#alice: *climbs buildings just to spite him* | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rjhpandapaws · 3 years

Text

Secure the Stage

Ch 4: Two Flames Are Better Than One

Silas's first reaction when he got the email about on campus classes being cancelled was delight. He would get to spend more time at the theater. That was closely followed by guilt, someone could have been hurt. He turned off his school alarm and got ready for bed. Monday found him awake at his usual time despite the lack of an alarm. He knew he wasn’t going to be getting anymore sleep, so he got out of bed and started getting ready for the day. Luther had put the finishing touches on some pieces that Silas had needed help with. Luther would be stopping by the theater to drop them off at some point today. Silas filled his travel mug with hot water from the sink, added instant coffee, put the lid on and shook it. Connor would be disappointed, but Silas cared more about caffeine than taste at the moment. He grabbed his bag, checked to be sure he had everything he would need, put on his shoes and left for the theater. He wasn’t in his usual clothes today. He planned to paint the set pieces Luther was dropping off as well as others that needed it. So he had opted for an old tshirt that an ex-hook up had left behind and an older pair of jeans that had seen paint days before. Part of him wondered if he would be seeing Allen today, and if did he wondered what they would talk about this time. They talked on his smoke breaks because rehearsals kept him busy and Allen was on the clock and couldn’t just stop to chat. When he got to the theater, he sent Luther a text to check in.

Sixer: I just got here. Sixer: Text me when you get here and I’ll open the delivery bay Sixer: Tell the girls hello if they are with you :) Superman: They say hello :) Superman: I should be there in a half hour Sixer: See you then!

He made his way to the side door and checked if it was locked. It wasn’t. He stepped back and then shoved his bodyweight against the door as he turned the knob to get it open. He grabbed the doorstop and wedged the door open so whoever came in next wouldn’t have to fight with it. He walked into the auditorium flicking the lights on as he went. He took the stairs to the left of the stage and set his bag down outside the supply closet. He opened the closet and got out what he would need. He let his mind wander as he got things set up. He was looking forward to seeing Allen today, if he was working today that is. After that awkward first day they had struck up a bit of an odd friendship. They didn’t talk often, only if Allen’s breaks lined up with his, or if Silas got to the theater early enough to catch him on his lunch break. They had built whatever this was on stolen conversations and the occasional wave from across the room. In spite of all that, he considered Allen to be one of his close friends. Not close enough to actively let his guard down, but closer than most.

Allen was his opposite in a lot of ways. The one that stood out the most to Silas was how open and inviting Allen was. Where Silas would think about how to answer a question truthfully but without giving any of himself away; Allen just answered them. He let people in close without thinking about the consequences. Not that Allen hadn’t gathered whole truths from him; because he had. The security guard could slip past his defenses without an issue. Silas hadn’t given him much yet, but Allen still knew more about him than anyone else outside of his carefully constructed family. It made him nervous. He learned a lot about Allen in their stolen moments. Some of them were little but personal. Like how he played the guitar and wrote his own songs sometimes. To broad but important things, like his desire to keep people safe. The thing that fueled his desire to become a SWAT captain. He lived in a house with four other people and was hoping to move out soon. Allen had so much he was freely willing to give. It amazed Silas, and remined him, in some ways of his twin. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the smash of of piano keys from his back pocket.

Superman: I’m here Sixer: Alright I’ll get the door

He put his phone away and jumped off the stage. He made his way to the back of the theater and into the delivery bay. He typed in the security code, set the garage door to open, and ducked under it once it was high enough.

“Luther, you’re the fu- best” He caught himself mid curse when he saw Alice’s head pop out of the back window of the truck. “These go to the same place as before. The code has already been typed in so you don’t have to worry.” Luther nodded as he pulled the truck in a little closer. Once he came to a stop Silas climbed into the bed and started grabbing containers with some of the smaller props in them while Luther got out and started on the bigger stuff. He was trying to be quick because it looked like Luther was in charge of taking Alice to school today. “Kara’s still not feeling well?” He asked as they made their way to the stage with the first load of set pieces and props. “I’d have rescheduled if I’d known.” “She’s starting to feel better, today was just an off day.” He set down the set frames he had been carrying, “I made time for this, Alice won’t be late.” Silas was relieved for that at least, “I’m glad I didn’t mess anything up then.” Luther hummed in acknowledgement as he went to go get another load. Silas set his load on the tarp he had set up and then followed him. They managed to split the last of it between the two of them and get it put away. Silas followed Luther back to the truck. “Thanks again for all your help Luther.” Silas said with a smile, “I’d be up a creek without a paddle otherwise. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you.”

“It’s no problem Silas.” Luther squeezed Silas’s shoulder, “Thank you for giving Kara and Alice something they can both enjoy.” “I can’t take the credit for that. They were here before I was.” He ducked his head and Luther gave his shoulder another squeeze before he headed for the truck. Silas walked to the back window so he could say goodbye to Alice. “Have a good day at school peanut.” Silas said through the window, “I’ll be seeing you this afternoon right?” Alice smiled and waved at him from the back seat, “Bye Silas!” He waved and stepped away from the truck so Luther could leave. Once they were gone Silas closed the delivery bay and headed back to the auditorium. He opened the sound booth and connected his phone to the system via bluetooth. With music playing to help pass the time, he settled in on the tarp and got to work. Silas wasn’t sure how much time had passed before a shadow fell across the tarp and scared the life out of him. He wiped his hands off on his jeans and paused the music. “Hey.” He said flatly, annoyed at being interrupted. He looked up to find Allen looking down at him in confusion. “What’s up?” “Hey.” Allen echoed as he looked over the tarp. His brow furrowed more as he spoke, “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

Silas shrugged. Leave it to Allen to believe that Silas was ditching classes to be at the theater. He’d only done that once so far. “Classes are online for the time being. There was a fire on campus over the weekend so they have to rebuild.” He displayed his paint mess with a flourish of his paint stained hands, “I picked up a couple of extra shifts at work, but the rest of my time is going to be spent here.” “That sucks.” Allen said after a moment, “I’m sorry about your school.” Silas shrugged, “It was just a building an no one was hurt. So things should be back to business as usual in a few months.” “That’s one way to look at it I suppose.” Allen said as he looked over the mess on the tarp, “So you have a key to the side door then?” “Kinda.” Silas said in an attempt to dodge the question. Allen didn’t take it and motioned for him continue. “This building is pretty old and that door in particular is picky. So unless you have the deadbolt just the right way, it doesn’t lock. It’ll look locked though. One stiff push from the outside and you’re in.” Allen gave a slow nod and spoke after an almost awkward stretch of silence, “So you broke in.” Silas rolled his eyes, “If you want to get technical about it, sure. Though personally, I only use the term if I have to use the fire escape or delivery entrance to get in here.”

“Why not just wait for someone to let you in?” Allen asked, as any reasonable person would. “Because nobody gets here until like eight.” He grabbed his paintbrush so he could get back to work. He wanted to be at least halfway done before rehearsal started, “I get here around six, seven if I take a cab.” “Does the owner know?” He pressed. “James? Yeah.” He grabbed the set piece he had been working on before and proceeded to get more wet paint on his hands. He ignored it and started on the next coat, “Why do you think I know the code to the security system?” It was amusing to watch Allen’s expression go through a rollercoaster of expressions. Going from panic to slight amazement. He collected himself before he spoke again, “Well I should be getting to work then.” Silas lifted his hand in an absent wave, “I’ll be here if you get bored.” He started his music up again as Allen left. He was pulled back into painting and a few more hours passed before his body decided whatever was left of his coffee was actually not enough to function off of. He checked the time and decided there was enough time to take a break and still get what he wanted done for the day. Since they were the only ones here it seemed fair that he checked to see if Allen wanted anything. He wiped the excess paint off of his hands onto his jeans, hopped off the stage and made his way toward the security office.

He knocked on the office door but didn’t get a response. He tested the handle, and opened it when he found it unlocked. He opened it just enough so that he could lean into the room, “I was gonna go grab some food before everyone else got here this afternoon.” He took some delight in watching Allen’s head snap up, apparently he hadn’t noticed Silas yet, Do you want anything?” “You might want to clean up a bit first. You’ve got paint all over your face.” Allen stood and stretched, “I’ll take my lunch break and come with you. The person working the afternoon shift should be here soon.” He felt paint crinkle and peel at his skin as he furrowed his brow. He touched his cheek to see if any of it was wet and came away with nothing so he gave a noncommittal shrug. “This stuff is a pain in the ass to get off so I’ll just shower when I get home.” Allen wrote something down before he turned back to Silas, “Alright. What are you in the mood for?” “Chinese.” He didn’t even have to think about it. He stepped back into the hallway figuring Allen would follow him. “There’s this place down the street. The outside doesn’t look like much, but the sweet and sour pork is to die for.” Allen laughed. “I’ll take your word for it. Are we walking or driving?”

“It’s pretty close, so probably walking if you don’t mind.” Silas said as he turned toward the auditorium. “You might want to get some shoes on first though.” Allen said, “If you cut your feet up too much you won’t be able to perform.” That was an odd thing to say, he was pretty sure he had shoes on. He looked down just to be sure, and found that he was, in fact barefoot. “Motherfucker!” Apparently he hadn’t put his shoes on before he went to find Allen, “One sec okay?” He took a few steps back and then ran at the stage and jumped up onto it when he had enough speed. He walked to the left of the stage and found his shoes right where he had left them, right beside his bag. He grabbed them and headed for the front of the stage. He put his socks and shoes on tying them tightly before he jumped off the stage again. “Alright.” he made his way back to Allen, “I’m ready.” He let Allen leave out the side door first, he flipped the deadbolt to unlocked before he followed suit. They made small talk as they walked toward the restaurant. He directed Allen toward the older building and got the door for him. He was surprised to see how crowded it was. “Is takeout okay?” Allen asked as he looked over the crowd. “Takeout is just fine.” He replied noncommittally. “I didn’t realize it was going to be this busy. We can just head to the counter and order, then when it’s up we can be on our way.”

