#There are obvious exceptions with this & I understand (surgeons are the first thing I think of because of my fields).

[sapphiccyanide]

Hot take but I think if you already have your medical marijuana license (in the US) & you're applying for a particular job, that shouldn't automatically disqualify you sight unseen. I'm not trying to roll fat doinks in the lunch room- I just wanna be able to continue medicating without fearing a random drug test & losing a job I actually have the skill set for. It shouldn't matter to you what I do outside of work.. Give people the benefit of the doubt dammit

[kirchefuchs]

Sweetie, you may always infodump in my inbox ♡

Ceres, you are so going to regret this

I also may or may not have forgotten part of what I originally wanted to say, but uhhh... that is a detail which I generally hope I'll remember somewhere in the future hahahhsshhshshh anyway

The Narrator here is a bit based off of Pollux (I love your little guy + the lore you gave him ok– it's just so??? PERFECT???? my vocabulary is failing me today cough cough) when it comes to the whole "realizing what he truly wants after being trapped in a simulation of a higher being's making." what can The Narrator expect himself to do when his mind is actively avoiding itself? what can he—someone whose had his humanity taken away—even say when he doesn't remember who he was?

he's not even a who anymore. just a what.

he isn't a person anymore. just a weapon.

just The Narrator.

(yes I took note of what you said about Wolfwood only being dubbed as "The Punisher" because it was the name of his gun hahahahhs– I thought it would be a neat little detail to add I dunno)

(also the urge to name him after Kevan Brighting is astounding, but at the same time "Henry" as a name fits him so well I'm going to sob)

When Jim first came into the mix and was forced into the position of "a man named Stanley," it made everything worse. Mostly. Ish. I still have stuff to consider so ahem

The Narrator's connection to Jim's brain (through the rigged hearing aids) is primarily focused on stronger human responses, such as movement and emotion (speaking is out of the question for obvious reasons), but the main thing The Narrator is made to focus on are Jim's movements (because his voice is used to control those responses). He won't be able to know whether or not his narrations can actually affect Jim's emotions—the only thing he can rely on are his physical responses, since they're always strong enough for The Narrator to slightly feel himself.

That's one of the main reasons why his physical body is stuck inside a capsule��it's to freeze his own responses to what he thinks he is (physically) feeling. Frozen responses include twitching, flinching, or other knee-jerk/instinctual reactions like stepping away and/or using one's arms to block anything coming for their head. Facial expressions are included.

oh yeah, and one more thing:

Human emotions are also reactionary responses

Those are something that The Narrator can also feel, however, due to his main priority being Jim's/Stanley's physical responses, he rarely (if ever) decides to acknowledge them. The added depression in Jim's life doesn't exactly help, since there's this thing called "emotional blunting" that affects the way someone feels towards certain situations/people/things (no seriously, search it up).

As time goes on, Jim basically goes under the stages of grief, except that he's stuck in the "depression" stage.

(also I'm a big fan of placing what feels like logic and reasoning when it comes to fictional situations so uhhh I might go off-topic every once in a while to do that hhahahshshs)

As Stanley's (well, there goes Jim) mental state worsens, The Narrator's own understanding of his (and also his own) needs is so terribly distorted that he may as well be as inhumane as the people who stole his humanity. Barely a day goes by where Stanley genuinely feels something, and the most he does on his own is put on that face mask (the blue surgeon ones) and his old work outfit, since The Narrator deemed that those things were "the perfect inconspicuous disguise!"

They were originally sent to The Gang™ to give Vash rigged earphones that were similar to Stanley's (aka, Vash's aren't hearing aids) so that The Narrator could make him return to Millions Knives himself.

What could go wrong?

("Stanley's mental state will definitely still continue to worsen ofc ofc ofc," I said, y'know like a liar. "Those two definitely won't get better and finally realize that this isn't the life they actually want hahaaaa of course not...")

(I was originally going to make the entire thing in one part but hey my brain is fried + I wanted to know how you were liking the storyline I made so far :P)

— 🅰️non || Aug. 10 2023

Oooo, this is all so cool. I genuinely enjoyed reading this. Your rambles really are always so fun to read ♡

I'm just imagining how cool of a story this could make. I might be tempted to draw a few scenes if you have anything in particular you'd like to see 👉👈

[simping-for-kamski]

12 Steps of Christmas

Hank Anderson and Leo Manfred meet in group therapy for their 99 problems they're trying to fix—mourning, addiction... But deviancy is on the rise, and Detroit is about to change radically. Will these two men change too?

Let's see if I can post a chapter everyday till Xmas! Read on Ao3

1. Anger

“Welcome to the group,” the therapist said. She was a human being and that was all that mattered.

The room was lit a bit too bright, and some ten persons were attending the session, sitting on bland chairs forming a circle. Hank felt like an idiot just being there. He almost didn’t attend the session—he’d had a few in the past weeks, but this week had been especially challenging. He’d nearly put a bullet in his own head just the evening before, and nearly put a bullet in his plastic partner’s head too less than twelve hours ago.

At least he wasn’t sitting in front of Maria this time—she always cried embarrassingly much. Instead, he sat in front of a new face in the group, a young man in his mid-twenties with heavy dark circles around his eyes and patchy stubble. His gaze was empty. His hair was a tangled mess. Hank couldn’t blame him for attending the meeting looking like that. Most participants weren’t in the best mental space, and it reflected on their appearance—Hank knew he was no exception.

As the round of introductions went, Hank learned that the newcomer was called Leo and recently lost his father. He didn’t tell much more. Seemed like the type who preferred to listen first. Hank had been there too, but that day, he’d sworn to himself that if he came to the meeting, he’d talk.

“My name’s Hank. I lost my son, Cole, three years ago. Traffic accident—I was driving,” he specified for Leo, who was new and didn’t know his story yet. “Cole made it to the ER but an android surgeon butchered him and…” If Cole had survived, Hank wouldn’t be sitting here, talking. “These past days been rough,” he admitted. “My boss assigned me to work on things to do with androids, and I even have one of those following me pretty much everywhere. It’s… been tough.”

He paused for a moment. The others gave him time, as it was obvious that he had more to say.

“I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with CyberLife,” Hank picked up at last, annoyance rising in his voice. “It’s not enough that I have to mourn my son, I also have to somehow accept that whole android bullshit and that… That, I can’t. I hate those fucking machines, I hate that they’re everywhere, and I hate, I really hate that they’re made to look so real and human, but they don’t feel a goddamn thing. I hate that the android who took my son’s life didn’t understand what life means, what death is. I…” He interrupted himself and shook his head. “These days, I… I’ve seen things and it’s messing my head, fucking my brain. I don’t know what to think anymore. I think… maybe it’d be easier for me to mourn Cole if…”

He lost himself in his spinning thoughts there. He wasn’t sure where he was going with that.

“My android partner,” he said instead, “I’ve seen him get destroyed right in front of me. You know what CyberLife did? Just fucking sent a new one. Same model, same face, everything. They didn’t even complain about doing it. And I just wonder—what did they do with the body? Tossed it in the trash? Just like that? Without a word? Like, for fuck’s sake… I don’t know. It’s all so wrong.”

There, Leo’s shoulders quivered and he discreetly excused himself as he drove back a sob. He didn’t speak though, and Hank didn’t feel like talking anymore. He got praise for sharing more about his story and for articulating his anger. The therapist went on about the importance of rituals in human culture, and the importance of the place of death in society, all while trying to keep a non-political stance over the position of androids in all that.

Hank ended up phasing out.

The session ended and as everybody helped to clean up the room, he found himself next to Leo, stacking up chairs together. The young man glanced at him, said nothing, glanced at him again.

“I’m sorry about your son,” he mumbled at last. “You must have been an incredible dad to miss him that much. I bet he was a great kid too.”

Hank nodded. “He was.”

Leo bit his lips. The other participants were exiting the room. “Uh… Hank?” he checked he got the name right. But then, “No, nothing. Sorry. I better run along, got another meeting to attend.”

“Yeah, same. No problem.”

[theinvisibledreamergirl]

Chap. 7: “Friendship questioned”

A.N: And I still hate this AU and this title because it isn’t much related to the topic 🙄

MASTERLIST 

———————————————————————

Donahue’s bar was flooded with interns and residents taking some break after their long night shifts and seemed to enjoy these minutes. The fantastic four (as Klaw would call) Elijah, Jackie, Sienna and Landry and the never-separated couple Dan and Imelda were sat together discussing about the new changes of Edenbrook Hospital that were notified yesterday.

“Could you even imagine? Doing your residency with the most elite diagnostics team in the world?!” Elijah exclaimed.

“Never in my life would’ve thought of this dream.” Landry sighed in a wandered gaze.

“Screw you. This is totally obvious that I am going to be the winner of it.” Jackie put down the shot of tequila raising her eyebrows.

“Someone looks very confident.” Dan replied with a smirk.

“Of course I am not even you scalpel jockeys can stand us.”

“Seriously why didn’t you two sign up for this? Even the surgeons could be part of the fellowship.” Sienna asked.

Imy let a sigh. “Yeah we know but I don’t think we could waste our precious free time plus diagnosing the patients. Scalpel is enough for us. Right sweetie?

Dan kissed the back of her hand gently. “Of course love.”

“Aww you are so cute.”

“Yuck get a room you two already. It’s getting enough disgust in here.” Jackie admitted and everyone shared a laugh.

“What about Klaw? Do you know if she has signed up?” Landry asked curiously. She had mentioned before that she wanted to work with Ethan Ramsey closely and he was also felt in debt for saving his life from that man Miles in their first day of work.

“Hm. I don’t know but I think she had. She would never miss this rare opportunity.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Well you’re wrong.” A voice made them to turn their gazes to the tired and not so amused face of Klaw with Bryce accompanying her.

“What?!” Everyone said in unison shocked except from Jackie who snorted.

“See? I told you scalpels cannot handle the diagnosis!”

“You either are stupid for real or you have a reason that you didn’t want this.” Eiljah admitted and a sudden wave of relief was seen in Landry’s face in which Dan noticed it.

“But Klaw... why did you change your mind?” Imy asked in confusion but her expression let her that something had happened and she looked at Bryce for some answers but he mouthed.

Later.

“I’m going to the bathroom I’ll... catch up with you.”

While she was nodding Bryce gave her a knowing glance in which she replied silently with a reassuring smile.

I’ll be fine.

When she made herself disappear to the corner so her friends wouldn’t see her, she texted to Reggie.

Now. We need to talk.

Thankfully he saw the message and carefully after serving the drinks to the guys he went in the same dark room where his other friend was waiting.

“What now?” He crossed his arms.

“Care to explain your friendship with Ethan Ramsey?” She arched her left eyebrow.

He let an exhale knowing that she wouldn’t forget this despite her busy schedule in hospital.

“Fine. I’ll say this quickly... Ethan and I have known each other for ten years since he came for the first time in Boston after university. He wasn’t alone though. He was with Simon and they both needed a strong drink after their first day as interns. It was also my first week in Boston and I wanted to have a good job so I bought this bar and let me tell you-” He motioned with his index finger the surroundings. “- it wasn’t like this. It was rebuilt again thanks to them who offered their money’s to help me and we’re like partners of this bar and after that Simon decided to name it ‘Donahue’.” He chuckled. “Weird name huh?”

Reggie wanted to ease the tension that was appearing in Klaw’s face but that didn’t change it.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“Klaw I seriously didn’t know you would come here. I really wanted to tell you but I just didn’t know how. Look... if you are worried about your involvement with the Mercy Park Crew I won’t tell anything to Ethan.”

“It’s not about that Reggie. I’m just upset because I thought I could trust you and the contrary. Because we’re friends right?” She hesitated at first before saying. “And about Vaug-“

“Do not try mention his name!” He glared at her giving some cold chills down her spine. She knew his anger but despite of that she wanted to try again.

“Vaughn wants to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk with a gangster and a criminal who left his family for his own pleasures!” He hissed. “My uncle is devastated and auntie too and I’m not going to let him to enter to our lives ever again!”

She sighed. “I know but he told me-.”

“You should go back to your friends.” He cut her off without giving a second glance.

“Reggie...”

“Go.” He said courtly. “They’ll suspect and you don’t want this, right?” She only nodded when he narrowed his eyebrows. “You go first and I’ll come after two minutes.”

Klaw did as he said. She truly wanted the two cousins to talk about their misunderstandings and solve them to be united again. But it was clearly that this would take a long time given the fact that Reggie was a hot-tempered guy even though it didn’t look from the outside to other people.

Bryce had told his friends about the tragic death of Dolores and now they could understand why Klaw didn’t want to participate in the competition. But this wasn’t the thing he worried about.

Strong arms had been looping her maybe for a couple of minutes but for her it looked like an eternity sleeping.

She blinked her eyes slowly while trying to comprehend what happened.

Oh she thought. Yes- she forgot to drink her usual pills and ran with a fake excuse to her attending to go to the locker room.

And after drinking them her body twisted in a quick motion until feeling someone calling her name.

Definitely it was a man and at first she got worried if he was the one she was thinking about.

But instead she was met with green scrubs and she could recognise that megawatt smile everywhere.

“Look who’s waken up.”

“B-Bryce?”

“Yeah scalpel jockey in the flesh.”

“What’re you doing here?” She murmured slowly.

“Uhm helping and carrying you? Because you were about to knock your head in the ground and your skull would be opened?” She giggled. He was so good at making her feel better. “Now will you tell me why’s in your locker an inhibitor bar?”

She gulped hardly trying to think of an excuse. “It’s- for calmness.”

What a great lie to say him.

“Klaw... you can trust me.” To prove it he caressed her cheek softly letting his thumb linger. Bryce Lahela had feelings for this girl like no one else and seeing her in this state- he wanted to be her saviour. “Look... I’ve seen you avoiding us in many occasions and not interacting with us at all. You refused first to play with me. Second you haven’t given any answer to Sienna about moving together and the third you’ve been pulling your leg all of this week in many surgeries just so you can’t meet us. And now this?” He shook his head. “There’s clearly something wrong with you.”

From the look of his eyes Klaw saw the sincerity and the kindness of him that never thought to come out given the fact that he was always cheerful and flirty all the time. That’s when she started to trust him and thought he wasn’t kind of manipulating person to be. But of course she couldn’t tell him the whole truth even if she wanted to.

“I...” she gulped nervously before inhaling sharply. “I suffer from PTSD Bryce.” That’s when her tears started to drop off her cheeks despite many of her attempts not to.

His grip on her tightened and pulled her in a comforting hug while she was sobbing. Bryce had never seen her in such a devastating situation because she looked strong and capable of everything but clearly this was the contrary.

“Shh... it’s alright Klaw... I’m here.”

“I’m sorry Bryce I-“

“You don’t need to apologise to me.” He frowned his eyebrows. “It’s me who should say that. I’ve asked too much for this, have I?”

“No, you moron. Of course you haven’t.” She scolded him with a slap on his arm. “You were worried about me and there’s nothing to apologise to.”

He sighed. “Does anyone else know this?”

“Only Dan and Imy.”

“Why don’t you tell the others?”

“I’m not ready Bryce I mean... I don’t want to seem like fragile and my friendship to be built because everyone feels sorry about me. And that is really disgusting.”

He laughed revealing his shining teeth. “Well they will know it one day and you won’t escape from that.”

“If you don’t tell them of course.” She jumped from his lap to head to the door. He caught her wrist.

“Whoa hold on where do you think you’re going miss? You just fainted in front of my eyes and I am going to let you go? No way.”

“I have to go back to NICU. Ethan is waiting for me.” The last words fell from her mouth unexpectedly and that’s when Bryce grinned clearly amused.

“Well well someone calls her attending by his name. Hm was he good on his office?”

She laughed loudly. “Bryce what the hell you’re saying? I was talking about Dolores Hudson’s son, Ethan.” And when her smile faded she whispered. “She died today leaving alone the little tadpole and I’m looking after him with Dr. Ramsey.”

His smile faltered too and felt in regret saying it.

Great Bryce you made her upset.

“I’m sorry Klaw. Uhm... you can go now.” He opened the door to let her go first gently but before she left he felt a kiss on his cheek and a soft voice whispering to his ear.

“Thank you for everything scalpel king.”

Not later she joined her friends who were now looking at her with concerns. Suddenly Sienna got up from her seat and hugged her tightly.

“I’m so sorry dolphin.” She whispered sweetly like she was. It was about Dolores. “Please don’t mind our reactions about your decision.”

“It’s okay Sienna. I’m fine.” Her friend assured but she made a face like she wasn’t convinced. “I really am dolphin.” She rubbed her back.

“If you say so.”

“Klaw we’re sorry too.” Elijah said. “I mean damn. That was really heartbreaking and I’m feeling goosebumps now.”

“I can’t imagine what it feels like to grieve for your first patient so sorry from me too.” Jackie said sadly.

“Guys can you please stop this emotional conversation? We have to celebrate for your competition. Right Bryce?” Klaw smiled at him.

“Hell yeah we are fucking doing it!” He stood up letting his feet up the chair to raise a toast. “We surgeons wish you medical interns a very pleasant time with grumps like Ramsey and Mirani and sweets like Delarosa and Tennant. May the best wins! Cheers!”

“Cheers!” Everyone sipped their drinks in one gulp until Ines and Zaid joined them. Ines congratulated them with a hug whereas Zaid with his glaring face to surgeons Bryce and Dan said that even if one of the interns won they wouldn’t merit that.

——————————————————————

“Ethan come on it will be just a meeting.” She pleaded to him. “It won’t kill you.”

“I said no Harper.”

“It is a great opportunity for all of us to renew the project we have with the Banner Health.”

“I still can’t believe that you want us to schmooze in all of their luxurious, idiotic and ridiculous things only for our hospital. Why didn’t you bring Simon for this? He clearly has a much better poker face than I do.”

She leaned closer to him to tie his collar. “Well I would but since the Banner Health Representatives are interested on your research then why don’t we use this opportunity? Besides even Naveen would agree on that.” She gave him a lightly kiss while caressing his broad shoulders. “Come on let’s hit ‘em before we are late.”

Harper was a such in a good mood today that asked himself if she would’ve stayed the same if she knew the real reason why Naveen gave up his position two weeks ago.

“I came up with a decision.”

“What’s wrong Naveen? You called us in such a hurry. Everything okay?” Simon asked worriedly when he saw also Ethan standing with crossed arms behind the chief clearly disapproving.

Ethan knew this and just before they would enter the diagnostics office they debated whether or not to tell everyone about his health condition that was deteriorating day by day and still none of them had arrived into a conclusion what this illness was.

“The main position of this team will be held by Dr. Ramsey.”

“What?!” The shock was evident in all of the team’s faces. Simon was eyeing to Ethan if he knew something about this but instead he was met with a shrug.

“Please doctors calm down.”

Clearly the one who couldn’t calm down herself was Dr. June Hirata who wanted nothing more than the position of the diagnostics which had worked for it ten years and seeing that the jerk doctor take it- made her blood boiled.

“But Dr. Banerji...” Dr. Baz Mirani spoke up frantically. “I’m not saying Ethan isn’t a good doctor but... may I ask why?”

“Ah Baz. I really appreciate your concern but I thought as an old man sometimes I need to rest y’know... I’ve come to an age that everything can happen and the retirement will be the best for me.”

“Are you sick?” Edgar asked in suspicion in which Ethan felt his jaw tightened and again Naveen responded with a smile.

“My dear Edgar. If I were sick I would’ve been now at one of your operation theatres right?”

“Goodness Naveen don’t even say that!” He scolded.

“Well I guess I have to congratulate you my pal.” Simon got up and pulled Ethan in a tightly hug. “I have to say that you saved me from a big responsibility so thanks a lot Naveen!” Even though he wanted to lighten up the strange moment they were experiencing his thoughts were a fog.

“Ha. Very funny Simon.”

Naveen chuckled to them. “And also I’ve told Harper that she will be the Chief of Medicine... if that’s okay to you.”

“Absolutely Naveen.” Everyone agreed but Ethan didn’t say anything at first. His mentor challenged him with an eyebrow and he nodded in half-agreement.

“Well then doctors if you don’t have anything else to say- have a nice day!”

Ethan really wanted to tell Harper and Simon about it but he made a promise to his mentor to not bring up this conversation ever again.

“I’m really going to miss being a neurosurgeon y’know. It’s just a strange feeling not to touch the scalpel while wearing your mask and gloves to open the skull. Now the only thing that I can touch are papers. Unbelievable.” She chuckled while Ethan was driving his car. “Ethan?”

She raised her eyebrow seeing that he wasn’t paying attention to her. In these days Ethan had been acting differently since she was announced as the Chief. Surely there was no surgery that could stop her from meeting him or giving some slyly glances when they had crossed their ways. He looked deep in thought and if that was a reason behind of it, Harper would be delighted to know it if was about their relationship.

And Ethan Ramsey was thinking about a certain woman. The piercing brown eyes who had appeared multiple times in his dreams. He gripped tightly the steer trying to forget that rare smile she gave him when they were looking after little Ethan Hudson.

