#Subway Boss Rust

[pinkiexneomorph277]

@3quinox-c0nflux

Ammit has caught my boy Rust!

(Rust is my version of a simple fusion of Subway Boss Ingo and Emmet)

[raynavan]

read on ao3 Summary:

the subway was undoubtedly a quickly paced place- but there comes a point where such rust becomes dangerous. and so the subway bosses think up a way to slow down the foot traffic.

The subway was always incredibly busy, seeing as it was the main port of transportation. Not everyone had a Pokémon that knew fly, and even fewer wanted to hike the route to different towns. 

This, unfortunately, did mean a high level of fast paced foot traffic. This was a bit of a safety hazard, and Emmet couldn’t count the number of times he had to call parents to the lost and found to reunite them with their children.

Ingo had found it funny he brought the kids there, as if “lost and found” was only for items. The children were lost and he found them. Emmet saw no issue with this. 

Basically, they had needed a way to slow down foot traffic, and after much researching, ingo had finally found a solution.

“It’s simple!” He had said, “we simply need something people are willing to slow down to look at!” 

“A sign?” 

“No, nothing so simple. We need something fantastical! But not so distracting that it would distract children-“

“No loud noises or bright lights,” Emmet nodded.

“Yes, but it still needs to look interesting! So I was thinking perhaps something like a mural.”

“A…mural. What would it be of?”

“That… hmm… I’m not quite sure.” 

It had been an ongoing conversation for a week straight, one of the twins coming up with an idea, and then quickly dismissing it. Nothing seemed quite right to put anywhere. 

The decision was still up in the air when Ingo was declared missing, and Emmet forgot all about the whole issue. To focus on reaching out to the police and frantically organizing his now packed schedule.

The subway boss was always a position for two. 

It had been over three months before Emmet had calmed down enough to remember that blank wall. The plans for it- or lack thereof. 

It didn’t take long to come up with what should be on it.

Maybe it was silly or stupid, to already be mourning what had only been gone for a few months but… 

It was nice, seeing his brother's face again. Even if only in tile.

[creatingnonsense]

Throwing together the ‘Double battle Subway Boss Kieran’ from pokemonblack3white3 with my ‘Single battle Subway Boss Sylas’ for some ideas (technically they also thought of Sylas doing the single battles)

-Sylas and Kieran just chatting away casually on a lunch break, both on their fourth energy drink of the day. (Back when they first started and the two were still young)

-The two teasing each other and playing pranks. The two have a playful rivalry.

-Emmet watching the two recreate his and Ingo’s pose, to varying degrees of pride and sadness.

-Kieran awkwardly being dragged into family events during the holidays because even if he doesn’t go back to Kitakami, Sylas himself won’t let Kieran continue working alone. And Drayden is also 1000% willing to bring in another member to the family.

-Emmet watching over the two and often dealing with the horrible passengers around.

Since I’m in a writing mood.. have another fic based off that last prompt.

This is more of a Kieran as a subway boss in training fic so @pokemonblack3white3 hope you don’t mind me stealing your ideas again. (Also hope I got Kieran’s character right, this was when he was recently starting off as a subway boss)

Learning to Ignore

Words: 1,329 OC: Sylas

Summary: Kieran encounters a rude customer, and gets talked through how to handle it in the future.

—————————————————————————

“You’re gonna regret not letting me on there, you punk! This station was run a thousand times better when you two little shits weren’t running it! Where are the actual subway bosses!?” The words of anger and hatred spewed from the passengers mouth after having wrongfully used their Ducklett to soak another passenger who had sat in ‘their’ seat.

Kieran was fuming. He’d been sitting and listening to the woman yell at him for nearly seven minutes now. The bright highlights in his eyes had vanished and he was minutes away from saying ‘screw it’ and sending out his Hydrapple that had some pent up fighting energy in it and hurting the Karen badly.

“Ma’am.. we have regulations specifically to protect our passengers. If you could please calm down and listen-“ His forced ‘customer service voice’ was cut off by the lady beginning to throw an absolute tantrum. The screaming and shouting drawing in the attention of other passengers previously aiming to be on their way.. but now enticed at the drama occurring.

Kieran’s ears throbbed at the ladies shouting. You would’ve assumed an Exploud was in the room with her decibel count. His hands clenched and slowly, carefully to not draw attention to it, wrapped around his Hydrapple’s pokéball.

She was gonna get it.

Before he could click the button however, the sound of someone clearing their throat broke the tension. Silencing the woman and commanding all attention to them as a white glove gripped onto Kieran’s jacket. When his wide yellow eyes glanced up, he was met with gray ones accompanied by a small smile. Subway Boss Emmet.. or atleast ex-Subway boss, now that he was busy training him and his own son.

The lady shut up as Emmet stepped forward, his appearance different without the typical white and rust striped Conductor’s jacket and hat he was typically depicted in. His smile was a bit wider and his eyes expressed both tiredness and an anger formed from a place of experience with these kinds of people.

“I am Emmet.” He spoke up, the room silent as Kieran watched him look down at the lady, his hands tucked behind his back. “That is Kieran. He is the Subway boss now. I would advise you to apologize, as I am not amused, nor tied down on the tracks of being a Subway boss any longer.”

His voice was blank, but it was a clear threat. The ominous customer service smile only serving to make the woman stammer in both embarrassment and anxiety. “I’m.. I’m sorry..” “To him.” “I am sorry, Kieran.”

Emmet gave a huff, his tone still lacking any amusement as he leaned down over the lady. Kieran watched in surprise that he was so patient.

“Now, you will never show your face in this subway again. If I hear that you give either of my boys a hard time, I will set my tracks to only stop at you. Got it?” His voice left no argument, leaving the lady to quickly nod and turn on her heels to vanish from sight.

Emmet gave a glance at the crowd, who all quickly seemed to now have something to do besides stare, and returned to Kieran’s side. Kieran looked at him standing beside him, his stature straight and no hint of violence in his demeanor.. only a subtle expression of care as he glanced at Kieran.

The two stood side by side, Kieran facing forward, and Emmet back. The paths the two were set to take in their lives now. Emmet began to speak once again, seeing the highlights had returned in Kieran’s gaze.

“I am Emmet. Do not be afraid to call me when those type of passengers arrive. They will only run you off your tracks. Understood?” He spoke, the smile on his face seeming both genuine and coming from a place of teaching a lesson.

“Understood.. thank you.” Kieran grumbled, still a bit embarrassed from the entirety of the situation. He was snapped out of it as Emmet spoke again. “Verrry good. Now your next stop is at 3:40. Do not miss it, this will be your first battle alone.”

With that, the old subway boss walked off towards the stairs to Nimbasa city, likely leaving to visit Elesa as he had told Kieran and Sylas earlier. Kieran didn’t get much time to think about it before the ticking of the clock caught his eye, signaling his upcoming departure.

—————————————————————————

Later that day, when the sun had set and Sylas and Kieran were doing their rounds, Kieran had spilled the story. He expected to be mocked for not standing up for himself, getting too aggressive, almost starting a fight.. but the white haired boy just chuckled and made Kieran stop. The Chandelure that had been following the two, reminiscing its past moments, stopped alongside.

“Kieran, it’s customer service. People are absolute dicks.” He hummed, as if the situation meant little or nothing to him. The way he spoke reminded the shorter of Drayton, who he hadn’t spoken to in months now..

“You’re gonna get people who are terrible. Who wish to ruin your day and try to prove to both you and themselves that they are the center of the universe. You can’t let them get to you.” Sylas’ words came with clarity. With resolution Kieran hadn’t expected from someone like him. “You know how many people I’ve had come to me.. telling me that my art was unprofessional or I was running the subway wrong and dishonoring my father?”

The yellow eyed boy paused and took a guess. “Like fifty?” The suggestion alone made Sylas snort, which contorted into a hard laugh that made the corners of Kieran’s lips turn upwards to a subtle degree. “Oh Kieran.. it’s been thousands. Even before I started working in place of my dad I faced so many people who put me down or even called me a gangster.”