They ordered their lunch and waited in easy silence for it to come up. As soon as they got back to the theater Silas took his shoes off and put them by his bag. He joined Allen at the front of the stage and settled in to eat. “So this might be dumb to ask.” Allen started, “But why do you always have your shoes off?” Allen gestured to his bare feet, “Every time I see you you’re barefoot.” “I’m just more comfortable with them off.” He mimicked Allen’s gesture, “If I’m not in an environment that strictly requires shoes I’m gonna be barefoot.” Allen smiled and shook his head, “What happens if you step on something you shouldn’t? Like glass or something?” Silas shrugged, “Pull it out and hope for the best.” They talked until Allen had to go back to work. Silas cleaned up the mess he had made of the stage and threw away the trash from lunch. After that he started getting things ready for practice. He was hoping their streak of good luck would hold out. They were ahead of schedule, and if they kept it up they would be able to practice the play all the way through twice before opening night. With everything set up, he walked into the sound booth to check his phone. Daniel still hadn’t gotten back to him about tonight.

Rehearsal was a disaster, if Silas had to pick a word. Half of the people who said they were going to be there didn’t show, and because of that they couldn’t work on the scene they were on. Instead, they ran through what they could with who they had, which was also a cluster fuck. The only thing that kept him from swearing up a blue streak was that there were kids present. He ended rehearsal an hour and a half early to help ease his frustration. “Are you mad at me?” Alice asked as they were waiting for Luther in front of the theater. “No, it’s not you Peanut, but some of the grown ups.” He said kindly, “You were great today Ally-cat.” Alice smiled and hugged him. He returned it and helped her down off the wall when he saw Luther’s truck pull into the lot. She rushed to meet her dad and Silas waved as they pulled off. “I need a fucking smoke.” He said to the open air. He grabbed his cigarettes from his pocket and paused when he didn’t feel his lighter with them. He checked his other pockets, his panic rising each time he came away with nothing. He put his cigarettes away and rushed inside to look for it. It had to be here somewhere. He didn’t know what he would do if it was lost. When the sound booth and concession stand proved to be dead ends he made his way back to the auditorium to look through his bag. He didn’t know what he was going to tell Richard if he had actually lost it. Getting something like that engraved had to have been expensive. When he dug in one of the side pockets and felt its outline he breathed out a sigh of relief.

“What were you looking for?” Allen asked as Silas jumped off the stage. Silas hadn’t notice him come in. “My lighter.” He said as he put the engraved silver lighter in his pocket with his cigarettes, “It was a gift so I don’t want to lose it.” He headed for the door, “I’m going for a smoke break. Care to join me?” “I don’t smoke.” Allen stated, “But I wouldn’t mind keeping you company out there?” Silas rolled his eyes as he opened the door, “I know you don’t smoke. You turn me down every time I offer you one.” He put space between them once they got outside so he wouldn’t have to worry about blowing smoke in Allen’s face. He sat on the short wall and lit a cigarette. He relaxed considerably on the first inhale and let the smoke out as a content sigh. “So how was rehearsal?” Allen asked just before the silence could get uncomfortable. Silas groaned, he had hoped he wouldn’t have to talk about it so soon. He took another longer drag. He tipped his head back and and blew the smoke into the air. He watched it curl away into nothing before he spoke.

“Horrible.” He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “We’re far enough ahead that it didn’t hurt anything. It’s just frustrating, you know?” He took another drag and adjusted his position on the wall to one that was a little more comfortable, “But that’s what I get for bragging I guess. I run my mouth to a few friends about how well things are going and then it all falls to shit. Though its better to happen now than on opening night I suppose.” “You’ll be fine.” Allen reassured, “I’ve only been here a few months, but from the things I’ve heard the plays you’re a part of always seem to do well.” Silas smiled stiffly, that was part of the issue. He took a short drag and let the smoke ride on his words, “The plays I’m in do well. The ones I write and direct tend to fall through.” Allen hummed pensively, “So you’re not in this one then?” Silas shook his head. “I am. I took two minor roles that no one wound up auditioning for.” He took another puff, “I do a little talking and have about ten minutes of total stage time.” “You do a lot here.” Allen said with a slight smile, “You do a lot for this place; acting, writing, directing, building the sets, painting them, and probably other things too. Why not just go to a better theater? You’d probably find more recognition that way.”

Silas motioned toward the building. He loved this place. “Don’t get me wrong; when I got into this in high school, I was chasing the Broadway pipedream.” He could feel himself getting pulled down memory lane, it wasn’t anything overly personal so he didn’t mind telling Allen, “When I got to college; my freshman year, we had to do a project on local theaters and why so many of them fail.” He took another drag and let the smoke out with his words, “I learned how many of these little theaters fail because all anyone is worried about anymore is exposure, and I wanted to keep that from happening.” He sighed, “Established theaters are good for exposure, which is fantastic if that’s what you’re after; but I want to foster the love of theater in other people. So here I am.” His cigarette was down to the filter so he put it out. He was still pretty tightly wound so he lit a second one. When he looked at Allen, that concerned furrow was back in his brow and he was frowning. “What’s with that look?” He said a little sharper than he had intended. He took a breath and continued in a more conversational tone, “It’s only my third one today. After this one I’ll head back and we can clean up a bit.” “I was just surprised.” Allen said lifting a hand placatingly, “You normally only have one then we head in back inside.” Silas laughed humorlessly, “Today’s a two smoke kinda day. It’s nice out and I have good company.” “I suppose that’s true.” Allen agreed.

Silas turned to face Allen, “You look like you want to give me a health lecture. My brother is a nursing student, so I’ve probably heard it. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll listen.” Allen sighed and looked away from him for a moment. “You sing and do a lot of the things you do rely on your voice.” He cleared his throat and looked back toward him, but not at him Silas noticed, “I mean, you seem to love doing this and I would hate to see you have to stop before you’re ready to.” “I am trying to quit.” He said a little defensively. “Trying being the optimal word. I’ve gotten down to having three or four a day, but I’ve never managed to actually stop. Every time I get to the point that trying seems like it would go well, something else I have going on gets fucked up and I start all over again.” “So its a stress thing?” He asked. “Kinda.” He said with a tired sigh. This conversation only made him want to smoke more, “That’s what it started out as. I like to say I do it to clear my head or gather my thoughts, which is also kind of true, but I also do it when I’m bored or nervous. It’s devolved into an all the time kind of thing. It helps keep me busy and that’s why its such a fucking crutch.” As proof of his point he took another drag to help ease the tension he felt coiled around his bones and let it out with the smoke, “I’m trying to quit now too. I’m trying to keep under a pack a day now, and then work my way down from there and hope for the best.” He shrugged, “The usual.”

“I can um. If you want, I could give you my number.” Allen suggested, “Then if you need a distraction you could call me instead. We could talk, or if it’s real bad I could come over and hang out.” “I’d appreciate that. Thank you Allen.” He found himself smiling around his cigarette as he patted himself down for his phone. It was still inside. “Fuck. Its still in the sound booth. “ “I’ll just send you a text, then you’ll have my number.” Allen said as he handed Silas his phone, “Problem solved.” Silas nodded hid acknowledgement and put his number in under the nickname Theater Bitch <3. Allen could change it if it made him uncomfortable. He smiled and handed the phone back. “Nicknames huh?” Allen remarked around a smile. Silas laughed, “Did you expect anything else from me?” “Not really no.” Allen teased. Silas put his free hand over his chest in mock offense and huffed out an over dramatic sigh, “You are so rude to me. I provide you free entertainment and this is the thanks I get.” Allen laughed, it was a sound Silas would never get tired of, “You’re so dramatic.” Silas put out his half smoked cigarette, “What part of Theater Bitch didn’t you get?” He got down off the wall and threw both cigarettes away. He made sure he still had his lighter before he headed for the door, “Let’s get the stage cleaned up.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Allen said after a moment. Silas dusted his feet off when they got back inside. He could hear his phone still playing music, it was still charging in the sound booth. He checked his feet once more and then made his way to the stage. He walked to the utility closet to grab what he needed for cleaning. He was not ready to hear his text tone blast over the speakers and it scared the life out of him. “Ah, fuck!” He yelp as he jumped and dropped the mop, “Fuck. I should change that.” He picked up the mop as well as the broom and made his way back to the main stage. He leaned them against the wall and then moved to start on the sets. “What do you need me to do?” Allen asked as he stepped up onto the stage. “Same as last time.” He said casually, “We’ll breakdown sets then I’ll do the rest myself.” They got to work and the small conversations they usually made fell away. Silas got pulled in enough that he began to sing along to what was playing on his phone. After a few songs he stopped, he remembered Allen was there. It didn’t stay quiet long, he started singing again. The cycle repeated itself a few times until everything was done and he had grabbed his phone from the sound booth. He had two messages. One from Daniel and one from Allen.

Danny <3: We’re still on for tonight ;) I’ll be to the theater soon. Then I have to go pick up Simon, so I’ll see you again at 9. That okay? Sixer: We’re golden. See you soon <3

Unknown Number: Guess who Theater Bitch :)

He set Allen’s contact The Okayest Captain. He was getting ready to got talk to Allen again, maybe have another smoke break when Daniel texted him again.

Danny <3: I’m here. Simon got off early so please be quick. Sixer: On it. I’ll be right out

“Fuck. My ride is here, I gotta go.” He tossed his shoes into his bag and leapt off the stage and ran toward the side door. “I’ll text you later! See you tomorrow Al!” Daniel was waiting outside with the top down on his car. Silas didn’t bother with the door, he boosted himself over the side and stuck his bag in the footwell. He kissed Daniel’s cheek before he put his seatbelt on as they headed for his apartment. “Let me guess, you didn’t tell Simon.” Silas remarked and they both cracked up. “You know how he is about these things.” Daniel responded, “I get he’s worried about the whole coworkers thing, but it’s you.” “We’ve been at this since what? Senior year? I’d hardly say the coworkers thing is something to be worried about.” When they got to his apartment he kissed Daniel’s cheek again before he got out. “You bringing the good stuff tonight?” Daniel just winked. Silas grabbed his bag and headed for the elevator. He texted Allen on the way up.