After making their coffees from his machine that no one in the hospital knew about it he was waiting for the other while checking his watch. He smirked at the thought of his secret. In the quiet NICU room were heard soft steps of his intern who gave him a rare smile he had never seen before.

“Am I late?”

“No you were just eight minutes late.”

She giggled and teased him. “You’ve been counting the minutes. Wow.”

“Just sit down and take it.”

He handed her the coffee packed in a plastic container just like one those of Starbucks. When she sipped it she felt another kind of taste and let out content moan.

“This isn’t Edenbrook’s coffee. It’s clearly a cappuccino.”

He shook his head before sipping. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar. This is exactly the same coffee I do in my apartment and it’s originally from Brazil. It’s the same taste and you-“ she pointed her finger to him. “- can’t deny it.”

Instead of answering her he replayed again the moment when she moved her tongue before saying the letter ‘L’.

Ethan get hold of yourself.

He sighed in defeat revealing his secret. “This is from my private coffee machine.” She clapped her hands in victory while whispering ‘yes’ to herself whereas he scoffed. “As soon as I got the office I vowed never to drink that caffeinated dishwasher again. No one knows it so...”

“I won’t tell a soul.” She said before laughing quietly and holding her hand to stop it but when she saw the warning gaze of her attending she pursed her lips. “Okay sorry.”

“Ethan?”

“Uh, yes Harper what were you saying?”

“You took us into the wrong road.”

He took a look of the signs which were leading them to Boston Common instead of the baseball stadium so he shifted his direction to the right one.

They arrived at the local bar where the baseball game was playing. Ironic to Ethan was that the two squads would always choose blue and red uniforms to play. While he was ordering two drinks to the bartender Harper got an emergency call from the hospital and that’s when he didn’t want to deal this by his own.

Jesus Christ what else are you bringing to me now huh?

Apparently his bragging on his mind was stopped when in the corner of his eyes a young woman in her sportswear appeared with her hair tied up, drinking a bit of cigarette. He almost could feel her perfume. That perfume who was standing next to him two weeks ago and his observation skills never failed him. It was indeed that kind of smell that he wanted to forget but it seemed to be inevitable.

After she texted Bryce on her phone she glanced up to see the tall figure standing in a stool enjoying his casual scotch. Her breath hitched when she realized her cigarette was still on her fingers and luckily she found the nearest bin to throw it. She didn’t want another embarrasment in front of him as she moved closer.

God damnit. How is possible that there’s not a single day without seeing him?

“Someone’s date didn’t go as well as expected huh?” She said playfully as if to break the ice but she knew that a man like him wouldn’t bring his girlfriend here. But Klaw wasn’t sure why she was enjoying this little teasing.

“Did you enjoy your smoke?” That’s where she rolled her eyes meaning that he saw it and Ethan curled the corner of his lips. “About the answer of your question no- I’m not in a date. I’m here to renew the contract between Edenbrook and Banner Health Rep and this drink was for Harper but she had to go back to hospital for an emergency case.”

“Oh I see.” She bit her lower lip nervously. The Banner surname. Such familiarity to her. But she didn’t want to think about it because she knew exactly who was behind of that great company. His words interrupted her thoughts.

“And what about you?”

“I’m trying to spend this miraculously day off with my friends. We saw a baseball game in which I had absolutely no idea how it was played and the funny thing was that I was cheering about the blue ones but then I did the same for the red ones clapping like a fool.” She giggled. “I’m literally stupid.”

“Glad that you are aware of it.”

“Hey.” She smacked his arm. “I’m not the only stupid here by the way.” She smiled while when he furrowed his eyebrows. “You clearly are staying here in this bar thinking ‘damn how am I going to survive those pesky and petulant rich people in front of me’ and trying to avoid them but you can’t do that because the deals with Edenbrook are in your hands. Am I correct?”

“Not always.” She gave him an incredulous look. “Okay you caught me. They’re trying to butter me up with lobster, fine wine and all the ridiculous luxuries they can afford.” He sighed. “It’s terrible. And I’m not a man for... schmoozing.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeeeah I’m almost believing it.” But she did actually. It was just one of her ways to not express herself and it was clearly a rule she lived with for a long time now.

“As much as it humiliates me to ask a favour of an intern... would you... join me upstairs?”

Did he just ask me to... what? But what if I meet his uncle? No. It’s not possible for him to be there. Whatever happens put a poker face... no one knows you.

He sensed her hesitation and added. “I won’t keep you much longer. I just don’t think I’ll survive much longer on my own.”

“Did I say no?” She smiled again and got up from her seat.

He smiled aback. “Follow me then.”

The box suite had a magnificent view of the stadium and a part of Boston Highway. Surely this thing wasn’t foreign to Klaw. Being with rich people. She knew how they used their strategies to attract doctors like Ethan Ramsey or anyone else. But she wasn’t worried about that. She took a brief look at the guests of the room and luckily was no sign of his uncle.

“If you are going to give me lectures about how to behave in front of them don’t.” To prove it she took two glasses of wines before he would say it.

“Then I’m waiting to see what gems are you going to reveal to them Rookie.”

“Watch and learn Dr. Ramsey.” She clinked her glass with his.

“Don’t be such confident. I’ve seen many doctors changing their priorities to be part of these things and don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

“Got it Sir.” She winked and maybe that was a bit unprofessional but that came naturally to her and unexpectedly he didn’t even seem to be bothered. Klaw could feel her guilt building up in herself for not telling the truth to her attending what actually happened before arriving at NICU but her thoughts were interrupted until-

“Ethan, Ethan there you are!” A chirping voice was heard in the middle of the crowd now approaching them with an amusing face.

“Smile a bit Dr. Ramsey.” She muttered.

“I am Dr. Craig.” He muttered back.

“Yes from what I’m seeing now you have a very good poker face.” She mocked.

He scoffed. “I am a doctor not an actor for god’s sakes!” Their voices were now barely a whisper as the representatives were coming closer and closer.

“Then you should be.” And both shared a quick glance.

His, a worried and a troubled one.

Hers, a reassuring and a supportive glance.

He seriously didn’t expect their conversation to go flow and in such a quick way thanks to an intern. They finally managed to renew the contract and she didn’t let them escape without her request for better rates on cardiac services. This was one of the biggest achievements they’ve had and a smirk appeared on her face while turning to his gaze back.

“Okay you don’t need to say it.” He raised his hand averting her.

“The future of medicine?”

“Stop it.”

“One of the most promising doctors?”

“I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

“But you wouldn’t have won without me Dr. Ramsey. Now we’re double trouble.”

He scoffed. “I think you are the real trouble here Rookie. Besides I couldn’t introduce you as a colossal pain in my ass, could I?”

“Ha. Ha.” She mocked him while rolling her eyes.

Both of them took their seats to enjoy the last part of the game there. When she thought everything was back to normal that question came back as if slapped her face.

“Why haven’t you signed up for the competition?”

So Klaw how are you going to respond now to your mentor huh? Another lie you want to create? And you pretend that he’s a liar. Fuck it.

“As my bestie said: ‘Scalpel is enough for me.’ So I’m not going to waste that little free time in diagnosing.”

“Then why in your application was written that you wanted to be under my wing? Care to explain?”

“It was just a bingo.” She shrugged. “I mean I didn’t know with who I wanted to work so I just picked your name since I’ve read your book.”

He huffed. “You are very smart Craig but when it comes to lies you are very subtle.”

She closed her eyes for a moment while bringing back that fidgety of her fingers- and indicator that she was worried about something. “I don’t want to ruin my friendship because I know if I enter to this competition we will start to have rivalries and in the end we will never talk to each other. I’ve been thinking all of this time Dr. Ramsey, believe me. It’s not easy when you just find out that someone will dump you to get their spot on his or her place. It’s like an animalistic fight for territory but this is between people and this takes to a much cruelty and I don’t want to be part of this. I don’t want to have my friendship questioned.”

Ethan listened attentively to her reasoning and her how her logic had been analysing all of the pros and cons of being part of the competition. She clearly wasn’t a clueless intern. She was an adult who seemed to have been through a lot in her life.

“Remarkably wise outlook for an intern.” He admitted and she watched him in surprise. “Even my friends did the same when they started their residencies and now they’re apart from their rivalries and they’ve put boundaries to each other. So you’re smart to value your allies.”

She smiled while shaking her head in disbelief. “You just called me smart two times.”

He warned her. “And if you tell anyone I said that, I will disavow that entirely.”

“Duly noted.”

First, their meeting in London.

Second, their interaction with little Ethan.

And this was the third.

What else they would keep to each other?

——————————————————————

In the interns new apartment another friend of theirs joined them surprisingly with her husky dog. Sienna was the most excited one as she pulled her in crush hug leaving Klaw breathless.

“What a day, what a game!” Elijah said happily.

Jackie shook her head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe Landry’s advice to the manager got the Nighthawks to come back and win.”

“Well I wouldn’t say it was all me.” Landry grinned triumphantly. “All I did was examine the evidence and diagnose the problem. Which is why you can all kiss that diagnostic team position goodbye.”

“Ha. Dream on, buddy. I’ll give you a run for your money!”

While they were laughing Sienna and Klaw were curled up in a couch patting Jonah’s furry.

“Why did you name him Jonah?”

“I don’t know it just came out naturally. And I’m glad I put that name too. Sienna...”

“Yes?” She asked, her encouraging smile always evident on her face.

Before Klaw would talk about her proposition to move to this apartment her phone rang.

Who in the goddamn hell calls in this hour?

She excused herself while going to the balcony and shut the glass door carefully. “Hello?”

“Good evening Miss Craig! I-I’m terribly sorry that I’m calling in such lateness!” She recognised this voice. It was the receptionist of the apartment where she was staying.

“Yes Billy. Tell me.”

“Uhm there’s a package that came from postal service ma’am and it’s from Greece.”

“From Greece? Who sent this?”

“Let me check ma’am...” she heard some ruffles and scratches. “It’s from Ms. Zelda Ahmad. The location is Athens. What should I do with it?”

Her heart wrenched when she heard her aunt’s name in such a long time. The last meeting with her was when she buried her parents and her brother and went immediately to Los Angeles. To go to that inevitable and dangerous path which seemed to never have ended for her.

“Uhm ma’am are you there?” Billy asked when he didn’t hear anything from the owner and thought to ask her again. “What should I do with the package?”

“Keep it.” She said courtly. “I’ll be there as soon as possible to take it.”

“As you wish ma’am.”

She ended abruptly the call remembering why her aunt had sent her a package. After that Sienna opened the glass door sensing her friend’s troubled mind. “Is everything okay Klaw?”

“Oh, yes Sienna. No worries but can you guys keep Jonah for a minute?”

“Yeah sure but- where are you going?”

“There’s something that I’ve should done before.” She didn’t know how she created that line and Sienna gave her a smile which she did aback. Still not knowing the reason behind of that.

If her friends would’ve known how fast she came to their apartment... clearly they didn’t know that a black muscled Porsche parked in an underground garage was everything that a girl like Klaw Craig would need. She was thankful for this vehicle to have not only the best speed but also the best acceleration to drift a bit where there were no cops patrolling.

She took the package from Billy to jump onto the elevator, her foot tapping nervously to open it. She was afraid of what her aunt could’ve sent her because it had been four years with her absence and thought for a moment of those rare calls on the phone were really something or not.

Klaw didn’t want to open the door while her breath was hitching.

“Oh come on Klaw you can do this. It’s just a package and nothing else.” She scolded herself.

She unlocked the door rapidly and headed to her suite, tossing it to the bed. Her lips twitched several times while eating the insides of her cheeks anxiously. She didn’t know why felt afraid to open it because as much as she could remember she asked Zelda if there was something that her grandma liked such as ornaments or something that she could keep it too to her home. At least reminding bits of her memory.

When she dug the knife inside of it there were some books that she read while she was younger in her years and in the end of it...

She gasped.

The end revealed some medical files with the logo of Edenbrook Hospital. It were clearly her grandmother’s.

Her eyes widened. Now she remembered. She asked Zelda that she needed to see everything that was related to her grandmother’s illness- the treatment, the surgery appointment and the doctor’s name who did the operation. Zelda had said in that time she didn’t remember exactly where she put them because apparently her sister (Klaw’s mother) Marilyn obligated her to not show anything to Klaw.

Upon the files there was a card with some words scribbled.

To my gummy bear niece.

She laughed because she dearly missed the way her aunt called her then started to open it slowly.

Agapití [Dear] Helena,

When you were younger you were always our precious niece that I, Andreas and Mama DD ever wanted. I can’t say how lucky and how proud I am that you’re now a grown woman and an independent one. You know what many other things I could’ve written to you now but I’ll just keep it short. We love you so much and I want to apologise for lying at you at first when you requested Mama DD’s files. Your mother told me to keep them away because she knew your hot temper and you would do everything to find justice. Now no one is stopping you. Here’s everything you need to know which I hope they’ll be helpful. You can continue on your quest my darling. Because I’m waiting and believe me... Mari is waiting too.

xoxo, Z

When she opened the file was the patients name and the condition of her illness altogether with the treatment in which she already knew. But the surgery appointment was nowhere to be found.

“Fuck it!” She shouted while searching for other files. “But if there was a surgery appointment then surely one of them must be on the list of the Diagnostics Team.”

Dr. Banerji’s name wasn’t on the list. The same thing was with Simon but he had told her in the 2011 he was doing some practices in New Mexico and came back after two weeks.

The only names remained were:

Dr. Akash Mirani

Dr. June Hirata

Dr. Kenji Hirata

“Who the hell are these people?” She frowned in annoyance.

Dr. Harper Emery

“Dr. Emery was in Diagnostics Team too? So she knows what has happened to Daisy.” She seethed angrily given the fact that she was a well-respected neurosurgeon. She scoffed. “Even you aren’t perfect as anyone can think Harper Emery.”

True. Nobody was perfect and neither was the last name.

Her eyes landed to the first letter...to the second, to the third until it revealed the full name with the doctor’s title.

Dr. Ethan Ramsey

She stayed still while a chill was running down her spine. Her lips trembled threatening to be welled up in tears. She saw the name again and shook her head in disbelief. Maybe she wasn’t looking properly. Maybe she needed glasses to see better. Maybe...

“No, no... it can’t be... it can’t be.” She said frantically.

She was panting hardly trying to collect herself.

She felt every emotion in one second and couldn’t understand what she was feeling. Relief? Happiness? Anger? Rage? Betray? Fear?

What she knew now was that she had a newly profound change.

Even though she had some bits of good memories with him it seemed like they were vanished.

A change that coursed down her body and made her to look into the mirror on the wall as she remembered some few words.

Competition makes them stronger.

And now she knew exactly what to do. If she wins it she would reach to the truth.

And a new confidence was now appearing even in her voice now.

“Ethan Ramsey... be prepared to see this Rookie being your closest ally.”

She smirked devilishly because if Klaw Helena Craig wanted something... she definitely would take it.

And there was still time before all zeros lined up.

—————————————————-—————

TAGS WILL APPEAR IN A REBLOG!

Part 8: TBA*

Ps: please before you think what’s going to happen in the next part interact with this post.

from now on only the graduation of high school in june is much more important for me now... and also sorry for not replying to your supportive messages and for this post too... i don’t feel like I’m ready... but i truly appreciate them...

until then... stay safe folks...

bye. ❤️ K

[originalcontent]

Well. Forgot to make our final pathologic post, because we did it, we finished the game. We just played all the remaining days at once. Not going to go super hard on the plot details bc if you know them then you know them, all I can say is holy shiiiiiiit this was such a good story/mystery/choice/everything.

First order of business: casualties.

All the children except Grace survived. When we had five panaceas, we chose Sticky, Murky, Khan, Notkin, and Capella, and we weren't able to find any more shmowders until it was too late. Taya was lucky and Grace wasn't. I feel kinda bad but also I don't know what more we could have done. God all of the kids and their final conversations when they all think they're going to die, they're so sad and sweet and I love them all so much.

The thing I'm SUPER bummed about is that Stakh, Lara, and Bad Grief all died. Like we did everything we could for all of them, but I'm still sad about it. One regret from this game is that I think we should have spent more time with them. I should have tried to make things right with them. I was so focused on the kids, and I don't regret that, but also I kept putting other things before them as well and I should have tried harder.

The other casualties were Big Vlad, Maria Kaina, Eva Yan, and Anna Angel, who was apparently a character but I think we literally never spoke with her in our playthrough. And Aglaya, although I don't know how we could have saved her either. Everyone else survived. I don't know the typical death toll for this game, but we did better than I was expecting us to, all things considered.

Oh wait, Nara's also dead. That wasn't an incredibly disturbing scene or anything. Like I'm getting ahead of myself a bit but jesus the kinfolk terrify me sometimes. My sister mentioned that it's probably a very different game if we commit super hard to exploring their plotline, and she's probably right. That whole sequence though... the blood, the hearts... it's a lot. I'm not going into detail bc if you've played the game then you already know what's down there, but hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I feel like replaying this game knowing everything would put a LOT of earlier conversations into new context.

Still! That was the only place we death spiraled this time! Death spiral escaped! That's probably due in no small part to the presence of the soldiers. Like yes they're terrible and them burning people alive is terrifying, but also we discovered the strategy that every time we were attacked by someone we could just have them chase us past a soldier who would protect us. We still had to sneak around a lot but overall it meant we had a lot fewer fights.

The polyhedron was gorgeous. We probably wasted a lot of time visiting it, but it was wonderful. I wanted to go back when all the kids were there but they didn't let us. Super into the earth/sky dichotomy of Notkin's and Khan's gangs.

Block was sure something. When I first met him he was meeting with my three [living :(] best friends but none of them would talk to me. Anyway. When he arrives everyone's saying they loved him, then later on we accidentally walk into the most obvious coup ever, and then the next day he's back in charge like nothing happened. And then on the last day there's this massive violent internal conflict? Plus the whole thing with him and Aglaya (weren't they working together in the prologue?) and plus they keep giving us heart attacks saying they're going to level the town and then changing their minds. Thank god for Changeling who was apparently the single persuasive voice in saving everyone? I guess? We've had our ups and downs but honestly she was waaaaaaay more reliable than Daniil at the end.

I told her I'd help her cure a patient in the hospital, but I didn't have any panacea or shmowder so in the end I couldn't, but afterwards I was glad I hadn't helped her. I already felt terrible I didn't have enough living blood for all the children when they were all spontaneously infected, and it would have been so much worse if I had been able to help another but I'd wasted it on a random person earlier.

... Is Aglaya in love with Artemy? Or are they just two agents who recognize said agency in one another? Everyone spent all game hyping her up as some sort of monster but she was my friend and she listened to me. And she died trying to save everyone I guess.

The kids...just. All of them. Notkin and Capella both told us to let them die but to make sure Khan was okay. Murky saying she'd loved Artemy since the first time she saw him. God everything they said and did I love them. I can't imagine playing this game as either of the other characters because I can't imagine going through this town and not carrying deeply about all the kids like this.

So I think...I think I made my choice long before I actually made the choice itself, you know? There was only ever going to be one choice.

Day 11 was the first and only day when I knew exactly what I had to do. I mean I guess it was in the stage directions and everything. Thank you dear Fellow Traveler for feeding us the night before--did you know we'd never visited the dead item shop until the last night? Probably would have made finding food and medicine a lot easier. But anyway, when the day began I didn't quite understand the significance of the stage directions because the Haruspex looking for couriers did not sound like the dramatic climax to the story that I knew this day was supposed to be. Still, I looked for the couriers.

I think I visited the three locations in the order I was supposed to. Seeing Daniil like that with his gun and bloody hands, sitting in a room of corpses...hearing him ramble...oh man I was so conflicted, this whole game I'd thought that even though I teased him, I would always ultimately back his plays because I trusted him and I knew that ultimately he wanted to help people too. Hearing him tell me what he wanted me to do then at the end of everything...he honestly scared me a bit.

The Changeling and I seemed much more on the same page at the end of everything. Being in the middle of a field with armed soldiers closing in from all sides was kind of terrifying though. I didn't stay to witness what she did with them. She’s okay though, she’s alive.

Wild goose chase for the final courier eventually took me to the bar where I met an injured bandit and was able to actually perform a surgery for the first time in the entire fucking game. I really enjoyed that because I'm supposed to be a fucking surgeon.

Meeting my understudy fucking killed me. I cannot BELIEVE that the final courier who was carrying the only file that could save the whole town was canonically murdered by the understudy of the protagonist. How the hell is that a real plot point, do you have any idea how much I adore that, that is more meta than literally anything else that has happened in this whole game. I fucking died. I definitely have been playing this game as Artemy rather than as Actor, and I think that made the whole scene even funnier. His whole thing about taking a new direction with the character, the whole "you're getting paid for this??", the fact that Artemy was so offended by literally every aspect of his existence that we didn't even know what to criticize. At the end I was like "yeah I'm definitely going to kill this guy" but we're nice people and we let him surrender. His inventory consisted of a rusty scalpel, a hazelnut, and a single piece of twyre, which was the most incredible parody of Artemy's inventory that I can imagine and killed me all over again.