The way he spoke about his art, something he loved to the ends of the earth, getting mocked or disrespected made Kieran’s blood boil. He’d been through it before, facing people telling him that his obsessions over Kitakami folktales and Ogerpon were stupid or wrong.

“It’s not dishonoring anything. The subway looks nice cause of you. And he is proud of you.” Kieran quickly spat out, his anger over the words of strangers getting to him once again. Sylas gave a softer smile, lowering the lantern in his hand and glancing at him. The way the boy’s eyes lost their focus all because of something that happened to himself made Sylas feel a pang of warmth from being cared about.

“Thank you Kieran.. but listen to the point.” Sylas reminded him, dragging Kieran back onto the rails of the conversation as they began to walk again. “Have any of those words made me quit?”

Kieran was quick to shake his head no. “No you've.. just made more.” He grumbled, his hands anxiously fidgeting with the strand of hair peeking out from under his hat and looked up at the taller boy. “What’s your point with all of this? All this rambling over some stupid Karen.”

The subway boss let out a subtle sigh, but quickly got to the point. “My point is, Kieran, you can’t let some strangers affect how you live. You can’t let someone who is trying to put you down actually put you down. Those kinds of passengers are worthless when it comes to determining your self worth. No reason to lose the job over them.”

The two boys walked in silence along the tracks as Sylas’ words hung in the air before he spoke once more.

“You and me.. we’re gonna run this subway whether the public like it or not. I’m not losing you this soon cause of some damned Karen. Got it?” He spoke firmly, his uniquely notched eyebrows furrowing in resolve. Kieran couldn’t help but let his shoulders fall and smile softly.

“Got it.”

[axl-ion]

So since stuff (hopefully) calmed down around the BW leaks, I wanna share a little headcannon thing with like... Stuff connected to the Beta designs for the Subway Bosses.

So we've all seen the PNGs so I ain't going to try to dig them all out (also my yaps had so far been very unillustrated), but for recap, one of their beta designs has either a red tie or a red shirt, meanwhile another has Ingo still in red and Emmet in blue, some have them with golden lines on their coats instead of the silver and one has Emmet with golden and Ingo with beige stripes.

So here come my (hopefully) very interesting headcannons (again, head-cannons) connected to these.

So Emmet is very much a sweater person, he likes the feel of wool on top of his shirt, he likes turtle necks even if they feel bity or itchy. After Ingo disappeared he started to wear them more, even getting himself a red sweater since that's Ingo's favourite colour.

Meanwhile Ingo's coat as it gets older and exposed to harsh Hisuian weather, the silver lines eventually get duller and more discoloured, turning this beige colour as well as sun drains the black parts of the well... Black and turns them more bluish (like already present on his design in PLA). But also his coat gets few more discolourations from well... The buttons rusting.

Remember kids - metals, can stain stuff. That's why you don't wear silver piercings long term. They will dye your skin on that part fo the body.

That's it for this, if there's ever more, I will hit the reblog button.

[casualsnickers]

Month of Emmet Quick Write #4

Prompt #4: Sound

Presentation, presentation, presentation. Sometimes, you just need to take a minute and unwind. Emmet has been neglecting to do so. His body lets him know in a not-so-nice gesture.

Read the whole thing below the cut.

Emmet always preferred taking the purely underground subway routes. Some may have called it an odd choice to prefer spending half a day’s shift purely underground watching the beams of the train scatter along the rails in the darkness of the tunnels. Emmet found it peaceful. Soothing, almost.

               Walking along the commuter cars was loud. Too loud. Too many boisterous conversations. Too many limbs sticking haphazardly out of the seats. Too little space to fit through. The air would sometimes reek of sweat. The concentrated light would burn into his eyes and give him throbbing headaches. The announcements of the PA system- ones switching between his and Ingo’s voice- would sound too loud in his ears, often breaking his concentration. Too many inputs. Too much of a charge. So much energy and nowhere for it to go.

               And Emmet found that remaining in the driver’s compartment negated all of that. It was always just him after all. Another depot agent- usually Cloud or Ramses- one of the quiet, no-nonsense agents- would take up checking tickets or keeping a watchful eye on the passengers, only radioing in if Emmet was absolutely needed. It let Emmet just focus on making sure that everything was running smoothly. And it also served as a nice getaway from his passengers.

               While Emmet prided himself on escorting his passengers to-and-from their destinations safely, the sheer stress of being a train conductor alongside managing his depot agents and acting as a Subway Boss sometimes wore down on him like rust on old tracks. He had days off. He had vacation time. But the Battle Subway was his hobby. He enjoyed being there. He would lament time away from the subway and would spend his days away from the station doing research on how to best throttle potential challengers. And that brought him into the head cab after recognizing the oncome of a migraine.

               He sat down heavily in his chair, using one ungloved hand to wipe the bead of sweat from his brow as he took off his hat, set it in his lap, loosened his jacket, and focused on the rails. He took a drink of water from his bottle beneath the seat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Beside him, Cloud whistled, a snarky grin appearing on his face. “Commuters getting’ to you that fast, eh boss?”

               Emmet glared, too overstimulated to form coherent words.

“Ah. Yep. You were out there for too long, huh.” Cloud then set the train’s controls to automatic, allowing Emmet ample time to slide into the control seat and switch out of the auto driving mode. “Fine. You can take over. I’ll go and check tickets once we reach Flocessy. Not due to be a lot of folks getting’ on, that’s for sure.” Cloud then grabbed his own dark green jacket off of the seat and slid open the door. “Good luck.”

               Emmet grumbled in return. The moment the door slid closed, Emmet set the system back into automatic driving mode. Flocessy Station wasn’t due to prepare for for another five minutes. Instead, Emmet leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes, reaching absently for his own personal gear stored away in the holding compartment behind the co-conductor chair. This headache is not helping. He prayed that it wouldn’t turn into a migraine. That the aura he had been having had been wrong. He had gotten a lot of migraines after Ingo’s initial disappearance- almost two per week-  and while things were getting better, having to manage all seven lines did not cut down on his stress level; neither did constantly having to deal with the press after the weeks of reintroducing Ingo back to the subway.

               He could feel the telltale symptoms. The vision in his left eye flickered, slowly likening to static, fuzzy and indiscernible and hard to concentrate on. His eyes stung, flinching every time one of the lights on his dash would flicker. His mouth felt dry. His throat began to tighten and no matter how much he let his eyes rest, the steady woozy feeling of a building migraine began to set in. Prematurely, Emmet picked up his end of the radio.

“Come in Gear Station Central. This is Boss Emmet. Radio check. Over.”

               The PA took a second to chime back in, the distorted feedback noises causing Emmet to wince and recoil away from the small microphone. “Boss Emmet, this is Gear Station Central. Read you loud and clear. Go Ahead. Over.”

“Gear Station Central, this is Boss Emmet.” His words felt heavy on his tongue, slow and dumb and bumbling. Ingo always has better diction, even when sick, Emmet simmered inwardly. “Switch-out is needed at Aspertia Station. Repeat. Switch-out is needed at Aspertia Station. Over.”

               The line was silent for a long moment. So long that Emmet was afraid he had lost Gear Station’s signal. “…Boss Emmet, this is Gear Station Central. Copy. Wilco. Will track and report a slight delay to the schedule. Please relay to Aspertia Station. Acknowledge. Over.”

“Gear Station Central, this is Boss Emmet. Copy. Wilco. Over and out.” He then switched over to Aspertia Station’s radio controllers and repeated the information, being informed that a depot agent would take his position on the way back to Nimbasa. After quickly finishing up his relays, Emmet had just enough time to take some headache medication before switching off the ATO and pulling gently into Aspertia Station.

               After a minute or two of sitting with his head buried in his hands, the door to the controller’s cabin was slid open. “Needed a switch-out?” came a stern feminine voice. “I’m here to replace you. Go on and collect your stuff. I’ll take over.”

               Emmet recognized the woman as one of his former depot agents that had switched stations due to family issues. He wordlessly nodded, grabbed his things, and fixed himself. There were still passengers in the cabins. He couldn’t appear out of sorts. Not after so vehemently watching his posture and appearance the entire time his brother had gone missing. Not after making it perfectly clear to the public that the regular trains would remain running smoothly. Not after he had promised Ingo that the extra work wasn’t taking its toll on him.