Sixer: Guess who :) Sixer: Sorry for running out on you! I have a friend coming over and I needed to clean my apartment. They Okayest Captain: You’re good. Have fun! Sixer: Thanks Sixer: Will I be seeing you tomorrow? The Okayest Captain: Yup Sixer: Cool. Have a good night! They Okayest Captain: You too.

Silas rushed to clean up his apartment. He took his time in the shower, because the paint was a bitch to get off and he wanted to be sure he got all of it. Afterwards he put on one of his favorite shirts, it was for Knights of the Black Death, and his favorite pair of socks. He felt like being a little shit so he took a picture in his full length mirror and sent it to Daniel.

Sixer: Still coming over? <3

He set his phone down for a moment. He and Connor hadn’t checked in a for a while so he decided to do that before he got distracted and forgot again. When he opened his messaging app he froze before he even got to Connor’s conversation. He hadn’t sent the picture to Daniel but to Allen. Well, that was one way to break the ice he supposed.

Sixer: I am SO sorry! Sixer: That was meant for a different friend! Sixer: I just hit the most recent contact. Sixer: You can keep it if you want thought <3 Sixer: I wouldn’t be opposed to you staying the night ;) Sixer: Just not tonight though. The Okayest Captain: No problem. The Okayest Captain: I’ll think about it ;) The Okayest Captain: Have fun and be safe.

Speaking of distracted, he had Allen on the brain again. The whole point of inviting Daniel over was to get his mind off the security guard, and now he was regretting not having invited him over. What was that saying about too many choices. He’d be pulled in when Daniel showed up, but for now he was left wanting and he hated it.

#Secure the Stage #StS #Hand Brewed Hope AU #HBH #Allen60 #Daniel60 #dbh captain allen #captain allen #dbh sixty #cyberlife tower Connor #rk800-60 #dbh daniel #dbh fic #dbh

11 notes · View notes

nemossubmarine · 3 years

Text

Warhammer 40k: Wrath & Glory RP #40

Alice and Larry have a chat about the coming night. Since there’s a chance of death, Larry wants Alice to know she’s been important to him. Alice warns Larry about getting too sappy. But they exchange words of platonic love. They talk about making sure they survive, neither have any qualms of pushing some Wolves onto the path of any enemies. Alice says that Larry has been a good friend, even if he left Michael behind. Larry apologises and says he doesn’t feel safe around him, even Chazaqiel told them to be careful around him. Alice says she needs to tell Larry something, if she might die, she needs the world to know… that Michael has a huge dong. Alice hadn’t told anyone because she was spiteful that no one else was interested. It was kind of an accident (the situation was), but also for science. Larry says knowing this might not change his stance on Michael, but he’ll reconsider it, and will let the world know if worst comes to worst. He doesn’t know what exactly the knowledge will garner them, since he’s not sure if Michael (/Astartes in general) swing in any way, but hey, you never know.

Rebecca asks Izarak if he has a moment to talk. Roberto has apparently gone to have a chat with Ferrus. Rebecca apologizes for Roberto, he hasn’t really expected to see Izarak ever, so being angry at him has been easier for him. She says Roberto would however never let any actual harm come to pass on Izarak. She hopes Izarak doesn’t doubt that Ada is loved and well cared for. Izarak says he has no doubts about that. Rebecca says she doesn’t know where Ada will go after she comes home, as Dimmamar is unlikely to be safe for several years due to orks, but where-ever that’ll be, she invites Izarak over to visit. Izarak said he’d like that, but he has no idea where he’ll himself be, saying that he’s in some mid-to-big-sized trouble with the priesthood. Rebecca says if her and Roberto’s name is any help in Izarak’s troubles, he’s free to use them. She then asks him to bless her Knight, which he does.

Ranan and Coco are checking their weapons for the night. Ranan expresses sorrow that Coco has to be part of this kind of violence, as she’s no guardsman. Coco tends to agree, saying she’d much rather be at home. She asks if Ranan has any regrets, and Ranan replies that he has plenty, but doesn’t really elaborate. Coco says she’s thinking about going back home and doing some yelling about people not standing up to her against the accusations that she killed her brother. They talk about Omar taking over the family business, and Ranan is a bit doubtful they would, as it had never before been in the cards. Coco asks Ranan to tell Ace if she dies, and asks if anyone needs to be told if he dies. Ranan says his moms have mourned him a couple of times over, and Hackney would know if he simply just doesn’t show up. Coco says she’ll tell Hackney nevertheless.

The plan involves Rebecca hiding with Saef, Izarak, Coco and Larry under the tau stealth drone, while the Wolves pull attention with some poorly (on purpose) set up traps. There is backup within one building in the form of Wolves and Roberto, and Alice is waiting with Ferrus and couple of Wolves some way away, in case Ferrus’ eye is needed. Uffe and Ranan are sniping from the rooftops.

They have to wait until night-fall before anything starts to happen. It starts with bells beginning to ring in one of the bell towers. It is answered by another and another, and soon everywhere a sound of bells ringing can be heard. No sight of anyone, until a lone figure shambles out of one of the buildings. It is a human, dressed in the robes of the priests, and most notably missing his head. One of the Wolves shoots it down with his bolter.

More corpses begin to appear, and some are on the roofs, tossing down their heads. They’re not particularly difficult to disperse with, but there is quite a lot of them. Some start appearing near where Rebecca and the others are hiding, and they have to be shot down. Some infected corpses and bigger funeral processions start making it to the field. Ranan shoots one down to deter corpses making it towards Rebecca. Some of the corpses are starting to get close to the Wolves, and its clear they’re aiming to grab Skarde. It doesn’t look like Chazaqiel is aware who has the actual datadisk in hand.

Alice notices some water rippling from where she is standing, and a creature made up of corpses tossed into the water emerges. It starts to make its way towards where the Wolves are, which would take it straight through Rebecca. Uffe tosses a grenade to break down a wall to make it so that it can’t walk into Rebecca. The thing attempts to climb up a wall, but it’s not very good at that.

Coco gatches a glimpse of some blue-ish light beyond the roof-tops and sneaks to take a looksie. The light turns out to be Chazaqiel sneaking about. He eventually moves to a place where Ranan can see him. Ranan takes a shot, but it doesn’t appear to do much damage. The Wolves taunt Chazaqiel for him to show his face.

Despite the Wolves calling out Chazaqiel for cowardice, it doesn’t look like he’s going to move in. So the Wolves agree to move out, leaving only the people hiding with Rebecca and Uffe to watch over the square, and Roberto hiding in the building.

When the Wolves start moving away, eventually the hiding folk can see Chazaqiel moving towards the square. He is going towards the Wolves’ ship but before he can reach it, from the darkness, with Coco calling out the shot, Rebecca shoots at him, hitting him on the shoulder quite badly. Chazaqiel takes one look at the situation, and runs off. Coco gets on the rooftops to follow, and gets even one shot in, but doesn’t manage to pierce his armor. Rebecca lines another shot and blasts his feet from under him.

Coco gets to a roof-top close to Chazaqiel, and notes that he is attempting some kind of a psychic ritual(?). Afraid that he might be escaping and urged by Larry, Coco takes the final shot, her bullet cracking through his helmet. Chazaqiel goes: “Oh father, please, not like this”, before bursting into blue flames. His corpse burns for a bit. Once the flames have died down the rest of the people come examine him. Coco gets a high-five from Rebecca.

Uffe turns what remains of Chazaqiel around, and after a moment’s inspection, says they’ll take the remains to Baal. Larry asks Uffe aside, and voices his concerns that Chazaqiel’s existence being known more widely might speak trouble for them. Uffe says that they can not prove the Mechanicus’ innocence without something to show for it, and he’d rather give it up to the Blood Angels rather than the Ecclesiarchy. Larry, though still not enthusiastic, asks for their group’s involvement to be kept to a minimum.

When the rest of the party is told of the Wolves’ plan, they bring up Michael back at Llosie, but Uffe says it’s too out of the way. They can however come along, explain his situation to the Blood Angels, and perhaps the Blood Angels would have someone come along and pick Michael up. That sounds good so it’s off to Baal for the next session.

#nemo roleplays #long post #wag rp s2 #add tags later #in hindsight chazaqiel rolling not to be able to sense the datadisk #should have worked more around that #possibility #wolves are known as astartes killers so it didn't make any sense for him to face them head on #i mean good planning from players #kind of a bad combat #as in never even got to combat time #ah well you live and you learn

2 notes · View notes

henrvkas · 5 years

Text

plays with lightning; alice.

( cis woman | she/her | natasha liu bordizzo ) —— isn’t that alice crouch (longbottom)? yeah that is them, sitting there at the hufflepuff table with those other seventh years. when sybill looks into that crystal ball of hers, she sees pressed flowers in history books; smudged eyeliner; last nights mascara; a girl willing to get her hands dirty; a dancers stance; a duelers steady hand; her fathers daughter. anyway i’ve heard they’re pretty ruthless, dedicated, and vengeful. apparently they’re the founder of ‘for the light’ (contacted by dumbledore) and pureblood but i’m sure that’s not related. —— [ mhairi : gmt : 20 : she/they ]

→ NAME: henrika youya (优雅) alice crouch → NICKNAMES: alice, ally, rika, youya → AGE / D.O.B.: 18 / 1st september 1958 → SPECIES: pureblood witch → GENDER / PRONOUNS: cis woman / she&her → SEXUALITY: bisexual

FAMILY → PARENTS: bartemius crouch snr. 46, head of magical law enforcement. henrika jörgensdóttir, 42, writes a weekly opinion column in the daily prophet. → SIBLINGS: bartemius crouch jnr. 18. læla crouch, 16. → PETS: freyja, barn owl she got for her seventeenth birthday. thór, a toad she got for starting hogwarts.