The kin folk all met with me and begged me not to let them die. Maybe things could have been different, but again, I knew my choice and deep down I always knew what we were going to choose at the end. When you start the game, day one, there are two things that are immediately striking about the town. One, it's full of living folklore, and two, it's full of children, and those are the two things that make the town special and wonderful. When you look back on it all, there was only ever one way this could all end.

The dead courier (murdered by my own fucking understudy rather than an actual character, still dying) was a dramatic sight. It's lucky I had to sleep then or I probably wouldn't have found him.

After I made my choice, the disease tried to murder me. It infected literally every district I moved through, manifesting in every single passageway. I just chugged my tinctures and moved as well as I could, because fuck you disease, you are nothing to me. Obviously at that point nothing really could stop me. I considered saving in the cathedral, but what would be the point?

Day 12 was so bright and peaceful and nice. I could just walk around for once with no fear of getting lost or hungry or running out of time. I'm still really sad my childhood friends weren't alive to share it with me, but I enjoyed talking to everyone. My favorite little end conversations were Taya and Notkin for sheer adorable factor, Yulia so Artemy could say he wanted her to be the one to tell his story and to make it as undramatic as possible (fuck you Mark), Daniil because it was super cute and I’m glad that after it all things are okay between us and I got to make fun of him for trying to talk in my language, and Andrey and Peter because literally nothing made me feel better about my choice to destroy the polyhedron than listening to them complain about it.

And then the theater, where I talked to everyone who'd died and to Mark Immortell. He told me he'd need to try again with a different protagonist (gee I wonder who he could be referring to, such a shame we'll never know) and that I could go into the back and take off my mask now. I considered it for a bit, but it didn't feel right, so I decided that I was Artemy and I went back outside.

This game was wonderful. It was beautiful. It has such a fundamental understanding of what theater is and what makes something theatrical (lose me with your cinematic games, theater and cinema are completely different things and the former is impossibly beautiful but is also almost impossible to recreate when not in person). It's worldbuilding was immaculate, and for all the stress it caused I'm really happy for it.

I say this every time, but I love Artemy so fucking much. Give me a character who is a monster and a healer and who is full of anger but also so much love, and then just have him adopt 7+ children why don't you. He is so wonderful and good and interesting and I am in love with him.

(Edit: And then like a month later, just now, we went back to our last save and threw the documents in the trash so we could play through the other ending. I think the diurnal ending is definitely the better one, although it was nice to see the polyhedron again and to talk to all the game developers. <3 Also the goodbyes to Daniil and Notkin were super sad in that one, I did what Daniil wanted, he won’t even stay? This is so sad.)

Well that's our pathologic playthrough. We know there's a lot we missed and we may return to the game at some point. (Looked up a plot summary afterwards and there’s just so much else. Must save my childhood friends next time.) Game is very good though. It's been wild. Marbles sometime in the next few days. :)

[but-i-feel-fine]

I BELIEVE UNIVERSAL MAKING IS A HORRIBLE IDEA

here is why

Math. I’m going to explain why universal masking is a horrible idea with math.

The problem of universal masking has been so clear to me that I haven’t engaged the debate with any presence. The arguments fly back and forth with equal parts passion and incredulity. “How can you think that, you monster” is the conclusion of any “dialogue”. Let’s face it, there is not much dialogue happening on this planet right now in any arena.

So that’s it! I’m stepping it! I’m going to put this to rest once and for all and I am sure my massive following and millions of readers will usher in a new age of sound reason.

Math.

First a couple of points to clarify mask use before I astound you with the most obvious of equations.

Masks do work, at some things. But not all masks work equally at all things. Dr. Fauci the magnanimous just stated what matters is wearing a mask, any mask. This type of ridiculous logic is why I am spending time earmarked for Riverdale to write this post. This statement is, in a word, stupid. It is meant to give the panicked public a sense of control, but it also creates a religious cast of acolytes, and by nature of the apparent consequences, self appointed inquisitors. It’s garbage science to be sure, but it is even worse leadership. Even the once holy Michael Osterholm stated that cloth masks are ineffective (August 3, 2021). And they mostly are ineffective for anything positive besides a fashion statement. (I don’t take blind adherence to be positive). So let’s just take these ridiculous and useless items out of our discussion. They are not for the serious inquirer.

What about the surgical masks? Medical personal wear them! Surely, they do this for a very good reason. Why do they wear masks in the operating room?

This line of thought is again, so obvious to me I believed it would have been discussed ages ago. These masks are effective for droplets. Period. And why are droplets important in sterile environments? Well it’s the word sterile. Bacteria people. Nurses generally wear the masks to stop blood or puss or any manner of ungodly particulate flying in their nose and mouth. It is a thin veil of self protection and I have nothing but respect of those that put themselves in the presence of bacterial harm with just the simplest of PPE. In the operating room surgical staff wear those masks for the same purpose. Bacteria. First to stop a spurting vein or a pustule explosion from entering their orifices. Also to stop droplets from going from their mouths into an open wound. The human mouth has almost as much bacteria as a dog’s butt. Stopping a bit of spittle entering the human envelop is a rather important thing to do. These masks are quite effective at this. Droplets are of a size that surgical masks will stop them from travelling into the wound. Note that these are droplets not aerosolized particles.No serious medical person will say that the masks stop viruses. Not one. (Seems that there are many who are no longer serious. Or maybe they are so serious they have lost their minds.)

Viruses are too small to be stopped by these materials. You may argue that the viral particlescan be diverted by the pressure of the mask to escape to the sides of the face and therefore lessen the potential viral load hitting the open wound before the surgeon. But that would be silly. Any aerosolized virus would hang in the air and settle on everything in the room. These masks don’t stop viruses. Says it right on the box just in case the surgeon forgot their first year of medical school. The only solution to stop a surgeon from giving his virus to a patient is that the surgeon call in sick when feeling unwell. If these masks don’t stop viruses in a controlled sterile environment, they won’t do anything in the wider world either. But what about N95 masks? Let’s talk about them and then explain the real reason universal masks are a terrible idea.

There is a case for N95 masks. They appear to be effective in stopping viral particles to a degree. That amount has not been well tested, but I am going to give the mask brigade the benefit of the doubt on this one. An N95 mask that is properly fitted to the face and left alone during its wear may have an effect. (For the purposes of this post I will say it will have an effect because the reason universal masking is a bad idea has nothing to do with effectiveness). Now please note that the mask must be properly fitted. Buying them in bulk from your local shop won’t do. You need a proper PPE fitting and once you put that sucker on you cannot touch it. No drinks. Sorry. No smokes outside on your break. No food. None of that unless you are willing to discard the mask and get a new one. Remember we are wearing these things to protect everyone else from us as the wearer. So, the protocols for use are far more stringent. You must never break the seal of the mask when in use. Ever.

I will grant for the purposes of this exercise that N95 masks are effective if properly fitted and worn properly without tampering. And that leads me to the absolutely obvious reason they are a terrible idea.

Math.

We don’t discriminate right? Everyone should be treated equally, right? Every man woman and child have the right to health, right? And more importantly, according to our health overlords every man woman and child is a breeding ground for viral death. Therefore, every last one of us on the planet MUST wear a N95 mask. Every one of us. No exceptions. And every one of us must wear these masks properly. And these masks must be changed whenever contaminated. Period. That’s the science folks. So we need 7.6 billion masks a day to fully cover the planet. But let’s assume that some of the people need more than one because they have active jobs. It is only logical. 10 billion masks a day sounds like a nice round number. That’s what we need. 10 billion. The cost will be rather large. Even if we get the crappiest Chinese knock off company to make them for 50 cents a mask (quality I’m sure), that is still 5 billion dollars a day spent on masks. That will cost One trillion eight hundred and twenty-five billion dollars a year. A small price to pay to save a couple of lives right! I mean we can’t feed the hundreds of millions of people starving to death right now but let’s get them all a mask. Worth it! Logistically this may be a challenge. We will have to fully occupy the global supply chain to deliver masks every day to spec so let’s wave goodbye to all other imports. That probably includes food but if we all have masks at least we won’t die of a virus. And don’t worry about the environmental impact. We banned plastic straws, so I’m certain the massive increase in biohazardous materials made of…. Drum roll… petroleum won’t be an issue. Oh ya, didn’t you know that these masks are made with a large amount of petroleum products? Don’t worry the planet understands. The dinosaurs died and decomposed so we can discover the glory of… universal masking.

Folks, it’s not a bad idea. It is a ludicrous laughable idea that is blocking the path to real solutions. Do the math. Mask people in high impact places where the protocols can be followed. And move on.

Math.

A.F.

[saphicfreshman]

Spoilers tlou 2!!!

A lot of people seem to think that the entire message of the game is that violence is bad but I actually think that there is soo much more to it... (I'm gonna ramble about a lot of things and it's gonna be quite long, so sorry in advance. Also this is just my personal take on it. Please, don't feel offended if you see it differently)

1. As a player we feel incredible hatred towards Abby as a character after she kills Joel and we simply want to hurt her in the same way. We despise her, which is a natural human reaction. However, the point in this game is that it forces us to see the other perspective. It forces us to admit that maybe we weren't playing the heroes because in this game nobody is. This game revolves around humans and what they have to do to survive.

2. A lot of people complain that the game judges your actions or makes you feel guilty. It never explicitly judges anything. It simply shows you the different perspectives and that you feel guilty is on you, not on the game because through the game, we as the player realize that our actions had consequences and that we didn't just kill NPCs but humans who had friends and families and had their own personality. This makes the game so much more realistic.

3. If you don't play this game narrow-minded, you will see that Ellie and Abby have exactly the same motives. They both seek revenge for the same reason and even though Abby killed our beloved character Joel, we have to admit that Ellie and Tommy killing most of her friends and Joel killing her father the surgeon were pretty good reasons to justify her actions. We aren't supposed to love Abby after all she killed Joel but we are supposed to sympathize with her and at least I can say that it truly worked for me. At the beginning I only wanted revenge for Joel but on that beach scene I truly didn't want to see her die and I didn't want to fight against her.

4. I've heard many people say that the game forces you to dislike Ellie or to see Joel as the villain. I don't agree with this statement at all. The flashbacks we see of Joel and Ellie make Joel seem like such an amazing guy and make him even more loveable. We see that his relationship with Ellie grew even stronger until she found out that he had lied about the fireflies and we saw that Joel got softer in the years after the first game. He seemed to open up a bit more and I think that is due to his peaceful life in Jackson. I loved that development and I think that is also the reason why he told Abby's group his real name. He didn't see them as a threat since Jackson welcomed outsiders and constantly took new people in.

Concerning Ellie's storyline: Yes, she makes a lot of bad choices and I didn't want her to go down this path but I also understood why she did it. I don't hate her, if anything I feel sorry for her and want to protect her even more because of everything she's been through. Yes, she did threaten Lev but I can understand why... I played through this game in a bit more than two days and when it came to the beach scene I just felt exhausted and I wanted it to stop. When we as the player already feel like that think about the character. Ellie was wounded, has left her family and has done horrible things to get to Abby and now Abby refuses to fight her. Everything she had done would have been for nothing if she didn't fight Abby. So, I personally think that Ellie was desperate and that's the reason she threatened Lev but I also think that she wouldn't have killed him if it came down to it.

5. Now that I'm already talking about the ending, I want to add that I think that assumption that Ellie has lost everything at the end of the game is wrong. Yes, she has lost a lot but at the same time she found herself again. She stopped the cycle of hatred. If the game would have ended with Dina, JJ and her it would have been incredibly sweet but it wouldn't have been a character development. Because she was forced to let Abby go after Abby defeated Ellie and Dina. Ellie didn't have another choice in this moment but in order to let go of the hatred, she had to spare Abby out of her own volition. At the end she regained some sense of humanity and there's still hope for her. At least that is what I got from that ending. In my opinion the reasons why she spared Abby are these two things:

1) Through the flashback she saw Joel and realized that no matter what she did he was gone and nothing could bring him back. At the same time she probably remembered Joel for who he had been in the last few years and what he would have wanted her to do.

2) She thought about Lev who had nobody except for Abby which is such a strong parallel to Ellie and Joel. She didn't want to cause Lev the same pain and suffering by taking Abby away from him.

6. I saw many messages about how important these characters (Ellie and Joel) are to people and how they deserved better/were completely different characters in this game.

I started playing the first game when I was 14 (just like Ellie) but I was honestly a bit to scared to play through the game so I played different games until I came back to tlou a few years later and I found myself incredibly impressed with the story. I loved how despite the cruel and harsh world Ellie and Joel live in the game still made me feel happy and calm in many sections. It was such a joy to watch the relationship between Ellie and Joel develop throughout the game. Playing the dlc and finding out that Ellie is a gay woman, just as me, obviously made me love the character even more.

Nowadays, I'm 19 (again just as old as Ellie) and I have become more mature, I have to face bigger and different problems than with 14 and I see the world in a different way. (I know that was a lot of information about me, I'm sorry but I promise I try to get to a point)

In the second game Ellie isn't the innocent, sweet little girl anymore that we got to know in the first game. She has been through a lot, she has different problems now and simply life in general is a lot more complicated than with 14. A huge part of the first game was about Ellie's innocence and how she grew up in front of our eyes during the game. "It can't all be for nothing" is in my opinion such a powerful line that explains her character development in tlou 1 perfectly. In the second game she is an adult with complex and complicated relationships and a different world view. She stopped being the innocent child a long time ago and is now a grown woman who isn't dependent on Joel anymore. So, that their dynamics would change is obvious. I am sad at the tragic turn of events for Joel and Ellie in tlou part 2 but I believe that the characters are incredibly well written and just a good continuation of the first game.

7. I see many people being toxic and attacking the story saying that it is "shit", "horrible", and that a child could write a better one. And I have to say that the people who say this probably would be more content with a fanfic like story from a child that includes a nice, action adventure and a happy ending. A light-hearted story that's maybe a bit dark sometimes but overall pretty nice. But that's not what Neil had in mind, because it truly would be easy to write a story that would appease the masses and that would be a slightly different game than the first one but overall with the same atmosphere to it. I think that's what a lot of fans wanted and that's not what we got.

Instead we got an amazing story that was incredibly emotional, took turns and forced us out of our comfort zone. I know that I will never forget this gaming experience. Especially the moment where I had to attack Ellie as Abby and I truly thought I was going to kill her. I smashed the square button while at the same time repeatedly saying: "please don't die Ellie, please don't die". I've never had such a weird, conflicting experience and I have never felt so many different emotions while playing a game. If naughty dog and Neil Druckmann had given us the game we wanted, it would have been a good gameplay, amazing visuals and great music and sound choices but it would have been a story that would have tried to recreate the first one and therefore it would have been easily forgettable and not impactful.

This game just keeps on making me think about the characters, reflecting on their actions and makes me feel so many different emotions that I'm not even sure what to think. And this, at least for me, is a masterpiece.

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 24

Warning, if it hasn’t been obvious in the movies there is Nazi symbolism within the First Order. I will expand on this much more throughout the story. If this is something that bothers you, please just exit the story. The author does not condone any Nazi ideals, this is just for fictional uses only.

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 24: Think of the Children

“Before we begin, I have been informed by First Order High Command and the Supreme Leader this morning that per our discussion yesterday I have an update on the child restriction policy. Earth will become a two-child planet in 5 years' time. Any child conceived before that deadline will be grandfathered in. There may be exceptions to this case but otherwise, the Supreme Leader’s decision is final,” said Dr. Koroban.

Wait what? Kylo made this decision? In the beginning, it felt like he trusted you, with your own planet. But now you were beginning to see the truth, that the man behind the mask was the same man with the mask. If only he knew what repercussions were going to happen with this policy, he might then change his mind.

“So our discussion yesterday had no meaning. Do any of our discussions have meaning then? Are all of our decisions going to be overruled by the Supreme Leader,” asked the Surgeon General.

“The Supreme Leader has the final word on any decision we make. If he doesn’t like something he will change it. As is his right to do so. Need I remind you that speaking ill of the Supreme Leader is a crime. So beware of your thoughts and actions,” said General Pryde.

The three health officials shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They didn’t like being called out—no one did.

“Gentlemen,” said Dr. Koroban pointedly. “The purpose of this committee is to make decisions on Earth’s health. Our decisions go back to the Supreme Leader. If he likes something he will keep it, but if he doesn’t it is well within his right to change it. He takes all of our recommendations, now are we going to continue this discussion or is this meeting something you would like to end?”

All three of them looked to each other and then quickly to you before speaking quietly among themselves. “We would like to end these meetings as we see that Lady Ren may give the Supreme Leader any insight into what our planet may prefer.” And with that, the health officials threw you under a bus. They were leaving these important decisions for you. Someone who as of a few days ago was happily working in a small marketing firm, now you were making decisions for a whole planet.

“Very well then I suppose you are dismissed,” replied Dr. Koroban. The three health officials all got up and left. You just kept your gaze down on your folded hands in your lap. Secretly you hoped you became invisible.

Once they had left the room and the door was shut once more Dr. Dabrini spoke to you, “Lady Ren, you do not have to make any decisions you are not comfortable with. We can find others who will give us insight into how to best handle healthcare on your planet.”

You did not respond right away, the room was silent. When you did speak up there was hidden confidence in your tone, “But it is my planet. There are things that none of you understand. While I do not know galactic history like you all do, I do know enough of the history of my own planet to know that some of the First Order decisions will not go over well.”

“My lady, the reason the Supreme Leader changed the decision on the child policy is for the betterment of your planet. Your planet as we see now, if it continues growing as it has will be overpopulated very soon. In fact, many areas are. We are just trying to make sure your planet is healthy,” said General Pryde. “In fact much the First Order High Command wanted the child policy to go into effect immediately but the Supreme Leader wanted your planet to get used to First Order rule.”

How kind. Just enough time for everyone to be thoroughly brainwashed before it kicks in. Or just enough time for everyone to be thoroughly afraid to call to any action against First Order rule. You buried those thoughts deep within your mind. Even though Kylo was in Moscow, you didn’t know how his Force mind-reading thing worked and you did not want him getting even angrier with you.

“So shall we still go with the plan that we encourage birth control in women and before the law goes into effect, some encouragement to have fewer children. Other than that no one should object to STD screenings or anything else of the sort. I imagine there will be some people objecting to monogamy but then again they are against the vast majority of this planet anyways. Someone else should assist me with finding things on this in the Library of Congress,” you stated.

“Of course Lady Ren, I believe Petty Officer Ersela Tanau will be able to assist you in that endeavor,” said General Pryde. A young female officer stepped forward and bowed to you.

“I believe there is nothing else needed to be discussed today, but tonight I will come up with a list of anything else we may need to go over and send it out to you all,” said Dr. Koroban.

With that everyone left. You, Lieutenant Mitaka, Petty Officer Ersela Tanau, and General Pryde boarded the shuttle to take you to the library once again. Once there you, the general and petty officer all went your separate ways.

You combed the resources for what seemed like hours. You came up with some simple videos and posters. You knew they would most likely need to be approved by someone on the Supremacy so you were not as worried this time.

Good Eating Habits (1951)

Eating for Health (1954)

Vintage Army Nutrition for U.S. Soldiers

Weight Reduction Through Diet (1951)

"Cheers For Chubby" Overweight & Healthy Diet 1950s PSA

1950's - How To Eat Healthy - Diet & Nutrition

Feeling proud of your digging you turn to the lieutenant and ask if there is anywhere you could go for lunch. To which he just informed you that you could go anywhere and that it would be taken care of.

“Is there anything that you would like lieutenant,” you ask him.

“Ma’am we can go where ever you wish.”

“But I am asking you if there is anything you would like. Are there any earth foods you would like to try?”

The lieutenant paused at this question. If you could peer into his mind you swear you could see cogs turning. Or maybe some little men running around with papers in their hands panicking and running into each other. You could definitely tell this was not a question he knew how to answer.

“Ok. How about we go to an old fashioned American diner? If you are used to what the starships serve than this will be a change.”

“Yes, ma’am. Would you like to go to one now?”

“I think that would be most preferable,” you respond. You looked up a local diner on your phone. It was at this moment that you forgot that General Pryde would have to accompany you, for your ‘safety.’ Loading up into the shuttle was you, Petty Officer Tanau, Lieutenant Mitaka, General Pryde, and your golden guard Commander Pyre and his stormtroopers.

Rolling up to the diner you could tell that the people milling about outside and inside were shocked at what was happening. You had to admit it was probably a sight to see a relatively normal-looking person surrounded by loads of First Order personnel. Overall lunch was pretty uneventful other than the diner basically clearing out after your arrival. All three officers ordered burgers and fries for the first time, while the commander insisted that his ‘troops were ok and would eat at a later time.

You all head back to the shuttle that takes you back up to the Steadfast. The lieutenant informed you that your laptop was back from wherever he had sent it off to. You made it back to your chambers as you still had some time before your daily tutoring session with General Hux.

You received a message from Kylo, ‘I will not be back until tomorrow evening. Lieutenant Mitaka has been ordered to get you whatever you may need.’

