weary of dreaming. Weary of hurting and hiding. Her father was right. "Magik is right," she said firmly. "We don't need him. And if he makes trouble for us, we'll handle it. We don't need hostages here." Not when the island of Manhattan would be their hostages, assuming Erik's plan went smoothly. "We'll let your people go. And you, Stark."

Lorna raised her eyebrow. "Well, congratulations on figuring out you're on the wrong side," she said wryly. "But I hope you're not looking for forgiveness." He could try somewhere else if he was, but Lorna was not in the mood. His offer made her just shake her head. "Flattering offer. I think we can figure it out."

EMMA: Emma scoffed under her breath. “I probed a lot more than your mind, Tony dear and to be expected from the track record of your life, inadequate at best.” Emma may be many things but she was perhaps one of the few people who could match Tony Stark’s sharp tongue with her own blow for blow. That had to be credited for something right? She left them to interact her gaze slowly drifting to Lorna. She nodded as she spoke. ”The way you are handling this is astounding. I am truly astonished, Miss Dane.” She always thought Erik’s spawn was a liability but Lorna was proving herself to perhaps be the strongest, something even Emma didn’t see coming.

Emma glanced back to Tony as he spoke about the act. “You need to remember darling, you Avengers may have not chosen the predicaments you are in but you aren’t prosecuted, experimented on and murdered for having them.” Emma told him firmly. She didn’t know how the others felt about her saying it but that was the facts she had seen it with her very eyes. The people she had lost. Naming grey hairs after dead friends and children. “Registering to your accords would mean simply registering for being born.” Emma explained before her facial expression became more icy if that was possible. “You may say you are not against us but don’t ever pretend that you and your people stood with us.”

Emma looked to Lorna and have her a small nod, showing her confidence in what she was saying. She couldn’t ever be more proud. “Pity we can’t keep him. I’d quite like a play thing to clean my boots.” Emma chuckled as if they were all just having a normal conversation. “Until we meet again as we always do, Mr. Stark.”

ALEX: There’s always a level of suspicion when it comes to Humankind claiming to side with his people. His own adoptive parents don’t always know how to support him, so how can Alex expect a complete stranger to act in his best interest? Although maybe it isn’t really to make his future better, but for the next generation and all Mutants. Which is why the blonde wasn’t so quick to believe Tony wouldn’t blast them when their backs are turned. While they could handle such an attack — that isn’t how Alex hoped this would go. He doesn’t think all Humans are bad.

His blue eyes watch as the employees are leaving the building, some running in a hurry as if their time was almost up. Although turns back to the man standing before the four of them. “I agree with them on this.” His hands gesturing to Lorna and Emma. “When have your kind ever done anything to help us while we were being hunted in the streets? When they went after our children?” His mind flashes to Josiah who was just a baby and it makes him so angry, but keeps his composure. He inhales to take a deep breath while letting the others put in their own two cents.

“You and your staff can go. We didn’t come here to take hostages. You won’t get forgiveness from me either though.” His eyes look to Illyana, nodding as if you say that if she wishes to teleport Tony out of the building maybe now was the time. Along with any of the other employees who haven’t gotten out yet.

He feels a sense of pride in how well the four of them are handling this, but was there really any doubt?

ILLYANA: She wasn't really interested in whatever apology or excuses Stark had, it wouldn't change anything and so she mostly ignored him. When Alex told Stark that he and everyone else could leave and nodded at Illyana she went over to stand next to Tony. "I'll be back in a few minutes" she told the others then turned to Tony "try to stay inside the circle if you want to keep all your limbs" with that she conjured a stepping disk under their feet and teleported them away. She went through the entire building until everyone of Tony Stark's employees were teleported outside before returning to Alex, Lorna and Emma. "It's done, we're the only ones left in the building."

For now, at least.

#c: alex summers #c: lorna dane #c: tony stark #c: illyana rasputin #c: emma frost #f: discord #d: so you want to start a war ( side a )

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fullmetalscullyy · 5 years ago

Text

a conspiracy theory - chapter 3

co-written by @snowdog49 and @jeanhaavoc

summary: Detective Roy takes on a challenging task… To find Olivier Armstrong’s sword. However, he has a beautiful woman to distract him along the way. Will he, Jean, and Ed be able to find the sword in time, or will they succumb to the conspiracy?

warning: graphic depictions of violence

tags: conspiracy, pining, unresolved sexual tension, private detective au, royai, havolina, mystery, violence, modern au, coffee shops

rated: m | words: 3277

read on ao3

“You want me to do what?”

Roy grabbed his shoulder holster and put it on, slipping it over his shoulders. He pulled his pistol out of his holder, checking to make sure it was loaded before putting it back.

“Are you serious?”

Roy nodded as he put his jacket on.

Ed stared at him. “How do we know we’re going to find it?”

“We don’t.” Roy handed him a sport coat and a button-down shirt. “Here, look a bit more professional.”

“Jean wears polos.”

“Jean isn’t coming.”

Edward pulled off his shirt and awkwardly started buttoning up the white shirt. “This isn’t even going to matter.”

Rebecca came over to him, wrapping a tie around his neck. “Looks do matter. You need to look like you know what you’re doing, not that you don’t.” She started tying the knot. Roy watched as he tied his own.

