#crack: archimedes help

[paranoidginger]

Random headcanons for the TF2 mercs!!

Scout: ADHD hardcore, should probably be medicated for it, but isn't. This man cannot stand still for anything, he is always tapping his feet or fiddling with something. He definitely bites his nails, especially his thumbs. Repressed bisexual who is accidentally homophobic because he thinks he isn't supposed to like guys, and thinks everyone chooses to like the opposite gender. He's a surprisingly good artist, and he has dyslexia. That mixed with dropping out of highschool made him somewhat illiterate, spelling is hard, and so is reading any big words.

Soldier: Jack of all trades, he has had every job possible, but if he weren't in love with going to war, he'd probably settle on properly running a raccoon sanctuary. He is the reason why Medic had to invent a cure for rabies. Definitely thinks that being a lesbian just means that you like women, regardless of gender, he refers to himself as a Lesbian after learning that Pauling Identifies as one.

Pyro: Probably not even a human, uses any and all pronouns. They're really smart, despite acting childish, and are the one who built their flamethrowers. Probably collects stickers. Would definitely watch MLP and drag the other mercs into watching it with them, Pinkie Pie is definitely their favorite of the mane six. They draw a lot, and are pretty good at it whenever they want to be, they just prefer drawing silly things. Their room probably smells like burnt plastic and gasoline.

Demo: Only goes sober whenever shit gets super, super serious, like one of the other mercenaries that he cares about gets hurt. He's got a really strong caretaking instinct that gets drowned out by drunken recklessness. He's a total lover, and definitely the type of guy to kiss the homies goodnight. It takes a LOT to actually get him drunk drunk, like, I'm talking ungodly levels of alcohol that would probably kill the average person. He's Spy's drinking buddy, and probably knows the most about Spy's background from listening to his drunken ramblings about regrets and how he wishes he was a better father. Demo probably knows a lot about most of the other mercs, just because he's a good listener and a vault whenever it comes to sensitive information. He's also really fucking smart. Probably pansexual tbh, just based on vibes.

Heavy: He gets nervous whenever he has to help out any of the more 'delicate' mercenaries. He knows he's ridiculously strong, and he has excellent control of himself, but he can't help but feel like he's handling glass whenever he's helping out any of his injured teammates, especially when it comes to Scout or Spy. He's super fucking protective of all of his team though, and would absolutely crack skulls if anything happened to any of them. He is the only person other than Medic who is allowed to touch Archimedes. Probably bisexual with a preference towards men.

Engie: He's usually pretty polite, but can be one of the most brutal out of any of the classes. He's definitely autistic with a special interest in machines. He probably wants to capture one of the mvm robots just to run tests and see if they're sentient. Low-key god complex, like, moreso than medic, he's just super humble about it. He definitely talks to all of his machines. He's 100% a trans man, I can see him as being demisexual.

Sniper: Definitely autistic, he's probably got a shitload of random animal information. Total arachnophobe, but only towards small spiders. Hand him a tarantula and he's fine, but show him a stick covered in baby spiders and he's going to probably kick it as far away from himself as possible and run away. He adores lizards of all kinds, and probably used to lay on the ground watching them all the time as a kid. This man can't use a kitchen for shit, but he manages to make anything he cooks over a fire absolutely delicious, he probably refuses to share though. Probably Asexual. Has a shitty taxidermy rat in his camper that he's unnecessarily proud of, and he probably collects bones. Super into oddities and weird little knick knacks, and he still has all of his baby teeth that he keeps in a little jar on a shelf. Can't run for shit, but could walk for hours if need be. Likes doing arts and crafts, he knits in his free time, and almost always has a sewing kit with him.

Medic: Knows a little about every different medical field, he just sort of studied up on whatever piqued his interest. DOES have a PhD in medical science, he just lost his license to legally practice in a hospital or doctor's office. Gay, probably a trans man. Has definitely experimented on himself before, giving himself different deadly diseases and whatnot just to challenge himself to make a cure before he dies. Also autistic. Spoils the fuck out of his birds, and would probably Frankenstein together a human body for Archimedes if he could figure out how.

Spy: Bisexual genderfluid icon. Usually only gets caught because he's being way too much of a cocky showoff. Definitely wears eyeliner and says that it 'helps him see better' when it's bright out, even though it's 100% just a fashion statement. Has a collection of antique cigar boxes and lighters.

[simp999]

Medic x Reader - The Red Means I Love You

Wc: 2.7k

Themes: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort(reader was feeling down beforehand)

A/N: I really haven't been writing huh,, sorry about that, guys!! I've been real busy with work n' other stuff- but I promise I still love seeing your ideas! I can't promise I'll get to them, but I still enjoy seeing them :3

Taglist: @electro-omen @skeleton-stomper-xoxo @moopy-milk @pillow-14 @emotionallyunwellmedic

Masterlist

Optional Playlist!!:

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Not again.

It's always that damned static that manages to hum itself back into your ears; almost romantically. The idea sounds so beautifully comforting; lovingly pulling you away from reality, holding you in a close embrace.

It sounds so much nicer in thought than in practice.

But as much as you can't help but zone in and out, every sound around you feels so loud yet hushed at the same time. The buzzing of the lights, the crickets outside, at one point you think you may have heard someone walk past your room to go to the kitchen, but it was just one sound among many.

You sat alone in your bed, staring blankly ahead. You couldn't make out what you were staring at, nor did you care. - It was all just a blurry mess.

But you needed a distraction. You knew that if you were to be left alone it would only get worse.

And suddenly, you were standing in front of Medic's lab. You didn't remember the slow journey there. Maybe you've walked the path so many times that you went on autopilot? That doesn't matter right now.