LIFESTYLE → BORN: glasgow, scotland → RAISED: jordanhill, glasgow, scotland → CURRENT RESIDENCE: hogwarts castle / jordanhill → NATIONALITY: scottish & icelandic → SPOKEN LANGUAGES: english, mandarin and a little icelandic → OCCUPATION: student, prefect, leader of ‘for the light’ → DRINK | SMOKE | DRUGS: occasionally, occasionally, no → RELIGION: raised catholic

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES → FACE CLAIM: natasha liu bordizzo → ETHNICITY: icelandic & chinese → HEIGHT: 5ft. 5in. → WEIGHT: 110bs → BUILD: medium height and well built → HAIR: long black hair falling to her chest → EYE COLOR: brown → DOMINANT HAND: ambidextrous - preference for writing with her right and wand work with her left → SCENT: aqua manda perfume - mandarin, ginger, lavender, patchouli, cinnamon, juniper berry → ACCENT: thinks she speaks without an accent but it’s fairly obvious she’s from glasgow unless she’s trying to hide it but even then she’s obviously scottish - has an unbeatable connery impression → NERVOUS HABITS: talks to herself when stressed to try and calm down

CHARACTER → MORAL ALIGNMENT: neutral good → MBTI: esfj → WESTERN ZODIAC: virgo sun, aries moon, gemini rising → CHINESE ZODIAC: dog → TAROT CARD: the high priestess → ARCHETYPE: the caregiver → SONG: short change hero - the heavy

MAGIC → WAND: blackthorn, dragon heart string, 14 ¾", feisty → PATRONUS: dove → BOGGART: the dead body of her sister and, more recently, frank → OWLS: alice sat nine OWLs in her fifth year getting two poor’s, one acceptable, two exceeds expectations, and four oustanding’s. Astronomy, P. Care of Magical Creatures, P. Charms, E. Defence Against the Dark Arts, O. Herbology, O. History of Magic, A. Ancient Runes, O. Potions, E. Transfiguration, O. → NEWTS: now in her seventh year, alice is sitting five NEWTs getting four exceeds expectations and one outstanding in her end of year exams. Charms, E. Defence Against the Dark Arts, O. Herbology, E. Potions, E. Transfiguration, E. she had been sitting a NEWT in ancient ruins but was asked to drop the class over the summer.

BIO

first born to bartemius crouch snr, a chinese pureblood wizard who’s family had long made it’s home in scotland, and henrika jörgensdóttir, a pureblood witch born to icelandic parents in orkney; henrika youya alice crouch jnr, came into the world just as the 1st of september 1958 was coming to an end, followed closely by her brother bartemius crouch jnr.

the couple had met through snr’s sister, bernadette, who had been friends with henrika at school and while the spark didn’t happen till happen till both were working at the ministry, when it did it burned hot. but it also burned fast. married quickly (and with children on the way even quicker) it didn’t take long for hearts to grow distant and eyes to wander.

with a husband climbing the ministry ladder and family wealth too, henrika soon left her job in the wizengamot administrative services for a post in the daily prophet. the society pages. a women not used to being idle henrika soon became close with one of her new colleagues, far too close. a closeness that manifested in a short lived affair and and long term consequences. a daughter. a daughter henrika passed off as her husbands.

little læla completed the crouch family, or so it seemed, but when the truth came out to senior not long after the girl’s eighth birthday, it only exacerbated a divide that was already forming in the crouch clan. henrika vs snr. any anger the man felt directed at his wife, it still left læla second favourite to both her parents. to any who knew the pair it soon became obvious that it really would be in the best interest for everyone involved for them to separate. but in a move no one could tell if it had been rooted in spite or in hope of the spark that was, they didn’t and remain together to this day. equal parts deeply in love and soaked in loathing.

alice has always been her fathers daughter, taking after him in looks far more than she ever resembled her mother, people have been saying it since day one and it’s only became more true with time. she takes her moral compass from the man, and while she wields it with more affection and compassion than he ever could, she is still every inch the daughter of the man who authorised the use of unforgivable curses.

but she is not all her father, possessing the same shrewd mind as her mother, she is a champion of change and justice but she’s not here to break the wheel, merely oil it. to alice it is not the institution that is corrupt but rather those who play in it; eliminate them, fight fire with fire, and new growth can start afresh.

growing up caught in the crossfire of her warring parents there are many oxymoronical things about alice. as equally skilled a dancer as she is a dueller, she’s been educated in both since a very young age. ruthless, she’s finding more and more that she can make decisions many find impossible with out blinking, but she’s also a very kind and gentle person. in part through nature, in part through being forced to take up a maternal role in her family. a romantic at heart and yet she’s scared to commit, scared to end up like her parents. she wouldn’t shy from an arranged match. marriage could be a business to her as long as she can pursue romance on the side.

while alice seems very cool tempered it is actually very easy to get on her nerves, and while minor grievances slide away after long, she can hold a grudge with the best of them. it is rare to see an outburst from her though, only coming when enough piles upon her she can’t help but lash out. in many ways it’s her reset button.

prefect, founder and leader of for the light, beater for the hufflepuff quidditch team and captain of the hufflepuff duelling team; alice has taken on many roles and juggles them all well, although in recent times her focus has become more and more militaristic. there’s a war on, a war she knows she’s on the right side of and a war she will win — one way or another.

and while many of her accolades are for a cause there is a more selfish reason that helps fuel them; so she can prove her worth.

she is the natural politician in the family. she is the eldest. by right the family wizengamot seat should’ve become hers; she’d been promised it after all. but henrika decided it should go to the son and so on their 17th birthday barty jnr got a wizengamot seat and alice got an owl. a year on and alice is still seething.

#𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 : alice . ⧽ — — and she dances in my dreams .

2 notes · View notes

petrichorsouled · 5 years

Text

;female ocs

Name: True Name is too difficult to pronounce, she goes by ‘Glenda’ Age: Unknown, immortal Date of Birth: Unknown Place of Birth: Athens, Greece Gender: Agender (she/her & they/them pronouns) Race/Species: Unicorn (usually takes a more humanesque form) Language(s): English, Latin, Gaelic, French, Greek

Occupation: Fortune Teller

Physical Description Height: 5′2″ (human form), 3′0″ (normal form, she’s tiny) Weight: Unknown

Body Type: Pudgy, hourglass Eyes: Incredibly light blue, almost see-through Skin: Light brown, when in her normal form she has light brown fur Hair: Pastel pink, falls in long waves to the back of her knees

Personality/Attributes Personality/Attitude: Glenda is a bit of a diva, and hates when things don’t go her way. Bratty and childish, stubborn and a bit hot headed as well. Sensitive, outspoken. Won’t hesitate to put someone on blast. Friendly upon first interactions, might become clingy around someone she likes/grows attached to. Highly intelligent but will often put on an airheaded facade. Fears: Unknown Mental illness(es)/disorders: borderline personality disorder, rejection sensitive dysphoria, depression Sexual Preferences: Demisexual Demiromantic Place/Type of Residence: Lives in a cottage on the outskirts of town Family: Celus & Ioa (parents), Eine (older sister), Roan (older brother)

Trivia:

-uses her magic to help with her occupation; her fortunes (almost) always turn out to be true.

-loves nature but hates bugs.

-thinks other species are below her.

-has impaled others with her horn before (and will most likely do it again).

-has a baby blue star shaped birthmark on her hip.

-hooves are pastel pink.

Name: Vivien Rosaro Nickname(s): Age: 42 Date of Birth: Unknown Place of Birth: Unknown Gender: Female Race/Species: Werewolf (bitten, not born) Language(s): English, Italian

Occupation: Werewolf Hunter

Physical Description Height: 5′0″ Weight: 154 lbs

Body Type: Hourglass, curvy Eyes: Pink Hair: Dark, dark gray, almost black in color. Long, falls past the middle of her back. Skin: Olive tone

Personality/Attributes Personality/Attitude: Vivien has a strong prejudice against werewolves. Around strangers she can be a little on edge but will interact and be polite unless they give her a reason not to be polite. A bit of a pessimist. Fears: being vulnerable, small enclosed spaces, not being good enough, failure Mental illness(es)/disorders: PTSD, borderline personality disorder, depression Sexual Preferences: Demisexual biromantic Place/Type of Residence: Small cottage near the edge of the forest Family: Unknown

Other:

-during a trip to her grandmother’s house when she was just seventeen, she was led astray by a handsome stranger. He was able to seduce Vivien and during their lovemaking, bit her and turned her into a werewolf. The reason he did this? Wanting to expand the werewolf bloodline. He made love to her and bit her in hopes that she’d get pregnant and bear a fullblooded werewolf child.

-when Vivien found out his plan, she was deeply hurt and upset. She didn’t get pregnant, and the stranger fled.

-from then on, Vivien vowed to hunt down any/all werewolves. She didn’t care she was one of them now, she would get her revenge.

FC is Mari Kurihara.

Name: Eunice Rothburn

Age: Actual age is unknown, physically is stuck at nineteen.

Gender: Female.

Middle/low/high class: Low class.

Occupation: None.

Status: Dead. Is a ghost.

Family: Jared and Ruth Rothburn (parents, dead), Enid Rothburn (older sister, dead)

Height: 4 ft, 10 inches.

Weight: Unknown.

Body type: Petite and slender; doesn’t have many noticeable curves. Is a 32 B cup.

Hair color/length/style: Sandy blond, to her mid back, usually always in a ponytail.

Skin: Light, light peach with freckles across her cheeks. Though has an odd faint green aura.

Eyes: Ash gray.

Personality:

-Eunice is a timid person, not one for much social interaction. Around others, she gets rather flustered and panicked. This doesn’t mean that she doesn’t want friends, however. She’ll try to converse in conversation, but her stuttering does grow worse when this happens, and she gets rather light headed and dizzy.

-Whenever going out into public, she always thinks someone is murmuring something about her or staring at her. She’s terrified of being the center of attention.