Emmet didn’t have to go far, nor did he have to disembark from the train. He simply walked into a first-class cabin- into a booth in the quiet section- set down his things, drank some water, and tried his best to ease his headache as the train began to reverse back toward Nimbasa.

               His migraine had finally reared its ugly head somewhere between Virbank and Driftveil, his Joltik- Sparky- trying its best to cheer up Emmet as it rested on the knot of his tie. The lack of peripheral vision in Emmet’s left eye had fizzled out and his entire head felt as though it were being sat on by his Boldore. Nausea roiled in his gut and though Emmet wanted to vomit, his limbs felt as heavy as though they had been casted in concrete. He flinched as the train finally rolled into Nimbasa- he could tell by the number of stops- and he shakily got to his feet, his migraine only worsening at the sheer volume that filled into the cabin the moment the doors slid open. Commuters. And their pokémon. All of them loud. Too loud. Too noisy.

               Emmet was slow to grab his things. His mind was still stuck on controlling his breathing when a sturdy hand set itself on his shoulder. A pair of gloved hands swatted his hands away from the handle of his traveling bag, instead picking up his items for him.

“…sick?” came a loud and concerned voice. “Aspertia… radioed in some time… your status.” The firm hand on his shoulder moved to hug him from the side as the passenger- as Ingo- carefully guided Emmet off of the train and across the station into their shared office. “Here… you’ll be alright…Watch your step, Emmet.”

Ingo’s voice was loud- just as Emmet remembered it being- the one missing piece that Emmet could focus on clearly. Emmet had missed it.

[yourfanficocmightdisagree]

Brought to you live from my job because it’s really slow today:

Rusted Steel - Timeline (for the first like couple chapters)

5 years before present day

Ages: Chili, Cilan, & Cress, 21; Anya, 20; Clove, Cinna, & Carolina, 10; Joey, 9.5; Emi, 11

It’s a normal day at the Striaton Gym; Chili runs out to get some Oran Berries from the nearby market in the city since they’re running low. Assuming it’ll be a short trip, he doesn’t take his phone, Poké Balls, or anything else.

Chili’s out for longer than expected, and Cress and Cilan start to worry.

The worry increases when there’s a news alert about a hole in the middle of the street the market is on—and Chili’s not answering his phone.

Cilan’s freaking out, Cress tries to reassure him that everything’s fine, and they decide to try to find Chili, leaving the other staff in charge of the restaurant and instructing them to tell Gym challengers they’re busy.

Cilan and Cress get to the market, seeing no signs of Chili. A call to his girlfriend (Anya) doesn’t get them anywhere, and they decide to go the legal/police route to see if they can find out what happened to Chili.

Naturally, the police find nothing. Cress is frustrated and angry and Cilan’s deeply upset. They both want answers, but considering Chili essentially disappeared off the face of the planet, no one’s really sure where to start (though it is noted this is similar to Ingo’s disappearance a while back

Cinna (home from Blueberry Academy for the weekend), Clove, and Carolina, through overhearing conversations the adults are trying to keep them out of, manage to piece together the situation. Cinna wants answers and wants them now, and she resolves to find them.

The between period (1-4 years after Chili’s disappearance)

Cinna looks for answers in every possible way she can think of. The Nacrene Library doesn’t have anything she’s looking for, much to her frustration, and neither does looking at reports of a similar disappearance, Subway Boss Ingo.

Cinna’s classmate at BB Academy and sort-of-girlfriend, Emi, catches onto Cinna’s search for answers. She joins Cinna in looking for answers, though they don’t find anything.

Back in Striaton City, Cress and Cilan are doing the best they can to adjust to the situation. About a year in, they make the decision to close the Gym. It’s too painful of a reminder of what they’ve lost. Instead, they make it a full-time restaurant, which Cilan mainly takes charge of on top of his Connoisseur studies. Cress starts teaching battle studies at BB Academy to fill his time.

Cinna and Emi continue their search, deciding that the problem causing the disappearances must lie somewhere in Unova. They discover there might be other options outside it when they come across information on “Warden Ingo” in a book on Hisuian/Sinnohnian history. They make the decision to go to Sinnoh for answers.

Cinna informs Clove and Carolina about her and Emi’s decision. Clove decides to go with them, feeling a responsibility to make sure Cinna’s okay, while Carolina elects to stay behind in case something happens in Unova. Joey Tucker, a friend of Clove’s and Carolina’s from the Striaton City Trainers’ School who’s from Sinnoh originally, is also invited along for his knowledge of Sinnoh in general.

The kids, electing to ask for forgiveness rather than permission from their respective families, set a course for Jubilife City. Once they get there, they break the news to their families (Clove and Cinna receive a stern talking to from Cress, though he’s too relieved they’re alive to be too upset) and they start looking around any source of information they can get. They travel around Sinnoh for a month or so.

After finding out more about the Pokémon of Myth from some books in Canalave City, Cinna disappears a month into their Sinnoh journey. It’s clear she left voluntarily, though she also left her partner, a very sad Rotom, behind for some reason. Rotom tells the others they had a fight and Cinna stormed off with her things. Clove, Joey, and Emi are worried and opt to redirect their search to Cinna instead.

Present day

Ages: Chili, Cress, & Cilan, 26; Clove, Cinna, and Carolina, 15; Joey, 14.5; Emi, 16

Clove, Joey, and Emi have been looking for Cinna for around two months. Emi remains determined, concerningly so, but Joey’s losing hope. Clove isn’t sure how to feel.

They’ve elected not to tell Cress, Carolina, and Cilan about Cinna’s departure, not wanting to worry anyone further. (They’re getting suspicious, though; “she went to sleep early” only goes so far.)

The search for Cinna is bearing no fruit, though Emi apparently has a feeling that there has to be something in Eterna City.

While out in Eterna Forest, Clove comes across an unconscious stranger with bright red hair and odd mannerisms. He seems confused when Clove tells him where they are, and they go back to the Eterna City Pokémon Center together.

Emi, coming fresh off the disappointment of finding nothing on Cinna, is unhappy to see Clove and her strange new friend. Joey doesn’t seem to mind. Over some food, he says his name is Chili—a name that makes Clove’s heart drop as it finally hits her. She elects not to tell him they’re family yet so as not to make things any weirder for him.

Chili officially joins them in their journey, though it’s more for company than anything. Clove agonizes over telling him the truth, considering he doesn’t seem to remember her. Chili, meanwhile, is trying to figure out why one of his young companions looks so maddeningly familiar.

As for what happened to Chili in Hisui… that’s a surprise. I will say he’s terrified of Luxray for. Reasons. Hehehe.

Characters post will probably come at some point later, I need to get back to work

[timelord-emmet]

Rust has been annoying Ammit 2.0 for a very long time by sneaking into their station and escaping every trap set out for them so Ammit decided to go after them physically themself.

Ammit 2.0 belongs to

@3quinox-c0nflux )

Rust is my Subway Boss Twin fusion Oc

[imgvai202]

Shark Archaeologists' Discovery

In a distant future, humanoid shark archaeologists investigate the submerged ruins of New York City, long overtaken by rising oceans and climate collapse. Humanity is extinct. The sharks, intelligent and curious, swim through the drowned metropolis, documenting remnants of a forgotten species. In the foreground, a sleek shark archaeologist in a translucent exo-dive suit examines a preserved iPhone 16 Pro, carefully lifted into a suspension pod. Around them, other scientists tag and scan scattered human artifacts: a rusted coffee mug labeled “#1 Boss,” a decaying teddy bear entangled in seaweed, a subway entrance sign crusted in barnacles, a Times Square billboard frame overtaken by algae. A cracked human skeleton rests peacefully inside a flooded yellow taxicab, barely visible in the shadows. Coral and bioluminescent anemones thrive in what was once Central Park, now a marine sanctuary glowing with alien beauty. Shafts of light filter through murky water, giving the scene a reverent, documentary feel. Photorealistic. 35mm film look. Dramatic lighting. Water particles float gently, enhancing immersion.