You can hear footsteps from inside, and a soft, muffled voice. You can't quite make out the words, but with his tone, you can assume that he's talking with his birds.

You reach out for the door handle, hesitating. Did you really need to go bug him? You'll get over it, you're sure.

What exactly is it that your body needed? You shuffled through a short list of things. You ate earlier, drank water, you got an... okay amount of sleep. Well, more than usual- which is a start.

You just needed to be in someone's presence, you think.

But not just anyone, you're sure that someone like Scout would be too energetic, and Soldier would be too loud.

You always end up right back here, don't you? Maybe it's because you feel comfortable around him? You couldn't be too sure.

You lightly shake your head, your vision continuing to stay just a bit more blurry than usual. With the blurred shapes that you know spell "laboratory" in front of you, you finally crack the door open a smidge. Then some more.

Medic was standing in front of his doves, holding his bloody finger up to Archimedes. You're assuming he'd just given him a piece of meat or maybe he was petting him. In the middle of the action, Medic tilts his head your way, opening his mouth for a greeting-but deciding against it when he does a quick once-over of your tired form. Though, a gentle smile does make its way on his face.

You slowly hobble over to an empty counter, ignoring the chair stacked with a lab coat and papers, hopping up on said countertop. You stare ahead at the body on Medic's operating table. You haphazardly analysed it. It sat lifeless, it seems it'd been that way for a while now. Well, at least you knew you and him were truly alone.

You leaned back, letting your arms hold you up. Medic silently went back to his spot beside the corpse, picking up a scalpel with a soft smile. He began to hum. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find it comforting. The buzzing of the lights surely didn't leave, but they felt less overbearing. It was also late, and Medic rarely had all of the lights on at this time, only keeping the one main one he needed for seeing the corpse with.

He could tell something was up, but he didn't want to pry- though it was nagging at him. Perhaps Archimedes could tell, or maybe it was pure luck- or maybe Archimedes saw you as someone to care for too. Soon enough he was carefully flying towards you, gently landing on your shoulder and rubbing his head up against your cheek. It became tough to hold back a small smile, and you relaxed your shoulders. You gently brought up a knuckle to very carefully pet him with. Along with whispering little nothings- most of which Medic couldn't make out, only sometimes hearing his own name.

He couldn't help but admire the sight before him. It's a good thing that the corpse in front of him was indeed just that- a corpse- or else dropping the scalpel in it probably wouldn't have been too good.

"..Hey,"

He snaps back to reality, his face warming up just a bit at how you caught him dazed- one could even say with a somewhat lovestruck expression. You weren't about to point that out though, were you?

"Why'd you stop humming?"

He.. he was humming? No- well, yes he does tend to do that a lot while working to busy himself, but you noticed? His eyes widened a bit. It's not exactly a conscious thing he does- and it doesn't help that now that he's put on the spot he can't quite come up with anything to hum.

So, he carefully sets down whatever tool he was holding and quietly makes his way over to the music player. You recognized the first song as "Bust Your Kneecaps". You giggled at how fitting it seemed to suit him. The song was so calming but morbid at the same time. He carefully adjusts the volume and begins to sway his hips as he once again as he works on the corpse in front of him. The music player sounds a bit staticky, but the music was still enjoyable.

And now it was your turn to admire him.

He sure was skilled at what he did. Even with music playing and him obviously focused on the sounds surrounding him, he nonchalantly makes such precise and careful incisions. The soft smile on his face, and the way his hair was a bit messier than usual- a given after a long day of battles. You caught the way he'd absentmindedly twirl the scalpel between his fingers before deciding where to place his next incision. The blood coating his gloves glistened,- hey, that's odd, he very rarely wore his gloves while working. May he knew you'd-? No, no, you doubted it.

You noticed the way he had a small pep in his step whenever he had to walk around- it seems his boots may be newly polished, too. His voice when he hummed or softly sang any lyrics was always so comforting too. So much so that you'd absentmindedly join in on the humming at times if you knew the song.

Which is what happened. You only noticed that your soft hums could be heard as well when you caught the way his smile grew and he glanced over at you with hope in his eyes. It was always reassuring to him when you'd slowly warm back up in the subtlest of ways. Of course he knew when you weren't doing too well, and he was always glad to help you out. Honoured, even. It made his heart warm knowing that he was your go-to person to feel comfortable and safe again, even if it just meant being in the same room as him.

It means you willingly trust him. Yes of course, people trust him with their wounds in life or death situations- but they have no choice. Yet you come to him for the most mundane of things.

He must admit, he might be catching feelings.

And there wasn't any major event that caused him to realise this- no. Actually, it was something quite small that you'd done many times before.

This must've been roughly a month ago now; he was sat at his desk, his pencil going back and forth over some paperwork at ungodly hours of the morning. Everyone at the base should have been asleep, but he should have known better as mercenaries. None of you were normal- but you all still needed rest.

Which is why he was surprised when he heard soft footsteps slowly approach him. He recognized them, of course- had he not, he would have been reaching for his bonesaw.

Your presence alone relaxed him. But then he remembered how late it was, and was about the question you on why you might be up at this hour- damn hypocrite.

But before he could, there was a small plate with snacks being placed beside his paperwork, and a hand giving his closest shoulder a small, absentminded massage.

Then, you stood behind him, slowly snaked your arms around his shoulders and slowly leaned against him- almost all of your weight. You rested your chin on top of his head and you hadn't said a word.

This meant two things: one, that you had finally accepted that you simply couldn't tell him to get to bed because it would never work, to which you had adapted. Second, you were up at this ungodly time, and the first thing on your mind was taking care of him.

The thought of asking you why you were up at this hour left his mind, instead opting to let you watch whatever he was working on. Well, as much as you could with your eyes half-lidded, sometimes closing on you.