-She’s very anxious and is a worrywart, always worrying about something.

-She rarely gets angry. Eunice does get upset easily, though. She’s extremely sensitive.

-She has a bleeding heart. Meaning, she can empathize with others…perhaps a bit too well. If she hears a sob story, she’ll most likely burst out into tears.

Eunice is terrified of falling in love, because she’s afraid she’ll end up letting her guard down.

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual.

Powers/abilities: She has the ability to see the future. Of course, these events are not always set in stone. Eunice cannot control her ability. When she was alive, she could also see and communicate with the dead.

Other:

-Eunice has burn marks on the back of her neck and along her wrists.

-She speaks with a stutter.

-She was born during the Middle Ages.

-When she was alive, she’d wanted to be a lady. Sadly, coming from a poor family and being a castle servant, it never happened.

-She was sentenced to hang, due to being thought of as a witch. This is how she died.

-due to being a ghost, she can phase through walls and such, as well as levitate above ground and float.

Name: Eleanore “Ellie” Ainsley Alias’: ??? Age: 15 Gender: Female Birthdate/Zodiac: Unknown Occupation: Works in a small book store

Species: Human / Dragon Hybrid

Language(s): English, Gaelic, Japanese Native tongue: English Religion: Unknown Education: Was taught by private tutors until she turned ten, taught herself from then on. Blood type: Unknown Height: 5′0″ Weight: 129 lbs Eye Color: Punch pink

Eye Shape: If one were to look close enough, they’d be able to tell her eyes were shaped like a dragon’s. Her eyes do have slits, just like they do, though she… has heart shaped pupils…

Hair: Honey blonde/strawberry blonde, usually either down or up in a loose ponytail. Falls to the backs of her knees if not put up. Figure/build: Pear, also has (some) muscle mass but not much. — Distinguishing marks: -Tattoo(s): None -Scars: Some along her arms. -Piercings: None. Currently lives: Hobbies: reading, cooking, singing & dancing (though her dancing isn’t so good), painting, drawing, Archery Talents/Skills: cooking, singing, drawing, Archery Sexual Orientation: Pansexual panromantic Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous Diet: No Virgin?: Yes Drinker?: Never Smoker?: Never Drug user?: No Other addictions?: No Basic description: Personality: Kind, emotional, spunky, sassy, determined, bold Likes: her hobbies, her stuffed animals, snow, meeting new people Dislikes: being trapped, her parents Fears/Phobias: being alone Favourite quote: Doesn’t have one Family: -Parents: Charles Ainsley & Aithne Ainsley -Siblings: None -Other close relatives: Dominick Ainsley (uncle) Pet(s): None Other:

-her parents locked her away in a tower when she was only seven years old, afraid she wouldn’t be able to control her dragon DNA. She was rescued by her uncle years later.

-currently lives with her uncle in a medium sized house.

-can shift into a dragon form.

-Ellie adores fairytales.

-she’s a huge romantic.

-she has clawed hands, sharper teeth, small wings, and can breathe fire.

-because of this, tends to wear clothing that covers her hands and wings.

-has freckles!!!

FC is Alice Heart from Alice and the Nightmare. Icons were done by @cupcakeicons!!!

Name: Lucia Xylouris Alias’: ??? Age: 11 Gender: Female Birthdate/Zodiac: Unknown Occupation: Student?

Species: Human

Language(s): English, Greek Native tongue: English Religion: Unknown Blood type: Unknown Height: 4′8″ Weight: Unknown Eye Color: Green

Hair: Blonde Figure/build: Small, petite — Distinguishing marks: -Tattoo(s): None -Scars: None -Piercings: None. Currently lives: With her uncle, Mila Xylouris, and his dog Odella. Basic description: Personality: Sweet, bubbly, stubborn, determined Family: -Parents: Unknown father, Noa Xylouris (mother, deceased) -Siblings: None -Other close relatives: Hugo & Marta Xylouris (deceased), Mila Xylouris (uncle) Pet(s): None Other:

FC is Inuzuka Tsumugi.

Name: Purrsephone Clawsbury Nickname(s): Sephie, Sephone, ‘Phone, Kitty, Fangs, Pinkie

Alias: Meowlody

Age: Twenty-five Gender: Demigirl (she/her/hers pronouns) Species: Cat

Orientation: pansexual panromantic

Occupation: Assassin Unemployed

Personality: Purrsephone is a sassy feline, though she has a certain charm about her. Equipped with sarcasm, she doesn’t hesitate to put someone on blast if she feels the need to. Blunt at times and adventurous, never afraid to do something she’s never done before. Her temper needs to be put in check.

Family: [REDACTED] Likes: meeting others like her, the color pink, food (especially junk food), flowers, the night, alcohol, music Dislikes: climbing (ironically has a fear of heights), violence, getting catcalled (HA…)

Other:

-was orphaned at the age of six, and was taken in by another cat.

-was trained by him to be an assassin, and when she was fourteen, her training was complete.

-went on her first mission at age fifteen and was blinded in her left eye.

-She’s no longer an assassin, and is trying to find a job that isn’t violent.

Name: Kokoa Oshiro

Age: Unknown, physically in early twenties or so Date of Birth: Unknown Gender: Female Race/Species: Dhampir (vampire/human hybrid) Language(s): English, Japanese, French

Physical Description Height: 4′11″ Weight: Unknown

Body Type: Curvy, hourglass, thick thighs Eyes: Indigo Skin: Bronze Hair: Blue-black, shaggy, falls in waves past her shoulders

Occupation: Lingerie Model (is on the verge of quitting though to find something she actually is passionate about…)

Personality/Attributes Personality/Attitude: Kokoa is a bit temperamental and spiteful, introverted. Takes a while for her to warm up to someone but is fiercely loyal when she finally does warm up to them. Sensitive, scathing. Fears: being touched, being alone, fire Mental illness(es)/disorders: PTSD, borderline personality disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, depression Sexual Preferences: Demisexual Aromantic Place/Type of Residence: Lives in a manor Family: Tadashi Oshiro (father, vampire), Elodie Hardouin (mother, human)

Trivia:

-she was the result of a one-time affair between business man Tadashi Oshiro, a wealthy aristocratic vampire, and Elodie Hardouin, a French college student who traveled to Japan to study.

-once Kokoa was born, Tadashi gained custody of her and raised her.

-from a young age, Tadashi introduced Kokoa to his clients. He let them do unspeakable things to her as long as he got paid. And she never said anything to anyone in fear of what Tadashi would do.

-as she grew older, he managed to get her a job as a lingerie model. She despises the job and wants to quit, her co-workers are spiteful and her boss is a pervert.

-she does drink blood, but not all the time.

-she does have a heart beat but it is much slower than the average human’s. She can also blush.

-lives in a decent sized manor with human help; butlers, maids, gardeners, everything. Paid pretty well, and she also drinks from them when needed.

-isn’t searching for romance at all, doesn’t really care for the idea.

-hates her father and moved away from him when she got the chance to.

-wants to find her mother someday.

Name: Hanako Maeda Age: 23 Gender: (dmab) female Species: Vampire (born)

Ethnicity: Japanese Hair color: Incredibly dark purple, almost black Eye color: Lavender pink

Orientation: Pansexual panromantic

Occupation: Former singer, currently works at a floral shop

Personality: Hanako is introverted, oddly enough, but is willing to talk to people if spoken to first. She enjoys pleasing people and it’s difficult for her to say ‘no’ to someone, even if she ends up getting hurt in the process. Her naive nature tends to get her into trouble often, and she trusts others too easily. Parents: Atsuko and Chiyo Maeda

Siblings: Hideki Maeda (younger brother) Likes: Singing, dogs and cats, meeting new people, talking to her brother, sweets, swimming, snow, cold weather Dislikes: being teased, being a pushover, hot weather, insects, dancing (she’s convinced she has two left feet), having to drink blood

Other:

-her and her family were singers, though Hanako didn’t enter the business until she turned fourteen.

-she had gender reassignment surgery when she was just thirteen years old.

-she wants to live a semi-normal lifestyle now.

-she and her brother live together in a three bedroom place, and are trying to work to pay the bills.