“If you look like a professional, they will treat you like one,” Jean added. “Though I’d really like to know why this sword is so freaking important.”

Roy walked over to his desk and opened the drawer. “This is why.” He pulled out the hefty cheque and handed it to his blonde coworker.

Jean stumbled in his place. “Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” Ed leaned towards them only to be straightened by Rebecca who finished the tie.

“This is three times the payment of a regular assignment!”

Roy nodded. “Will you get that deposited for me?”

Jean whistled low. “All that money just for a sword,” he chuckled. He wafted the cheque in front of him like it was a fan.

“Yeah, and if it goes missing, I’ll know exactly where to look.”

“You wound me, Roy,” Jean pouted, clutching at his chest. “I’ll cash your check, don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he cooed, then laughed heartily as Roy shot him a glare. Jean picked up his jacket tossing it over his shoulder and holding it with a few fingers. “I’ll make myself scarce and do some actual detective work today, and leave you to your little medieval sword mission.”

“Now tuck in your shirt,” Rebecca said with a smile to Edward. The young man looked more than overwhelmed as he tucked in his shirt. Roy had to wonder if he’d ever dressed like this before.

She turned around to grab at Roy and straighten his tie. “You better be careful with him, Roy.”

He didn’t respond. He had every intention of being careful.

“I’m serious,” she warned, pulling on the tie as a good warning.

Roy pulled back from her and loosened the tie so he could breathe, glaring at the woman of the office.

“Heymans is harmless,” Jean chuckled from his desk.

It didn’t mean that they didn’t need to be careful. He watched Edward put on the jacket and adjust it. It didn’t fit him perfectly, but it’d work for this instance.

“We’re going to walk right into an black market art dealer and ask him if he’s seen a sword?” Ed raised his eyebrow towards the three of them.

Roy nodded. “Something like that.”

Ed looked back at Rebecca.

“While you two are gone, I’ll get you contact information for a few interviews,” Rebecca turned to sit at her desk. “You said Senator Raven, correct?”

Roy nodded. “Yeah. See if you can organize a meeting with him as well.”

“You got it, Boss.”

“Have fun,” Jean rubbed the top of Edward's head affectionately while Roy opened the door. “Be smart about it.”

“Any advice?” Ed looked up at Jean before following after Roy. He looked almost scared, overwhelmed at the sudden assignment. Roy was sure he was more uncomfortable about it since they had hard feelings for each other after the fight yesterday. He was going to make it up to Ed though. He wasn’t going to let those hard feelings come between them.

Jean grinned. “Let Heymans do the talking. The less he knows about you, the better. The more you know about him, the better. Lastly, don’t ever give away that what you’re looking for is important. Heymans will want it more than you.”

Ed blinked two times before following Roy out the door. They turned down the sidewalk and walked over towards Roy’s car. It was normally parked at the office and Ed had rarely seen Roy drive it except on certain occasions. It wasn’t the newest of models, but it was clean and ran without problems.

“Get in,” Roy instructed, opening his side. As they got settled, Roy turned on the car and checked his mirrors. “Ed, I did want to apologize for blowing up yesterday.”

Ed’s mouth should have landed in his lap. Roy would have expected it to. He was not a man of apologies, especially not to Ed.

“I shouldn’t have let it get out of hand. I wanted to make sure you understand that you’re a part of our team.” Roy pulled out onto the street, checking the lanes before moving into a turning lane. His eyes remained on the street while his hands tightened on the steering wheel. It was indeed hard for him to say sorry. However, Rebecca said something to him and it struck home hard. Ed was impressionable. It was Roy’s responsibility to make him into a good detective, not someone who hated authority more because his mentors were assholes. He sighed. “I wasn’t very professional in the way I handled things.”

Ed blinked again. He could see the young man trying to decide if he needed to say something or not. Roy didn’t expect anything from him. That was fine. Roy didn’t think Ed ever had a proper male authority figure in his life. But neither did Roy.

“We just have to do things by the book to provide evidence to our clients. We have to have the utmost dignity and with integrity.” He glanced over to see Ed’s eyes on his lap where his fingers were fidgeting. “Listen, Ed, you may have breezed through school easily and been left to get on with things in any way you see fit, and I admire your ability to do that, however this is the real world. If you do what you suggested, and get caught, your ass is on the line. So is mine, for authorizing it, and we both go to jail. So does Jean for working the case with you. He’s an accomplice. So’s Rebecca. There are always consequences for your actions, okay?” Roy prompted him gently. “Remember that.”

Ed nodded slowly.

“You're my employee and I want to make sure you’re alright.”

“Just an employee, huh?” Ed asked, but there was no bite to his tone as he looked out the window.

“If we gave each other a chance, we could maybe be partners one day.” Roy grinned sideways and turned in an intersection.

Edward sighed heavily, obviously struggling with what to say. “I just feel like I’m being underutilized. I’m left with all the bitchwork that you guys don’t want to do.”

“Okay, first of all,” Roy stated calmly. “Language.”

Ed scowled at him.

“Do it at home, do it with your friends, I really don’t care, but in my office, and working for me, you will watch your language,” Roy warned. They’d already had this conversation, but Roy hoped that now, on more even and calmer terms, it would go through to Ed. “Respect is earned, Edward. And it goes both ways.”