Every so often, he'd grab a piece of the snack you had brought him. One time, he brought a piece to your lips, and you lazily ate it with a hum. From that point on, he'd eat a piece, then offer you one. Then, because he was so entranced in his work, he had forgotten about the snack. Until you gently brought a piece in front of his mouth, still wanting to take care of him.

"...You don't have to do this, you know."

You gently shook your head, leaning a bit more on him and giving him a gentle squeeze, which was enough of an answer.

And yes, he did notice the way you'd begin to lose your balance due to how tired you were. He himself would lean just enough to keep you upright when he could tell you were beginning to doze off.

That was the first night you managed to get him to go to sleep early- and that was without a single word spoken by you.

That was the night he learned he may have feelings for you. He felt a growing urge to care for you; in subtle and non-subtle ways. Of course- the mercs could tell that he'd slowly become more of a pocket Medic, that much was obvious. But he'd also watch out for you in ways he knew how to. He'd make sure to give you a proper dose of anaesthesia, always be gentle when he did anything involving you, clean his lab and equipment thoroughly before even thinking about using any on you. He never thought too much of it, either.

You began living in his presence more often too, and he appreciated it so very much- he'd never brought it up, but he did care. There were a few times where you'd swing by and he'd offered you a snack; or if you were cold, he'd offer you his labcoat.

Then he realised that he became happy when you were happy.

He never thought of himself as an empath- far from it, really. But suddenly when your mood was down, he'd find himself alone in his lab, doing what he always does. It felt like he was on autopilot, and he felt dull. But when your mood was better and you were more excitable- or even simply happier overall, he'd hum more often, and he wouldn't notice the smile that seemed to constantly spread across his lips, nor the pep in his step.

Which brings us to the present moment. You two humming along to the song. It slowly drowned out, and a new song came on, You recognized it as: "The Red Means I Love you."

Medic's lips curled up a bit, and you gently kicked your feet, his seemingly happy mood becoming contagious. You were still somewhat zoned out, now accidentally staring off into space, which just so happened to be his boots this time. And suddenly, they were right in front of you, along with an open hand blocking the view- hey, when did he remove his glove? It just have been just now, as it wasn't bloody.

You looked up to him and recognized the expectant gaze he sent your way. That warm smile on his face was what convinced you to take his hand, and he carefully guided you around with small steps.

He hummed as he gently placed a hand on the small of your back, and held your hand in his as if it were made of glass.

Once you two began moving a little quicker, he began to sing. He started out in a very quiet tone as to not startle you;

"'Cause my insides are red,

And yours are too.

And the red on my face

Is matching you~"

The two of you continued to sway along to the music, slowly becoming more comfortable, but keeping the volume low. The two of you were tired but content. Then, the reoccurring line in the song came up, and the two of you sang it together in hushed voices;

"The red means I love you~"

You couldn't help the small smile that slowly played on your lips, his was contagious. He offered you a wide grin when he noticed you looking up at him, but it quickly went back to a small, calm, and reassuring one once your eyes were elsewhere. One could even say lovestruck. Paired with a gaze that was admiring every part of you, simply glad to be right there, right now, with you. He'd take lives to be able to do this at any given time- there was nothing more perfect to him than this.

You looked so perfect to him in this very moment. Even the dishevelled hair, darkened eye bags, and slumped shoulders were to be admired. Any imperfections of your skin he found absolutely stunning- they made you unique. But with his background, he's pretty sure that telling you you had fascinating skin wouldn't come off the way he'd hoped- so he'd keep that to himself.

He longed to gently card his fingers through your messy hair, run his finger from your hair to behind your ear, along your jaw and finally tilt your chin up and admire your eyes with the warmest, most loving smile he's ever worn. To pull you a bit closer with the hand that was still resting against the small of your back, with barely any force to be noticeable.

And then he'd lean down, analyse your face for whatever emotions you may be feeling and go from there.

Now, he wasn't a shy man.

So that's what he did.

And that's where the two of you now stand.

After analysing your emotions, checking for any sort of discomfort- he tilted your chin up just enough for you and him to meet halfway.

It was a small kiss- short, sweet and loving. It could even be considered a small peck. There was nothing more to be added, enough was said- even if the only words spoken aloud tonight were mostly just lyrics.

You stood a little stunned, but that was only because you weren't quite ready to fully comprehend what had just happened.

Medic on the other hand was already pulling you into a gentle hug that had the both of you calmly swaying back and forth as he played with your hair. He gave you a small kiss on the crown of your head as you finally relaxed into him, and allowed your hands to rest on his back. Barely audible, he muttered;

"I love you, liebchen."

A gentle squeeze was offered that reassured him that you felt the same way, and you could feel his smile widen before opting to rest his chin on your head, and gently rest his hand on the back of your neck, caressing the base of it with his thumb as the two of you continued to sway together.

He looked forward to more nights like this. Nothing extravagant, just you and him, comfortable in eachother's loving presence.

.

.

.

Nov.10.23

[2frosty4you]

mercs with an s/o who’s super considerate with the lives of animals, even insects! but on the battle field they’re like a murder machine? (GN reader)

Mercs with a reader who's kind to animals but a murder machine [Hcs]

| Mercs x GN!reader | 944 words | Masterlist | Ask/Request-box |

╔═════════════════╗

Scout:

Scout watches you take out bugs from the base constantly, be it crickets or beetles they are not dying in your presence. 

You save scout from all the bugs that appear in his room from all the food he eats in his room.

But when your foot merely touches the battlefield? That good personality is thrown out the window and replaced with a bloodthirsty maniac.

Your weapons are more explosive than scouts, think demoman’s weapons.

And you just charge into the enemy crowd, you only will be stopped in your death.