#;femaleocs #;rowan rambles (ooc)#ask to tag//

0 notes

ofavrors-blog · 7 years

Text

@ofsvnflowers

it’s upon alice’s request that frank saunters into the auror department’s enormous utilitarian training facility some several minutes after his shift is officially over, the slight delay thanks entirely to moody’s latest tedious lecture on constant bloody vigilance and whatever the fuck else was so important that he had to ramble on in the most nettling of ways, gruff voice sounding just scolding and authoritarian for it to remind frank of his father, so...well, needless to say it wasn’t exactly an ideal ending to his frustratingly boring day at work. for once all he really wanted was to go home, climb into bed and shove his face against the pillows with a long miserable groan — but he’d already promised alice that they could spar. she wanted to learn some of his moves, the ones they don’t teach in her official training course. he’d agreed without hesitation because spending time with his fiancée just wasn’t something frank ever to needed to mull over for even a mere moment. in spite of working the exact same job in the exact same building, their vastly different positions kept them apart for most of the day. frank was flying through the ranks, practically collecting accolades and promotions on a weekly basis while alice worked meticulously at her training, completing each step much more slowly than he'd managed it, but then so did everyone. not since alastor moody, funnily enough, did the department choose to promote a novice who still had so much to learn. frank had simply dazzled with his talents and the rest is history — literally. he’s the ministry’s youngest auror in decades and while frank would be lying if he claimed not to be just the least bit smug about it, today the responsibility is weighing heavy on his shoulders and pounding sharply on the center of his skull. omnipresent exhaustion is sinking deeper into his bones than usual this evening, pressing down on weary joints and quietly protesting his every movement no matter how minute. yet a smile stretches uncontrollably across his lips as he steps into the training room and finds lovely, spectacular, breathtaking alice fortescue waiting for him to join her on the mats. so he does. first he shrugs out of his jacket, removing and tossing it carelessly to the floor along with his shirt and most of the gear usually strapped quite securely to his person ( wand, badge, extra knives, small pouches filled with diminutive stocks of — well, anything and everything that might be useful in an emergency ). “okay,” he finally muttered with a sigh, hastily securing lines of regulation tape wound from wrist to knuckle on each hand. then he was ready, meeting alice on the mats with a smile which, though wan, is absolutely genuine. he’s hardly seen her since this morning, catching only the briefest glimpses of soft brunette locks or a slim petite frame and now late evening was painting the sky a deep inky blue perforated by tiny shards of brilliantly gleaming crystalline stars. ( he’d halfheartedly glanced out of a window on his way to meet her here and couldn’t help but take note. ) both strangers and loved ones alike seemed to believe that alice centered frank and acted as the elusive impulse control he miraculously did not seem to possess, a task moody had unwittingly taken on with precariously varying degrees of success depending on the day. all frank knew was that he missed her terribly whenever they were apart, which undoubtedly contributed the heavy gloomy cloud looming more menacingly above his head as the hours wore on. that was the beginning and end of it for him. it was nice to be in her company again. though they hadn’t really talked much outside of frank’s very basic walkthrough of how to land an effective punch, he could feel the tension sliding slowly from stiff shoulders and smoothing out the jagged peaks of his wrinkled frontalis. being with her was a comfort — sometimes small, sometimes major, but always palpable and impossible to ignore ( which he never wanted to do anyway ). his body was still tense and weary, bones shrilly protesting the velocity of his fist careening through empty stifling air. “most of your opponents are going to be bigger than you,” frank explained, unable to keep from cracking a smile because yes, alice was indeed rather charmingly petite, “which means that you’ll want to hit like this,” he demonstrated again, brows lifted high as he met her gaze, “a straight punch. uppercuts are no good because if somebody’s way bigger than you then you’re not gonna be able to hit ‘em anywhere it’ll actually hurt — no offense.” his fists fell open, arms dropping to his sides as he grinned again and stepped around alice to stand behind her small frame. she was soft yet sturdy, radiating a pleasant warmth in spite of how the stale air in here the training facility was always so suffocatingly hot. they’d only just started and frank had hardly done anything but give some very simple instructions and bunch his hands into technically perfect fists, yet he could feel sweat collecting in his matted curls, dripping along the veined column of his neck, glistening over the slick curves and planes of his exposed torso. it was...nice, really. frank always liked working out, appreciated how it could both help him think or completely clear his head. whatever he needed. “this way you can use the reach that you do have while keeping your opponent close at the same time. what you’re looking to do is tire ‘em out so that when you’re ready...” frank could feel his breath, warm and heavy against the soft outer curve of alice’s ear, traveling hotly along the flesh left exposed by her enormous loose shirt. the soft scents of flower petals and fresh spring peaches clung to her mahogany locks, a familiar mixture he inhaled leisurely as his hands wandered slowly, fingertips laxly pressing into the curve of each hip and performing a slight correcting of her posture, which...okay, hadn’t been entirely necessary. or necessary at all. though not entirely useless, the correction was indeed very slight, probably much less palpable than the familiar warmth and solidness of alice’s body beneath his roughened palms. he wrapped a hand around the arm she was poised to punch with, directing it in a quick and powerful jab at absolutely no one. they were the only ones here, something that frank was instantly thankful for the moment it occurred to him. he wasn’t sure if he could tolerate being around anybody else at the moment. “...you can land a serious knockout. got it?” the question was so obviously an afterthought, murmured gently into the flesh connecting her neck and shoulder as he nuzzled softly against the spot, nudging her shirt aside and allowing his lips to pull lazily into another subdued smile. he’d not yet fully banished his horrible mood, but thus far this had proven to be a much more effective start than he could have ever expected it to be.

#❛ * ｡ ✴┊the changed and unchangeable. ✧ thread !#ofsvnflowers

2 notes · View notes

taintedkibou · 6 years

Link

Connor was all Markus had left. Kara, Alice, and Luther managed to successfully escape across the border to Canada. Kara had already sent three letters, updating him of their new life together. Markus was currently reading the latest one.

Good evening, Markus. I see things are still going well for you in Detroit. I thank you, Markus. I always will. Because of your peaceful protests, we secured our freedom as well.

This correspondence was to inform you that I found some familiar faces. You’ve never met them, but… I am truly happy to see them again. We’re making plans to move in together.

Markus stopped reading there, saving the message and pushing it aside. He pulled up one of the images attached, lifting his left hand to stare at the holographic display. Whether it was the human that helped them escape, Rose, or her brother—maybe even another android—someone had to have taken the image of the deviant group. Another thought easily pushed aside.

Kara was right—he hadn’t met any of her growing group, but he knew all their models. The TR400 had been introduced in previous letters, and stood behind Kara and Alice, arms wrapped protectively around both. A small amount of space separated them from the other group. Two EM400s bracketed a WR600, grins wide enough for the expressionless android. The WR looked away from the camera, but Markus could see the damage done to its hands, one being held by each EM400. He zoomed in and saw that the WR600 reciprocated the gesture, squeezing back just as tightly.

Markus clenched his hand into a fist, the image dissipating. Head bowed, he brought both arms up to curl his hands around the back of it. He’d brought so much happiness to others, losing his own in the process. Such was the burden of being the appointed leader of an android revolution. If he could go back in time and change his choices, would the outcome be any different?

Markus gritted his teeth, a choked off sound of frustration still escaping. “I’m sorry…! I wasn’t strong enough.”

xxx

Connor was finishing up his report when he received a new mail notification.

Hank's eyes were drawn to the slow, swirling yellow of Connor's LED. Before he could ask, it blinked back to blue, and the android became more relaxed. He was still going to question it. "You okay, Connor?"

The dark head tilted upward, round brown eyes focusing on the Lieutenant. "I'm fine, Hank. Why do you ask?"

"Your thing..." Hank tapped the right side of his temple.

Connor's stoic mask broke as he smiled widely. "Oh. That was Kara. She sent me a new letter. I've set it aside to read later since I have work to do. Most of the human officers here despise filing reports, yourself included," Hank grunted, dropping his eyes back to his terminal, where no work was being done, "But I find them rather enjoyable." Connor cocked his head sideways, a pout playing at his lips. "Maybe because I was made to do them. And now it's less stressful because I don't have the added fear of being decommissioned for my failure."

Hank's eyes narrowed in a glare, directed not at his tablet, but at the memory that resurfaced. Connor had told him all about Cyberlife's "Amanda" interface. In return, he shared his thoughts on the matter. "I would've deviated out of spite." He barely listened to Fowler, no way he would listen to some program in his head.

"Wanna do mine, too?" the lieutenant joked.

"Of course," came the response not a second later.

Hank glanced at the android across from him, eyebrows raised in surprise. He never expected Connor to agree. Usually his partner chastised him for slacking off.

"If you'll take care of mine tomorrow."

Tomorrow. Oh. Connor attended the android meetings Markus held once or twice a month. He used to visit more often, but Fowler started cracking down on his absences. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. Tell Markus I said hello."

"Will do, Lieutenant."

Hank's terminal lit up from its sleep state, Connor obviously accessing his files. He looked down at Connor's desk to see the android's pure white fingers pressing against the digital keyboard. Hank was more enthralled now by the android body beneath the synthetic than he had been months ago. He shook his head with a small smile, letting his partner work.

Nothing short of another revolution would distract Connor now.

—

"Time to go home."

Connor blinked rapidly, tilting his head. The lieutenant’s hand landed on his head and Hank grinned as he ruffled the perfectly kept hair. "Get up. Fowler's kicking us out early 'cause there's too much peace in Detroit right now."

"That's not quite true," Connor argued. "We still have reckless endangerment charges and other misdemeanors. And of course, Red Ice—"

"Chris and Tina take care of those. We got enough androids to help 'em out. Reed’s in charge of Red Ice cases. Let's go. " Another playful pat to Connor's head and Hank walked away. He wandered off to the break room, obviously to wait for his partner.

Connor took several moments to save and close all his files before locking his terminal for the evening. He stood from his chair, adjusted his clothes, and followed the same path Hank did. The lieutenant had a paper cup in his hand upon his arrival—a quick scan told the android it wasn't coffee—and his eyes glued on the television.

Hank tore his eyes from the television and let his gaze fall on Connor. He set the cup down onto the counter, no longer interested in it, and walked out of the break room. Hank was immediately flanked by the android. "What's fer dinner?" he questioned as they made their way out of the building.

"Tofu." Connor had Hank on a strict diet that had yet to be properly followed save for their time spent at home.

"Hell no," Hank snarled.

Connor smiled at the lieutenant. They were having tofu and that was final. Or a vegetable lasagna. That sounded better. Maybe Connor would consider adding meat to one of the layers if the lieutenant decided to play nice.

"You look creepy," Hank muttered from beside him, fishing his keys out of his pocket. The car was within sight.

Automatically, Connor's hand rose, fingers ghosting across his lips. They were stretched wide in a smile. Too wide for the gesture to seem human or "natural", but Connor was nothing if not happy. "I was thinking about you, Lieutenant."

Hank choked on his next breath. "Jesus, Connor. Don't say shit like that in public."

"We are eight feet from the car, and no one is within hearing distance. I do believe we have some privacy, Lieutenant." Connor turned to reassure the lieutenant but found himself face to face with Hank. His guard was rarely high around this human, allowing Hank to get away with certain things. Like the kiss he stole from Connor as he crossed the android’s path. “Lieutenant! You can’t chastise me about privacy and then do something like that.” Connor licked his lips, tasting the tea from earlier, before giving chase.

Hank twirled the keys around his finger, dancing away from the android and around to the opposite side of the car. Connor glared over the roof at him, but with nothing but love in his eyes, he looked like a puppy to Hank. Even Sumo looked at him with more contempt than the android. With a soft chuckle, Hank unlocked the vehicle and climbed in.