“You swear all the time.” Ed glared at Roy.

“Do as I say, not as I do.” It was a stupid excuse, but Roy admitted he needed to watch his language.

“You don’t even seem to respect me,” he muttered. He crossed his arms and sunk into the seat.

“Because look at the attitude I get,” Roy laughed in disbelief. “Would you do the same for someone who spoke to you the way you speak to me?”

“I’m not a kid,” he spat.

Roy could already feel the conversation getting out of hand again. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Okay, just like Jean said. Try another tactic. “No, you’re not. You’re an apprentice. Better than that, you’re a paid apprentice. Not many can claim that title. And do you know why?”

“Why?” he mumbled back, still refusing to look at Roy.

“Because you’re good. Professionally, I respect you enough for that. You work with computers in a way I’ve never seen before. Probably the best technological addition to the team since we got that useless 3D printer,” he joked.

Ed let out a cough of a laugh, and his lips quirked upwards.

“You’ve got real talent, but talent will only take you so far. I’ve… slacked on that recently. I’ve been giving you smaller jobs because they’re safer and they’re simple for you to do. It wasn’t intended to insult your intelligence, it was a means of preparing you for starting to work on bigger cases, like this one.” Roy reminded him, pulling the car into a parking lot. “You have to start at the bottom like all of us did.” He parked the car and killed the engine. “I have to start from the bottom too. So, let’s see what we can find out together.”

They got out of the car and Roy ran his fingers through his hair.

“He’s in there?” Ed pointed towards an office building.

He nodded. “Not all black market dealers live in dark basements of the underworld,” he joked. As they started walking together, Roy nudged him gently. “Lesson one: You do the small jobs to establish connections. You get useful contacts for simple things, like car garages that you can call upon for a favour at some point. You have to build up respect with your peers in the field. That’s the only way you’ll really help people.”

“You’re really in it to help people?” Ed asked doubtfully, but there was still a hint of hope in his tone.

Roy nodded, stepping slowly up the stairs to the building.

“Jean said you were in it for the money.”

Roy laughed loudly and rolled his eyes. “Jean says a lot of things. This case we can say it’s more about the money. But,” he opened the door, “you can’t say that we’re not curious as to why this sword is worth so much, right?”

“I suppose so, yeah.”

“And I’m helping a client find an heirloom of their family. I could’ve turned it down, even if it’s worth so much.”

Ed stopped in the lobby of the big office building and looked around. There was a reason why he was in a suit. Everyone in the building was wearing one. The light tile marble floor under their feet and the bright lights above them screamed business of the most expensive kind. This was a place lawyers and bank officials set up their homes. Just by the look on Ed’s face, Roy would’ve guessed that Ed had also never been in a building like this one. He let Ed gawk as he walked over to the directory and searched for Heymans’ name.

“While we are there,” he broke Ed’s attention, “I want you to watch his body language. I also want you to look at his office. It tells you a lot about a man. Like Jean said, don’t let him know what the sword is worth. Instead, we want to inquire about it.”

“I thought you said we had to do things legally,” Edward interjected, but there was no scowl on his face. Just a raised eyebrow.

“We’re just going to talk to him. Is talking to someone illegal?”

“The black market isn’t legal.”

Roy pointed to the sign.

“Heymans Breda, art consultant?” Ed looked back at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Roy waved over his shoulder as they walked towards the elevator. “It’s not illegal to talk.” The doors on the elevators closed with a light and joyful ‘bing’. “Where do you think we should start first?” Roy prompted.

Ed shrugged. “You said we are just going to ask him.” He looked down, biting his lip. “Why would someone steal something that stood out as much as a sword? If it was sold off, someone would take notice of it. Especially if it had the family name carved into it.”

“Exactly.”

“So…”

Roy pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “This is what we’re going to do. I’m going to ask him if he’s seen a sword like this one. Heymans is probably going to deny it right away considering that he knows us. But you’re going to ask again.”

“Me?”

Roy nodded. “In a calm voice too. Don’t demand it. Just ask him. Watch for a pause.”

Minutes later Roy and Ed arrived at a door with the letters spelling out Breda, Heymans on the frosted glass. Roy opened the door and nodded at the secretary. “We are here to see Mr. Breda.”

“Detective Mustang?”

Roy nodded.

“I’ll let him know you’re here.”

He could almost hear Ed’s gulp and see the sweat drip from the young man’s brow.

“Roy!” The two looked up to see a heavier fellow with bright red hair grin at the two of them. He had this wide grin on this face, as if he’d just won the lottery, and a warm booming voice. He sounded and looked like he could take the attention in any room. However, Roy knew he wasn’t dumb. The man held himself with confidence and even in a fist fight, Roy imagined that Heymans would be hard to overthrow. It was going to be the same in conversation. “Jean told me you’d be coming. How can I help you?”

They followed Heymans into his office where Roy took a seat. “We are actually looking for a particular sword.”

Heymans laughed and leaned back in his office chair. “I haven’t seen a sword lately.”

“No,” Roy shook his head and handed him the picture. “I mean, a sword.”

The two watched as Heymans shook his head and handed the picture back.

“I deal in art, Mustang. Not swords.”