Cue the 60/4 kill to death ratio you have and wave off when scout's jaw is touching the floor in shock.

He rather the more ‘kind’ version of you, at least with him.

Soldier:

Soldier is some of the same, but only to his raccoons

And you are also very soft and cuddly with his raccoons

“What animals do you like?” “My raccoons” “Soldier’s Raccoons”

Soldier and you are a force to be reckoned with.

He doesn't care what weapons you have because you both are going to paint the walls and floor red

You stop to show him a butterfly of American colours and he screams an American chant and runs into the group of enemies with his shovel high. 

He loves you even more when you offer him the head of the enemy soldier with a grin.

Pyro: 

You and Pyro both love all the insects and animals around the base, saving small ladybirds from soldier and saving scout from grasshoppers.

Pyrovision makes it so they don’t see all the gore and death you do

Pyro just skips along with their flamethrower and giggling to themselves as you scream while running into the enemy base.

You come out covered in blood with a badge you stole from a dead body and you clip it to pyro’s suspender.

To them you are just pink, with candy stuck to your side and your hair curled and turned a soft pastel pink.

Yeah, they like how you look after battles.

Engineer: 

He finds it adorable as you show him the small cricket you found in his workshop.

He’s made you a little enclosure for a lizard you found in the base, helping you clean it and care for the large enclosure.

On the battlefield when you skip back to him with a beetle you found to show him.

Then you crack open a spy’s skull as soon as you hear the de-cloak noise.

You stick around his building for a bit, scaring off the Frenchman and engie gives you a kiss before you scamper off to beat men to death.

Heavy:

Heavy is scared mostly, but also proud.

He finds it sweet how you care for all the random animals you come across, even holding up a cat you found (he does not know how you even found it)

You guys now own a very fluffy cat.

Then when his eyes meet yours on the battlefield you are bashing a medic’s head open with your melee weapon, his blood covering your front side.

Its nice knowing you can take care of yourself, but also that you aren't yearning to bash skulls in all the time.

Demoman:

Drunk out of his mind when you place a dog onto his lap

You smile and pat it as the small German shepherd barks and makes demo almost fall off his chair.

He’s gotten used to your kind nature off the battlefield, taking animals to safe spots outside the base and somehow finding a dog which was abandoned.

Demo stays out of your way during battles, as you grasp onto the face of a scout and bash it into the wall. 

He gives you a thumbs up and drinks from his scrumpy bottle. 

He loves you murder machine or not. 

Medic:

He’s proud seeing you go apeshit on the battlefield 

Tries not to mention all his baboon experiments to you, and laughs when you just grab Archimedes like a burger and the bird is just cooing happily.

You protect him during battles, no questions asked.

Heavy might be the brute force and a meat shield but you kill the spies and scouts trying to ambush him.

Hearts in his eyes when you appear covered in blood asking kindly for heals.

He pockets you a lot, you and heavy are the two he sticks to in battle,

Spy:

He’s got photos on photos of animals you've found.

Is happy knowing you can hold your own on the battlefield, but also when you saved him from the enemy soldiers, he thanks you quickly and runs off.

He loves you, but finds your methods of fighting…. barbaric. 

Spy does appreciate how you just pick up the bugs in his smoking room and race to show pyro.

Knows you can take care of yourself but sometimes he stands in your shadow and watches as you pull the heads off the soldier.

You have trinkets from the enemies you've killed and you offer them to him like a cat.

Sniper:

He takes you on camping trips, and the amount of animals you pick up and show to him is nice until he turns around to you holding a baby crocodile.

You love the birds he feeds around his camper-van and you baby the owl he cares for.

He watches you from the scope, and is grateful he isn't on the receiving end of your bullets and fists.

The way you run through enemies with medic healing you makes him just the tinge jealous.

You scare him sometimes.

The Australian knows you wouldn't hurt him but seeing you with a knife scares him.

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[mickmundy]

demoman headcanon thread! a kind anon on twitter asked if i had any thoughts on him, and since he is one of my favorite mercs... i definitely do! :-) i hope you enjoy! <3

demo is one of the most selfless of the mercs! he's smart, capable and just because he has a great sense of humor doesn't mean he's stupid! he's just as fun to party with as he is to make bombs with... either way, the chemistry is explosive!

speaking of weird science, i don't think there can be any science party without demo! he'd undoubtedly have SO much in common with medic and engineer, and would converse with them often about what they're all working on!

tavish is a great one to have around, no matter who you ask. he adjusts himself around who he's hanging out with: a rowdy night out with scout and solly? he's in! a quiet night around a campfire with engineer and sniper? of course!

quick to forgive. gah, there are other things to worry about in life! water under the bridge and so on! just don't make it a habit, lad! he's a generous spirit and isn't above settling things with a good talk... or a fight! ha!

absolutely a great listener. is able to give you honest advice, or crack a joke to lighten the mood and make you laugh! that said, he loves making people laugh. i think he likes it best when everyone's having a good time! always has a quip or a fun anecdote or story to share with people!

workaholic! but that can be said for a lot of the mercs. takes a lot of pride in what he does and takes his job very seriously! don't let his good sense of humor fool you into thinking he's unprofessional!

prefers to be the one helping, not the one needing help! i think he'd be quick to divert attention away from himself if the conversation got Too personal for him. is Reluctant to accept help, but not unwilling, and will always be grateful!

when he's comforting someone, he always seems to know the perfect balance of humor, a gentle touch, and good advice. you might have a good cry with him, but he'll make sure you leave with a laugh!

big on family/loyalty. values the team's lives as his own and will do anything he can to make himself useful! i think he and sniper became their closest after his parents died; demo checked in on him often once they returned back to the base, and sniper never forgot his kindness.