“I was going to be nice, Lieutenant,” Connor grumbled as he climbed into the passenger’s side. “I was going to make you a meat lasagna, but now you’re definitely getting tofu, with quinoa and black beans.”

“Connor, what the fuck!? No way!”

Connor snapped his seatbelt into place and stared straight ahead through the windshield. He remained silent, his hands resting atop his knees.

“It was a fuckin’ kiss,” Hank muttered beside him, angrily twisting the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered before roaring to life. “Thought you’d be happy. I don’t want tofu…”

Connor’s lips twitched, but he kept the smile at bay.

xxx

Hank shuffled out into the living room with two glasses and a half-empty bottle of whiskey. He set both down atop the table before flopping onto the sofa. Sumo lifted his head with a curious huff, only to yawn after finding his owner to be the source of the commotion. Hank ignored the dog as he searched for the remote. He checked between the cushions, even checked beneath the couch. “Connor!”

“Yes, Hank?”

“I think Sumo hid the remote again.” Another soft and proud “woof” from the dog proved he was right and Hank shook his head. “Annoying mutt. If you buried it in the yard, I swear…” Not long after he made the empty threat, the television blinked to life. The channels changed every few seconds before something caught Hank’s eye. “Stop. Thanks.”

“No problem. I’ll be there shortly.” Despite the constant orders and pleas from Hank, Connor still chose to do the housekeeping. He argued that it wasn’t in his original programming and was a nice change to the normal detective parameters. He packed up the last of the lasagna (he was a pushover when it came to Hank), made sure not a speck of dust was left in the kitchen, and finally joined Hank in the living room.

Connor tucked himself into the opposite arm of the sofa, folding his legs beneath himself. Hank noticed the soft yellow out of the corner of his eye and recalled that Kara had sent a letter. He gave the television show his attention again, leaving the android to his privacy.

Hello, Connor. How is deviancy treating you? I’ve already shared the news with Markus, but you’re more familiar with my growing family than he is.

Connor crawled the short distance across the cushions to Hank, shoving his left hand inches from the human’s face. “Hank! Ralph… The WR600 from the squat! He’s still alive. He’s safe, with Kara. That thought makes me feel… happy.”

Eyes wide, Hank grabbed Connor’s wrist, holding the other’s arm steady. He squinted at the image, realization dawning in his eyes. “Oh yeah. I remember him. How the hell did he make it across the border looking like that? Canada is android-free.”

“I’ll bring that question up with Markus tomorrow.” Connor sat back on his legs, slipping his arm from Hank’s grip. He smiled at the display on the palm of his hand. Kara looked so happy. He didn’t know the EM400s’ names, but Kara trusted them enough to stand beside her. He resumed reading the mail, his smile growing wider. Their name was Jerry.

Ralph apologizes for being harsh with you. He said he’ll do it again if he must. The Jerrys say they won’t let him.

Small talk.

This letter is an invitation. Connor, I cordially invite you to visit us when we move into our new home together. Please, bring the Lieutenant. He saved our lives as well.

Connor saved the letter after he’d finished reading, focusing his gaze on Hank’s profile.

Even without Sumo’s assistance, he knew Hank was no longer watching the television. The St. Bernard found the moving pictures far more interesting than his owner. He stood on two legs, tail wagging as he followed along. The dog’s size made it impossible for him not to block the television, but Hank said nothing. Connor smiled and sidled closer to the sofa’s other occupant. He kept his left hand close to his synthetic heart and leaned his head against Hank’s shoulder. “Sumo,” he called out. “Down, boy.”

“Maybe go fetch the remote you hid,” Hank muttered, annoyance audible in his voice.

Sumo huffed out a soft bark and lowered himself back onto all fours. Instead of completing his second task, he made his way over to the couch. Sumo ignored his human’s threat of “don’t you dare” and climbed up to join the pair. He found the smaller of the two to be more comfortable—his body was always warm—and flopped right on top of him

Connor ignored Hank’s muttering in favor of draping his left arm over Sumo’s large frame. His right hand scratched idly behind the St. Bernard’s ear and under his chin, alternating to keep the dog content. As the television mindlessly droned on—no one had any more interest for its shows, Hank soon leaned into Connor’s side. Despite being the smallest in their small group, he was still the sturdiest. Connor wanted Hank to rely on him. If this was the only way to make it happen, then so be it.

Recalling Kara’s closing statements, Connor smiled to himself. ‘He saved mine, too, Kara.’

Connor was adept at reading individuals, but unaware of the "emotion" it reflected in androids. Of course, he was still learning. Jericho’s leader just happened to be the biggest book he was unable to finish reading.

Markus was all smiles and polite, informative responses. Sometimes, when he assumed he was alone with his thoughts, Connor saw those mismatched eyes become unfocused and distant. It never lasted longer than a few moments, but it always left Connor wondering what thoughts were going through that brilliant mind.

The android detective approached his colleague and fellow freedom fighter at the end of the meeting. Markus’ face lit up in a bright smile and Connor felt his Thirium pump stutter. His artificial heart belonged to Hank, but Markus drew another emotion from him; one he could not pinpoint. He felt cold. It was easy to return the gesture, and Connor tucked his hands behind his back to keep from fidgeting with his quarter.

“Connor. Thank you for joining us today. How are things going down at the station?”

"Slowly," Connor replied. "With almost no human civilians, there is not much to do other than file noise complaints. Other than the deviants I chased, androids have yet to display acts of violence against each other." Markus' smile dimmed, and Connor experienced that unnatural ache again.

"I never meant to chase away half of Detroit's population and replace them with androids," Markus joked, the punchline falling short.

Intentional or not, that was the outcome they were now dealing with. Making another attempt at being civil, Connor brought up Kara's new letter. That empty, faraway look returned to the mismatched eyes. "I'm happy for her. I would offer my assistance, but I feel it's imperative that I stay here." Here, being the United States. "There might also be complications if I attempt to cross the border. Temperature checks have been ceased, but my face is now easily recognizable."

Connor experienced the same problem, having marched thousands upon thousands of androids through Detroit's streets while being broadcasted across the states. He offered the other a faint smile. "That answers a question I had from Hank."

Markus arched an eyebrow, silently requesting that Connor continue in explanation.

"The Lieutenant was curious about how Ralph crossed the border. The WR600 from Kara’s letter," Connor added to clarify. "With temperature checks on hold, and his LED removed, if you add gloves and a well-placed scarf, no one would bat an eye." He'd sent a reply to Kara that night, inquiring about Ralph's travels under the guise of Hank's curiousity. There was, however, the missing algorithm of his damaged optical component. Had he worn an eyepatch?

"Connor," Markus interrupted his pre-constructing thoughts. "Do you have to return to the station?"

Connor smiled, light and carefree. "I talked the Lieutenant into taking on my share of work so I could be here today. I can go back to work, but I can also stay if you need me." Being this close to the other RK model, Connor saw the minute changes anyone else would have missed. Markus's shoulders sagged in relief, in Connor's eyes. From a human's perspective, they probably barely twitched. The heterochromic gaze brightened, eyes shining bright to match a wide smile. Markus appeared more "alive" now than when he'd stood on the stage to address every android present.

"I have several documents at the house. I would like a second opinion on the subject matter." Markus slowly moved around Connor, never breaking eye contact even as he walked backwards toward the front of the remodeled church. "Will you accompany me?"

"Of course," Connor replied without hesitation. Two heads were always better than one, and he liked to believe he was well-versed in the political standpoint of the law.

"Thank you, Connor." More tension fled the android's body. "I called a cab and it should be here shortly." Markus finally turned his back on him and Connor followed quietly as they left the building.

xxx

The sun hadn't yet started to set, but it was well into the afternoon when Markus brought their private meeting to an end. A conclusion was still a thing of the future, but they were closer now. Rather than immediately escort his guest to the front door, Markus decided a tour was in order. The former deviant hunter was the first person to cross its threshold other than himself.

Markus owned the three-story building. The bottom floor was still abandoned, but he fixed up and repurposed the remaining two. He made the second floor his office and the studio apartment at the top was for other faux-human necessities. On stressful nights, he found the brightly lit landscape of Detroit to be soothing. Knowing that his people were free gave him a sense of peace. Markus currently lead his guest up the stairs to the top level.

Connor broke away immediately, making for the floor-to-ceiling windows. He pressed a hand lightly against the glass. He had to stop himself from scanning for abnormalities as far as his eyes could see. Instead, Connor enjoyed the view. He imagined it would look even better when darkness rolled in. He briefly wondered if it would look like the night view from the bridge. That thought led to another, and Connor was filing away a note to ask Hank if they could return and properly enjoy an evening there.

The android detective turned around, ready to sing praises about the location, but found the words lodged in his throat. He blinked once, twice, three times; his LED spun at a steady yellow. Markus took a step forward, concern written plainly across his face, and their eyes followed his movement. Standing around the deviant leader were the original trio of Jericho. They could be what humans called, a figment of his imagination, but Hank often times told him that he had no imagination. Were they an anomaly in his programming then?

Markus uncrossed his arms after finally reaching the frozen android, hands hesitant to touch, but hovering nearby. “Connor. Is everything alright? Should I contact Lieutenant Anderson?”

Simon’s eyes left Markus’ back and Connor could feel the iridescent gaze pinning him in place. “No,” he choked out, answering both questions.

—

Connor never thought he would ever cast a shadow in Cyberlife again. He escaped Markus fretting over him, all while trying to ignore his ghosts, and managed to snag the first cab on the curb. Once inside, he input his destination, sitting stiff and tense the whole ride there. The company still fought against the android uprising, but not as adamantly these months. Only certain floors were accessible to the androids that remained as technicians. They found sympathizers in some of the human guards and had their own security on those floors.

Connor had yet to see, hear, or even sense the Amanda interface, but was always on guard when he checked into the Zen Garden. As it was his mind palace, he reprogrammed it into something more to his liking. Gone was the rose fence—he would never tend to it. He replaced it with a shooting range. Impractical—his aim was 97% accurate—but calming; he'd noticed the decline in percentage and brushed it off as a "human flaw" that came with deviancy.