“Swords can be considered an art piece,” Ed piped up, his tone casual as he continued to look around the room with fascinated interest.

The office was very minimalist in regards to furniture, however colourful and bright artworks covered the walls. There were so many dotted everywhere that it drew focus away from the boring black and white furniture.

Heymans’ eyes flicked to Ed’s for a second as he regarded him. Roy forced himself not to smile as he caught the corner of his eye twitch.

“They can,” Heymans replied carefully. “However, not in my line of work.”

“What’s that?” Ed asked, pointing towards a photograph of Heyman’s and another man shaking hands, holding a sword between them. Roy assumed it was at some kind of auction.

Heymans eyed Roy more carefully this time. “So, a sword, huh?”

Roy nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind giving us a moment of your time.”

“Looks like I don’t have a choice,” Heymans chuckled as he raised his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t lying though, I haven’t seen a sword coming through lately. There’s been no chatter of one and no accounts of anything like that,” he nodded towards the photo.

“Nothing at all?” Edward asked.

“I’m not lying to you, Kid.”

Roy caught Ed huff out the corner of his eye, so took charge of the conversation. “That’s not why my partner was implying, Heymans. We’re just curious.”

“I’ve seen nothing.”

“Okay. If you do, could you give me a call?” Roy handed over a business card.

“Who’s it for?”

“The Armstrongs.”

Heymans whistled low. “Then it really is important.”

Roy shrugged. “I don’t know the significance of it. It’s just some really old sword. An easy job to tide us over for a while.”

“Work slow?” Heymans asked conversationally, but Roy knew he was fishing.

“Not at all. We’re just taking small jobs here and there while things are quiet.” He caught another photograph on display on the wall behind Heymans. It was him standing with Olivier, Alex, the oldest son, and the Armstrong family patriarch, Philip Gargantos Armstrong. Honestly, some people just made it too easy for Roy. “I notice you appear to be quite close with the Armstrongs.”

“I have been,” Heymans replied carefully. He was guarded again, but he shouldn’t show off so much about his clients. “In the past.”

“So you would know if something of theirs showed up on the market somewhere?”

“I would, yes. That family inscribes their name on everything,” he chuckled, relaxing his shoulders. “Makes it very hard to sell sometimes because items can be traced back to a very powerful family.”

“Let me know if anything comes up,” Roy stated, standing from his chair. Ed followed suit shortly after him.

“I will, Roy. And you take care, all right?” He wondered if this was considered a threat, but his open and earnest eyes led Roy to believe this sword really was more important than they all thought.

“It’s just a sword,” Roy chuckled. “It will turn up in a week or so. Or it’s been misplaced in the house somewhere by one of their servants,” he joked. “It won’t take long, but we’ve got to cover all the bases, I suppose,” Roy sighed.

“I hear you,” Heymans laughed. “Especially for the rich. They expect miracles from nothing.”

“Always. Thank you for your time, Mr. Breda.”

They said their goodbyes and it wasn’t until they were outside the building that Ed finally spoke.

“So he really has no idea?”

“No,” Roy shook his head. “Even if we are private detectives, he’s a businessman and moving items is important. It’s likely he’ll look for a client anywhere. Plus, if he’s as close with the Armstrongs as his photographs indicate, he’ll probably want to help. Whether that's for a future favour or out of personal curiosity, I don’t know, and I really don’t care.”

Roy slid into the driver’s seat of the car and started the engine.

“He really does like to show off, doesn’t he?”

“He’s prolific,” Roy shrugged. “And he’s good at what he does. Clients coming in and seeing that caliber of items displayed proudly will make them more likely to put their trust and requests in him. It’s all strategy.”

Edward nodded thoughtfully. His fist came to rest underneath his chin while his elbow rested by the car window.

“And you have a good eye,” Roy commented. “Well done for spotting that photo of him and the sword.”

“He made it easy,” Edward dismissed.

“That was my thoughts exactly,” Roy chuckled. “When we get back, could you head out to some pawn shops and do the same as what we did with Heymans?”

“Me?” He sounded surprised.

Roy nodded. “I want to run up a list of possible interviews with the people who were at the party now that we have slimmed down the chance of it being moved into the black market.”

“As in… me. By myself?”

Roy nodded again. “You’re slow on the uptake for a supposed genius,” he snickered.

“Hey,” Ed narrowed his eyes, affronted by his comment. “Maybe if I’d been given more work like this before I wouldn’t comment on it.” Where before he would have snapped at Roy, now there was just a tiny bite to his words. It was justified, but it was also progress. He wasn’t yelling at Roy, so it was a start.

“We’ve all got to start somewhere,” Roy reminded lightly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ed muttered. “But still… thanks,” he muttered.

Roy grinned to himself. “Any time, Partner.”

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai au #snowdog49 #a conspiracy theory #emma writes #collab fic

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arigatouiris · 6 years ago

Text

Catching Feelings — Connor [03]

Pairing: Deviant! Connor x Reader

Word Count: 2426

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, clumsy!reader, timid!reader (not for long), mentions of anxiety, inappropriate boss behavior (basically Gavin being Gavin)

Author’s Note: I think I’m kinda proud of this chapter, tbh. Dunno. Let me know what ya’ll think, lovelies~

Also, those who want to be on the taglist, just send me an ask~

Summary: She tells him there’s no need to look anywhere else for answers.