i think he loves literature! i have a running headcanon that spy, heavy, engineer and demo all meet up for a book club meeting every so often! ^_^ enjoys fiction and nonfiction pretty equally, but knows a great deal about mythology of all kinds!!

puts a lot on himself. wants to make his family proud, do right by his mom and make sure everyone is taken care of. very sensitive to the needs of those around him! he's a big softie!

i also love to think about him playing piano... him and spy love playing classical tunes together, or if he's hanging around medic, they'd absolutely make some ruckus with dueling pianos!! HEH

briefly mentioned above, but is a very talented chemist. frequently consults with sniper (natural remedies) and medic (clinical killing tips) and engineer (manmade remedies and killing tips). knows a decent amount about respawn technology and engineer's sentry technology too!

is very touchy-feely. will always greet you with a clap on the back or a tousle of the hair or a smack upside the back of your head (if you're scout!) and a jolly laugh! very warm, rough hands... he knows when to give a tender pat or a loving whack!

loves tropical birds! teaches his macaw how to talk and swear at the mercs!! calls archimedes 'archie' (to which medic gives a Frown. he names his birds with intention!)... even though ol' archie enjoys his company very much! :-)

isn't a great driver, but can sail a boat blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back (according to him)! he can drive the mercs home from a long night at the bar without a problem, but on long road trips he prefers if someone else takes the wheel... preferably sniper!

has very low spice tolerance. the other mercs have been trying to build him up over time with some decent success though! but all in all he'll always prefer the flavor of his own traditional dishes!

the other mercs have fun pranking him with really spicy foods. once he puts out the fire in his mouth, he thinks it's pretty funny and gives them credit for being able to trick him!

talks with his hands and often slams them down on the table (or his own thighs) when talking! very animated, always a joy to listen to whether he's yelling at you or laughing with you!

very social, but can also enjoy some alone time now and then. greasy food, a comfortable chair and his comfy pants are great company sometimes... with a bottle of his favorite scrumpy of course! even if he prefers to share his "quiet time" with someone else, too!

often converses with sniper and engineer about parental hangups and living up to what their families raised them to be like. they take it hard, but he loves his family, even if being a demoman isn't always easy!

demo's a liquor connoisseur, but not just for the taste! it's all about chemistry! he can taste a drink and be able to break down its composition down to the real nitty gritty... and recite it to you if you ask!

can always tell when spy cooks with wine, and exactly what type and how much! sometimes spy tries to throw him off, but tavish's instinct is never wrong! can taste something and break down the exact makeup of it, which spy and heavy appreciate when they cook!

[landsharkbite]

In the lobby of one apartment building in Archimedes and sometime in the last hour or so, a pattern has emerged around the incoming foot traffic. A resident would enter through the double doors, stroll to the closest elevator, punch the button and wait for it to open only to very quickly back away from what waited inside. They’d change course all but immediately, rushing to try their luck at the only other lift available which would invariably respond at one tenth of a snail's pace. Not many residents would be willing to challenge the marathon of a stairwell, not in this tall an edifice.

Were the very bored-looking concierge paying more attention (god forbid they look up from their monthly edition of Radiale’s Digest), they might do their due diligence and at least try to tell off the party responsible— namely you.

Ever since the cabbie picked you up at the edge of that unnerving crater in the center of town (it had to be artificial, you know from experience that no natural excavation is that uniform) you’ve been in what you can only describe as a fugue state, swimming through fog enough in your head to fill a valley. The man dropped you off in the pristine parking lot out front, told you to pick up your key at the desk, and after you stepped out into the sun he drove away, seeming somehow bored of the entire affair. Such a bizarre, trivial thing, but your brain can’t help but latch onto it. Why didn’t he seem surprised to see you?

Your confusion mainly stems from having seen that the vast majority of pedestrians you passed by on the ride here were human, or they seemed human. There are those like you who pass among them (you count a few among your acquaintances) but you didn’t see any telltale cautious head-swiveling in the crowds to fit the bill. You don’t remember being exactly welcomed among humans before, nor do you recall ever clamoring to be. Did you crack your head falling off the wagon somehow and lose time to the ether? When did that change?

The concierge handed you an impressive, ornate key, told you in a sleepy voice to take it to the top floor and went back to their reading material. It sounded like a prank. You’ve never been summoned to the top floor of fancy building like this save for when you were to be reprimanded by a superior.

The glass exterior of the elevator would soon show you a sprawling landscape of the ward, dotted with sparkling buildings of whites and off-whites in stark contrast to what you assume are three other wards of different cultural and architectural climates. You're struck by the sight... until your gaze drifts to focus on the lines of your reflection in the glass, made faint with blazing sunlight.

It takes a moment. Something is wrong. You freeze, then all at once you can't shed your jacket fast enough to confirm your suspicion. It's your arm.

Where the hell is your arm.

Panic cut through the cloud in your skull like a hot knife through butter and dropped you like a ton of bricks— you've been glued to the carpet since, pale with a pounding heart and a stomach twisted into knots. No matter how many times gravity shifts with the elevator's demands or the door slides open to welcome ultimately no one, you're too weighed down in your stupor to move. No wonder frustration is mounting on the ground floor. But you can't bring yourself to care, not when you've been beaten over the brow with a unknowable jigsaw puzzle and only a scant handful of pieces with which to put it together.

What are you forgetting? How long have you been here? What about your work? Just how much time are you missing? Are there any other body parts of yours scattered over this city that you don't know about?

You wither and shake your head, staring at your unnatural set digits as if they would up and spill their secrets all at once if you glared at them hard enough.

“What the fuck is going on?!”

Your head spinning, you finally drag yourself up and out of the lift once and for all— but not before quickly smashing your palms over each and every button on the directory panel in a petty fit of pique.