You decided you still weren’t in the mood to talk to him after the events of last night and his lack of informing you of his decision this morning. The lieutenant informed you that the general was ready for your next lesson. You made your way down to the conference room once again, where the red-haired man was pacing about. He seemed to also be in a mood today.

“General? May I ask you a question that is slightly unrelated to the topic before we begin?”

“Yes,” he responded with annoyance in his voice.

“General Pryde told me that he was a founding member of the First Order. Why didn’t you mention this?”

“Ah, I see,” you could tell there was something about this that turned on a switch in his brain. “Pryde is just that, prideful. While he was good friends with my father and Rae Sloane one argues why is he still here and they are not. I can answer that simply. He may have been from their time, but he has not helped the First Order as they have. The sacrifices they made. Their achievements. He is, was apart of the Empire before the fall. He holds onto that, he can’t move past that. He is stuck in time with no realism for the future,” said the general with disgust for the subject.

“Is this why you are Allegiant General and he is not,” you ask.

“One of the reasons. The other is that my achievements in my shorter military career outweigh his. That and Supreme Leader Ren and I have a history. Maybe not the best history, but he can generally trust my opinions and work ethic. Also although Ren likes his grandfather he wants to achieve more than him, so comparisons here and there are fine but practically obsessing over their similarities has proven to be too much for the Supreme Leader.”

“His grandfather?”

“Yes the late and triumphant Lord Vader. That is something I believe that the Supreme Leader will discuss with you when he believes you are ready. For now, let us stick to the topics at hand.”

Oh great, you were sure that the discussion of his grandfather might go over as well as the discussion of his parents. But if the general was so sure that Kylo might actually speak of it, then you should trust him. After all, Kylo trusts him more than Pryde, so that has to mean something.

[liketolaugh-writes]

Threadbare and Torn

Author: liketolaugh Summary: Hank becomes a Jericho spy in the DPD ranks. Connor becomes his liaison. They... well, they don't exactly get along.

Hank wasn’t a reflective kinda guy. At least, not when he could help it. These days, that shit didn’t invite much of anything but pain, regret, frustration- no, it was easier to just go with his gut.

And Jeffrey. God, when was the last time he’d done a favor for Jeffrey? When was the last time Jeffrey had asked?

Hank squinted against the sun, a faint headache throbbing at his temples. Nothing like as bad as usual- he wanted his wits about him for this. His gaze swept cautiously over the café’s outdoor tables until a man in a beanie glanced up disinterestedly from his menu, brown eyes lingering on the breast of Hank’s jacket.

Jeffrey had given him the jacket – apparently it had a symbol sewn into it, nearly invisible to the human eye, but obvious to any android who knew to look for it. Hank didn’t pretend to understand how it worked, but apparently it did, because the next moment, the man signaled him, two fingers waving what Hank was certain was a perfect triangle.

Hank trudged over to him and plopped down in the seat across from the android, giving him an appraising look of his own. Stiff, straight posture, a beanie covering his LED, stained and nondescript clothing, no trace of expression on his face. No model Hank recognized, not that that meant much.

“How’s your father doing?” Hank said at last, not letting himself snort at the mandatory code. Eyes and ears everywhere, and all, with the FBI on the Jericho case. Still, he felt like he was in a spy movie. A corny one.

The android tilted his head slightly; Hank could almost feel himself being scanned. He clenched his jaw, meeting the android’s eyes just short of a glare, daring him to comment on Hank’s disheveled state.

“…Still living the life with his mistress,” the android said instead, so soft that Hank almost couldn’t hear him. His tone was perfectly even and measured, and subtly deferential. Hank hated it.

“Food here any good?” he jabbed lightly, glancing inside. The café didn’t have a ‘no androids’ sign, which was telling; they’d become more and more popular as tensions rose.

The android just shrugged, disinterested. “Want any?” he asked quietly, setting the menu down.

Hank considered saying yes, just to be an ass. Then he scoffed at himself and shook his head. “Too rabbit food for me. In the mood for something else? This was just a meet-up point.”

The android nodded shortly, hands dropping to his lap. “Let’s go.”

Hank’s first impression was that he was mechanical, contrasting harshly with the crying and terrified deviants Hank had seen too many times in his precinct’s cells. It grated on him, but, uncharacteristically, he bit his tongue. This wasn’t about the robot in front of him. It was about Jericho.

Sighing, Hank pushed himself up and jerked his head, indicating for the android to accompany him, before leading the way to his car. A few conspicuous seconds passed before Hank heard the scrape of the chair, and the android fell in half a step behind him. A glance back told Hank that he was scanning the crowd, pretty thoroughly disinterested in interacting with Hank.

But maybe it was just the location. Hank didn’t like letting people into his space, especially not someone who so immediately set his teeth on edge, but it was better than staying out in the open.

“Name’s Hank Anderson,” Hank grunted as soon as they were both in the car. He watched the android fiddle with the seatbelt for a moment before prompting, unable to keep an edge of irritation out of his voice, “And you? I sure hope you’re the Jericho contact or this is gonna get real awkward.”

The android nodded stiffly, leaving the seatbelt alone to look ahead, still straight-backed and perfect. “I’m Connor.”

That was apparently all he had to say about that. Hank exhaled and started the car, hit the radio, and got going, ignoring the way Connor glanced down at it with a reserved frown. If he couldn’t speak up, he didn’t get an opinion.

Hank’s first impression of the guy didn’t improve any on the way to his house. Connor stared straight ahead out the window, occasionally following something to the side, and made no attempt at conversation. His back stayed stiff, his posture perfect, and his hands folded neatly in his lap.

The pattern continued as they reached Hank’s house. Hank got out, and a few seconds passed before Connor followed. When he did, it was careful and deliberate, without any flourish and making as little noise as possible. Even shutting the door was a nearly silent process, and then he followed half a step behind Hank up the path to his house. Hank wanted to hit him just to see if he’d react.

Sumo greeted Hank at the door with a low boof and a snuffle, and Hank gave him a rough pat and an absentminded, “Good boy.”

Sumo boofed again, and then circled around to sniff at Connor, lazily curious.

Connor stiffened, eyes tracking Sumo with clear apprehension, and edged back as the dog came close. After a moment, he looked away and skirted around the dog without directly acknowledging him. Stepped around the pizza boxes on the ground and didn’t even disturb the dog food Hank had spilled last night that Sumo hadn’t eaten yet. Didn’t even touch the wall.

Instead, he just paused on the threshold of the living room and kitchen, clearly waiting for instructions. Looked like a mannequin.

Sumo huffed, unbothered, and loped off to flop onto his bed, but Hank scowled and slammed the door shut. Connor’s expression barely twitched. Hank leaned against the door, crossed his arms, and surveyed him.

“Thirium? Cards?” he asked, more a challenge than a real offer at this point. God, it was gonna be a long couple months. Just looking at Connor made him itch. “I can put the TV on in the background.”

Connor glanced at him, flat and disinterested. “…No, thank you.”

Shocker.

Hank grunted and kicked out one of the chairs at the kitchen table, throwing himself down with a scowl. Connor took that as a signal and sat down across from him, no noise, stiffly polite. Then he reached into his pocket and withdrew a holographic projector, setting it between them. With the press of a button, a map of Detroit sprang up between them.

“Straight to business, huh?” Hank said sardonically, something sick and bitter twisting in his stomach, and Connor nodded.

Hank would grant the kid one thing, he had some good ideas in his head. They had the start of a game plan sketched out after the better part of an hour, districts to target, shelters to capture, infrastructure to prioritize. Maximum effectiveness, minimum collateral.

Except the police. No mercy for them.

The only exception was Hank’s precinct, since Jeffrey had already secured an agreement with Jericho; his officers turned a blind eye to anything androids did, and Jericho steered around them. Fair enough, and good thinking on Jeffrey’s part. Small comfort all the same.

And a good mind Connor might have, but he was fucking exhausting to talk to. He seemed to speak as little as possible. He missed half of Hank’s expressions. Refused to directly contradict Hank even when he clearly disagreed.

Hank was sick of this already.

“What’s your plan if the military gets involved?” he asked, struggling to keep his mind in the game and off Connor’s painfully flat affect, so like the machine surgeon that-

“They shouldn’t,” Connor said shortly. After several minutes, he seemed to realize how painfully inadequate that was and continued, “They’re busy, or we would be dead already. The police and FBI have fewer resources. Should that change, we will certainly lose.”

Connor’s tone remained quiet and indifferent through his entire speech. He didn’t even take his eyes off the city plan, and his mouth was a flat, downturned line. Hank compared him again to the crying girl he’d seen self-destruct in one of the jail cells last year, and felt his rage grow.

“Doesn’t that bother you?” he snapped, voice rising a little.

Connor had the nerve to shrug. Hank felt sick.

He got up to turn music on in the background, and pretended not to hear when Connor asked him to turn it back off.

---

A week and a half later, Hank was faced with the grim consequences of his actions as his police radio burst with panicked chatter. He listened to them relay information back and forth, asking for backup, trying to outmaneuver their opponents, as if Jericho didn’t have easy access to even the police-only channels. He didn’t move from where his car was parked on a random streetside, far away from the chaos.

Neither, he knew, did anyone else from their precinct.

Over the course of six hours, the skirmish between Jericho and the local police force went from a standoff, to a shootout, and then an invasion, and finally a surrender. With that, the precinct the main Jericho base occupied was deviant territory.

Casualties on each side were pretty brutal. Hank wouldn’t know the exact Jericho numbers until Connor told him, but the police force took thirty-seven deaths and close to fifty injured.

All Hank’s fault, obviously, though from his grim look, Jeffrey was feeling it too. Still, he remembered the Tracis, terrified and angry and in love, the ones he’d let go before he’d ever gotten properly involved with this shit.

(Cole had loved androids. This was the first time in years that he’d done something he felt Cole would’ve been proud of him for. He couldn’t give up that easy.)

So he pushed on.

He and Connor had arranged to meet up a few days after the fight, and Connor, of course, arrived precisely on time, back straight, expression disaffected, and knocked on the door until Hank answered.

He offered Hank a cursory greeting, sat in the exact same place as last time, and gave Sumo an unreadable look when he boofed. Hank scowled, his foul temper heavy in his gut, and kicked the door shut. When he turned around, Connor was placing the projector dead center on the table and tapping it to activate.

“Thought we could play a round of cards or some shit before we got into it,” Hank said, not bothering to hide his irritation. Not because he wanted to spend any extra time with this programmed asshole, but he couldn’t bring himself to pretend he was eager to turn on his former fellows, and he hated Connor’s apathetic demeanor.

Case in point: Connor blinked at him, unamused and uninterested. The same beanie covered his head, the same sweater, same pants. “Why?”

Hank hated him.

He sat down, scowling at the hologram, which blinked at him mockingly. “Whatever. What’re we working with?”

Connor didn’t question it, lunching straight into the casualty numbers for Jericho and highlighting the weaknesses in the attack. He didn’t seem to care about the significance of any of what he was saying – like it was just a training exercise, like none of them were people to him.

In turn, Hank grudgingly relayed his end of things: police response details, the FBI’s conspicuous silence, announcements and reallocations from the interceding days. None of it reflected the stifled quiet of the station these days, the heavy tension, the silent resignations handed in by a few of the officers with each their own reasons – Miller, Reed, Wilson.

Connor listened silently and seamlessly incorporated the information into the next, revised plan, plotting out the steady destruction of the next precinct in line.

Finally, Hank couldn’t take it anymore. He slammed his hands on the table and leaned close, taking a sour pleasure out of seeing Connor go dead still. Sumo whined, and Hank felt only a hint of regret, quickly swallowed up, eyes on Connor.

“I knew those people,” Hank said lowly, not bothering to suppress the venom. “I fucking worked with them. Now, I knew what I was signing up for, but fuck, the least you can do is pretend you give a shit in front of me.”

His voice rose until he was almost, but not quite shouting, hot with rage. Connor didn’t look at him, but Hank could see the tension almost vibrating through his frame, a tightness around his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Connor said after a while, just on the edge of audible, stiff and insincere.

Hank scoffed. “You have to mean it for it to matter,” he sneered, bitterness and guilt and a visceral sort of revulsion churning up inside him.

Deviants were one thing, but god, he couldn’t stand machines.

Connor didn’t even try to look him in the face, rubbing his arm in mild discomfort. “I do.”

Hank took a breath, furious and conflicted and sick with it all.

“Get out,” he forced out, and Connor only hesitated for half a second before obeying, tucking the projector back into his pocket and leaving without another word. It didn’t make Hank any happier.

He wanted a drink.

---

Three months and several meetings later, Hank was at his wit’s end.

Jericho had taken half the city, and public opinion was radically polarized between those in support and those terrified and furious, those calling and protesting for a treaty and those breaking into Cyberlife stores just to tear shit up. Police morale was rock bottom, and the national government hadn’t lifted a finger to help; not that that was a bad thing, considering, but it was a pill to swallow.

And that was just in Detroit.

His mood was even worse than usual today, because Connor apparently couldn’t be assed to give the meeting a fraction of his valuable attention. His gaze wandered the room; his face had no expression at all, and he leaned back in his chair in the closest to a lazy posture Hank had seen from him. He hadn’t even acknowledged Sumo when the dog wandered up to nudge at him, snuffling.

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, and spoke even less than usual, instead humming along as Hank fucking carried the conversation. Like he had no stake in it. Like it didn’t even matter to him.

It pissed Hank the hell off. What was Connor here for, if he couldn’t be bothered to care? What was Hank doing here?

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Hank barked eventually, when Connor shrugged instead of telling Hank goddamn anything useful about Jericho’s supplies situation. Connor didn’t answer, looking somewhere in the direction of the bathroom door, and Hank’s voice rose. “Connor. Connor!” Connor’s gaze drifted to him, the android’s head cocking slightly, nose crinkling like it was more trouble than it was worth. Hank fumed. “What the hell is with you today?”

Connor blinked at him. Same beanie, same sweater, fingers playing with his sleeve. His gaze dropped to the projector.

“…I killed someone last time,” he said at last, almost too soft to hear.

Hank snapped.

“What does it fucking matter anyway?” he spat, thinking of voices that dropped off the radio and Jeffrey’s tired resignation and the bags deepening under Ben’s eyes. “It’s one of fucking hundreds anyway, isn’t it? But you don’t fucking care about that, you just- fucking sit there and figure out how to do it more efficiently like some kind of machine, and it’s fucking disgusting-!”

Hank was on his feet and shouting, and he didn’t even care; he was so furious his blood was roaring in his ears and he was almost shaking, staring at Connor’s stupid frozen tin-can face because machines never cared who lived or died-

And then Connor was on his feet too.

“Sh-shut up!” Connor snarled at him, and for the first time his voice was at a level Hank didn’t strain to hear, and he was scowling right back at Hank. “Y-you don’t under, understand anything! Y-y-you’ve never even tr-tried!”

Hank’s voice caught in his throat, whatever words he was planning on saying next drying up as his mind twisted up in confusion.

Since when did Connor stutter?

Connor ducked back, took a step back and a step forward, yanked on his shirt and shook out his hands and then yanked again, breathing quickly.

“I, I had to kill N-Nines again,” he continued, “b-because he won’t ask, ask me not to, I ask him to say it and he, he won’t, he does-doesn’t know how, and it’s m-m-my fault, I ran away and l-left him and now-now-now he’s the dev-deviant hunter and and…”

Connor shuddered and yanked on his shirt again. His head twitched to one side, and he took a deep, heaving breath, and he abruptly looked exactly like the deviants who melted down in the DPD interrogation rooms.

Hank couldn’t breathe. He felt like the floor had been yanked out from under him.

“And y-you have no i-idea what it’s like to be, to be a machine,” Connor continued relentlessly. Stepped back, stepped back, stepped forward, yanked. “To, to be nothing, and, and n-no one, you have- no f-fucking idea.” He took another quick, harsh breath, and without looking up, snapped, “Stop l-looking at me li-li-like th-that!”

Connor was breathing dangerously hard now, and maybe it was his imagination, but Hank thought he could see the red glare of his LED through the cotton beanie.

Hank’s mouth opened and closed, thrown so far off he wasn’t even sure he was on the same planet anymore. When he didn’t respond after a minute, Connor looked up, brown eyes dull and wild. A second later, he seemed to process what he’d just done, clapped a hand over his mouth, and stared at Hank.

Then he bolted, clumsy and frantic, and Hank made no move to stop him.

Fuck.

---

­The only surprise when he was contacted a few days later was that it was Markus himself who met with him, expression lined with stress and exhaustion; that, and that he was not nearly as confrontational as Hank would’ve assumed, under the circumstances.

He waited patiently for Hank to open the door, showed himself inside, glanced at Sumo with a flicker of a smile and sat himself on the couch. Then he looked at Hank, as bold and expectant as if this was his own home.

Hank sat down, feeling as sullen and defensive as a grumpy child.

“What happened?” Markus asked immediately, intense dual-toned eyes on Hank.

Hank scowled and crossed his arms uncomfortably. “It was just a damn argument,” he muttered. “Happens all the time. Don’t worry, I’m not some bitch-ass hypocrite who’d quit over this.”

Markus raised his eyebrows, looking unimpressed and almost amused by the attempt at deflection. “Please understand, Lieutenant, that when Connor returned yesterday he was on the verge of a meltdown. I’m not letting him back here until I feel the issue’s been resolved. So please: tell me what happened.”

Hank felt a stab of guilt and glanced away uncomfortably, watching Sumo pant on his bed. “Why don’t you ask him?” he grouched.

“I have,” Markus said patiently, “and I’ve already taken steps to resolve things on his end. I’d like your side of the story.” He paused, took a breath, and continued, a little kinder, “I’m not your enemy, Lieutenant. I assume you had your reasons for blowing up the way you did.”

Some of the tension eased out of Hank’s shoulders. “Why does Connor act so mechanical?”

There was a beat of silence.

“Everyone responds differently to deviancy,” Markus said, tone noticeably cooler but somehow still not angry. “Connor’s taken it particularly hard and is finding adjustment difficult. Can you explain what you mean?”

“He’s…” Hank groaned and reached up to rub his hand over his face, frustrated. “Blank. Won’t take his mind off the job for half a second, acts like nothing bothers him, can’t express an opinion to save his life. Gets on my nerves.”

It’s not natural, he wanted to say, but even he knew that would be a step too far.

“I see,” Markus sighed, and he actually leaned against the back of the couch a little, considering Hank tiredly. “Yes, that would explain a few things. He’s mentioned that he can’t seem to figure out what you expect from him.” Pause, while Hank tried to figure that out, and then Markus continued, “Connor spent the majority of his machine period in relative isolation. He has some social difficulties as a result. But he responds well to direct communication.”

Irritably, Hank amended his earlier thought. It wasn’t natural – except in survivors of extended neglect and abuse.

Fucking obviously. What was his police training good for if he couldn’t even identify the signs of long-term abuse when the dominos lined themselves the fuck up for him? Had he really let himself go that much?

“Why send him, then?” he asked, dropping his hand to curl it into a fist, leaning back against the couch, absently wishing he’d keep sinking until he sank right into the ground. Extenuating circumstances or no, Connor’s callousness was enough to make his teeth grind.

When he finally glanced over, Markus was frowning at him thoughtfully.

“As the former deviant hunter,” the android said carefully, studying him as he spoke, “Connor’s strategic programs are high and above anything the rest of us have. Sending someone else would be rather like having a talented amateur play a competitive chess game when you have a professional chessmaster available. I didn’t want to take any chances.”

That made sense – too much sense, damn it.

“Connor mentioned something about a deviant hunter too,” Hank muttered, still avoiding the core issue as he felt more and more stupid and selfish. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Markus looked first surprised, then frustrated, then gloomily resigned, shoulders slumping. He rubbed his knee, sighing.

“Of course,” he murmured. “I forgot that the matter didn’t receive much human publicity.” He cleared his throat and resettled himself, wincing as his legs shifted, and met Hank’s eyes gravely. “Cyberlife has been keeping a prototype whose sole purpose is to hunt down and kill deviant androids and put a permanent end to Jericho. For about a year and a half, that was Connor. These days, it’s an RK900, Conan. Connor calls him Nines.”

Shit. Shit. Motherfucker, every time he thought Cyberlife couldn’t get any worse- thought humans couldn’t get any worse-

Hank could see it all too clearly, too, in Connor’s numb apathy, and the cold efficiency of his ideas, and his obvious experience. For about half a second he considered holding it against him, and then he remembered his breakdown the other day.

You have no idea what it’s like to be a machine, Connor had said, stuttering and shattered and viciously angry. No, he couldn’t in good conscience blame Connor.

So instead Hank just felt frustrated and overwhelmed, every inch the stupid, bitter old man he knew Cole would have been crushed to see his father become. He needed a drink. He missed him.

“What happened?” Markus repeated.

Hank exhaled harshly, reached up to cover his eyes with his wrist, and finally, grudgingly, explained, “He just- it’s fucking stupid, okay? He was having an off-day or something, and I got pissed because he wasn’t even paying attention, and I lashed out.” He huffed again. “It’s just- this shit ain’t easy for me either. I knew it was coming, and all, and most of ‘em were bastards from the start, but I don’t have to enjoy having a hand in all… this. And he don’t make it any easier.”