[imgvai138]

Shark Archaeologists' Discovery

In a distant future, humanoid shark archaeologists investigate the submerged ruins of New York City, long overtaken by rising oceans and climate collapse. Humanity is extinct. The sharks, intelligent and curious, swim through the drowned metropolis, documenting remnants of a forgotten species. In the foreground, a sleek shark archaeologist in a translucent exo-dive suit examines a preserved iPhone 16 Pro, carefully lifted into a suspension pod. Around them, other scientists tag and scan scattered human artifacts: a rusted coffee mug labeled “#1 Boss,” a decaying teddy bear entangled in seaweed, a subway entrance sign crusted in barnacles, a Times Square billboard frame overtaken by algae. A cracked human skeleton rests peacefully inside a flooded yellow taxicab, barely visible in the shadows. Coral and bioluminescent anemones thrive in what was once Central Park, now a marine sanctuary glowing with alien beauty. Shafts of light filter through murky water, giving the scene a reverent, documentary feel. Photorealistic. 35mm film look. Dramatic lighting. Water particles float gently, enhancing immersion.

[imgvai111]

Shark Archaeologists' Discovery

In a distant future, humanoid shark archaeologists investigate the submerged ruins of New York City, long overtaken by rising oceans and climate collapse. Humanity is extinct. The sharks, intelligent and curious, swim through the drowned metropolis, documenting remnants of a forgotten species. In the foreground, a sleek shark archaeologist in a translucent exo-dive suit examines a preserved iPhone 16 Pro, carefully lifted into a suspension pod. Around them, other scientists tag and scan scattered human artifacts: a rusted coffee mug labeled “#1 Boss,” a decaying teddy bear entangled in seaweed, a subway entrance sign crusted in barnacles, a Times Square billboard frame overtaken by algae. A cracked human skeleton rests peacefully inside a flooded yellow taxicab, barely visible in the shadows. Coral and bioluminescent anemones thrive in what was once Central Park, now a marine sanctuary glowing with alien beauty. Shafts of light filter through murky water, giving the scene a reverent, documentary feel. Photorealistic. 35mm film look. Dramatic lighting. Water particles float gently, enhancing immersion.

[pinkiexneomorph277]

Just wanted to draw a Standard Ingo and Emmet fusion with no fancy extra limbs or eyes .

Rust: A bit out there and full gentlemen , Rust is dedicated to his job and absolutely loves trains to the point he bought train plushies when he realised he had money from his hosts Ingo and Emmet after the first time they fused . Rust is a bit cheeky and very strategic in battle , master multitasker and spoils his pokemon rotten.

[harveybwabbit92]

Subway Bosses scenarios: A [F] S/o with an elderly Pokémon that passes away.

I've been too fluffy, this book needs for tear jerking angst!

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

[Note same readers from the Subway maidens.]  Your boyfriend is curious why you never use you sixth Pokémon? Tw: for animal illness and death.

================================================

Ingo: (Garchomp): Y/n was having a training match with Ingo, ever since she and the Grind station's waitress filled in for the twins on the double battle, there has been a lot of interest having the two as official bosses on the trains, Ingo and Emmet were taking the suggestions seriously and had been talking to the girls in taking a mid-boss position on the battle trains every time someone hits the tenth battle mark, they have battle Y/n or {Barista} and on certain days they switch places with the Twins...

Anyway anyhow the training battle ended in a tie, with Y/n's Indeedee and Ingo's Chandelure knocking each other out. "I guess that's that, wanna stop by the Grin-" Ingo frowned as he noticed you had an very odd looking Pokéball strapped to your belt, it was OD green with a bit rust patching it, and what appeared to be a comb lock mechanism needed to open it. "Hold on, we're not done you haven't used that Pokémon yet." he said giving Chandelure a revive.

Y/n winced like she wanted to cry. "o-oh, um... I don't." The ticket attendant stammered trying to explain why she never uses the mystery Pokémon "he's not really fit for battle anymore, He's only out for leisure these." she said rubbing the back of her neck. "I don't understand..." Y/n had Ingo follow her to Otto's park which confused him more since this park was mainly used by retirees, two old men who were playing chess nearby noticed them. "Y/n, yer' here early today..." one of them noted staring at the clock behind her, a few other people greeted her as they got to rocky area.

Ingo cocked a brow as Y/n took out the rusty Pokéball and put in the combination, there was a flash and few feet away a Garchomp appeared before them, It looked very intimidating at first, but then Ingo noticed how worn out it looked, it's eyes were sunken and few teeth were loose or missing there were also few patches of it's hide was peeling off, not from abuse or neglect, but from age, this Garchomp was an elder Pokémon. "He was was my grandpa's before he passed, I did use him for battles for a time, but then he took a bad fall during one of them and hurt his leg pretty badly." Y/n explained looking gutted Ingo noticed the old timer was walking real slow, it's right leg had a brace to help keep him stable.

"Doc's said with his age and health it was probably best if I try and make he's days more comfortable, if you get what I mean?" Ingo knew exactly what Y/n meant, Garchomp was on his last track he was running out of steam and she knew this Ingo felt a little crappy now for making her sad Garchomp seem to sense her distress and limped over to Y/n and nuzzled her before going back to laying in the sun.

A Few days later Y/n didn't show up for work, She just said she needed a "personal day." Ingo had sinking feeling in his stomach and went over to her home, to find her completely heart-broken holding a photo of her grandpa with her riding on Garchomp when she was little, "He was just taking a nap..." She choked without a word Ingo hugged her and just let Y/n cry …

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

Emmet: [Meganium]: Y/n was blindsided when Emmet approached her for a training battle, he explained already explained what her new position as a mid-boss entitled her to, but never said anything about training! The barista was pretty confident in her abilities but, Emmet saw otherwise, Y/n was strong yeah, but she was also pretty rusty, it was obvious to him when he re-watched her battle footage, that she hasn't Pokémon battled in a while...

The battle ended in a tie with Aurorus and Electross knocking each other out, A immediately Y/n tried to walk away saying something about checking on her Coworkers, when Emmet spoke up. "It's verrry rude to walk away, when you still have one Pokémon left." Giving Electross a max revive, yeah... Y/n was hoping he hadn't noticed her grandmother's Pokéball hanging off her belt. "Um, y-yeah... I supposed it is under normal circumstances, She can't battle anymore..." Y/n said fidgeting her shirt sleeves, Emmet tilled his head obviously confused "Can't battle?" he said as if she just tried to explain Schrodinger's Glameow to him.

Y/n winced and told him to come with her, she took him the botanical gardens in Otto's park Emmet watched Y/n put in the combination for the balls release mechanism on the old ball in flash a Meganium was standing before them, Emmet took a step forward but Y/n stopped. "Let her get her bearings, she's probably confused." Y/n said as Meganium looked around the garden, before noticed them staring, It was then Emmet noticed something off about Meganium aside from her being old, he could see her flower was withering a bit and with it he could see the tell tale signs of Bayh's rot, it showed up as black veins and scab like protrusions erupting from her petals.

(quick explanation Bayh's Rot is a rare illness I made up that appears in Grass Pokémon, it's more frequent in elderly Pokémon, It's kinda like flesh eating disease, if notice early it can treated, but it's hard to notice because it's symptoms look similar to a harmless easily treatable fungal infection, called Roth's disease.)

Emmet stomach sank into him feet "She's dying." It wasn't question Y/n nodded sadly. "The doctor My grandma took her too misdiagnosed it as Roth's..., I'm just glad my gran isn't here to see her like this, she'd be devastated." Y/n muttered her eyes stung from unshed tears, Just then Meganium walked over to her with long willow twigs in her mouth, she started nudging Y/n who was shaking her head. "No sweetie I can't, I'm not grandma!" Emmet's brow furrowed in confusion.