As it stood now, Connor felt he needed a full diagnostics check. He was unsure if he pre-constructed the future—something only the late Lucy could do—or reconstructed the past. Neither should be possible, and the thought that he was malfunctioning... scared him.

Lulling himself into stasis made it easier for Connor to ignore the invasive programs meant to help him. So many months he’d gone without being hooked up and suspended on a platform. He ran his own checks and was allowed free use of replacement parts at the police department.

Being in stasis also allowed memories under lock and key to roam more freely. Connor found himself chasing them, and was returned to that night at Jericho. His fingers twitched as he recalled taking Josh’s hands in his own as the android spoke his last words. A warning; Jericho was no more. Having to drag Markus to the opening in the ship’s hull while North was gunned down in the narrow hallway. After they climbed free of the water and had a moment’s time to access the situation, he learned after that Markus sustained his many wounds while trying to help fellow androids escape. The deviant leader himself was on his way to shutting down.

The technicians monitoring the RK800 grew worried as the screens they surveyed showed no errors, but they could all see the android’s stress level steadily climb higher.

The lingering images of the Jericho Three didn’t belong to Markus; they were Connor’s ghosts. Markus lost everything that night, thanks to him, and yet… he still considered Connor a friend. Why do you trust me? Connor’s hand slowly rose, fingers digging into the flesh around his pump. Bright red code began flashing before his eyes, warning him of biocomponent failure and self-destruction.

Those errors also reached the android technicians, who rushed to release him for fear that their tests were the cause. “Connor—”

“’m fine,” Connor whispered hoarsely, carefully removing his nails from his chassis. The small indentations made it difficult for his skin to recover. “I give you permission to temporarily shut me down. It will make things easier.” For all of us.

xxx

When Hank returned home that evening, the house was dark and quiet. That was never a good sign. He turned on a nearby lamp and allowed his eyes to adjust. There was a lump stretched across the couch, covered by a blanket. Sumo had fallen asleep on the floor below said lump, stirring now only because of Hank’s presence.

Whatever was bothering Connor would be revealed soon enough. These moments were rare, but were also necessary for the android to understand what it meant to be “alive”.

Hank made his way through the living room and to the kitchen. He pulled out the container of lasagna, stuck it in the microwave, and leaned against the counter as he waited for it to reheat. His gaze wandered back out to the living room and Hank huffed out a sigh, shoulders slumping. When Connor was ready, Connor would talk.

It took three days before Connor confessed his problems. His work remained impeccable, but at home, he dragged himself around the house, taking Sumo with him. Tonight was no different.

Hank was indulging in some old-fashioned reading when the android walked himself out of the kitchen and into the living room. He sank onto the cushion beside the human, lightly patting his thigh to get the dog’s attention. Hank didn’t lower his book, but he had stopped reading. After Sumo climbed into his lap, Connor slid his arms as far as they could go around the St. Bernard.

“Wanna talk about it, kid?” Hank hummed, closing the book and lowering it into his lap.

It would be so much easier to show Hank, but there have been no records of androids and humans interfacing. He searched the network and found nothing useful. He was going to have to spell it out for the man. “I can’t stop thinking about Markus.”

Hank glanced over the android’s lowered head and into the kitchen, wondering if it was too late to get a drink to go along with this story. With a soft and short sigh, he set the book onto the table and leaned back into the sofa. “What about him? Does he need help with his revolution?”

“Yes, but that’s another thought for another time.” Connor lowered his chin to the soft fur, stopping short of burying his face in it. His LED spun at a steady yellow. “He always looks so sad, and it’s my fault.”

Hank propped his head up with his hand, elbow pressed against the back of the chair. “How so? You freed so many. Hell, you saved my ass a ton of times. I’m grateful, and he should be, too.”

Connor’s lips twitched, but he couldn’t bring himself to smile. Markus was far from happy, and the only one to blame was the android sent by Cyberlife six months ago. “I… killed his friends,” he whispered against Sumo’s floppy ear. It twitched under his breath, the dog craning its neck to better see him.

“Bull!” Hank snarled, leaning as far into Connor’s personal space as the St. Bernard buffer would allow. “You never once killed an android—anybody for that matter!”

“My programming glitches and I wish I could remove every memory that makes me feel this way, but I can’t. They were all essential to my growth and deviancy.” Connor sank deeper into the darkest recesses of his mind palace. Was this the work of Amanda? Would she finally get her wish and see him decommissioned?

"Shit.” Hank screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was a feeling he knew all too well. “That's guilt, son," he sighed.

"Guilt," Connor repeated softly. It was his actions that sunk the ship only he and Markus were able to jump from that night. His pump stuttered, causing his lungs to do the same. His fingers twitched, holding tighter to the long fur, and Sumo let out a low whine, turning his head in a failed attempt to comfort the one holding him. "Hank. It hurts."

"Jesus." Hank combed his fingers through his unruly hair before dropping his arm along the back of the couch. Only in the privacy of their home could they open up to each other like this. "C'mere."

"I would have to let go of Sumo," Connor mumbled, his voice small, yet still argumentative.

Hank would swear he heard static in the android's words. "Damnit, Connor. I'm trying to give you a fuckin' hug."

Connor finally tore his gaze away from the opposite wall to the man seated beside him. Hank's glare was ever-present, but there was a softness in his eyes that called out to him. He whispered to the dog in his lap and Sumo begrudgingly abandoned his place of comfort to find a new one. Connor only had to lean close enough for the lieutenant to reach him before he was pulled against a broad chest.

With a lingering protocol of "don't you dare scan me anymore", Connor was forced to inhale and use the sensors provided to him. Hank would always smell of whiskey, but he drank less, and only in recreation. There was also a hint of the dinner prepared by the man's live-in android.

Hank said nothing. He had no words of comfort, as he suffered daily with guilt of his own. He had no idea how long their moment of silence lasted. Connor remained stiff in his arms, reminding Hank of their earlier days together. A machine. Connor was more than that, now. He experienced empathy and was currently suffering from guilt. He was more human than most.

“Hank,” Connor started, his voice slow and steady. He made a futile attempt to curl into the lieutenant’s lap. “I’ve been thinking of a way to make Markus happy.”

Hank hummed, encouraging him to continue.

“The PL600 we found at the Straford Tower meant a lot to Markus. I would like to rescue him from the clutches of the FBI.”

No matter how cute Connor made it sound—"We can't go around stealing police evidence."

Connor eased himself into an upright position and sat back on his thighs, which were framed by Hank's. "Technically—"

“Connor,” Hank groaned in warning.

"—this so-called evidence belongs to Cyberlife. Kamski is now in charge of Cyberlife, though only in name." The original creator of the Android populous refused to set foot into the towering building ever again. "Dare I say it—I think he likes me. If I tell him that PL600 is an important part of the revolution—"

“Connor, no!” The brown eyes across from him widened before narrowing into a look no android should ever be capable of making. Hank almost regrets raising his voice.

Connor looked devastated, but still willing to fight anyone standing in his way. “Lieutenant. If I told you I wanted to play Russian Roulette, would that help you understand just what I’m feeling? I went to Cyberlife a few days ago to do a complete scan because I thought my systems were failing. While I was there, my stress levels were high enough that self-destruction became a possibility. I’ve started hallucinating, Hank. This should not be a feature I’m equipped with.” The bite left Connor’s voice, and his rigid frame sagged. He folded his hands in his lap, avoiding Hank’s horrified stare to study his fingers as he wrung them together. “Maybe I’m meant to correct at least one of my mistakes.”

Hank never thought he would hear Connor reference Russian Roulette while talking about himself. He locked his arms around the slender frame and held tight. “I’m sorry,” he rumbled, the apology coming from deep within. The words were easy to utter, but it took strength to mean it. Hank meant it. He didn’t want Connor to feel this way again. He didn’t want to come back home to an empty house. He’d found loopholes in the laws he swore to uphold before, what was one more? “Do you have a plan?”

“No,” Connor admits in a soft whisper, letting his forehead fall against the lieutenant’s shoulder. “Nothing concrete. That’s why I brought the idea to your attention.”

“Okay.” Hank inhaled and exhaled deeply, chest rising and falling with Connor resting against it. “We’re obviously stealing from the FBI. How’re we gonna get away with it? Is your guy gonna be in good shape to run if we have to?”

“Dunno…”

Not the response Hank expected from a state of the art machine. But then, Connor was no longer just a machine, was he? He was probably tired, now that his emotional weight had been lifted. He slid one hand upward, tangling his fingers in the soft, tawny locks and making them unruly. Connor hummed contently against his clavicle.

“Can’t sleep here, Connor,” Hank reminded him, his fingers still combing through Connor’s hair. “Not good for my back. You were the one that fussed about it.”

With heavy limbs, Connor pushed himself away from the lieutenant, biting back a whine when Hank’s hand fell away. He gave a quick scan for Sumo before swinging his legs around and stepping off the couch. He swayed a little, causing Hank to shoot up and catch him, hands securely wrapped around his waist. Connor smiled, the curl to his lips almost reminiscent of a drunk’s. “This reminds me of that night I found you drunk, Lieutenant.”

Hank’s lips pressed into a thin line. There were moments in life he tried not to remember, but would never truly forget. He had come so close to joining Cole during that week. Androids, marching through the streets of Detroit, are what saved him. Hank wrapped Connor’s arm around his neck, holding it lightly by the wrist, and walked them both down the hallway.

Connor pulled himself free once they entered the bedroom, climbing onto the bed and crawling over to his designated side. “G’night, Hank,” was the last thing he mumbled before his LED bathed the room in an orange glow before settling back down into a soft blue. Almost as an afterthought, the android rolled over, hiding the glow against his pillow.

Hank scoffed softly as he closed the door to the room; they didn’t need Sumo’s company tonight, only sleep.

0 notes