Chapter Three: Shy

○

Connor never slept.

It was about being an android, he didn’t think he needed sleep. Hank had asked him to move in with him, and he had wondered if there were any belongings Connor might need help in carrying over to his house. He was wrong.

Connor had an extra android jacket that he never wore anymore, and a few pairs of clothes. And by few, Connor had merely two. Hank wasn’t too concerned, considering how Connor didn’t need to shower, he wouldn’t smell, he probably didn’t have to worry about his body itching from the weather—none of these mattered to him in anyway. This was perhaps the only aspect of being an android that Hank thought might be beneficial.

The rest, not so much.

However, that night, as Hank slept in his room and Connor stayed still waiting for the morning, he heard something. A loud thud sounded from Hank’s room, which alerted Sumo and Connor, who slowly crept up to see what the sound was. Connor instantaneously scanned Hank’s room and found that Hank’s cortisol levels were incredibly high, but he remained asleep. He had heard of something like this before; he knew what it was called. Connor opened Hank’s door quietly and watched the older man fumble in his bed, twist and turn raggedly, as if something was slithering inside of him.

Hank was having a nightmare. This was Connor’s first encounter with a nightmare, and he was bewildered. His eyes were wide and his LED was turning a bright yellow. Sumo was next to him, whining and not barking—something Connor knew would perhaps not help the situation.

“What should we do?” Connor muttered to himself and researched on over 800 methods to help assist Hank when he was in the middle of battling a nightmare.

He found a method that perfectly suited Hank’s personality and reduce the probable damage that Hank might ensue upon Connor if he followed through with this method. Slowly taking one of his shoes off, Connor directed it at the wall beside Hank’s bed and threw it there. There was a thud, which caused Hank to jolt awake in his sleep, gasping for air as if he had resurfaced from underwater.

Hank’s eyes landed on Connor’s form and Sumo standing beside him, his tail wagging. He was breathing heavily now, his shoulders going up and down, but Connor noticed how Hank’s cortisol levels were returning to normal.

“You were having a nightmare, Hank.” Connor whispered.

“Why the fuck are you whispering?” Hank snapped, rubbing a hand across his face.

“I don’t mean to stress you out, Lieutenant, but I believe the best method to approach a nightmare—”

“Fuck off, Connor,” Hank said, looking visibly distressed. “You don’t know what a fucking nightmare is. Don’t tell me what to do. Now, get out of my room.”

Connor paused. He walked over to Hank’s bed side, confusing the older male, and bent down to pick his shoe. Hank scoffed before lying back down on his bed, and Connor walked out of the room with Sumo by his side. There was something in the way Hank said it that distressed him, he didn’t like being told he didn’t understand what a nightmare was. He had read the definition, he had seen videos of how it might happen, and he had studied several methods on quelling them. Clearly, he had to be an expert.

Then what was this entire plot in only allowing someone to know something if and only if they had felt it?

Connor thought over this conflict for the rest of the night and the early part of the next day. As Hank made himself breakfast, and fed Sumo, Connor sat down and wondered. It wasn’t as if Hank didn’t notice his partner lost in thought, having lost the usual spark he carried every morning. Whatever it was he was doing, Hank only observed one thing from it all.

“Listen, Connor,” Hank said, sitting himself down in front of Connor on the table, “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m like that when I’m woken up… I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Is there a reason one can only understand something if and only if they have felt it?” Connor’s question startled Hank.

“What do you mean?”

Connor shrugged once before saying, “I know what a nightmare is. I know the possible causes, I know how to help someone if they have one, or repetitive nightmares. I have seen videos, understood what occurs in the brain, and yet… Yet, you tell me I don’t know what a nightmare is and that’s because I haven’t felt it, is that correct?”

Hank blinked a couple of times before closing his open jaw.

“Connor, there are some things… Some things that make human beings human. Pain, pleasure, these nightmares and dreams and the like, whatever restricted to thought—these are human things. Human beings—”

“That is incorrect,” Connor pointed out, “Androids are capable of independent thought and can now feel pleasure and pain. But, that does not make us human.”

Hank sighed, “Look, I can’t explain it to you.”

Connor tilted his head, “Why not?”

Now, Hank groaned, “Because I don’t know how to! Go ask someone else, Connor. I ain’t good at all these things. Hell, I can’t answer them myself. I don’t know, alright? Just… I’m sorry I snapped at you last night. You were moping around feeling bad about it and that’s why—”

“I was merely trying to place an appropriate reason as to why you believed I did not know what a nightmare was, despite knowing the definition for it. I wasn’t moping around and feeling bad—”

“Jesus.” Hank snapped before just focusing on his breakfast. Connor took the hint and quieted down.

○

When he walked into the station that morning, he noticed (y/n) sitting there, browsing through something on her computer.

Connor smiled before quickly approaching her, ignoring Hank who was beside him.

“Good morning, Miss (l/n).” Connor said, smiling at her.

He couldn’t understand why he felt so relieved to see her. He observed the way she had done her hair that day, neatly pushed back; he noticed the bags under her eyes and how she yawned a moment before he approached her. He studied her vitals a second later, and learned she was normal but a bit sleep deprived.