"What's she doing?" Y/n took the twigs from Meganium. "She has these episodes where she think I'm grandma and tries to makes wreaths." Emmet frown and took out his Roto-phone, he asks what kind of wreaths did her grandmother make? He showed the y/ht woman some pictures and Y/n pointed at the one that was closest to the ones her grandma made, Emmet clicked and it opened a DIY page, it took a moment for Y/n to realize what Emmet was doing and without a word the two of the sat down and made a or at least a attempted to anyways, the final result was pretty shoddy, but Meganium seemed please with it...

Two days later Emmet was alarmed to find Y/n not at the Grind station, he greeted her coworker who had this somber look on his face, It didn't take long for Emmet to figure out what had happened, went over to her home she wouldn't answer the door, until one of Y/n's neighbors said she was sitting in the backyard, Emmet went around back and found Y/n curled under a tree that Meganium would sleep under, as the wreath they had made was hanging over Y/n's head without a word Emmet walked over to her, he sat down and just held her while she cried...

[steviebunny]

Your legs shook with every step, silently praying in your own mind that it wasn't noticeable you pushed forward. Your co-workers just watched you be put through the wringer and barely manage to defend yourself for a mistake that hadn't even been yours.

The man responsible for the error was currently being chewed out by none other than 'holier than thou" Steven Rogers. You're absolutely sure the shock soaring through your body was evident as you press your back as far against the wall as you can, silently wishing you could phase through the drywall.

"If I ever catch you, or one of your staff shifting blame to one of Starks analysts again, I'll have Shield wipe your identity off the face of this planet and station you in Siberia. You hear me, son?"

Captain America wasn't screaming but he was definitely loud enough that all of your co-workers could hear, their eyes away from the avenger and to stare at you.

It was too much you couldn't handle it, speed walking to the bathroom you'd locked the door behind you. Pacing back and forth trying to calm yourself down. You're fine, fine, perfectly fine, you did nothing wrong- get over it. Taking another deep breath you stop before the mirror, tears spilling from your eyes- you force yourself to make eye contact with your reflection. Get it together. You tell yourself out loud, glaring at your double.

Moving you rip off some shreds of paper towel, bundling it up and running it under the cold sink water. Squeeze, and press. You bring the damp cloth up to your under eyes, looking up and patting the swelling down as best you can. Another set of breaths later, getting yourself somewhat together you unlock and swing the door open-

-you're met with Captain Rogers’s concerned face, a hand raised in the air ready to knock. Your breath is caught in your throat, you can see as the man's sharp jaw clenches.

"I'd like to apologize for the commotion I've caused earlier today."

"It wasn't your fault"

"It wasn't your either' he retorts. 'I just wanted to make sure you knew that."

"I know, Sir." His brows furrow at the comment.

"Please it's Steve, I'd like to walk you to your vehicle later tonight if that’s okay with you?"

"Are you sure?" An avenger walking you to your car, isn't that a little... beneath him?

"Yes please, it's the least I could do after making a martyr out of you."

"Okay, yes Si- Steve."

At the day's end, Steve leaned you his arm, escorting you to the garage, the two of you shared a few chuckles as he described stories of life with the avengers.

"So, this is me. Thank you so much, Captain Rogers, I can't emphasize how much you didn't have to do this."

"It was my pleasure."

He had still yet to let go of you his eyes running over your worn down and rusted hatchback. It was safe... Just old... And maybe a little shakey on left turns.

"Captain."

"Sorry, peach. Can I pry, do you really drive this home every night?"

"Well not really, I normally take the subway but if I come need to come in a bit earlier I take the car."

"You come in early and still stay this late, it's dark out?" He addresses poignantly.

"Yeah, it's not ideal but my apartment complex has a good security network."

You try to offer him a smile, to assure him of your safety, when he manages to look back at you, those blue eyes swim with concern.

"The tower is safe, I know damn well Tony has an extra room you could stay in. Would you consider it?"

"Mr. Rogers I-"

"Steve."

"Steve, sorry. Mr. Stark is my boss, I'm not sure that's the best idea."

"Please he owes me more than enough favors, I know Nat and you have lunches together sometimes if you're not comfortable alone I'm sure she'd let you stay with her, besides Wanda's been whining about meeting you for weeks."

It's probably not the best idea, a whole manner of things could go wrong, but that look on Steve's face... Saying no to him would feel like kicking a puppy dog.

"If...you're sure. Then yes, I've skipped out on plans with Natasha a bit more than I'd like to recently, so maybe this will be good for us."

His smile brightens the deeply lit walls of the sub-garage, he extends his elbow out to you to yet again grasp onto. Once your fingertips are safely secured in the crook of his arm the both of you begin to walk back to the steel elevator doors.

"So. Does Hawkeye really live in the vents?"

Steve laughs through his nose turning his head away trying to conceal his reaction, "No, well- he doesn't live on the vents. He just spends a lot of time there."

"Персик Jarvis told us Steve was bringing you up what's wrong?".

"Jarvis?"

"Tony's personal a.i- I'll aquatint you to it later. What happened?"

You look back to Steve who was no longer there, quickly having left the scene to find Stark. Nat's hands rubbed up and down your shoulder comfortingly as you brought your attention back to her.

"Captain Rogers had concerns about me making it home safely, he asked me to stay in the Tower for the night"

Her brows drew together in thought as she processed the information "Well alright then. Let's get you situated, would you rather stay with me or one of the guest rooms?"

"If I can stay with you, I'd like that," you tell her as she escorts you through the foyer, in the brighter light of the common room floor you stood stunned (other than the incessant picking and fidgeting at your own fingers.) The room was compromised of superheroes living normally and comfortably with each other.

Tony and Steve stood off to the side discussing the parameters of your stay, A long blonde-haired god had also been sitting in the kitchen, partially listening in on the conversation and partially paying attention to the Scarlett Witch.

The woman in question seemed to have a third sense as Nat lead you into the room, hopping up from her barstool seat rushing over to the two of you.

"It's so nice to meet you! We've all heard so much of you."

"Really?" You question looking back at your friend.

"Partially from Tony, Pepper, and I- partially Clint spying on us."

"He was spying on us? He likes good coffee and sits at the back of the restaurant we go to for lunch."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

"It was more of a precautionary detail, I didn’t want to alarm you without cause."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Scarlett." You say to the brunette woman with a nod. She looks at you for a second before small giggles escape her mouth. "Please that's just the name I'm given in the press. My real name is 'Wanda."

"My apologies!"

"No worries, you ver very respectful about it."

The three of you fell into an easy groove, as well as a silly debate sparked by Wanda, claiming she'd steal you from your closest friend.

Your eyes kept drifting to the back of the room, Tony's agreeable nodding to Steve's hand movements. Panning across the room, your eyes connected with the giant of a man, god? Who had been looking in your direction, your eyes met and widened you quickly averted your gaze back to the floor by Natasha's feet. Taking a second to reel from the contact.

"So precious peach has finally decided the grace the upper floors with her presence." Your boss’s voice rang in your ears as he addressed you.

"Sorry for the drop in Mr. Stark, Captain Rogers insisted."

"Well no harm done, Pepper's been trying to get you up here for years. Guess all it took was a 6ft something action figure." He cocked his brow motioning to Steve, drink still in hand as he does so.

Startled at the accusation you jump to defend yourself-

"No! T-that’s not- I didn't." The words stumbled out of your mouth and Natasha puts a hand on your shoulder.

"Персик he's teasing. C'mon, I have some clothes of yours you sent over for Wanda when she first moved in."

The two girls lead you away from the male-dominated space, you peer back to Rogers and he offers you a tight-lipped smile as your ushered away.

"Thank you by ze way, Pierto I'm sure will thank you for the men's clothing if you run into him."

"It was no bother- I owned more than enough and when Natty mentioned you two were moving in without anything I figured you could use some stuff before Tony and Pepper get you settled."

"Natty?"

"Don't you dare."

"Oh, no, no, you are never living this down, Natalia!"

The girls did a great job helping you feel safe in the tower, to the point all three of you essentially dog piled in Natasha’s bed for the night, she's probably the closest friend you've made since working for Stark, treating you more like a sister than anything.

Hours later your eyes seem to flutter open on their own, it's still dark outside as the sleep shakes from you.