[isolaradiale]

Every second spent within those worlds returns only the brightest flickers of hope, data itself compiling in their favor. Those questioning the validity of it all only serves to prove so, whether or not they enjoyed their time within those worlds or not, while others might have sought to merely accept it all. Until the note of a particular spike in data, the slightest surge that would soon act as the breaking of the dam which begins to flood through the entire city without relent.

It starts momentarily as a flower blossoming in the sidewalk of Archimedes, one from a distant world that shouldn't be native to the island. And then a building shifts, taking on the form of a prominent structure belonging to another, each structure slowly beginning to be overridden by terrain and scenery that should not belong. It was concerning... and yet the green eyes of Star observing couldn't help but spark with a certain joy at it.

"Wait, what's happening?"

"Ugh. Don't tell me it's another virus—"

"No, no, nothing like that. Actually it seems like it's rather good news... for our work, at least. Not so much for the city or our lovely subjects' little worlds. Though I think there's a way to tend to that without us having to do too much."

At least in the eyes of Pleaides, what she witnesses can only be a sign of rousing success, causing her to dart from her seat to a scanning device. A few inputs is all it takes before it scans her figure, the smile on her face far more delighted than it should be.

"Anyone else care to come along and see for themselves?"

Few glance between them before Solaris steps forward first, taking the initiative as well in joining on the venture to the city they watch over. Orion follows soon after, as well as Taygeta accompanied with Mimosa, too. Even more stand up, the glances between Lyra, Alathfar, and Caelum all in agreeance to join. And before long, their very bodies were projected into the overridden city, parting their ways to inspect it all. Flowers so real that one could not call them fake, with wafting scents from a bakery that only a distant galaxy could call its one and only. She steps forward, basking in the success of their work, before turning to see those few swept up in it all, cordial as ever in addressing them despite her distant disposition.

"I'm glad to be the first one to tell you all congratulations, my darling subjects. After all, you're the ones that have made this all become a reality. Well, even if this particular part of it was unexpected."

Any who attempted to attack would be met with no victory, their frames holographically glitched with every attempt, continuing to stand unmarred.

"That being said, what you see now is rather concerning. Due to many of you not quite settling back into that life of yours as if it were nothing, far more than we expected in this outcome, it would seem that your worlds have started to try and take over the city itself as a manifestation of that collective will of yours. I'd like to say it's not an issue, but that'd be a pretty big lie."

Adjusting her glasses, she turns to glance at a cracked point, one where a world has slowly begun to leak through, corrupting the city slowly with its unique existence. "Once a world has fully poured into this one, let's just say that it will cease to exist as a place you can return to. Simple, no? But this city is also under a direct threat because of that. If too much of your worlds fully corrupt here, everything you know will become a conglomerate before it overrides itself, including you, unless these points are sealed off completely to halt the override. Any method will do so long as it's closed off," she continues, shrugging her shoulders soon after.

"Of course you can choose not to believe me and do nothing. Feel free to go right back to your worlds if it pleases you. But if that comes to pass, well... I guess you'll see if I was lying or not, won't you?"

She smiles, turning once more to inspect the encroaching world as if it were naught but a research topic before speaking one last time to those present.

"Until then, I hope you understand our request and think about it. And as always, the Stars will always be watching over you..."

SO WHAT'S GOING ON?

Compared to the first part where people were sent back to their worlds without a way back, now the worlds are... creeping right back into Spirale in a pretty frightening way! It's nothing like how the Garden of Ash has some native flowers or the Star Trail has local cuisines and ingredients. Rather, it's acting like creeping vines slowly overriding the city itself due to everything with the threat of consuming it all in an overload of collective data from your worlds.

That being said, places on the island may now start to look exactly like your worlds and take on the world's properties while it's still very much the island you've been kept on all this time. Maybe the street your home is on now suddenly has taken up its space in one of the housing districts, house and all? Or perhaps the ocean has started to become boiling hot or snowfields ice over the ground if your world had such things. Terrain can also mix and match, so maybe one instance you're walking in a stretch of ruins only to then walk directly into a lush field of beautiful flowers. Weather from your worlds also happens as it would there, as well as the fauna beginning to invade in many areas, whether they're benign or malicious to people or the environment.

Basically the world (Spirale and all the others!) is your oyster to play with this as you'd like! Just remember that only worlds present on the masterlist will be invading the island and anything that might get too invasive with people learning some world lore that isn't their own should be discussed with the proper muns beforehand!

CAN WE STILL GO BACK TO OUR WORLDS?

You absolutely can! There are entry points where the worlds have breached through that can warp you back to your world as it leaks into Spirale itself. You can come and go freely, as that world will also have a warp entry point in several places to flow back to and fro, so you're free to world hop as you'd like and experience things this way.

Likewise, your characters can naturally have returned back to Spirale to see what's going on currently or have been forcibly returned due to what's happening, so choose however you'd see fit to have them become aware of the situation if you choose to have them become aware at all!

WHAT DO THE PORTALS LOOK LIKE?

Basically they look like little hovering warp points that are scattered around with glimpses of the world that is leaking from them! So you can tell which world it is easily and know that's one of the points that need to be closed off.

HOW CAN MY CHARACTERS SEAL THE PORTALS?

The sky is the limit. There are several access points for each world that must be either sealed off in some means, whether that be breaking it with force to collapse in on itself or another way of magic or creativity. So long as you feel it could suffice in working, no matter how dire or silly it might be, you're welcome to use that as a way to stop the points that are leaking.

DO MY CHARACTERS HAVE TO HELP?