“Oh, Connor, please just call me (y/n). We’re friends.” She said, smiling up at him.

Her eyes looked tired. Connor’s smile washed away with the realization. She looked at his falling smile and blinked a couple of times.

“Is something wrong?”

“You’re sleep deprived. Your adenosine levels are high. You haven’t had a good night’s sleep,” Connor gasped a small gasp before saying, “It clearly isn’t a good morning. I apologize.”

Her eyes widened at his words before she broke out laughing. Connor blinked a couple of times before noticing her get up from her desk. She held his hand in hers and giggled once more. She leaned to the side and waved at someone behind Connor, he assumed it was Hank.

“You’re very cute, Connor.”

Connor’s eyes widened and his LED turned red. There was an unfamiliar feeling in his mind that caused a mild ache in his chest area. He immediately ran a software check to see if there were any issues, but everything seemed fine. Her hand still held his and there was a part of him that never wanted to let her go. His gaze then shifted to her, in front of him, smiling at him and only him.

“I’m…cute?”

“Very! Come with me while I make a cup of coffee. That’ll help with the drowsiness.”

Connor followed after her, their hands now not linked together anymore. He felt low instantly, but he looked forward to holding her hand again in the future. He noticed how she walked, how she smiled at those she knew, and he suddenly felt it again—the protective feeling he felt the other day when Gavin had yelled at her.

When they reached the cafeteria, all Connor could do was stare at her. She turned around and smiled at him, which caused that weird feeling to come by; the feeling near his chest area. He placed a hand on the left part of his chest, right where his pump was situated, and stared into nothingness. When (y/n) turned around with a cup of coffee and approached to sit in front of Connor, she noticed him in that position.

“Oh goodness,” She gasped, “Does your chest hurt or something?”

Connor shook his head and looked at her worried face. She’s worried, he thought to himself, She’s worried for me? He wanted to gasp, he wanted to understand if this was even possible. It didn’t make sense to him on how a human being, so marvellously flawed like herself, could possess the ability to empathize with an android?

“I don’t feel pain, (y/n).” She had instructed him to call her by her first name.

Connor noticed the blood capillaries near her cheeks push out more blood, turning her cheeks red. Blushing, he understood. He quickly researched why people blush—when they’re feeling shy, embarrassed or scared.

“Are you scared?” He asked, not realizing his voice was a whisper.

(y/n) blinked before shaking her head, “No, I’m not. Why do you think so?”

Connor’s hand instinctively went up to her cheek, causing her eyes to widen. He had sensors situated at his hands, giving him the ability to feel different textures of objects when he touched them. He so desperately wanted to feel her cheeks when she blushed, he hadn’t even realized he was reaching out and actually touching her.

His hand cradled her left cheek, as his thumb ran across right below her eye. Her eyes were wide, and Connor noticed how her blush darkened. His mouth fell open a tad bit before he allowed himself to graze his fingers over her cheek, softly, feeling the texture of her smooth skin, a bit of acne from stress, but none of that mattered. The feeling right then snapped something inside of him; he was not only enjoying this but he was feeling warm, a different sort of warm that had nothing to do with temperature.

He began to research this, but just as her hand placed itself on his, the one on her cheek, he almost recoiled. She placed her hand there and cupped Connor’s hand on her face, leaning into his touch.

“Don’t try to look for definitions for everything,” She whispered, “Just allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling.”

He couldn’t. If he didn’t look for the meaning of what he felt, he would never know. He was not human, he could not understand these emotions if he didn’t look for the meaning manually.

“Don’t give us so much credit, Connor,” She giggled, now holding his hand, bringing it down from her cheek and entwining her fingers with his. “We don’t understand half the shit we’re feeling sometimes.”

“You don’t?” He looked confused.

She shook her head, “If I knew what I was feeling at least half the time that I was feeling them, I’d probably be so much more in control of my own life. You can’t imagine how deeply flawed people are. It’s completely bonkers,” She chuckled, “But, it’s so beautiful.”

Connor tightened the grip on her fingers, “I feel like touching you sometimes. I apologize if this is inappropriate.”

(y/n) merely blinked at him before tilting her head, “But, why?”

Connor shrugged before scrunching his face, “I once discussed with Hank about this, and he told me I felt protective over you because of how Detective Reed treats you. But, that wasn’t it. I couldn’t stop associated some of the things you did with Sumo, and Hank told me it was—”

“Sumo?”

“He is Hank’s dog.”

“Hank has a dog?”

Connor nodded, “A saint Bernard.”

“And you associated me with a saint Bernard?” (y/n) asked, shock clear on her face.

“Hank told me that’s because I thought you were cute,” (y/n) was taken aback, her blush now increasing, “And that is true.”

“Oh, Connor!” She covered her face with her hands, and whined.

“Did I say something wrong?”

She didn’t respond right away. She breathed a bit before whining some more and then brought her hands down. She looked at him, and Connor found that her face was now entirely red, and she sighed.

“You just called me cute. How else did you think I’d respond?”

“I’m not sure.” Connor said.