Markus looked unexpectedly sympathetic, if still distinctly uncompromising.

“I’ll talk to him,” he promised, “but I recommend you do the same if you want to get any actual communication going. You still have a few more months of working together. It would be best if you could find a way to at least tolerate each other.” Then, unexpectedly, he gave Hank a stern look. “Don’t call him a machine again. I broke his programming myself, but only after he asked me to. He’s earned his personhood the same as the rest of us.”

Wearily, Hank gave in.

“Yeah,” he agreed resignedly. “Yeah, alright.”

---

Hank meant it, when he promised to give Connor another chance. He did.

But his mood darkened steadily as the next meeting time approached, a heavy sort of exhaustion falling over Hank’s shoulders. By the time the actual date rolled around, he was halfway through a bottle and had long since forgotten. Within a couple hours, he’d downed the whole thing, played a few rounds of Russian Roulette, and then passed out cold on the ground, dizzy and nauseous.

He woke up to fingers tapping gingerly at his numb face, groaned, opened his eyes to squint at Connor frowning at him, and groaned again.

“Not now,” he muttered petulantly, rolling over and away. “Not fucking now.”

Connor sighed down at him.

“I d-don’t know what I-I-I ex-expected,” he murmured, and then leaned down and hauled Hank up effortlessly, ducking under his arm to support him.

Hank groaned as the sudden motion turned his stomach and swatted weakly at Connor a couple times. “Get off me. Get the fuck off me!”

Connor ignored him. Fucker.

The android didn’t seem to have any trouble dragging him through the house, and Sumo was fast asleep like the little traitor he was, so Hank just closed his eyes and grumbled wordlessly, his brain too soaked in liquor to put up a real fight. Didn’t matter anyway, one way or another, the way the world was going.

He was dumped unceremoniously onto his bed, and Hank squinted up at Connor blearily. He was staring down at Hank with his brow pinched, head cocked.

“Confusion, vomiting, seizures, slow or irregular breathing, hypothermia…” Connor muttered, and then sighed.

And then, bafflingly, he grabbed Hank’s trash can and moved it closer to his bed. Hank blinked at it dumbly while Connor left, wondering what the fuck that was all about.

He was too drunk for this, he decided, and passed out again just as Connor returned with a glass of water.

Hank woke up again an indeterminate amount of time later, fell off the bed, vomited, and went back to sleep.

When he woke up in the morning, head pounding and mouth dry, he was back in bed, and he couldn’t smell any puke. He groaned, feeling his stomach rebel, and then spotted the glass of water, which was reason enough to push himself laboriously upright. He grabbed it and gulped it down without hesitation, and then stumbled out of his room in search of painkillers.

Another day in the life of Hank fucking Anderson, he thought sourly, and then he reached the living room and stopped.

Connor was curled up on the couch, just squirming to stare sleepily at Hank. His beanie was discarded somewhere behind him, and his LED was a steady blue at his temple, flicking to a spinning yellow as Hank watched.

Connor had stayed. Connor was scanning him. Connor frowned at him, pushed himself to his feet, and said, avoiding his gaze, “Y-y-you need f-food. S-s-sit down, I’ll m-make you some, something.”

Too befuddled and hungover to think of a response, Hank sat down at the table. Connor disappeared into the kitchen for several minutes, and Hank put his head down on the cool wood.

What the fuck.

Connor returned with a plate of four pieces of toast, perfectly browned, and set it in front of Hank. Then he retreated, seating himself on the floor by Sumo’s bed, staring at the sleeping dog.

At a loss, Hank ate, slowly and numbly, staring at Connor like he was seeing him for the first time. His sweater was patched and heavily stained and too big for him. His pants weren’t a lot better off. Both items looked soft and well-worn. He had what looked like an old Bluetooth headset on each ear, which was new. And as Hank watched, Connor hesitantly reached out a hand and pet Sumo gingerly. Within seconds, his whole body softened.

He looked. He looked like a person.

Hank reached down, and then realized with a start that he’d actually eaten all four pieces of bland-ass toast, and his stomach had actually settled a little. He stared blankly down for a few seconds, and then got up and stumbled into the kitchen, started a pot of coffee, and swallowed a couple painkillers dry. Connor didn’t say a word the whole time.

Hank swiped his fresh mug of coffee and sat back down, and it wasn’t until he’d finished half of it that he asked tiredly, “What are you doing here?”

The question clearly stumped Connor, and he pulled his hand back to his chest without looking up.

“I was con-concerned that you w-w-would suf-suffocate or, or seize over, overnight,” Connor said at last, quiet again and sounding oddly defeated. And what was with the stutter?

Either way, Hank snorted bitterly.

“I don’t need your crisis protocols,” he sneered, well familiar with them after all this time. And he didn’t need anyone’s fucking pity, or their mental health training or leftover programmed ‘compassion’.

Unexpectedly, though, Connor gave him a hard look back.

“I’m p-programmed for, for in-inves-investigation and m-murder, Lieutenant,” he said, clipped and terse. “I don’t, don’t have c-crisis protocols.”

It was Hank’s turn to be stumped. He squinted at Connor, trying to comprehend him through his aching head. “Then what are you getting outta this? Fuck knows you don’t have any reason to give a shit about me.”

Hank just wasn’t worth giving a shit about, and he and Connor had clashed from day one. There was no reason for Connor to stick around for his drunk ass.

“I d-d-don’t kn-know,” Connor said, unwittingly echoing Hank’s thoughts.

“Oh, it all makes sense now,” Hank said sarcastically, familiar and easy irritation flashing through him. And that fucking stutter-

Connor sighed, pulled his knees to his chest, and repeated insistently, “I don’t kn-know. We don’t get, get, get al-along. We, we y-yelled at each, each other last w-week. But I was, was worried.”

Connor paused. Hank finished his coffee to avoid looking at him, suddenly uncomfortable with how vulnerable he looked. He looked young. Hell, he probably was young.

“I’m, I’m sorry for yell, yelling,” Connor said after a bit. “I d-didn’t m-mean to, to get upset.”

Hank believed that in a heartbeat. He grunted, still guarded and reluctant to trust this sudden about-face of behavior, and went to go flop on the couch.

“Where did those fucking headphone things come from?” he mumbled out of nowhere, leaning heavily on the arm of the couch and frowning at Connor.

Connor looked uncomfortable again, tugging gently at his sleeves.

“They’re n-noise-can-canceling,” he said, not looking at Hank. “M-Markus got them, got them for m-me. B-because I’m sense, sensitive to s-sound, and you can be kind of, kind of l-loud.”

Hank snorted ungracefully. “Uh huh. Is that all you two talked about?”

Connor shrugged. “He said I was, was t-trying too hard, and that was wh-why you dis-disliked me. I’m, I’m t-trying to do, do b-better.” He hesitated, not look at Hank. “Am I, am I doing better?”

“Jesus Christ,” Hank muttered, and threw an arm over his face. “Why do you even care what I think of you?”

“I don’t know,” Connor said unhappily, curled up on the ground.

Hank sighed. Let himself notice how much more Connor was talking than usual, his voice warping and stammering awkwardly instead of stiffly controlled. The small blips of annoyance he’d let slip, and uncertainty, and the admission of weakness.

He thought about Connor staying overnight just to look after his sorry ass. When was the last time someone had done that? It had to have been years.

“Yeah,” he said at last. “Yeah, you’re doing better.”

[transpoettryinghisbest]

Mission Complete 2

(Set three years after the first one. AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Tag" is my name for the main character. It's short for protagonist.)

The air vent fell to the ground with a loud clatter, and Monty gave a frustrated sigh.

“Do you mind?” he declared, not looking up from his comic book.

Carla emerged from behind where the vent had been, hopping down onto the ground after it. “Monty? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Come on, you know me. I've almost finished the map of this place.” It wasn't a physical map, more of a series of memorised routes for getting around the school. She'd had one for every school she'd been to before and this one was no exception. “So…?”

“Well I was trying to read my comic book.”

She peered over his shoulder out of curiosity. “Oh yeah? It any good?”

Monty sighed again and pulled another comic book out of the pocket on the back of his wheelchair and tossed it to Carla, all without looking up. “That's the first in the series. You can borrow it if it'll shut you up.”

But before Carla could offer a word of appreciation, there was a thump as the door slammed open and Carla quickly threw the comic away from her - she'd sooner be found dead than seen reading that nerdy crap.

“Monty!” It was Tag.

“What now? Can everyone just leave me in peac-”

“It's your sister.”

This finally drew his attention. “Penny?”

Tag was accompanied by Buggs, who had Penny slung over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

“What happened?” Monty demanded.

“I don't know, we were talking and she just collapsed in a bunch of pain. She wouldn't tell me anything, just kept saying 'get Monty, get Monty'.”

Buggs gently laid her down on the table. Her eyes were screwed shut, her teeth gritted and every muscle in her body was tensed as she writhed around slightly making pained noises.

“Penny, if you can hear me, tell me what's wrong.”

“...Monty?”

“I'm right here. Talk to me.”

“Help. It hurts…”

“Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

Monty looked from Tag to Buggs in the hopes of finding any new information that may help him, but Buggs just just threw up his hands.

“Hey, don't look at me, I'm just the delivery boy,” he said. “The kid couldn't exactly carry her himself.” Tag thanked him and he waved his hands dismissively “Nah, no worries.”

“So can you fix her, Monty?” Carla asked.

“I don't even know what's wrong with her! How am I supposed to…”

He cut himself off. He wouldn't let Penny get scared thinking he couldn't help her. Monty would just have to figure it out. Penny was in the foetal position with one arm across her stomach and the other clutching the back of her neck. She wasn't capable of speaking very much, though she could communicate on a very simple level.

“Did it happen gradually or instantly?” Monty asked.

“Instantly,” Tag replied. “Almost. After a few seconds she was just…” He mimed her lying on the ground.

Monty had a suspicion of what it might be, but there was a drawback.

He pulled the others aside so that they were out of Penny's earshot. “I can't operate on her like this, she needs anaesthetic.”

“She needs what?”

“Sleeping gas. She can't be conscious during the operation or else…a number of things could happen.”

“What, you don't have that?” Buggs said. “I thought you were the guy who had everything. Always prepared.”

“I'm not a doctor, I'm a mechanic. I'm not used to working on things that…can move and talk and stuff.”

“Well you can't do nothing!” Carla declared.

“What's going on?” Penny called from across the room. “Monty?”

As he wheeled himself back over to the table, he could hide his worries from her but couldn't disguise the concerned expression on his face.

“We'll have to get a teacher to-”

“No.” Tag was cut off by Monty, who wouldn't even entertain that idea.

Because the teacher would have to send Penny to a hospital where dozens of doctors and surgeons would try to fix the little cyborg girl. Word could be out about her secret to the masses and before they knew it, she'd be known worldwide. 'The freaky robot girl'. She'd never be able to live like that.

And what if the doctors couldn't understand how her body worked? What if their lack of expertise in mechanics just damaged her more as they tried to fix her?

“She's my sister. I can fix her,” Monty said, simply.

None dared to disagree with him.

“Buggs, keep watch at the door,” Monty instructed. “If anyone shows up, get rid of them.”

“Sure, Boss.”

“I guess we'll have to hold her down while you operate?” Tag suggested.

“That won't work, it'll only freak her out more,” Monty replied. “She needs to be properly sedated or the whole process could get messed up.”

Carla sighed. “Look, there's an obvious easy solution to this.”

“Obviously there isn't or I would've realised it by now.”

“Well maybe you're not as smart as you think you are.”

Monty suppressed an angry outburst and instead glared at her. “Fine!” he almost yelled. “If you have a quick fix then use it.”

Penny opened her eyes slightly to see what was going on and saw Carla coming towards her.

“Carla? Why is everyone arguing?”

“It's fine, don't worry. Your brother's just being a pain.”

“But he can fix you. And he will,” Tag clarified.

“Of course I will.”

“So just stay still for a second,” Carla said, taking Penny's head in both hands. “And before you know it, you'll be all fixed up.”

With one swift motion Carla slammed Penny's head into the desk. She didn't make a sound, her eyes simply flickering as she fell unconscious, but Monty and Tag both cried out in surprise.

“Carla what the hell did you do?”

“You needed her unconscious. She's unconscious. You're welcome.”

“You could've given her brain damage!”

“Oh please. She'll be fine.”

“I'll kill you for that!”

“Uh, Monty?” Tag said, cautiously.

“What?”

“We might be against the clock, here. If you need to operate before Penny wakes up, I mean.”

Realisation set in and melted Monty's rage to a mellow annoyance.

“I won't let anyone out so you can still beat her up when you're done with Penny,” Buggs called from the other side of the room, blocking the doorway.

“Charming,” Carla commented. “I'm sticking around anyway. You never know when you're actually going to need me.”

Monty exhaled angrily and without another word, moved back to Penny and inspected her. Once he was assured that her head was fine, he lifted her shirt up to the bottom of her ribs and found the source of the problem, just as he'd suspected. He sucked in air through his teeth in a gesture of uncomfortable sympathy.

“What is it?” Tag asked.

He tried to look, but Monty gestured for him to stay where he was. “You might not want to look.”

“Do you know what's wrong with her?”

“She's had a growth spurt.”

Carla made a confused face. “That's it? She sounded like she was dying!”

“Yeah,” Tag put in. “Growing pains can hurt but not that much.”

“Well your bodies aren't made of metal,” Monty pointed out. “When the biological parts of her grow, the metal parts don't. So they dig into the skin.”

“And that's what caused all of that pain?”

“Yes.”

“Can you fix her?”

“You know I can. I just need…” He reached into the pocket on the back of his wheelchair and brought out a file. “Here we go.”

The next hour or so, Monty spent peeling back parts of Penny's skin and filing the metal plates until they fitted neatly once again. It wasn't the most enjoyable job, but Monty never complained. He'd do anything for his sister.

It was weird to think that it'd been only three years since the last time he'd done something like this. Penny had needed tweaks and updates in the past, but the only real big operation Monty had done on her was when Tag and the twins had begged him to bring her back to life. Her mother had blown her head off to get her out of the way, insisting that she'd fix her later. But 'later' never came as Penny's mother died the same day, and Monty was left in charge of bringing Penny back. Shortly after that, Penny was adopted into Monty's family, and while having an android for a sister was…interesting in more ways than one, Monty had grown to really care about her - more than anyone had seen him care about anyone else. And Penny adored her brother. The one who'd saved her. He knew he could do so again.

A little while later, Penny began to stir as she awakened. She made a mumbling sound, then her eyes flickered open.

“Penny, don't move,” Monty insisted. “I'm not finished and I need you to be very still.”

“Okay,” she mumbled.

Monty called Tag over.

“What, he's your new assistant now?” Carla said. “Have I been downgraded?”

“Yes.”

She rolled her eyes. “I'm heartbroken.”

Monty ignored her. “Kid, can you hold her down? Gently. Just make sure she doesn't move.”

Penny had been rolled over onto one side, so Tag held her in place by her shoulder while Monty continued to work on the panel located on the back of her neck. Penny put up no resistance to any of this - she trusted them and was still dazed from being knocked out.

“Did Carla hit my head into the desk?” she mumbled, eyes shut and trying to stay as still as possible.

“Don't worry about it,” Monty replied, simply. “I'm almost done and then everything will be fine. It'll be over.”

He flipped the panel shut and she gave an inhuman jolt as if struck by a (very small) lightning bolt. Then Monty backed off and let Penny sit up by herself.

“How do you feel?”

“Kind of sore.” She instinctively rubbed the parts of her body that'd been operated on. “But better. Am I all fixed now?”

“For the time being. I may have to do this again in future whenever your next growth spurt is. We'll see.”

“Until then, you'll have to find something that'll knock her out if needed,” Tag said.

“I'll see if Felix has anything semi-legal I can use.”

“Thank you, Monty,” Penny said. “You've saved me again.”

“Don't get all sentimental on me now, it's all in a day's work.”

“Nice,” Carla declared, sarcastically. “Maybe one day he'll admit that he cares about you, Penny. I'm not going to hold my breath.”

She got up and headed towards the door.

“I'm glad things worked out okay,” Buggs clarified. Ever since Penny had left behind her life of being the principle's rat and became one of them, Buggs left his hard feelings for her behind as well. “Let me know if you ever need my help with anything again.”

“And let me know if you need my help,” Carla put in. “So that I can reject you.”

“I'll bear that in mind,” Monty declared.

The bell rang and life resumed back to normal.

[clouds-of-wings]

I wrote this like 3 weeks ago and actually got over it since but @tardigradedeathposture wanted to read it, so here’s the lightly edited rant.

---

I was going to not write about how crap I thought the Witcher TV show was but it keeps bugging me and whatever here’s my rant.

So as my followers might know, I played the games (yes even the first) and mostly liked them, especially the second, which I think is a great game and actually better than the third, which I still enjoyed. The first, well, had its moments. I’ve read the first book about 5 years ago after playing the second game for the second time but couldn’t really get into it, I watched the old Polish TV adaptation and found it sort of quaint but nothing special. So of course I was skeptical of the prospect of a TV show but also sort of interested.

Well good things first. I thought Henry Cavill played Geralt pretty well actually. People hated him when he was first introduced but I think most were won over by his performance. He isn’t quite like the Geralt I know, but that might be due to the script. Second good thing, Jaskier isn’t quite as incredibly annoying as he is in the games, though still annoying. But at least he isn’t a pimp here. Third good thing, Chireadan, because Elves <3

But apart from these aspects, I think I haven’t watched such a stupid show since Once upon a time (which was so terrible that it caused my gallbladder to ache non-stop, so I had to stop after the first half of season 1. Witcher didn’t do that, so I guess it wasn’t quite as bad as OUAT). I know the series follows the story laid out in the books, and actually my problem isn’t even what happens, but how it’s presented, in that story and characterization manage to be tepid and tropey and also illogical and self-contradictory.

Take Yennefer for example, because her character annoyed me the most.

Now I’m not a fan of her in the third game either but at least she has a consistent (terrible) personality and a will of her own there. I read that she’s a better character in the books, so okay. Maybe they butchered her on the show. I honestly don’t remember the book I read very well anymore, as I said, I couldn’t get into it.

She is explicitly said and shown to do very badly during her mage training and to be bad at court politics, she’s barely even shown doing magic before the last episode, but she gets to “ascend”, whatever that means, while the other (far more deserving?) students get turned into eels. Later her teacher says she was the best student she’d ever had (?? when? where?) and gives her trust and responsibility for zero reason and Yennefer goes on to save the day, sort of.

She gets, in one of the most unrealistic scenes on the show, cosmetic surgery that involves an extensive spinal operation and the removal of her uterus WITHOUT NARCOTICS and half an hour later she wows everyone at the prom ball. IIRC, in the books and the games the sorceresses and sorcerers alter their appearance using, uh, magic instead of having some guy rip out their spine. And the sorceresses explicitly make themselves beautiful because “that’s what their clients expect”, just like the sorcerers make themselves appear as “venerable” old men - because it’s the pre-conception their clients have. It’s subversive, John-Karen, because the mages somewhat cynically show themselves to be genre-savvy by exploiting the... why am I explaining this. It’s obvious to everyone except the idiots who wrote the show. The point is, it’s not about their personal empowerment, but they could have done something with Yennefer’s “ugly to beautiful” transformation and they didn’t, so that sucks too.

From the whole way she’s presented, it becomes clear that she would be a terrible mother (”happy childhoods make for boring conversation”), yet we’re supposed to feel sympathy for her quest for fertility. And she’s constantly bitter about her lack of it - when the surgeon told her very clearly that she’d be losing her fertility as a side-effect of the operation and she explicitly agreed to it. This wasn’t something that was forced upon her yet she acts like it was.

Just like in the game, she has zero concern for other people’s wishes or boundaries. I mean she cast magic upon a bunch of people and made them sexually assault each other, and the show just frames it as “sexy lady hosts an orgy”. Then she accuses Geralt of not paying attention to other people’s boundaries because he made a wish she doesn’t even know the specifics of (lol).

Yennefer is a pretty terrible person, which would be fine in terms of character, if she were actually presented as terrible. Yennefer actually has pretty exactly the personality of Cersei Lannister, but Cersei was intentionally portrayed as vicious, power-hungry, dishonest and irrational. We weren’t supposed to see her as a good person and that made her a great character. Watching Cersei was fun and interesting. Watching Yennefer is grating because in any sane universe, a woman like that would not be the hero. That’s also why I think it’s absolutely false to call TW “the new GoT”. TW is worse than even late seasons GoT.

However, the show loves her so much that it randomly gives her super-powers whenever it suits. In the fight in front of the dragon cave, she’s as good with a sword as Geralt, even though she has no training and no muscles and he’s literally been mutated to become a better fighter. In the last episode, she easily deters the attack by Nilfgaard and then destroys their camp (??) with magic when up until then she was only ever shown to be very bad at magic. (Unleash *~the chaos inside you~* god who wrote that script?)