As carefully as you possibly can you untangle yourself from your place on Nat's chest, stealing a pair of her slippers you migrate to the common room. It seems no one's there this time of night, the self-sustaining tower is still lit up much like all the other buildings littering the night’s sky.

Quietly you settle yourself down on one of the luxurious couches, pressing deep into the cushions. You lay your head back, neck-craning. You can't be sure just how long you say this way but a deep jovial voice rouses you from the position.

"Was it not a plentiful night for you either?"

Your head snaps the Norse god standing in the doorway,

"I don't know if plentiful, is the way to describe it...but I couldn't sleep very well, no."

He offers you this look, it's almost reminiscent of a puppy dog smile. It's almost strange to see him so... Relaxed? He's this huge avenger- a god, but here he stands before you in gray sweatpants and a... Captain America hoodie?

The laugh bubbles up in your throat, maybe it's your sleep-deprived mind getting to you, Thor watches all this happen as he hesitantly makes his way to the couch as well.

"I'm- so sorry!" The loud whisper burns from your throat, "I just didn't expect to see the shield on you."

He looks again questioningly, now down at his own attire, like he hadn't even noticed when he dressed. His smile grows wider in acknowledgment.

"Ha! Yes, Rogers and I once had a bit of a mix-up! We never really switched back, he still has mine as far as I know."

"Well, you two are the longest-haired blondes I'm sure the fans mistake you both for each other a lot."

He let out another rumbling laugh, moving closer for you to lean against his broad shoulder.

"I think, that is an improbable scenario."

"Why?"

"Well, we all have those that... Prefer some of us over the others. Roger's can be quite a bit aggressive."

"I can't imagine him not discouraging that."

"No, he does, he's quite good about it, but that doesn't stop them nonetheless."

A yawn manages to escape you, feeling weightless as Thor lets you snuggle into him.

"Well, what about you?"

"Hmm, what about me?"

"Are you fans as aggressive?"

"No, not at all. I fear... I fear I'm not always enough for them, it's been said by quite a few I should have done better to keep Loki off of Midgard."

"Oh Thor that's not your fault, you can't control anyone's actions but your own."

"I'm sure this is true, but at times it is difficult to believe. There are those who argue I should have known better and realized my brother was not entirely himself, and the others who say I should have stopped him from ever escaping."

"Well, both of those are stupid if you ask me. You've done great things on your own, and you shouldn't let others tell you differently."

"Thank you, it seems foolish but it's nice to be heard out at times."

"It's not foolish, everyone likes to be validated." It's the last thing you manage to say to the god, his arm pillowing you as you fall deeper into sleep, eyes fluttering shut. The blonde’s breathing is the last thing you hear.

Love and Lover's masterpost.

Next chapter

Full masterlist

[ratsoh-writes]

@scienceisfood has spoken lol

More oddly specific things that could kill the skelebros!!

Sans: being mistaken as the Michelin tire man

Papyrus: being gifted a tooth necklace only to find out the teeth are real

Star: a small room where all the walls are white plaster and the only thing left for entertainment is a single crayon that is also white

Honey: no matter how hard he cleans, his oven has this weird meaty smell that just won’t go away like something crawled and died in there.

Red: being trapped in a room full of extroverted happy soccer moms

Edge: getting coughed on multiple times in public but his hands are full so he can’t smack a b*tch

Mal: putting on face paint only to find its permanent. He has become the clown he’s always feared

Cash: biting into a pepper and not being able to taste the burn. In fact, nothing is hot anymore, there’s no spice in his life, everything tastes like sugar, god is dead

Oak: a roomba that has flashing lights, smells like windex and has a butter knife taped to the end at ankle height

Willow: one day, chaos acts like a normal chihuahua and never goes back.

Charm: watching cats 2019 while eating some edibles

Sugar: when that little sh*t with the Cheeto dust fingers sprints into the wedding dress closet

Lord: those packed subway trains in Tokyo. And the creepy old guys have mistakes lord for a schoolgirl

Mutt: having his fan base find the 50k word hunger games smut fanfic he wrote as a joke

Wine: kfc deciding to change their gravy recipie to make it more “low fat”.

Coffee: every single goddamn McDonald’s ice cream machine in ebott being down

Pop: a 12 pack of Red Bull and a bag of pixie sticks

Rhythm: parents demanding a twerk class for their kids

Pluto: finding out that the earth really is flat

Jupiter: waking up one day, looking in the mirror, and seeing that his beautiful muscly arms have become twigs

G: getting every single red light on an hour long bike ride. Every. single. light.

Green: scooping up one of those spiders with a piece of paper and having it explode into hundreds of tiny spiders

Peaches: always breaking the yolk of an egg when he crack it open. Never being able to make a proper omelette again

Rancher: finding out someone made an onlyfans for his farm animals

Snipe: being sent an untraceable package. Inside the large box is a series of smaller boxes until finally he opens the smallest box and inside is a single Kit Kat. There’s a bite taken out. No dna signature was left behind

Bruiser: having to jump an electrified fence while running from the cops. And on the other side of the fence is a pack of small angry dogs

Butch: being told he looks just like his father

Boss: getting a brand new suit and getting splashed by a car the second he steps out the door

Ace: a whole year where nothing illegal happens, no death, no murders, no mysteries. Just boring uneventful peace

Slim: wario x waliuigi brony style fanart

Rust: being about to fix the blockage in the sink when he sees one of the kids reach for the drainage disposal switch

Noir: going out of town to come back and find that a leak in the roof has spilled into his entire bookcase

Lilac: all of his prosthetic legs mysteriously being two inches shorter

Basil: one nice big neighborhood holiday barbecue would do the trick. The ones with the burgers, hot dogs and bacon sizzling on the grill filling the neighborhood with that delicious scent of freedom

[nihilismbot]

My friend started, though will never finish, Silent Hill 4. So, I was inspired to write out my "How to Improve Silent Hill 4" thoughts

Give more significance to Henry. He can still be just Some Guy to the world at large, but all of Walter's other victims had some amount of history with him (not that you would know that without extra lore) so Henry should too. Have him be a shut-in of some flavor. Henry is always in his apartment, Walter interprets this as Henry also hearing Mother and clearly they can understand each other, that's why Henry has to be the Receiver of Wisdom.

Speaking of, Walter shouldn't think room 302 is *literally* his mother. That's stupid. Let him think the spirit of his mother lives there. Have his mother die in childbirth in the room. Cliche? Yes, but more sensible than "this apartment is your actual birth mother" which is dumb as hell.

Also, get rid of any mention of Walter's father. Why was that even there? Throw it out.

Anyway, back to Walter and Henry.

Walter should leave cryptic notes about the victims that Henry meets. It gives more depth to why Walter picked those individuals. Have Walter interact positively with Henry more often and not just once on a stairwell.

There are already multiple Walters, make use of that. Have child or adult Walter (child!Walter if you want more of a helpless victim narrative or adult!Walter for more gay subtext. So, obviously it should be adult!Walter) have positive conversations with Henry. Have Walter's Body be the one that stalks and attacks Henry.

Also, remember back in Silent Hill 2 where Walter was first mentioned? How in his article he talks about it wasn't him who killed the children? Yeah, bring that back. Make it more explicit. Walter's Body is the one that killed people. It's the Walter that's possessed by Valtiel. Child!Walter is the innocent Walter and Adult!Walter is between. Adult!Walter knows the murders were done and will keep happening, he's trying to steer Valtiel (or he can have even more control) but he didn't start the killing willingly.

||Room 302 should look and feel more safe. Make the player want to be there at first. Let it distort more in the second half of the game and leave it ambiguous about if Walter is causing the room to decay or if the apartment always looked like that and the cozy appearance was just how Henry perceived it.

Silent Hill has a history of revisiting areas. Most dungeons in the first three games have three versions, they could have just kept that for Four if they wanted you to revisit worlds. I already saw distorted rust Subway World, now show me dark fleshy Subway World! Don't have the literal same dungeon twice!