(y/n) giggled before leaning across the table and landing a soft kiss on Connor’s cheek. His eyes widened and he paused, as if time slowly stilled. He felt the same feeling he felt when he would get a notification about a software instability, which now never happened because he had gone deviant. His left hand slowly slid over to the spot where (y/n) had kissed him and he just sat there. He couldn’t look at (y/n), he couldn’t meet her gaze; not that she was threatening him in any way, no.

He felt hesitant in turning to her, seeing what she was doing, but oh, he wanted to! He wanted to turn to her and see her so bad! Connor merely shut his eyes and felt everything he was feeling and while nothing made sense to him, he felt an inexplicable joy.

“Why aren’t you looking at me, Connor?”

He didn’t know. He couldn’t. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. He felt like he would burn alive if he did. What an irrational fear, he told himself, but that was what he felt.

“You’re shy.” She said, giggling.

That alerted his attention as he slowly turned to face her. She looked like someone else now—same features and everything as before, but to him right now, she was someone else.

She’s so beautiful, he thought as his eyes widened.

She stood up from the table and smiled some more at him. Connor wanted to take her hand again, but he couldn’t do it. He felt it—shy—as she had called it.

“See what happens when you allow yourself to feel?” She said, chuckling. “You have all the answers, Connor. Just let yourself be.”

And he was scared about that, in all honesty. He was scared to let himself be. Because, if he did let himself be as she instructed, something inside Connor told him it had a great deal to do with her than it did with him.

○

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antiques-for-geeks · 5 years ago

Text

Game Review: Aliens

Electric Dreams / 1987 / C64

Also released on Amstrad CPC, ZX Spectrum, MSX and C16

With one eye firmly on Halloween, we’re going to review some games that used to make us breathe heavily, grasping our joysticks tightly in our sweaty palms...

Based on James Cameron’s sequel to the archetypal sci-fi body-horror Alien, Aliens is possibly one of the most panic-inducing games of the 8-bit era. It goes without saying that it’s hard to actually scare anyone on an 8-bit computer, unless blocky, jerky and flickery graphics bring you out in a cold sweat. What you can do, however, is force the player into having to make a series of quickfire decisions under stressful conditions, juggling resources and trying to keep order in the face of the impossible, like an air traffic controller in a power cut.

Aliens is played from a first-person perspective, and at first glance seems like a fairly simple game. You start in the middle of the operations room in LV-426, in control of Ellen Ripley and a team of 5 space marines who’ve been sent to find the alien queen and rid the base of her menace. You get a cross-hair, which is where your bullets will go. You can look around to the left or right, and you can step through a door to another room with a press of the space bar.

Nothing much is happening right at the start of the game, but don’t worry, it won’t stay that way for long!

The queen sits in a room right in the depths of the base. You use the keyboard to select individual team-members, but you can only directly control one at a time. Each member is represented by a nice little image and a stat bar showing how tired they are. There are no practical differences between each team member, which is a bit of a wasted opportunity, but the images are still a nice touch if you’ve seen the film, and help the player identify with their soldiers. Your team grows weary if they move too far without a rest; they’ll be unable to move and will aim more slowly until given time to recuperate.

You can issue orders for any team member to move a number of rooms in any compass direction, and they’ll carry out your instructions to the best of their ability once you switch out. On the way you’ll encounter alien warriors, eggs and face huggers... or they’ll encounter you as they’ll actively try and hunt down your group.

When one of your characters is in the same room as an alien you’ll hear a warning noise. This is a sinister beeping when you’re not controlling the character directly, and a panic inducing klaxon when you are. What ensues next is a desperate fumble to find the correct key to select the character who is in trouble, followed by an anguished pan around the room in search of the invader. Obviously you’ve only got a limited time to do all this, and the warning tone gets quicker and increasingly agitated to make sure you’re well aware of this fact.

I see you!

Once you spot the alien, you’ve got to line him up and blast him before he gets to you. One head-shot should do it, but you won’t get a clean shot, because by now your heart rate is sure to be through the roof. He’ll run right at you too, making you waste a bunch of (limited!) ammo on him.

If you’re super lucky, several team members will be attacked at the same time, which is probably more tense than doing a driving test naked with a wasp in the car.

If the alien gets you the warning tone will change to a forlorn peep. That signifies your character being bundled up for immediate xenomorph oral impregnation. You’ve got a short time to get someone else to the room to take the alien out, but if you don’t get there in time you’ve lost them for good. Their little picture will disappear and you’ll get nothing but static if you switch to their screen.

Another nasty twist: if you blast an alien in front of a door it’ll leave a pool of acid blood which will kill your character outright should they try to exit that way.

There are a few things you can do to keep yourself alive. You can shoot out the control panels next to any door, which will prevent aliens coming through for a time. This is a one-time only deal, because you’ll have to blow the door open if you want to use it again. You can also re-stock a team member’s ammo at a specific room in the complex. This is useful, because running out of ammo is as good as a death sentence. You’ll also need a map. There’s no in game map provided, though the room number each character occupies is shown next to their image. The full price release provided a fold out map in the box, and you’ll need this. Make sure you have a copy handy, because the game is almost unplayably hard unless you have one!

One last thing. The aliens spread a sort of fungal growth around the rooms, which can cover doors and must be blasted away. There’s a generator room somewhere in the complex, and if the walls there get covered by alien fungus the LIGHTS WILL TURN OUT!