But in the end, almost her whole story is determined by the effect she has on men. Despite all her qualities that we’re supposed to blindly believe she has, it’s her looks and the fact that some men like her constant pointless insults that determines what happens to her. The archeologist guy in the beginning is the only one who stops her from totally failing at mage training. The king she wows with her good looks and her early 21st century dress becomes her employer. Geralt and the Elf guy falling for her. The knight guy she manipulates into going to dragon mountain with her. Her only skill that she is somewhat consistently proven to actually possess is the ability to charm and seduce men with her beauty and her sparkling personality.

Unfortunately, this characterization is somewhat common among “strong female characters”. All the important female characters on American Gods are that way as well. Wonder Woman is (in the film, I haven’t read the comics) close to it as well. Random pointless superpowers, but her story is actually determines by everyone being head over heels for her because she’s pretty. I don’t really know why this counts as “feminist”, but for the media industry apparently it does. I think it’s rather the opposite.

But, god, Yennefer wasn’t the only terrible character. I also hated the way they portrayed what were apparently supposed to be Scoia’tael adjacent Elves in the first episode. Can you imagine Iorveth or Yaevinn make common cause with those planless caricatures? I absolutely love the clearheadedness and ruthlessness of the Scoia’tael in the games. They rebel against human oppression with the decisiveness of people with nothing left to lose. The Elves are portrayed as a mentally somewhat superior race who see themselves as the rightful owners of the land and are absolutely furious at humans using brute force to disinherit them. I love the absolute lack of moral high ground and of “virtuous victimhood”. I love the elitism turned to bitterness. I love the way they frame things like telling Elvish legends as acts of resistance (which is something that has plenty of real-life parallels). I love (since it’s fictional and all) the vicious treatment of human civilians, since, you know, from the Elves’ perspectives there are no civilians among the humans. In the games, you’re clearly made to understand that both the Scoia’tael and their opponents have committed terrible acts, and then, because this is war, you’re expected to pick a side anyway. Which was both easy and fun for me as a huge Elf stan in general, but I love that it’s not supposed to be an easy choice.

So I’m just talking about a short scene in the first or second episode, because that was the only time we see Elves who have Elf-specific problems, but I just hated that scene, because it steps into exactly the tropes that the games avoided. They complain, act irrationally and are portrayed as helpless, morally pure victims who won’t actually do anything that will do more than just slightly inconvenience humans. Toothless! Exactly as Hollywood would like oppressed peoples to be, righteous in their suffering, maybe stealing some bread but that’s all they will do.

Another thing that really bothered me was how unpolished it was. Hahaha! Terrible pun alert. They took everything Polish out of the story, see what I did there? I would have loved to see those houses with the flowers painted on them for example that are based on a real Polish village. What we got was just a bland Medieval(TM) world that could be anywhere and had no discernible features. It also obliterated the charm of the costume design. I found myself longing even for King Henselt’s unbelievably stupid belt because at least it had some character. And the weird and awesome creature design as well. None of it was on the show. Can you imagine that in a million years creatures like the three Crones from TW3 would show up on the show? Of course not, because a female character who won’t give the viewer a boner is obviously not worth showing.

And I don’t even understand how they managed to include Geralt being aware of his outsider status and thinking about it and to somehow make it boring anyway. But I’m really tired of writing and thinking about this now, so this is the end of my rant about like... half the things that annoyed me about the show.

[tellywoodtrash]

Sanjivani - Weeks 7 + 8

Overall Plot

Sid and Ishani are about 10 minutes away from hardcore Love. And literally every single person knows and is rooting for it (including the security guards at Sanjivani/Ishani’s apartment complex!!!!!), except the two idiots themselves. Shashank is still dealing with the fallout of the thing with Juhi and the admin issues stemming from their unresolved issues, but small mercies, his relationship with Anjali seems to be looking up. Nurse Philo's daughter Jessica has been admitted mere days before her wedding and found to have a terminal illness and it's heartbreaking as fuck.

The Medical Stuff

Lol, does Ishani's "sickness" count? She's pretty convinced that she's dying of something serious, the way she was charting her symptoms and kept getting diagnostic test after diagnostic test, so I think it should. Glad she's finally gotten a diagnosis and the prognosis looks promising! Other than that, Nandini got operated on successfully by the Shashank-Juhi team, and the only active case we have is Jessica's Stage IV cancer. But I think that's going to focus more on the emotional side of things (getting her the dream wedding she wants), since it's at such an advanced stage that it wouldn't respond to treatment anyway.

The Acting

Thank the lord above, they have started giving Surbhi comedy to do, which is where she really shines as an actor. Namit is most excellent at heart eyes, and his crying has improved from the first few weeks; dialogue delivery still needs to be more polished though. Jason and Kunal are being used effectively by giving them hilarious, snarky scenes while they drill some sense into Ishani/Sid. Robin is still pretty much in the background other than to pop up and deliver the occasional wisecrack. Very sad to see Rashmi go, she'd really won my heart as Asha. The seniors got to ease up on the angsty scenes these weeks and I'm grateful for that; it's nice to see them loosen up a bit and smile and joke around. Special mention to Vedika Bhandari as Jessica, who's just ridiculously adorable and sooooooo likable, that I already am having trouble at the thought of letting her character go.

The Characters

Sid: MY DUDES, I DID NOT EXPECT TO FALL THIS HARD FOR SIDDHANT FUCKING MATHUR, BUT WELP, HERE WE ARE. I honestly cannot believe that this boy exists on Tellywood. Where to even start with him in these two weeks? How much younger than his years he seems when he was imploring his mom to stay to meet Shashank; his heart eyes when he wakes up to see Ishani first thing next morning (after waiting to see her the whole night!!!); his bashfulness at all the love he's getting from the whole hospital staff; his good-natured humoring of Ishani's weird behaviour... He's just so unassuming and Soft. I can't really recall seeing this lovable a male lead in tellywood in forever (all I can think of is Hussain K. characters in the early 2000s, in Krishna Arjun and Kumkum and all.) But by no means is Sid a pushover who tolerates any kind of BS. He rightfully rips Rishabh to shreds when he tries to discredit his relationship with Ishani, and understandably calls Ishani out on her nonsense when she's evading her duties, but in a decent way. There is some against-the-wall-caging (because Tellywood), but in a non-threatening manner; he maintains an appropriate distance, does not touch her, and while he does talk in a raised voice due to frustration, never does it veer into yelling that feels dangerous, and he repeatedly asks her if he said or did anything that's making her uncomfortable to be around him. I found it a little strange that he was so vehemently in denial of his feelings for Ishani in last week's episodes, because he seemed to readily accept after his conversation with Guddu Mama (“Halwa banaa ke leke jaaoon? Usko achcha lagega?" with the most hopeful smile; calling Ishani a "bohut hi pyaari si princess" to her face and specifying that he specifically made the halwa for her "pyaaaaar se", being open to the idea of marrying Ishani when Nurse Philo/Jessica jokingly suggest it....) but I guess it would be pretty incongruous for him to instantly fall hard for Ishani AND recognize it, with his past as a "player". So I like that they brought in one of his flings to contrast how different his feelings for Ishani are compared to the other girls he's dated; and subsequently how he's processing his many emotions about the situation. Most of all, I love that his feelings for Ishani don't hamper him from doing his job right; instead they just make him more sensitive to understanding her and making her feel good in any capacity that he can. He came all the way over to her house to apologize for making her cry, AND MADE HER PARATHAS!!!!!!! He slept over, but respectfully all scooched up on her tiny couch! What a goddamn Good Boi. Also, him crying over Jessica's diagnosis? Heart-fucking-breaking. We should all be so lucky to find a doctor who cares about his patients THIS much.

Ishani (or lol as Guddu Mama calls her, "Pareshaani"): I really was expecting the absolute worst with this "Ishani has Loveria" track. And it did not start out well; almost 3 whole episodes were just her puerile lovesick imagination waale music videos and that goddamn CGI titli and I was just like jfc whyyyyyyyyyy. BUT THEN!!!!!!! They finally started showing us the funny side of Ishani, and it's succeeded in making the character lovably kooky, instead of just unpleasant to be around. Her panic attack in the bathroom where she legit thinks she's having a stroke and tries to literally shake off the crush, making all the first year residents repeatedly do ECGs on her, her awkwardness around Sid, the rant where she bemoans falling in love with Sid of all people, her child-like crying to Asha when Sid finally gives her a dressing down for acting idiotic ("Mujhe ITNA daanta! ITNAAAA! Aur unprofessional bhi bola! *violently stabbing finger in the air* UNPROFESSIONAL!!!!!!!!"); all of it was just hilarious as fuck. We're finally seeing the endearing side of Ishani's addled personality. I'm also very glad she got the much-required wakeup call from Sid/Asha, that she's being very unprofessional by running away from her duties, and hopefully from here on, she'll be learn to focus on her job, even with Sid's distracting presence. She's also made quite a bit of progress when it comes to her germophobia; but realistically: it's only with Sid (and Asha) - the two people she's really close to; she's still seen being touch-averse with the rest, but slowly getting better; letting children touch her, offering to shake hands with Jessica and Jignesh, etc.

Asha & Aman: I'm super bummed that Rashmi is being replaced as Asha, because she was honestly so good in the role; cheerful and hilarious in most of her scenes, gentle and sensitive with Ishani, helping her out as much as she can with this inconvenient crush... It's not an easy role, with the accent and all. I hope this new actress is as competent as Rashmi, who always highlighted the humour but without making the accent the punchline; it was always the things she said and how she chooses to word it. It's an important distinction, to not make the regional background into a caricature.

Aman is Aman as usual, lol; vicariously getting kicks thanks to the shenanigans of everyone around. Also, to my surprise, Aman and Asha live together! They offer up their place for a party for Sid; when Ishani freaks out that the cake he ordered isn't Sid's favt. flavour, Aman just shrugs "Meri Asha ko butterscotch pasand hai." I still don't really know what his equation with Asha is, but whatever it is, I love it. Asha's a self-sufficient girl, but it's obvious that Aman feels really protective of her and wants to see her happy always. I really hope the new actress maintains this ambiguous chemistry with Robin too, till the writers decide what direction they wanna take this relationship in.

Dialogue of the Week: Asha [walking in on Ishani holding a sleeping Sid's hand]: Abbe! Humaare saamne toh badi "garma"phobic bani ghoomti hai, ab dekho Dr. Sid ke saath kaise touchy-wouchy ho rahi hai!!!!!!!!!!!

Rishabh: Fucking asshole. He Tried, but he's no match for the razor sharp wit of Sid, or Asha's jugaadu skills to relieve an overworked Ishani. Chal dafa ho, be! Manhoos kahinka.

Neil: He's really really enjoying Sid and Ishani's crushes on each other, taking the mick out of both of them at any given opportunity. I truly lmao-ed when he was seriously examining Ishani for an illness on her insistence and then eye-rollingly dismisses her with "Kuch nahi hua hai tumhe." Cutest snark bean.

Rahil: MY ACTUAL FAVE. Lmao, if Ishani’s got her little purple titli, then Rahil is Sid’s grownass plaid-shirt-wearing TITLA, who appears outta nowhere to serve up piping hot sass at his confused dumbassery. His acerbic, plain-speak snark seems to be the only language Sid understands (as opposed to the first years' gleeful teasing, or the good-natured ribbing of elders like Shashank and Philo and Guddu Mama), and him having to exasperatedly explain things to his boss-who-is-also-his-bff is just hilarious. I relish every single scene he appears in to the max! Also props to him for giving us the gem "same level ke ajeeb" as the OTP tag for SidIsha!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shashank: A much better fortnight for Dr. Shashank! Two of his idiot babies are very obviously in love (that scene of Ishani showing him her reports and describing the butterfly through pantomime though, lmao) and now his relationship with Anjali is defrosting (the exchange about the surgeon she was interested in and how he wants grandkids from her??? The cutest!!!!) Things still remain frosty with Juhi though, and I don't understand why he won't just address the issue and clarify things in a straightforward manner, instead of dragging it out like this and making it awkward with his COS/mentee. Anyway, good on him for getting that win on Vardhan, but I feel like he needs to stop being so damn stubborn on his issues without giving reasons. It’s not helping matters around here, personally or professionally.

Juhi: Literally the classiest female professional on TV??????? She hasn't stopped holding Shashank accountable for how he sabotaged her career, but I love that she has sorted it out enough to work with him, but also engages in minor acts of pettiness like gleefully scraping his car with hers, cheekily grinning and apologizing saying she needed to get out some of the angst before they operated on a patient together. For what it's worth, I was fully on her side during the argument with Shashank about the machines for the hospital; it sounded like a good deal, but of course, she should have had the foresight to know Vardhan would try to do some kinda fuckery. She’s right in not really trusting Shashank anymore, but needs to be a little more prudent with how she proceeds while making decisions for Sanjivani. In a way, it’s really sad how she doesn’t really have any allies at her level. Shashank was the only one she could really rely on, and he went and blew that relationship up, and now she’s kinda adrift in the organization. I hope Shashank does good by her and repairs the relationship.

Anjali: Phew, finally a good break for Anjali. I'm ecstatic. She's realized that Vardhan's manipulating her and broken free of his gaslighting nonsense. She's much smarter than both Shashank and Vardhan thought she was and yes sis, play them both!!!!!!! She got her COS post, but also isn't playing by Vardhan's rules. Ultimate winner! But does she also have some romantic feelz for V? Coz that last scene between them had very intimate vibes, from the way she walked into his office and knew where the booze was, to her pouring him a glass and casually lounging against the wall like a wife/girlfriend would. She wasn't even really fazed when he grabbed her; either she's a hella strong woman who cannot be trifled with, or she's familiar with this side of him. I really hope it's the former coz she deserves someone who's a grown up version of Sid (*cough* Atul Joshi *cough*) who's super good and healthy for her, not this deceitful fuckwad.

Vardhan: What is his deal? No honestly, does he have some kinda personal stake in saving Sanjivani from financial ruin? It seems so, with how overwrought and devastated he seemed at Shashank exposing the machine waala scam. Also, the way he manhandled Anjali? Unforgivable. Die in a fire, scum.

Rahul: Still haven't seen him but apparently he's hiding in that secret room in the luxury ward? What the everloving experimental fuck is he doing with pregnant women who look to be unable to afford medical care? Nothing ethical, that's for sure. I have a feeling this will maybe tie up to Ishani's parents waala plot, but for the meanwhile, jfc, just reveal yourself man, coz this shit is getting scary as fuck the longer you go unseen.

Overall Rating: 5/5

[thorne93]

Stan Lee University (Part 13)

Prompt: What would the Avengers be like in college, more importantly, what would they be like if Y/N existed around them?

Word Count: 2248

Warnings: drama, language,

Notes: This is based on a HC from @carryonmyswansong. They helped brainstorm and write part of this series. In this AU, no one will have powers, everyone is a normal human. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​

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

In the following months, all through midterms, you two became closer than you would’ve imagined. You spent nearly every weekend at his house, often times just staying up late and talking. Eventually, you’d fall asleep in his arms, and he’d cuddle you all night.

You told him about your family, about your holidays growing up, your grades, your time in grade school. You told him about Bucky, how you met, how you fell for him, when you started to fall out of love for him. You told him about your first years of college.

He told you about his family and his time through school. How he wasn’t close to his parents much since his sister’s death. He had a brother, but he was already moved away and somewhat estranged from the family.

Twice, you went to the arcade, declaring whoever won the most arcade games won a free dinner from the other one. You won one night, and he won the other. He teased you relentlessly when you lost, but he wrapped you around the waist and kissed your hair, stating he’d still buy you dinner. You opposed though, stating a bet's a bet.

Around campus, you hadn’t even bothered with the drama. Wanda and Pietro still ignored you. Bucky hadn’t talked much to you since the day you confronted Loki. You and Loki didn’t interact. He gave you a dirty look after Stephen punched him, but other than that, you kept your distance.

Besides that, all was well. You didn’t announce that you and Stephen were dating, because it was nobody's goddamn business. You were sure people knew though, between the way you two laughed during lab, the way he touched your hand, the way you walked hand in hand to lunch, the way you left with him on Friday after your last class. It was obvious, but you weren’t going to let everyone in on your relationship. You didn’t owe it to them.

You went bowling once, and actually won, by some miracle. You gave Stephen a hard time, telling him, “You’ll never be a surgeon with such shaky hands. No way you can do surgery if you can’t even get a strike.” He took it in stride though, and made sure to make you pay when he took you ice skating at an indoor rink. You could barely keep up while he skated circles around you.

“What's the matter, can’t keep up? Oh that’s right, you’re so much more superior. I’ll just be racing around, you know, using my shaky legs.” He raced by you and winked while you barely inched forward, terrified of falling on the ice. After he proved his point, he actually came over and taught you how to skate properly and by the end of the day, you felt more confident on the skates.

It was becoming quick knowledge for you two that apparently you could both cook and bake up a storm. Every weekend you two stocked up on some meals, made them together, and then you baked Stephen some sort of obscure dessert you found on Pinterest -- with no complaints from him.

The Pre-med club had a fundraising event that you oversaw and Stephen helped. He didn’t have to, at all, it was just for officers of the club, but he said he’d rather spend time with you, helping you for a good cause than alone.

He assisted in setting up a whole amazing fair, complete with booths, games, and food. Tickets were for a local children’s hospital and all proceeds went to them. He even got his parents to donate a hefty amount anonymously in the club’s name. You were very appreciative of that gesture.

For the first time in a while, you were purely and genuinely happy. School was still going great, as both you and Stephen were devout to getting assignments and studying done before goofing off. Both of your grades were actually better now with a study partner, one that really understood the material and appreciated the time that needed to be spent on it. All of your friends and you met up still, Stephen joining you for quite a few coffee meets. He and Clint seemed to hit it off, which thrilled you.

The four of you had gone on two double dates, once to a restaurant, and once to a movie. In fact, by the second double date, when Clint couldn’t quite hear because the ads playing before the movie were too loud, Stephen signed what he was saying to him. Your heart swelled at the sight.

“When did you learn to sign?” you wondered, impressed, quietly when they were done conversing.

“A week ago. I know you told me he prefers to do that when it’s hard for him to read lips. I figured we’d be in a few of those situations.” He shrugged and you couldn’t help but smile like a huge idiot.

Tony had hosted three more parties, that you went to together and Loki did not show up to.

Things couldn’t get much better for you. It seemed like everything was finally in a good place.

In two weeks, you’d be home for winter break. You two hadn’t discussed what you’d do with the time off, if you’d hang out more, spend quality time with your families or how it would work. You thought you should probably discuss it soon though.

Saturday night, you were in your PJs in Stephen’s room, sitting at his desk. He was on his bed.

“Okay, did you calculate mu yet for problem fifteen?” you asked, looking down.

“No, give me a second,” he said, his brows furrowed.

“I’ve already got it. I thought I’d let you look at it.”

He lifted his head, a playful glare on his face. “For once, will you let me finish first?”

“I’ll never let you finish first,” you teased before sticking your tongue out. “Maybe when you stop with that bullshit science.” You winked as he stared at you. “What?” you asked, his gaze peculiar.

He bit his lip. “You wanna know why I didn’t go to that party with you?”

You eyed him up and down for a second before nodding.

“Because I wanted to.”

You immediately frowned, not understanding, at all.

“I don’t usually like people. I mean, friends are alright, sure, yeah, but as far as dating… It seemed like a waste of my time. I always thought I’d worry about it when I got to med school or residency. But undergrad, that’s the time to really kick ass, get the good grades in, hit the books. I just thought you would be too much of a distraction. And I was right. From the moment I met you, I knew you’d be the one thing that would threaten everything I’d worked for. But then, when you proved to be something that wouldn’t threaten it, you’d actually help it… I wanted you. I just. I was so worried I’d get wrapped up in you, in us, that my schooling would suffer. Then I hoped you would show up alone, so I could maybe make a move, but you showed up with Loki. Then, when you weren’t sitting in the spin the bottle circle, I was happy to see I had another chance. I didn’t want to date you, because you impressed me so much. I thought, ‘There’s a girl who could actually give me a run for my money’ and I don’t come across that very often.”

“So you blew me off because you were worried I’d make you fall in love with me… Sounds logical.”

He stared at you, serious. “It’s the most logical thing I’ve ever experienced because it’s true. I fell for you.”

You stopped breathing, looking at him. Your heart was hammering so hard and fast in your chest you thought you’d pass out.

“You… fell for me?” you asked in a whisper.

“Despite my better judgement. Yes.” He gave you that award-winning side smile. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you all the goddamn time. I worry about you. And for the life of me, I can’t help but imagine being with you.”

You were silent, having no clue what to say at first.

He got up from the bed before kneeling in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. “Please, say something. Tell me to fuck off. Tell me that I’m an idiot. Tell me you don’t feel the same. But please, don’t… I can’t stand the silence.”

For just another second more, you were quiet, you couldn't help it.

“I know it’s fast. I know you’ve been hurt. I know between Bucky and Loki this probably seems like it’s moving way too fast for you but you’ve got to know that I love you.”