Nope. They don't have to do anything they don't want to. If they wanted to go back to their world with a pair of sunglasses and a mimosa while kicking back on the beach, they can do just that. It's also a note that they've been told that sealing off their worlds to halt the takeover will once again trap them on Radial Island for who knows how long, meaning you're also welcome to have them try to stop others from cutting off entry points to the various worlds. Whether your characters believe the Stars or not about the impending consequence of what happens, they weren't present to hear the announcement at all, or otherwise, you're free to dictate how they handle it how you think they would!

WHAT IF MY CHARACTER DECIDES TO STAY IN THEIR WORLD UNTIL THE END?

Once the event is over, every character will be returned to Spirale as it once was without exception. But at least you got to enjoy a little vacation time in your world again until that moment, right?

ARE WE STILL FULLY UNLOCKED?

Yes! Your characters still have all of their powers unlocked during this portion of the event, so feel free to go ham in taking down monsters that have come in or any way you'd like to go about sealing the worlds in the way they feel suitable.

WAIT, ARE SOME STARS DOWN IN THE CITY?

As holograms of their figures, yes! Some, if not nearly all, have gone down to check out the results and ongoing situation for whatever their reasons may be. You can see them here and there and can reference them in your posts, if you'd like! Just remember that they can't be hurt or damaged given the nature of their presence being more holographic.

CAN WE STILL WRITE PART ONE STARTERS AND THINGS?

Of course. You're welcome to make any part one starters as if part one is still going on even during part two and to continue it on. You're also welcome to transition any part one threads into part two as you see fit!

WHEN'S THE ENDING OF THE EVENT AGAIN?

The event will run until DECEMBER 1ST AT 11:59:59PM EST. This may differ from the first event ending date you saw in the first post as the event was mistakenly listed to run only two weeks instead of three, so we apologize for that and want to reiterate that this is the proper ending date! Until then, feel free to make any starters from any part as you like through that date.

[pigeonwhumps]

Secrets revealed

MD-264N masterlist

Febuwhump day 6: secrets revealed

Rhian and Blue have an argument, and Morgan overhears.

1.4k

CWs: dehumanisation, self-dehumanisation, fear/expectation of death, mentioned child abuse

Blue's sipping his coffee when Rhian enters the kitchen.

"Hi."

"Good morning. How's… Morgan doing?"

Rhian pops a couple of slices of bread in the toaster and leans back against the counter. Blue sounds incredibly awkward, but at least he's trying. "Not too bad. I'm taking them out to see the sky later."

Blue nods. "I won't stop you from taking it out if Asim permits it, but be careful. It's still dangerous."

"They," says Rhian sharply. "They, not it, until they can decide for themself what they want to use. And they're not dangerous, not to me."

"They held a knife to your throat. They're still a weapon, Rhian. They've hurt people."

"Not by choice. You're a hypocrite, you know that? You worked in that government-funded lab for years, you created so much technology for them. The trackers that can locate us to our very building, the implant restraints that the Ministry of Justice puts in all of their prisoners. Hell, you helped invent so much of the stuff that hurt me and so many others, and I know you left for a reason, I respect you for blowing up the lab when you did, but damn, Blue. You can't call Morgan dangerous when the harm your technology did is incalculable. At least Morgan had to be brainwashed first."

Blue sets his cup down a little too hard, rocking back on his heels. "I've tried to make up for it. Are you really still so angry? I get it if you hate me, I–"

"No. I didn't mean to be so harsh, that wasn't what I meant. God, you were brainwashed too, or close to it. I just… I managed to trust you. Can you at least give Morgan a chance?"

Rhian regrets their earlier outburst as Blue swallows visibly. They know he's trying his best, but sometimes it's still hard.

"You're sure they're not a government agent?"

"If they were a government agent they'd have left their room before now. We're only going as far as the flat part of the roof anyway, you can keep an eye on us if you like."

"Why the roof?" asks Blue, mostly out of curiosity now, Rhian thinks.

"I asked why they ran, and they said they wanted to see the sky again before they were decommissioned. So I'm going to show it to them."

Blue nods, both of them pretending not to notice the way Rhian's voice cracks halfway through the first sentence. "If you truly believe they don't mean any harm, I trust your judgement. That doesn't mean I trust them, but… I guess they haven't hurt you yet."

"Thank you. I really don't hate you, you know? You're a bit annoying sometimes, but you're family. You built my arm. Don't want you thinking I hate you." God, Rhian would never want that. Blue nods. "Good. Good."

Blue leaves the room as Rhian smothers Morgan's stone-cold toast in jam, just butter for themself. He's probably going to set up his space in the loft.

As much as Blue's dismissal of Morgan as dangerous bites at Rhian, she knows where it comes from. This is the first real home he's had in a long time, and he knows better than most what the government's capable of when they put their mind to it. She doesn't like it but she understands.

Morgan's door is slightly open when Rhian makes it upstairs, and she nudges it with her foot. Morgan's sitting hunched on the bed, Archimedes in their arms, tears streaming down their face. She hurries over.

"Morgan? Hey sweetheart, what's wrong?" They weren't like this when she left, or she wouldn't have. What can have happened in that…

Oh.

Oh, of course.

"Did you overhear us?" they ask gently, and Morgan nods. "Oh, sweetheart."

"I, it, it, this weapon is sorry. It did not mean to hear."

"Shh, it's okay. We weren't exactly making much of an effort to stay quiet. You did nothing wrong. Will you take the plates?"

Morgan lifts the small stack off her hand. "This weapon didn't mean to cause conflict. It doesn't need to go outside. It is still dangerous, it is a weapon, it doesn't need any indulgences."

"Sweetheart, seeing the sky isn't much of an indulgence. It's nice on the roof. But that's not it, is it, what's making you cry?"

Morgan swallows visibly and shrinks into themself, assuming the straight-backed, neutral position that's their default around Asim, and presumably Blue if he ever meets them properly. Anyone who's not her or Asha. It hurts Rhian's heart to see, and she sits down next to them, squeezing their hand.