I can’t emphasise enough what bad news this is, because hunting for aliens by shadows alone is probably about as much fun as falling into the sharps bin in an STD clinic.

Film licenses had a pretty bad reputation for the discerning 8-bit gamer, tending to be shoddy and quickly thrown together efforts. Aliens is both an excellent game in its own right and perfect at evoking the tension and atmosphere of the film. There’s also quite a bit of tactical depth here too. Do you keep your group of soldiers together? Move as quickly as possible to the queen chamber? Maybe try to fan out and secure the generator room and armoury?

Ripley is looking a bit off colour today.

It’s also worth mentioning that there was also another Aliens game released for 8-bit micros, developed by Activision in the U.S. This takes a different approach to the license, presenting the film as a series of mini-game levels such as landing the drop-ship, fighting your way through the base to save Newt, the last surviving colonist, and the climactic one-on-one mechanical loader duel with the alien queen. This is also a good game, and well worth seeking out if you're a fan of the franchise, though for my money not quite as well conceived and executed as the U.K. version.

Playing it today

If you don't want to follow the obvious route of emulation and you’ve got a real C64, Amstrad CPC or Spectrum to hand, this should be easy to pick up for a few quid online. If you fancy something slightly more polished, there’s a fine looking windows PC remake ‘LV-426’ by Derbian Games that can be downloaded for free.

Commentariat

Tim: Ah, Aliens. Back when the franchise was actually scary and not a pastiche of itself.

As I suspect many others, I bought this on budget when it appeared on the Ricochet label from Mastertronic. This release really lacked the one thing that helped gameplay. A map.

The full price release had pull-out one included with the game; Mastertronic however, probably decided that including a separate sheet for just one title would have cost too much. And been yet another inlay for the staff at Menzies in the Clydebank Shopping Centre to lose. Zzap 64 published one for those of us without, but as I didn’t have that issue, I was in the dark. Quite literally, as it was more fun to play with the lights off.

Life is too short to make maps, so instead I ended up creeping about the complex, not really knowing where I was. Sounds dull, right? Well, no. The game oozes atmosphere; the graphics are tight and well executed, and though the C64’s SID chip is hardly taxed, the sounds that are there do the trick. The throbbing noise when an alien approaches, your exhausted marine out of ammo but still you frantically pull the trigger of their Pulse Rifle in the vain hope that maybe, just maybe there will be one last shell in there to give you a fighting chance. What I particularly like though is the freedom of gameplay, choosing to use your team as individuals or cooperatively as squads, investigating the different parts of the base separately. Pretty cool, when you consider it’s all done in just 64k.

Do I have fond memories of it? Yes. Would I play it again? Absolutely.

Meat: This game is an intense experience, likely to elicit some strong swear words if you’re not in the right mood for it. It’s certainly engrossing stuff though, and tough to beat. One thing though. Which genius decided that the ‘m’ key should restart the game? You know, the one next to the ‘n‘ key you use to tell your soldiers to move north? Nice one.

Pop: I played this a few years before seeing the film, but in retrospect it’s a very clever use of the license. It was also a really tense experience for an 8-bit game, particularly later on when your soldiers are assaulted by wave after wave of aliens and face huggers. Like many games of the era, it’s perhaps a little arcane for today’s audience, what with having to use the keyboard to select the different team members, but still playable and still enjoyable today. It’s the kind of game I can imagine working perfectly on a VR helmet, though that might be a little too much immersion for comfort!

Strangely enough, one of my strongest memories of this game was actually waiting for it to load off cassette tape. The Mastertronic re-release copy I played (borrowed off Tim, of course!) had a neat game of space-invaders that you got to play while waiting for the loading process to complete, accompanied by some very atmospheric music. This ‘invade-a-load’ appeared on a few C64 tape games, but in my head it’s always tied to playing Aliens.

Score card

Presentation 4/10

Very basic indeed. No intro screen, title crawl or music. The box contained a map, which is essential and should have been a part of the game itself.

Originality 8/10

An extremely novel use of a film license. The mix of first person perspective, team management and light strategy elements put this in a class of its own. Sadly, most licensed games of the 8-bit era tended to use cookie-cutter gameplay which was usually executed better elsewhere.

Graphics 7/10

Very clear and atmospheric, you’ll have no problem working out what everything is. The images for the team members are well drawn and clear for an 8-bit system. On the down side, rooms are drawn predominantly in a single colour and a little more variety in the room designs would be nice. The aliens walk like they’re going for a relaxing afternoon stroll, but the animation when they rush your position is very effective.

Hookability 7/10

Immediately intriguing, but the use of the keyboard and advanced controls for commanding team members require the investment of time to enjoy.

Sound 3/10

Played in near silence, except for gunfire and the alien warning siren. This actually makes the game more atmospheric. A title tune would have been nice.

Lastability 7/10

A decent challenge, it seems impossible until you form a good plan on how to tackle the assault on the base. Like many other games of the era, how much you get out of this game depends on how much you’re willing to put into working out how to play it effectively.

Overall 8/10

A fine example of how to compress the tension and drama of an action film into 64K.

#review #halloween #AFG #antiquesforgeeks #retrogaming #c64

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