Finally, you found your voice. “I love you too,” you finally admitted in a whisper.

The biggest smile you’d ever seen from him grew on his face. “Really?”

You nodded with fervor and a giant grin. “Of course I do. You’re… you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more. I wanted to tell you I loved you sooner, but I was worried you’d freak and… I don’t know, run?”

He looked at you, bemused. “I’d never run from you, okay?” He reached up and put your hair behind your ear before leaning up to kiss you softly. “I love you far too much to do that.”

He leaned back and you stared down at him with stars in your eyes, a warmth spreading over your body from head to toe.

“Okay,” you said happily.

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

A week had gone by since Stephen’s confession, but unfortunately, you two hadn’t had much time to focus on each other. He had to pack his dorm, and you yours, plus you had finals to study for.

Everything was packed now and you just needed to talk to Stephen about the holiday break arrangement. That shouldn’t be too hard. It was Sunday and you two agreed to spend time at his house, spending the night there.

“So, I was wondering,” you started, a little nervous to breach this subject. Admitting you loved each other was one thing, talking about holiday arrangements was a huge step.

“Aren’t you always?”

You ignored him except for smiling with an eyeroll. “About the winter break--”

Suddenly, his phone was vibrating on the counter in the kitchen. “Hold that thought,” he instructed as he answered the call and stepped a few feet away. “Yes, this is him.... Oh… Okay… When?... Alright. Yes. No, that’s fine. Thank you so much.”

After five minutes, he hung up and walked over to you, his face a mask of disbelief.

“Stephen?” you addressed, getting up and rounding the island, rubbing his back. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, no everything is great.”

“Who was that?” you wondered.

“That was the study abroad offices. They said I got the spot,” he informed, still clearly reeling.

You frowned, wondering what he was talking about. “Spot?”

Finally, his attention settled on you as he told you. “I… I was put on a waitlist for studying abroad in London. I applied as soon as I transferred here.” He looked at you with apology and slight horror in his eyes.

“Oh, and so you got a spot on their trip?” you realized.

“Yeah,” he breathed, nodding.

You beamed, throwing your arms around him in a hug.  “Great! That’s great!”

He slightly pushed you away and put his hands on your shoulders. “No, the plane leaves right after finals.”

That’s why he was upset. A pit grew in your stomach.

“Oh…”

“Yeah, it’s for over the Christmas break. I… I didn’t think I’d get it. I almost forgot about it. It’s a great opportunity for people wanting to be doctors. You go around and shadow a different kind of doctor every day,” he explained, hoping you would understand.

You nodded, a faint smile on your lips. “That sounds fantastic, Stephen. I’m so happy for you.”

His eyes shot back to your face. He looked at you, worry etched in his features. “I won’t go if you don’t want me to though. I mean, with everything just kind of… starting between us.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, putting your hands on your hips. “Stephen Strange, you listen to me, if this is going to help you make a better life for yourself, then you get on that plane. If we can’t withstand a few weeks apart, then clearly we don’t have a good foundation.”

“Yeah, but…” he started, clearly torn about this.

“No buts. I mean it. I’m happy for you, and I support this,” you insisted.

He put his hands on your hips and pulled you close. “I know. I know you are, but I’ll be away from you for five weeks. What about us? We love each other but this is just getting started and I don’t want to fuck that up.”

“I’ll still be here when you get back. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m going to miss you though.”

“We can always video chat,” you assured. You reached up and put your hands on either side of his face. “This is a fantastic opportunity and I would resent myself if I kept you from it. You need to do this and I’m happy to support that.”

“You’re an amazing person, and I’m so glad I found you.”

“Back at you, Strange,” you teased before planting a quick kiss to his lips.

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

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[justlightlysedated]

you lift the veil (my eyes are open wide) 1/7

part two of the strangeness and charm series

read it on [AO3]

dedicated to @fraudulentzodiacs 💖💖💖

chapter one: all doors are open to the believer

*

.maria.

Maria doesn't look up when the door opens and shuts loudly. There are only two people who would just walk into the bar without knocking, and only one of them would slam the door afterwards.

Isobel drops a small pouch right in front of her. It hits the counter with a small poof that dispels lilac powder into the air that smells of lavender and chamomile.

Maria looks up at her then.

Isobel looks like she hasn't slept, not that anyone who isn't Maria, Guerin, or Max would be able to tell.

Maria feels a little stab of guilt that she smothers immediately, raising an eyebrow and poking a finger at the pouch making sure it wasn't cursed or anything.

She can feel Isobel rolling her eyes.

“It's to help you sleep,” Isobel says sounding impatient like this is the fifth time she's explaining herself. “You've been keeping me up for the last three days.”

Maria gives her an impassive look, and Isobel just rolls her eyes again and huffs drops down on the bar stool behind her.

Maria crosses her arms over her chest, “We're not open for business.”

“I'm not interested in anything you're selling,” Isobel says leaning her elbows against the bar and tilting her head as her eyes drop down to Maria’s mouth and back up again.

Maria clenches her jaw so she doesn’t do something ridiculous like lick her lips and gives Isobel an unimpressed look.

Isobel sighs and drops her head to her hand, actually looking as tired as she is. “At least let me help then?”

Maria scoffs and picks up the pouch to put it somewhere where it won’t be in the way.

Isobel bristles immediately.

“You know what I can do,” she says voice low and it makes Maria narrow her eyes at her. “I’m more than capable of easing the way so that you can finally get to completion.”

Maria rolls her eyes as she turns away.

Isobel sighs and sits up. “I’m serious. If it doesn’t work then at least I tried everything that I could. I want to sleep some time this week.”

Maria looks back at her.

Isobel leans forward again. “What’s the worse that can happen?”

She rolls her eyes when Maria gives her a look. “Besides the obvious.”

Maria just continues to watch her weighing her options.

“No spells,” Maria says firmly. She has no interest in experiencing the out of control dazed feeling that followed, where everything felt like too much and she couldn’t control the things she said or what she did.

Magic was almost like a drug to non witches, euphoric when you’re right in the middle of a spell, but the come down was a bitch. The stronger the spell, the harder the fall.

And just like a drug the more magic you did the more you wanted to do.

Isobel nods her head and waves her hands in the air, “We’ll hold hands and do it the old fashioned way, I promise.”

Maria rolls her eyes again, but takes a deep breath and walks over to Isobel.

Isobel holds her hands out in front of her, and wiggles her fingers. Bursts of emerald static electricity spark across her fingers as they brush together, and Maria can feel the warmth that is Isobel lighting up in the back of her head.

If Maria closes her eyes, she would be able to see the strands of bright shiny emerald and sandy pale yellow woven together, binding them to each other.

She would also be able to make out the faint impressions of emerald-gold and emerald-sapphire that was Michael and Max, respectively.

Isobel stills her fingers and holds her hands out in front of her.

Maria takes another deep breath and raises her own hands. She holds them in front of Isobel’s just barely touching, and looks at Isobel for a long moment. Isobel looks back, eyes wide not hiding anything.

“Don’t you trust me?” Isobel asks and then wrinkles her nose. “No, trust isn’t the right word. Don’t you believe in me?”

Maria inhales sharply and looks away blinking several times before she inhales shakily.

Maria remembers vividly the last time that she did this with Isobel. The way that her powers heighten Maria’s and make her see more, hear more, feel more.

Maria swallows hard and nods her head once before she presses their palms together.

Isobel gives her a smile and then closes her eyes.

Maria sees as their hands light up, crackles of emerald static and a sunshine yellow glow.

She closes her eyes and exhales and concentrates.

It’s almost like all of her senses dim and narrow down to Isobel, the cadence of her breathing, the way her hands feel against Maria’s soft and warm and tingly, the way the scent of amber and freshly cut grass and freshly burnt sage  fills the air, the way Maria can feel her like strings wrapped around the base of her neck, slowly tugging at her until Maria inhales deeply and focuses on the problem.

Maria usually doesn’t have any trouble receiving her visions. She gets this anxious restless feeling in the pit of her stomach right before she goes to sleep, and wakes up the next morning surrounded in sketches she did while half asleep after being woken up by a vision.

But this time it feels as though something is blocking her.

Isobel immediately spots the problem and nudges.

Maria gasps all the air rushing out of her in an instant, and she feels a little lightheaded as Isobel threads their fingers together, holding on tightly as she nudges again.

Maria whimpers low in her throat as it starts to feel like Isobel is trying to tear her brain apart and tightens her fingers around Isobel’s finding herself swaying forward and bumping into the bar.

It starts to hurt a little too much, and Maria is about to tell her to just stop when the pressure pops like a bubble.

Maria gasps and her fingers hold on even tighter as she gets a flash of Alex dropping to his knees, his face covered in the shadows and the ripples as he does, like smoky black waves in the air throwing everything around him backwards, and as it washes over her the scent of a rushing river and smoke and ash fill her senses and the feeling that Alex isn’t Alex, or isn’t just Alex gets a hold of her.

Before she can dig into it, Isobel is gasping and tearing her hands out of Maria’s hold.

Maria distantly hears a clatter, like a bar stool falling backwards, and Isobel says something sharp and fast, but she’s too busy searching underneath the bar for her sketch pad and a pencil.

She finds them and sets them down on top of the bar and presses the pencil down on the paper a little too hard at first, stark lines outlining the scene.

By the time she’s done, her fingers are smudged in grey, her head aches and her eyes feel gritty, but the restless anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach is still there.

Maria yawns and covers her mouth with the back of her hand before she looks up to tell Isobel thanks for trying, but it’s to see that Isobel is gone.

She frowns for a second before she looks down to the sketch and worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

It’s Alex for sure, and he looks like he’s out in the Turquoise Mines in the middle of a fight which isn’t unusual, her vision could be of Alex fighting of something. It wouldn’t be the first time that it happened.

The problem is with his shadow.

It’s black and huge and looks like a maned wolf with the body of a lion snarling with it’s mouth open wide showing his huge sharp teeth.

She doesn’t understand what it means yet, and maybe she would if she could get a sense of the whole vision, because she has a feeling that whatever is going to happen is going to change everything.

She puts the sketchpad away beneath the bar where it won’t accidentally get wet and tucks the pencil next to the register before heading to the bathroom to wash her hands. She has several more things to do before she needs to get everything ready for opening tonight.

*

.alex.

Alex stares at Michael as he sleeps.

He’s sitting by Michael's feet, a hand wrapped around Michael’s ankle. He'd managed a few hours of sleep, with Michael wrapped around him, but the pain in his leg wakes him up like it always does.

Alex’s eyes dart to his leg, resting alongside Michael’s body, the metal shines blue activating the sigils and an icy cool feeling spreads along the heated pain where the metal is fused to his skin.

The surgeons at the Facility in Munich had told him that it’ll take him some time to get used to it, but sometimes Alex thinks that this is punishment for the protection spell.

Alex is good at taking the pain and compartmentalizing it and setting it aside to be dealt with later, and act like everything is okay in front of everyone else, he’s had a lot of practice growing up, but like with everything else, Michael is the exception.

Around him, Alex feels like he doesn’t have to just take it, that Michael will help him if Alex needs it. And so far, he’s been right.

Alex has learned in the last couple of months that he trained to fight with his new leg how to roll with it when his leg just doesn’t work like he’s used to, but Michael is always reaching out and helping before Alex notices that it’s happened.

Alex’s eyes dart back to Michael.

He doesn’t understand it really. Michael should hate him.

Alex hates himself for what happened to Michael.

If he had just listened to Mimi when she told him to leave the Guerin kid alone, then maybe their lives would’ve been different.

But Alex doesn’t think that there is any force in any dimension that would’ve been able to prevent what had happened and what’s going to happen.

Alex’s eyes fall from Michael to where Andro is staring at him, a pile of shadows right by his shoes, silently judging him.

Alex refuses to be judged by something that isn’t corporeal most of the time.

He looks back to Michael ignoring the tendrils of judgement he can feel coming from Andro and tightens his fingers around his ankle.

Alex's conundrum when it comes to Michael has always been that he wants to be as close to him as possible much more than he wants to stay away to keep him safe.

With an ocean and thousands of miles between them, Alex was able to resist the urge, but everything changed after Munich.

Alex came back to Roswell in a misguided attempt to protect Michael from afar, and maybe try to subvert the Prophecy at the same time. He should’ve known better than to try to mess with Fate.

A phone rings startling Alex, making him let go of Michael.

Michael twitches and then hisses in pain and moves. Alex presses his hand to his shin, but he’s already waking up.

The phone keeps ringing and Alex spots it on the counter. Michael’s phone, an ancient looking landline with a rotary dial that literally looks like it’s going to fall apart the longer it keeps ringing.

Before Alex can decide what to do, Michael is raising his hand in the air and twitching his fingers.

The handset flies into his hand, making the rest of the phone slide along the counter.

“I’m sleeping,” Michael’s voice is croaky and he still sounds tired.

Alex bites down on his lip as the guilt floods him and he darts a look over to his shoes to see that Andro disappeared sometime while Michael was waking up.

Traitor, he thinks at them, and gets a nudge back in acknowledgement that feels like amusement.

Alex looks back to Michael to see that he moved to lie on his back and is staring at him, not paying attention at all to what whoever is on the phone is saying.

Michael’s gaze moves all over him, and touches his tongue to his bottom lip and moves his gaze back to Alex’s.

Alex knows, objectively, that he’s physically fit, given that his job keeps him in shape, and he’s not bad looking, given the comments made from people interested in getting into his pants, but it’s one thing to hear it from strangers he’s barely interested in, and another to see the appreciation for how he looks across Michael’s face.

Michael has a way of looking at him that made Alex feel like the hottest thing on two legs when he was seventeen, and it hasn’t changed.

Alex pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and looks back.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, interrupting the crackling flow of words that Alex can just barely make. “See you when you get here, Iz. But don’t expect me to be dressed.”

He hangs up the phone by tossing it backwards and it lands on the cradle, gently.

Alex is distracted by the mention of Isobel, but Michael’s brain is obviously on one track as he moves fast, and straddles Alex’s lap, pressing back into the plywood headboard.

Alex’s head falls back on a moan as Michael sinks warm and heavy into his lap and leans down pressing his lips to Alex’s neck and dragging his lips up.

The phone starts ringing again.

“Guerin,” Alex says and clears his throat when his voice comes out breathless. “Wait.”

Michael kisses him.

Their lips touch and for one second Alex freezes, feeling like he’s right on the edge of a cliff, the exhilaration and the fear right before he moves, taking the plunge, and kissing Michael back.

Michael makes an approving noise against his mouth, and Alex slides his hands around Michael’s waist and pulls him in even closer until their chest are pressed together, licking into Michael’s mouth and deepening the kiss.

“Michael” Isobel’s voice fills the room, crackling through an old speaker, with a whirring sound in the background and making Alex pull away from Michael.. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. If you’re not dressed, I’m dragging you just like that to Max’s house.”

Michael groans and drops his forehead to Alex’s, sighing.

Alex swallows and tries not to look as panicky as he feels.

Isobel cannot see him here, or at all. Not while he still has Andro’s essence swimming through his blood, not until he tells Michael about the Deal, which was something that he’s going to have to tell him sooner rather than later, but right now in this moment, Alex can’t find the words to explain what happened to himself let alone someone else.

“I was so hoping that I could convince you to fuck me while you were all sleep warm and pliant,” Michael says, a questioning tone to his voice as he moves his hands to slide them down Alex’s arms, and grip his biceps, before he bites down on his bottom lip.

Alex inhales deeply and tries to remind himself that Isobel is going to be here any minute and he can’t afford to get distracted.

“I don’t sleep much these days,” Alex says honestly and moves his right leg beneath Michael so he gets the point. He licks his lips when Michael pulls back to look at him.

“I have to go,” he says when Michael parts his lips to talk.

Michael purses his mouth as he tilts his head and studies Alex for a second.

“Because of Isobel?” he asks raising an eyebrow, body going tense where he’s still settled on Alex’s lap.

Alex licks his lips not sure how to explain himself, but something must show on his face because Michael’s lips thin and he’s moving out of Alex’s lap before Alex can do or say anything.

“Fine. I need a shower anyway,” he walks towards the bathroom, and Alex turns to watch him.

“Gue-” he starts but Michael cuts him off.

“You can see yourself out.”

He steps out of his boxers and moves behind the curtain, drawing it close.

Alex blinks after him for a few silent seconds and then the water turns on, and then he moves.

The dismissal hurts a lot more than he’d been expecting, but it’s better than trying to come up with an excuse as to why he has to leave.

Alex puts on the clothes he’d taken out of Michael’s closet last night since his uniform had been a lost cause. He slides into his boots, not even bothering to tie them and is just reaching for the dagger that he’d turned into the trap for the demon last night when there are wet hands wrapping around his arms right above his elbows, and he can feel Michael’s hair dripping onto the back of his neck as he presses in close.

“I was planning on staying mad at you for at least a day,” Michael says voice low. “But you’re not fighting fair.”

Alex’s eyes fall shut as Michael tugs him back and presses in close against him. “Come back tonight?”

Alex is nodding before he can stop himself and Michael drops a kiss to the back of his neck, right where the collar of his shirt is.

“You can return my clothes then,” Michael says before he’s pushing Alex forward lightly, but not letting go. “Isobel should be here any minute.”

Alex swallows hard, “You should call her and tell her that if she’s actually planning to drag you out of here the protective circle isn’t going to let her through.”

Michael is quiet for a long silent, suspicious moment, but he doesn’t say anything else as he lets Alex go and walks back to his shower.

Alex inhales shakily and grabs the dagger, before he walks out of the door.

*

.liz.

Liz takes a deep breath and opens her eyes.

The bathroom mirror is foggy, and the patch that she had cleared up is already fogging over, but she can make out her blurry reflection.

She slowly lets the breath out and moves, unwrapping the towel from around her chest.

Her reflection is still blurry, but she can make the pale pink scar of the sigil right in the middle of her chest.

Max had called it the Evans Sigil, and had shown her the same mark cut into the palm of his hand. “It's how the spell works.”

Because that was her life now apparently, sigils and spells and other impossible things.

She still doesn't one hundred percent believe that Max is a wizard or whatever, but after last night, it wasn't possible for her to say the same thing about demons.

She looks at the mark on her arm, the one that Max hadn't known what it was, that he had called Michael to check out.

Michael had stared at the mark before turning to Max and saying. “If we die, I'm going to make sure to drag your ass to whatever hell dimension I end up going to.”

Liz found out last night after Michael had left and Max had dropped her home that the mark was how the demon could track her.

She inhales deeply and reminds herself that she is safe. Max's house is protected or so he says, but even if it wasn't, Liz feels much safer knowing that Max is nearby.

She feels a warmth in her chest, right against the mark, and she presses her palm over it, closing her eyes and concentrating on the feeling that she knows is Max.

It sends the warmth spiralling through her and she gasps, eyes flying open.

There is a knock on the door, starling her and making her drop her concentration.

She hears Max clear his throat, before he speaks. “Lunch is ready.”

“I'll be right out,” she responds and waits until she hears him walking to start getting dressed.

She pulls out Rosa's red lipstick from her bag. She'd stuffed it in there on a whim, but looking at the casing now, she can make out a small sigil that resembles the one on her chest, but different, drawn in sharpie right on the base.

She licks her lips and looks at her reflection again before she nods to herself decisively and uncaps the lipstick.

When she walks out into the living room, she finds Max across the room leaning against his desk reading from a thick leather bound book, cradled in his hands. His brow is furrowed and his lips move as he reads along, and Liz feels the warm feeling intensify inside of her at the thought that that’s something about Max Evans that hasn’t changed.

He looks up then straight at her as though he’d felt her, and Liz doesn’t know exactly how to feel about that. She also doesn’t exactly know how to feel about the way a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and how his eyes go soft and warm when he sees her.

“I made pancakes,” he says as he closes the book and sets it behind him pushing away from the desk.

“For lunch?” Liz asks raising an eyebrow.

Max shrugs. “We slept through breakfast.”

“Right,” Liz says remembering why she was here in the first place.

She takes a deep breath and looks at Max seriously. “I have questions.” Max nods his head and takes a step closer before he stops. “I’ll tell you everything that I can, but why don’t we eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” Liz says reaching forward to rest her hands against the back of the couch. “I want to know why there is a demon coming after me.”

Max swallows and nods his head, “Okay.”

He walks forward and sits in the armchair opposite the couch Liz is leaning against. “Why don’t you sit down?”

Liz shakes her head and leans harder against the couch, “I’m good here.”

Max just nods his head and then sighs, resting his elbows on his knees as he looks up at her. “I already told you that I’m a witch.”

“What does that mean exactly? That you can do magic?” Liz asks straightening up and raising her hands in the air wiggling her fingers.

“Something like that,” Max says giving her a small smile. “More like, witches can do magic without needing to study or using special chants and charms and words. Witches can use memories and emotions to power their spells. Witch Hunters can also use magic, but they need help.”

“Witch Hunters?” Liz asks feeling a little incredulous.

Max nods his head. “Kind of like the police of our kind. They monitor magic use and make sure no one is doing magic illegally.”