Fixing Eileen... The easiest thing would be to leave her as a normal victim NPC like Cynthia. But to keep her special, have Eileen still not die after her Walter attack, but put her in the hospital and FUCK that escort shit. Her fate could be tied to how interactions with Adult or Child Walter have gone. Maybe Henry gives Walter motivation to fight against Valtiel so he's able to fight off the influence and Eileen lives. Or maybe Henry accidentally suggests that reviving your mompartment at the cost of 21 lives is a great idea, and Eileen dies.

Final Boss fight, killing Walter's physical body isn't terrible, we can keep weird corpse Kurt Cobain. But final final fight should absolutely be Valtiel. Regardless of if Walter wants to go through the ritual or not, Valtiel's influence was what started this whole mess, let me hit him.

[whump-a-la-mode]

A Rather Odd Heist AKA The Trophy Room

Hi! I don’t know what this is and I have (at the time of writing) work in four hours! I had this idea in a daydream and just had to get it down in writing.

I apologize if the formatting is weird. I usually write in the tumblr text editor but this was written in docs.

CW//Threats, talk of injury, talk of disease, poison, death threats, descriptions of pain, restraints, medical emergencies, collars, chains, dehumanization, being kept as a trophy

    The wound felt like disease.

    It was a long slash, started at the front of Hero’s chest, just below the clavicle, and extending to the middle of their shoulder blade. The pain was white hot, tearing through skin and into sensitive flesh below, but more than that, even as the wound was carved, the feeling of infection, of poison, seeping in was overwhelming. 

    They lost the balance from the pain alone, slamming into the worn tile floor of the subway platform with a crack from their cheekbone. 

    Their assailant, on the other hand, landed with far more grace, on their feet. Hibou’s claws, wicked constructions of metal that had clearly recently been to the whetting stone, curled inwards towards their palm. Not far, though. The twelve inch long weapons constricted their movement, not that they minded. The aluminum feathers attached to their rust-painted goggles twitched with amusement.

    “I really thought they’d sent someone with a little more skill in… standing.” They smirked, though it stretched their mouth far too wide, enough to make Hero uncomfortable. “Do they not teach you that at HQ?”

    Hero grumbled out a half-hearted reply that even they were unable to make out. After a moment of catching their breath, they scrambled to their feet; every movement of their shoulder sending a new wave of agony through the marred flesh. 

    They met Hibou’s gaze (or, at least, the black lenses of their goggles), holding it for a long moment. The world around them took a shuddering breath as a weak gust of wind managed to find its way into the abandoned subway tunnel. 

    Through Hero’s mind ran half a dozen half-baked plans. Diversions and threats they could carry out, attacks they could make. None would work, certainly, but it occupied their panic-addled mind until the footsteps sounded behind them.

    They dared not spin around and let Hibou out of their sight, but they were acutely aware of the two pairs of feet, one on either side, approaching to surround them.

    “This one was spying.” Hibou glanced to one of the unseen figures, the one on Hero’s right. “And you know what they thought would be a good hiding spot? You wanna know?”

    “Course we wanna know.” The voice had a snakelike quality to it, hissed out between fangs.

    “The catwalk! The broken down catwalk. You always said that if anyone ever walked up there it’d fall, and guess what! You were right.”

    A barrier of cackling penned Hero in on all sides for a moment. The slash on their shoulder didn’t seem to be bleeding, but the pinpricks of disease refused to stop.

    “So, that begs the question.” Hibou continued. “What are we going to do with them?”

    Hero felt as though a wire was tightened around their neck. In a motion that surprised even themself, they leapt onto the tracks, running along the rusty metal for a moment before attempting to struggle their way out of the other side.

    The cold, scaly hand gripped them before they had any chance to do so. With a horrifying strength, and a bold show of it, the hand threw them up, slamming them onto their back. A clawed hand pressed to their chest, foot-long blades threatening to prick into their skin. Those rusty goggles stared down at them in a way that seemed almost playful.

    It was supposed to be a simple mission, they couldn’t help but recall as they lay there, well-sharpened blades likely only a few inches of flesh away from their rapidly beating heart. 

    Despite their seniority within the Heroes’ Organization, the amount of solo missions they were assigned to was low. Extremely so. Even lower than that of some of the recruits and cadets. Most would have been bothered by the fact-- fearing that their superiors thought them to be worthless or not good enough. That fear didn’t apply to Hero, however.

    No. They knew exactly why they spent most of their days stalking around base, chatting with the medical staff or the engineers.

    After all, healing powers wouldn’t get you very far in a fight.

    Hell, they hadn’t even been supposed to go on this particular spying mission in the first place. Yet, of course, the cadet who was meant to take the simple job had broken their leg in a training accident. 

    It had sounded simple. Almost deceptively so-- as if there should have been something more to the whole thing. But, no. It was exactly as easy as it had been drawn out to be. Sneak into the villains’ temporary base, find out their numbers and exactly what kind of weaponry they possessed, and report back.

    They could have done it in an afternoon. But they just had to have taken the chance with the catwalk. They could have run, they’d had the chance, but…

    They’d been too scared. That was the other reason they were always stuck at base. They were a coward. The mission directors knew it.

    “What, hey, don’t die on me yet. That’d be boring.”

    Hibou’s voice cut through their swirling thoughts. Their eyes focused on the empty goggles looming above them.

    “And I hate when things are boring. So, answer my question.”

    “I- w- wh-”

    “Ugh. I said, what should we do with you?”

    “L- L-”

    “Come on, use your words.”

    “Let me go.” It croaked out of their parched throat like a forced tear. “Please.”

    “Oh, well, since you said please…” They rolled their eyes. “How about this. Let’s put it to a vote. This is a democracy, after all.”

    Next to Hibou’s goggled face appeared two more. One sharp and scaled around the eyes, the other with hair that hung down in wet mats. Akula and Zema. 

    “So, guys, what do you think? What should we do with them?”

    Hero felt to be a rabbit surrounded by cats.

    “Hey, boss?” Zema-- the scaled one-- spoke up. “What’s that on their shoulder?”

    “Hm?” Though their eyes could not be seen, Hero just knew that, in that moment, they lit up. “Oh, that. Now that is a good idea, Zema.”

    “Wh- What did you do to me!” Hero fought to jerk upwards, but was only met with a sharp hand forcing them back down. 

    “Oh, you know…” Hibou raised their other hand, the one not holding their captive down. The claws curled into as close to a fist as they could get. “When you came in to interrupt me and my work, I was just finishing up a special batch of… hm… what would a layman call it. A biopoison, I believe.”

    Hero choked.

    “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that, huh? That’s what you get for interrupting my work.”

    “So… they’re just gonna die?” Akula questioned.

    “Hm? Oh, I mean, without intervention, yes. Not immediately, though I could arrange that.” Ever so slightly, the claws moved towards Hero’s neck. “I guess we should probably just do that.”

    “W- Wait!” Hero gasped. “If it’s going to, uh, if it’s going to kill me anyways, then why not just let me go? It doesn’t matter either way, right?”

    Hibou smiled that horrible, wide smile.

    “You know, the little coward has a point. That’d be a lot more fun. You don’t want to die, though, do you?”

    One of those claws curled beneath Hero’s chin, forcing it upwards with the blunt end. It didn’t cut, but they knew that with any false move, it would.

    “No.” They managed to croak out.

    “So… hm. There’s something you want, and you can only get it from me. And, well, now that I think about it, there might just be something that you have that I want. Now, that sounds like a fair trade, doesn’t it?”

    “What is it? Please, anything. A- anything.”

    “That’s what I’d hoped you’d say. Hero, I think you know exactly what I want.”

    “N- No. I don’t.”

    “Of course you do.” The claw pushed their chin up even further, pressing the back of their head against the tile. “I want my kid back.”

    Hero’s eyes widened. They felt bile rise in their throat.

    “I can’t.”

    “Well, then, you’ll die. Easy as that.”

    “W- Wait-”

    “To me, it sounds like a very fair trade, Hero. We’ve had to spend so long watching our friend suffer… slowly rot away. And now, your friends will have to do the same. It’ll be easier for you, though. Your eyes will melt out of your skull far before the real gross stuff happens.”

    Hero gulped, feeling their throat press far too close to Hibou’s claws.

    “Is there any other way?”