Liz moves to lean against the arm of the couch, “There are laws?”

Max huffs out a small laugh, “Yeah.”

Liz stares at him for a moment, and then puts her hand to her chest and sees the way he looks down at his hand, fingers clenching close.

“And bringing someone back to life?” she asks because she has to know.

“Breaks several big laws,” Max admits leaning back in his seat. “Would put another black mark on my record, which would cost me my job.”

“That’s why Michael stayed behind,” Liz guesses and moves to sit down on the couch, needing to lean back against something.

“Michael can handle the Witch Hunters,” Max says and leans forward again. “The black mark isn’t the only consequence. Black Level Magic is banned unless the circumstance is extreme and only then on approval of the Council, because it tears open the veil between dimensions.”

Liz narrows her eyes at him, and then blinks them, and opens them a little wide, before she looks away.

“So the demon came through when you saved me,” she says slowly as she looks over at Max's bookshelf.

“Liz,” Max says and her eyes go to him, and he stands up, walking around the coffee table to sit in front of her. “Even if I had known that the demon would come through, I would've done it anyway. It's worth it as long as you're alive.”

Liz looks into his eyes and they're wide and honest.

“Did I ever say thank you?” Liz asks holding her hand out and smiling lightly when Max immediately takes it in his and holds it gently between his hands.

“You don't have to thank me,” Max says quietly.

He brings her hand up to his face and presses a kiss to the back of her hand. “I couldn't not do it. Not after seeing you like that.”

His fingers slide to her wrist, fingertips pressing into her wrist, feeling her pulse.

Liz feels her heart jump in her chest, and Max's eyes widen a little before he turns her hand in his hold and presses a kiss to her palm.

Liz gasps and her fingers twitch in his hold and she scrambles to remember what she was doing.

Which is when the door slams open.

Both Max and Liz turn towards the commotion.

Isobel comes in and stops as she catches sight of them.

She lowers her sunglasses and raises an eyebrow at them before she stumbles a little as Michael walks into her.

He glares at her and then at Max as he heads straight to the dining table, but doesnt say anything as he sits down and starts to eat from one of the plates Max had set.

Isobel snaps her fingers and bright green sparks light up against their hands, sending jolts of static electricity through Liz's fingers.

She hisses in pain and tears her hand out of Max's hold, feeling a jolt in her right ankle.

“Isobel,” Max reprimands.

Isobel shrugs taking her shades off and hitting them against the palm of her hand. “We need to talk.”

“I know,” he says standing up. “I was just explaining to Liz-”

“We have bigger problems than a demon wanting to possess your high school crush,” Isobel says dismissively.

Max darts a look to Liz and then back to Isobel.

Liz takes that little tidbit of information and stores it away to examine later.

“Like what?” Max asks and Liz can feel the apprehension spreading through her as Max crosses his arms over his chest and focuses on Isobel.

“The Hound is in Roswell.”

[desdemonafictional]

Rung Meets Deadlock

a WIP from the Decepticon!Rung au

this’ll probably be part of a bigger day-in-the-life fic but I’m not gonna get back around that any time soon... so here’s what I’ve got for now!

--

When Deadlock appears in his quarters, without fanfare or warning, Rung doesn’t seem anywhere near as nervous as he ought to be. He ought to be very nervous. 

Everyone knows what Deadlock does. And although the Decepticon army’s CMO has never been formally introduced to him, Deadlock knows his reputation precedes him. Just like Rung’s reputation precedes him…

“Oh,” Rung says, as he turns on the light to find Deadlock sitting in his chair, “hello.”

It would be an understatement to say that Rung isn’t at all what Deadlock expected, after what he’s heard swirling through the grapevine. He’s small, but Deadlock was prepared for that. It’s the lack of weaponry, the lack of armor, the lack even of meaningful surgical implements or scientific kibble. If Deadlock were a less hardened mech, he might find the confidence of it frightening. 

In the second between turning from the door and spotting Deadlock, Rung goes from looking visibly weary to looking cool and sturdy and patient. It’s an impressive trick. Not that Deadlock doesn’t know plenty of ‘Cons who can switch on a new face at the flip of a switch, but the fact that he’s doing it now, under these circumstances? Well that’s not a bad show.

Rung considers him for a moment. Deadlock passes the sharpening stone down the blade of his sword with a sharp, grinding note, letting the flat of it rest across his knees like a quiet promise. 

Something flickers in Rung’s expression, but under the glasses, it’s nearly impossible to read. “I don’t normally take appointments in my quarters,” he says, “but if there’s something you don’t feel comfortable discussing in my office, I could make an exception.”

“You know who I am, don’t you?” Deadlock says, testing the blade edge with his thumb. He’d been reading through some of the files on Rung’s recreational datapad in the quiet before Rung’s arrival, but he set it aside a while ago. He doesn’t know how to feel about the correspondences he’s stumbled across, the ones saved deep down in the memory banks. Lord Megatron and the CMO, bantering. Discussing theater. It boggles the processor.

Rung’s expression goes a little tight. “Yes, Deadlock, I know who you are.” He comes across the room, laying down his work ‘pad on the desk as he goes. “If this is about Turmoil, believe me you’re not the first to ask, but I’m afraid there’s really nothing I can do at this point.”

Deadlock tilts his head. “Soldiers often ask you to work on their officers?”

“Work on,” Rung repeats. He frowns, like the phrasing bothers him. “Occasionally, people do ask for me to intercede with their superior officers on their behalf, yes.”

“And Megatron lets you do that?” Deadlock says, which is more or less the reason that his sword is still sitting across his lap and not inside of Rung’s spark chamber. If the things he’s heard are true, he wants to know how much of it is sanctioned. Part of him bridles from the very thought--Megatron, of all mech, would never, could never--but the rest of him is a grim pessimist, and if there’s rust rotting at the heart of the Cause, he intends to know about it.

Rung opens his mouth. For a second nothing comes out. 

“Well, as much as he can, I think. I used to have more leeway. Recently I’ve been… encountering friction,” he says, after a moment. “Megatron actually offered to do something about Turmoil for me, once. Perhaps I should have taken him up on it.”

Do something about…? What’s that supposed to mean?

Rung pauses, at the edge of the berth. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I know it’s unprofessional, but I have these aches. Would you mind terribly if I…?”

Deadlock doesn’t know what he’s asking--whether he can sit down, maybe?--but ne nods anyway. He can never help but indulge a medic when they talk like that. The wear and tear medics take kind of gets his engine going.

What Rung actually does is reach behind himself and disengage his dorsal kibble. It comes away easily, leaving the flat, smooth panel of his back as if it was never there. The moment the wheel-pack hits the floor, Rung relaxes visibly. 

“Sorry,” he says again. “Old injuries.”

“You’re filed as a non-combatant,” Deadlock says, narrowing his eyes. He would have prepared differently if he had known otherwise. Of course this isn’t an official visit; he hasn’t been briefed, there could be clearance above his standard clearance...

“Oh, it’s not combat,” Rung laughs, “I was taken apart by the Functionists several times, and they were more interested in the taking apart than the putting back together. I wasn’t always reassembled perfectly.”

Ahah. Deadlock leans in. “Is that where you learned the mnemosurgery?”

Rung goes still. His spark flares, deep in his chest, visible through the glass panel inset there. “I’m going to make Starscream regret his decisions with such a deep and abiding shame that he will spontaneously confess to every lie he’s ever told,” Rung says, in a voice that is cold with rage. “I thought officers would know better than to believe those rumors.”

Deadlock sits back. Rung is visibly livid, fingers rapidly tapping against the edge of the berth, glaring at something only he can see.

“Every time I walk into the medical bay now, there’s some poor spark that nearly climbs out the airlock trying to get away from me,” he vents. “I never thought I’d have to put up with fear at the sight of my face, it really is too much. Too much by half. What did I join this movement for if not to ease the friction on the ones who took the best of worse options, and now I find that my simple presence--”

He slumps, digging his fingers under his glasses to rub his optics. 

“He thinks he’s helping,” Rung says to himself, the way that you mutter an old calming mantra. “He thinks he’s helping. Never mind that I never asked for his help, he only understands one kind of strength, and he thinks he’s helping.”

“Who’s that you’re muttering about?” Deadlock asks. So far nothing about this encounter has been up to his expectations and what can he say? He’s curious.

“Starscream,” Rung says, like it’s unimportant, like it’s obvious, like it isn’t Starscream, living embodiment of a knife in the back, the silver-tongued terror himself.

“Starscream doesn’t help people,” Deadlock says with a sharp laugh. “Except himself, obviously.”

“I suppose he’d like us to think that,” Rung says, not sounding particularly amused. “He started this whole-” Rung waves a hand, “-shadow play rumor. That I’m some kind of mad scientist routinely bending people’s processors to… I don’t know what, people usually fill in that part themselves based on whatever frightens them most. I wouldn’t know how to execute a mnemosurgery if my life depended on it.”

“Uhuh,” Deadlock says. He smiles, indulgently, but doesn’t relax. Everybody knows the old saying: never trust a person with their needles in your neck.

“I don’t know what to do about this,” Rung sighs. Then he stops, and he looks up sharply. The point of his gaze is like the wicked tip of a paring knife. “Did you come to me,” he says, “to have someone shadow played?”

Deadlock could probably just kill him now and swing by the commissary for a bit of a job-well-done reward, but something about the way Rung looks through him--looks into him--has him almost breathless. He feels something in the strut of his spine, in the edge of his spark.

“I was sent to have someone taken care of,” he says, playing vague and uninterested even as his sensor net tingles.

“Well I can’t help you,” Rung says, sharply.

“Is it a money thing?” Deadlock asks. He wants to see what it’ll take to make the CMO break his pretty, professional facade. “Money ain’t an issue for me.”

“It’s not money,” Rung retorts. There’s a distinctly icy chill in his bearing now, in the set of his slim shoulders. “I can’t, and even if I could, I wouldn’t. Money is not the issue.”

“Now don’t act like you’re so above it all,” Deadlock tells him. “We all know what almost happened to Megatron. Shrinks like you signed off on shadowplay all the time, even before.”

Rung rubs the seams of his faceplate, a grimace distorting his mouth. “Personality adjustments, you mean,” he says. “Yes, we did sign off on those, didn’t we.”

Rung draws his hand back from his face and stares at it. The fingertips where the wicked needles would emerge are at the moment only blunt and dull.

“It was supposed to be controlled. Ethical. There were complicated, nearly byzantine steps--red tape a mile long--countless hoops you had to jump through in order to even think of ordering the procedure. You needed two medical professionals to sign off on it, you needed next-of-kin consent, you needed stacks of evaluations and trials and affidavits... We had no idea at the time--I had no idea--how easy it would be to simply walk up to a surgeon and then walk away, no one the wiser…”

“You don’t gotta convince me, Doc. I’m just here to do a job.”

The truth is, though, that Rung’s act is pretty good. Not too over the top, not too woe is me. Just the right amount of bitterness and self-reproach. Deadlock wouldn’t be surprised if there’s even some truth to it.

“Believe it or not,” Rung says, rubbing his fingers together, “PA was invented to help people. We were supposed to be healers. Mainly people with suicidal code glitches--involuntary prompt recurrences, intrusive thoughts, anxiety feedback loops--that sort of thing. And then it was approved for hallucinatory syndromes. And then for violent offenders. And then for anti-social personalities… and then you turn around and every empurata sentence has a PA order attached to it, and you don’t know where the line broke but it’s somewhere long behind you, and you can’t do anything but…”

He drops his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he says, optics flickering as if they had been rebooted, and then he puts on a smile. “I find my regrets catching up with me more and more these days. Who is it you wanted help with? Maybe this is a problem that can be solved with mediation. I can’t promise you I’ll have much political clout, but I’m a fairly good problem solver.”

Deadlock watches him, tracking every motion, every micro-expression. This really isn’t what he was ready for. Polished? Posh? sure. Eloquent, light-fingered? Yes. The quiet nightmare, Megatron’s pet abomination, a medic gone so thoroughly rotten that his very touch corrupted? Deadlock had been more than ready to put an end to that--

The mech in front of him is visibly weary, sore and soldiering on, old in a way that is almost disorientingly palpable. 

“You and the boss, huh,” Deadlock says, his processor still whirring. “Always wondered what was up with that. Everybody knows he’s got a thing about needles.”

“Are you speculating about my personal life?” Rung says, with some measure of exhausted humor. 

It’s not exactly unknown that Megatron and the CMO have a personal understanding of some sort or another. The medics all seem to know something about it, especially here on the flagship, and Deadlock spends a lot of time in the medbay, laying the sweetness on whoever happens to be on shift that day. 

That’s the other thing that made Deadlock hesitate, when he got the order. See, he hangs out with a lot of medics. He’s got a type, what can he say? He’s a sucker for a flash of medical red and a boxy chassis. And the medics around here? They talk about Rung like he single-handedly wrangled Luna 1. Most places Deadlock goes, the staff warm up to him fast. He likes them, and they like the security of having someone strong and scary around to back them up when front-liners start throwing their weight around. It’s a no-brainer. Symbiosis. 

Here on the flag-ship, the medics carry themselves differently. They don’t exactly tell him no, around here, but he thinks--given the way Rung has said a couple times that his influence is on the wane--maybe there was a time not that long ago that they would have. You know what Rung will say, he hears them remarking to each other; Rung won’t like that, Rung won’t be having with this, wait until Rung hears about this--

And, more quietly, more softly: has anyone brought him his--no, I’ll take it, I want to check on how he’s--well he’s always doing it to us, I think it’s plenty fair--

It’s not that medics are always good judges of character. They put up with him, for one thing. Bad people can be convenient, even useful. The indiscriminate fear of prey can lead to all sorts of ugly compromises. But there’s a way people talk about the monster they know, and it’s not the way they talk about Rung.

Familiarity prickles on the back of Deadlock’s neck.

[plasma-paints]

Okay, Theory Time!

This is going to be really long, so to spare people I’m going to put pretty much all of this under the cut, but it involves time and space and the fact that we might have had this all wrong from the start. Also, probably best if you watch part 4 of Observation first.

Alright, so Sean not so subtly implied that the egos are in fact from different universes. The universes intersecting for a short period of time before separating again would explain why the egos tend to come and go in our timeline. A good example of this in popular media is The Convergence from Thor: Dark World. At minimum two universes, or points in space in the movie, overlap and thus matter/energy can pass between unhindered. Being in the centre of one of these anomalies would technically allow you to be in multiple universes at once. (I like to imagine bubbles mixed with a Venn Diagram for visualization.)

So pretty simple, the universes intertwine, someone passes through, boom their in our reality for a while. Except, these kinds of anomalies are stereotypically spacially specific, so if one were to enter into one and then leave its area of effect, they may not return to their original universe. Essentially, they’d be stuck, albeit temporarily if they can find another anomaly. This is what I imagine has happened to each of the egos.

It can explain away a lot of things: 

-Jackieboy-man’s and Marvin’s abilities - Dr. Schneep’s strange medical practises (at least in this universe) -JJ’s inability to speak -Chase being able to stand in for Jack

It could also be used to explain Anti in a similar fashion, just another universe’s version, but I don’t think that’s quite the case. Anti, unlike the rest, is different. That much has been made obvious by the fact that he’s the only seemingly knowledgable one. He seems to understand what’s going on intimately. “Time is broken.” This indicates that the universes aren’t necessarily colliding at the same relative time, let alone space, but the more interesting fact is that he knows that they should be. ‘Broken’ implies that he is aware of a time when time flowed properly, possibly without the universes intersecting at all. A state of order so to speak. 

Anti though is the epitome of chaos, so why does he of all the egos know what order looked like? I mean he bounces throughout space and time, bounces around space within dimensions, and doesn’t appear to have a physical form of his own. There’s absolutely nothing orderly about him. So why is he the omnipotent ego? For that exact reason. He’s unstable, unlike the others, he’s unable to remain anywhere outside of an anomaly. For whatever reason, he can’t leave. So he’s been stuck who knows how long, getting glimpses of multiple realities and eventually he must have just put it together. For him, time is the most broken, phasing between universes at an almost imperceivable pace... He, for lack of a better word, glitches.

Now the real question is why? What happened to result in this instability? Why are universes, that for all extensive purposes should remain separated, bouncing around and into each other like billiard balls? 

The simplest answer: Someone fucked up, and they fucked up badly. 

My thoughts are that it was one of two individuals who caused this cascade failure of the multiverse: Anti... Or Sean. The narrative, as I see it anyway, can only make sense if one of them or both of them is to blame. Why else would Anti continue to appear back in this universe, harassing the egos who also end up in this reality? 

Anti makes a lot of sense, as he’s like the focal point of the chaos, the epicentre. He’s the antithesis of order and seems to only want to bring down everyone with him. He makes for a stereotypical evil entity.

The story becomes more interesting if it’s Sean though, that tipped the balance. He wouldn’t even have to know he did it, an everyday action that this version of himself wasn’t supposed to do perhaps... 

***Everything under this point is a potential partial timeline/plot theory***

I’m purely speculating now, but possibly that action was making a youtube channel. (I’ll come back to this.)

It would tie a lot of things together actually, and it would finally give Anti a proper motive. He just wants this to be over. “I’m tired of playing pretend, fucking circles!” Who knows how long it’s been for him? How many different attempts he’s made at fixing this, only to fail over, and over, and over? How many plans he’s tried? How many of them we’ve seen? Think about how calmly he said, “Time is broken.” This time around was different from his usual overzealousness. Possibly because it was one of his first attempts at reaching out, asking for help, hoping that somehow, someone else would put together the pieces and end his torment. 

It’s odd and fascinating because this entire time we might have been framing him as a villain because of what we witnessed first - the violence, the threats, the manipulation- that we missed the overall message: “Help me.” 

 If time isn’t flowing the same for him as it is for us, he could have been trapped in this in-between state for countless lifetimes: “I am eternal.” Being torn apart and stitched back together a billion times a second everywhere and nowhere, “always there, always watching.” Frantically he puts in information wherever he can: glitches, video tags, titles, social media, in those brief moments when he occupies our reality once more. He’s figured out that this universe is the problem, we’re the epicentre of a catastrophe beyond the comprehension of everyone but him. He tries, and he tries, and he tries to get someone to notice him. He becomes more knowledgable as time goes on, finds tricks to staying more stable, gathering allies from alternate realities (like those from the overnight watch), manipulating universes so that they intersect at the right places, puppeteering on a cosmic scale. 

Nothing ever works perfectly though, so he also becomes increasingly desperate. No one else is putting the pieces together, bringing his nightmare to an end. Suffering endlessly until he finally snaps, coming to a single conclusion. In order for this hell to end, he has to kill the person who started it all: our Sean. Time doesn’t matter to him after all, so all of the attempts we’ve witnessed are his end game. Perhaps he mistakenly took Chase for Sean due to him crossing universes and manipulated him into ending his own life (Chase’s power hour.) Another time he appeared while Sean was dying, and tried to disable the surgeon working on him (Kill Jacksepticeye.) He partially succeeds, and Sean’s in a coma.

Here’s where to channel comes in. If it’s the error that needs to be corrected, it explains why Anti’s so obsessed with us, the community. He may think that maybe that too would be enough, that if the channel dies, it’s the same thing as Sean dying, the mistake ceases to be. Except, even with Sean out of commission, the channel lives on. The other egos, primarily Chase it would seem, taking over to keep things running while Schneep tends to Sean. 

None of the Egos stuck in our reality have worked Anti’s situation out, obviously, all they see is another version of themselves actively trying to kill them all and so they band together. Realizing that these other realities’ versions of himself were actively interfering in his plans, he moved on to eliminate them from the equation too. Possibly he thought blackmail would suffice for Chase, so he took his kids. Instead of just sabotaging Schneep’s surgery in kill Jacksepticeye, he moves to try to choke him dead instead. An unending cycle of attempts to rid himself of Sean, of the stupid little thing that has caused him unending pain and infuriation.

Except... It does end. I’ve felt rather adamant that Say Goodbye is not the first major appearance of Anti from his perspective, but the last. Time goes by, Anti grows stronger and picks a time and place to focus on: October 2016. In order to focus himself there, he creates a sort of beacon whenever he happens to glitch through. “You all said my name,” for the first major time in our timeline, a call throughout time and space, “kept me inside.” We gave him a tether to one spot long enough to act out his plan. “This is all your fault! Too long! [You should have] listen[ed] to me!” We never put the pieces together, we took too long, so he had to resort to killing Sean.“You all made this happen! You could have stopped this, but you just watched as this happened!” He’s angry with us because if we had put the pieces together we could have ended his suffering earlier as well as saved Sean. “Now, he’s gone forever.” It’s over, it’s done, Sean’s dead, Anti presumably goes back to whatever reality he was from, and time and space fix themselves. We don’t know this though, because we still have to live out our failure in a paradoxical timeline that once everything is back in balance should cease to exist, no longer serving a purpose. So it’s literally the last chance to, “Say goodbye.” Not just to Sean, nor Anti, but to our universe itself.

But that’s just a theory, a meta-theory. Thanks for reading!

@therealjacksepticeye