    “Hmm… No. I don’t think so. Here’s my final offer, right now: You bring me my kid back. They’ll know where to find me. Then, I give you the antidote. Either that, or I cut your head off, here and now. I’ll even mail it back to your HQ, just as a little gift.”

    “I-”

    Hero felt their chest shudder. The sweat dripping from their forehead had long since dampened their hair. It was supposed to be a simple mission. Just some recon. Just a simple mission.

    But…

    “Okay. I accept.”

    “Good.”

    The pressure lifted almost immediately, finally allowing Hero to once again breathe. They scrambled to their feet, and were almost halfway out of the abandoned platform when they heard Hibou yell from behind:

    “The rash should start in about twelve hours! Just so you know!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

    It was the nature of a hunter to keep trophies of those that they had killed.

    Of course, not in the wild. In the wild, animals were simply content to fill their bellies. The only trophy needed of their hunting was the fact that they were still well and alive.

    Humans, however, did not have such a luxury. Survival was not a prize to be shown off. So, other methods had to be found. Trophies had to be taken. 

    Taken and displayed.

    No one questioned the scarf that Hero had wrapped tightly about their neck, despite the fact that it was the dead of summer. They had no time to question it. The other inhabitants of the Headquarters of the Heroes’ Organization had their own duties to complete, and not a second to spare in completing them.

    So, Hero found no difficulty in walking through the front doors, every step they took threatening to aggravate the already agonizing wound on their shoulder. 

    After a few steps, they found themself in the center of the entrance lobby, legs stiffened. Hibou’s words echoed in their mind, sharper than their blades, as their head tipped upwards. Their gaze raised to the trophy room.

    That was what everyone called it, anyways. It wasn’t so much of a room as much as it was a glass cylinder, sticking out from the railing of the upper floor. On first seeing it, cadets often panicked, fearing that it would fall at any moment. It appeared simply that precarious, even though it was, supposedly, practically indestructible. Even the glass itself was rated to withstand nuclear attack.

    There was a reason for that.

    The cylinder was rather large, maybe 20 feet in diameter. However, the vast majority of it was taken up by chains-- four of them, one from each side. Heavy iron things, each link likely too heavy to be lifted on its own. The four chains all converged at one point in the center.

    The trophy.

    Villain wasn’t a particular strong person. They may have been before their capture, but any strength they had had been long since drained away. They weren’t particularly tall, to begin with, but from the angle, they looked miniscule.

    The iron collar around their neck, resting heavily on their shoulders and collarbone, was the center point of the chains. Each hooked onto one side of the collar.

    Villain’s seated position pulled the chains practically completely taut, the weight of iron resting completely and totally on their neck. The pressure would have been less had they stood, but they had stopped doing that a long time ago.

    The grey cotton prisoner uniform had about as much color to it as their face.

    Hero couldn’t say they knew the story of Villain’s capture, nor what had warranted it. The trophy room had been there as long as they had been part of the organization. They supposed it was odd, just how quickly they had gotten used to it. The trophy room and the trophy it held were simply a part of HQ.

    If Villain were to disappear for a second, everyone in the building could and would notice it. 

    Hibou’s kid… Of course, they were truly related. They seemed about the same age. But the fondness with which those horrid villains spoke about their friend…

    Hero shook their head. If they kept acting like this, they’d get dragged to the infirmary with a thermometer shoved in their mouth in an instant. They began forward again, headed towards the staging room.

    They didn’t have any missions scheduled for the day, not that they knew of at least, and they were glad for that. Still, they had their unofficial duty, preparing the other heroes for their missions. 

    The staging room sat behind a pair of steel doors, requiring a retina scan to pass through, which Hero passed easily. The doors slid open as they stepped through, already feeling a dozen pairs of eyes lock to them. 

    Colloquially, the place was often referred to as the locker room, both literally and as a joke. Lockers lined the walls, while benches filled the rest, except for at the very front, where a pair of tables were well stocked with snacks, drinks, and basic medical supplies.

    After a second, most of the heroes looked down, having been satisfied that there was no threat. The only one that kept their head up was Teammate, who quickly waved Hero over. They obliged without thinking, sitting next to them on their bench. 

    “What’s up?” Hero questioned. Teammate didn’t respond for a moment, as they were pulling a sweater off over their head. When they were finished, they replied:

    “Eh, I’m good. What’s with the scarf?”

    “‘Tis called fashion.”

    “Fair enough.”

    “Where are you headed out to?”

    “Patrolling a hospital, they had a threat or something. You?”

    “I don’t do missions.” They did their best to accompany it with a smile.

    “You did yesterday, didn’t you?”

    “Yeah.”

    “How’d that go?’

    “Eh, it was fine. Spying missions are boring.”

    “There’s no lie there. Anyways, um, when I was fighting yesterday I kinda got this cut-”

    “Where?”

    “Right here, on my leg.”

    Teammate leaned down, rolling up one of their pant legs to knee height. Sure enough, across their shin, a wicked scar carved its red mark. Hero hardly thought about it as they placed a hand on the wound.

    A green glow emanated from their palm, flowing and wrapping around the injured leg. The wound’s ragged edges solidified with scar tissue, before knitting themselves together.

    It was so simple. A grievous wound, dealt with in an instant.

    Of course, that was all they could do. Healing powers weren’t magic, not really. They couldn’t bring back the dead. They could only accelerate what the body already had the ability to do. A cold? Gone in a second? A biopoison?

    Well, they couldn’t bring back the dead.

    The wound finished its knitting, and Hero withdrew their hand. Teammate offered a quick smile, speaking:

    “Thanks so much, see ya’ later!”

    Before running off. Off on a mission. Off doing something important.

    Something good.

    Hero slumped forward on the bench, feeling a horrible exhaustion overtake them. When the call for their help came, they weren’t exactly surprised. It was quick, short, simply:

    “Is Hero here? I need Hero.”

    They raised their head, expecting to see a cadet who had hit their arm or something.

    Instead, standing halfway in the doorway, face a mask of panic, stood a person in a lab coat. They clutched themself, arms around their chest, trembling visible from halfway across the room. They met Hero’s gaze.

    “Come on, come on. Quickly, please.”

    There was nothing in their voice but panic. Even urgence was drowned out by sheer fear. Hero was on their feet in an instant, on the heels of the doctor who was moving at the same speed. They ran, together, all the way to the medical wing, on the other side of the floor.

    From there, they moved along a small catwalk, leading to-

    Hero didn’t even look up to realize the destination until they were already there.

    The only access to the trophy room was a small, horribly narrow catwalk. A horde of doctors was already flooding it, but they moved out of Hero’s way without question. The first doctor stopped in front of the door to the glass cylinder, which was sealed with just about every type of lock known to man.

    “They’re unresponsive.” The explanation was quick, curt. “Do you know how to put on a hazmat suit?”

    “What?”

    “Do you know how to put on a hazmat suit?”

    “I-”

    “Here, here, I-”

    “Why do I need a hazmat suit!”

    “It’s not safe in there, you can’t go in without one.”

    Hero’s gaze darted to the interior of the cylinder. Half of the chain had gone taut, while the other two were slack, on account of the fact that Villain had slumped over, all their weight supported only by the collar around their neck. In the little visible skin that the collar revealed, horrible red marks could be gleaned.

    “They look like they’re dead.” They whispered in horror. “Why do I need a hazmat suit?”

    “Their powers, they’ll hurt you.”

    “Even when they’re unconscious?”

    “Well, no, but-”

    Hero’s hands latched onto one of the padlocks, straining against it, trying to pull the metal apart. It did nothing, of course. They didn’t have superstrength. But it simply felt like the right thing to do.

    Eventually, someone handed them a key, then another, and another after that, until every lock on the door was opened. They swung it open, leaping inside, heart in their ears. Every panicked beat sent a new shock of diseased pain through their shoulder.

    Ducking and stepping over chains, they maneuvered until they were at Villain’s side. Their first thought was to check for a pulse-- it was weak, but there.

    They gritted their teeth.

    Hero was going to save Hibou’s kid, and by god, neither of them were going to die.