"Did Blue really work for the government? Is he going to return or decommission this weapon? This weapon doesn't wish to be ungrateful, it just– it– I–"

They cut off, eyes welling with tears.

"In a way he did, yes. His lab was funded by them. But it wasn't exactly his fault. When he was twelve, he was flagged as a genius on a standardised test and taken away to a special school, run by the government. I don't know how much you know about them, but from what I can gather the teaching – training, really, indoctrinating – was harsh. He hasn't seen his family since he was twelve. He also, as you just heard, did manage to leave and blew his whole lab up with him. He won't hurt you, Morgan, I promise. He's protective of us, but that doesn't mean he'll hurt you. And he certainly won't hand you over to the government. Okay?" Morgan nods. "The toast is already stone-cold I'm afraid, so shall we take it outside with us?"

Morgan gives a ghost of a smile and stands, helping Rhian move the bed away from the window. She opens it as wide as it'll go and steps out onto the roof of the extension.

"Pass me the blanket and come on out here."

Morgan obeys, looking around with something approximating wonder on their face. Rhian spreads the blanket with Morgan's help and tugs them down to sit against the wall with her.

"How long am I allowed to stay out here, Rhian?"

"As long as you like. And this isn't a one-time only offer, either, you can come out whenever you like." Morgan seems to relax at that, and Rhian squeezes their shoulders. "Oh, sweetheart. We're not going to keep you imprisoned inside all the time. You're not a prisoner."

"This weapon isn't going to be decommissioned?" Morgan whispers, eyes on the skyline, rubbing circles into one of Archimedes' rougher patches, and Rhian's heart lurches.

"No, of course not, what makes you think– oh."

Oh, of course.

"Although this weapon does not have wishes, it wished to see the sky before it was decommissioned. It is sorry for wanting things it doesn't need."

Rhian feels a pang in their chest. Such a simple wish, and yet they're so conditioned that they're scared to want even that.

"I'll take you outside. Today, in fact." Morgan's stomach rumbles loudly. "Just let me fetch you some food first."

It wasn't just Blue making them cry, and Rhian's not sure how they didn't notice just how tense Morgan is, even more so than usual when they're alone together.

"No, sweetheart. I'm sorry, I never meant to make you think that we'd kill you. You being outside now has no correlation with your death. I promise."

"You promise?" they whisper, clapping a hand to their mouth in horror afterwards.

"I promise. We're never going to hurt you. You're not being decommissioned, and you won't be… corrected for speaking. Let me give you a hug?"

Morgan nods, tucking themself into Rhian's side. They're so small and traumatised. There's fuzz growing on top of their head, and Rhian wonders if they'll let her dye it green once it's longer. Then she inexplicably feels guilty for thinking that.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"This weapon shouldn't have leaked. It was an aberration. Weapons that are no longer useful should be decommissioned, it knows that. You do not need to apologise to a weapon, it is sorry."

"Hey. Your usefulness doesn't determine your value, yeah? And we'll never get rid of you." She strokes the top of their head. "What do you think of the sky then?"

Morgan tilts their head back further, staring upwards into the scudding grey clouds.

"It's beautiful."

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Howdy!! How about some platonic headcanons for TF2 Medic? I just really wanna hug him and infodump to him fr fr JENDJDHDHDHB :3

Platonic HCS w/ TF2 Medic

You're so valid! SO valid. If I wouldn't be afraid of their stupid bullshit resulting in an early death for me, I'd totally want them as a big family.

TW: Death, medical gore

Klaus (red)

Klaus plays around way too much for a man in charge of medical care. Making jokes as he handles organs, using his temporarily dead teammates like a sock puppet during surgery, replicating things like their teeth and then displaying them... it's all very morbid.

He'd probably let you do surgery under his guidance if you wanted! Think of it like bonding! He's sure Scout won't mind. And even if he did... eh.

Hopefully, you don't mind super unsanitary hugs with a lot of blood! If you encourage hugging, he will forget to change his clothing and greet you with a squish! Between him and Heavy, you'll be filthy and your back feels like a cracked glow stick. It's affection.

He doesn't always understand the info you're dumping on him, but he definitely listens with rapt attention... As long as you're prepared for his practically unhinged ramblings on medical procedures that absolutely should not be performed on people. Why he doesn't have a license, silly things like that. You'd give him a license, right? Right.

Sometimes as his friend, you might have to help find Archimedes. For whatever reason, Klaus's dove has this penchant for burying himself into patient's body cavities. It is what it is. Like his owner, the bird loves giving affection while he's still covered in viscera. You might as well start wearing scrubs whenever you're coming to visit your friend.

His other doves surround you on your shoulders when you come by. Not as tall as Heavy, but still a nice perch!

One way you notice his care for you is how he fusses about your health. You aren't like the team, you know. You won't just respawn if something bad were to happen. Better let him check you out if you're ever feeling poorly! That being said, wouldn't recommend it given his... alternative methods for fixing things, sometimes.

Ludwig (blu)

He doesn't take his work much more seriously than his red team counterpart. However, he seems to have this odd fascination with death and "true death." He's not suicidal or anything like that, just. Sometimes he'll wax poetic a little too often about how exciting it'll be when he finally reaches his end. He looks at you with affection that one day you might die and he can hold a ceremony.

He wouldn't let you do surgery per say, but he'd be down to let you assist and hand him tools as you tell him all about your hyperfixations. Spy might be on this table for hours, it's fine!

He's a little more mindful of the bloodstained hugs than Klaus. While he doesn't mind aseptic technique the way he should, he does recognize you could get sick if he doesn't change and he doesn't want that to happen to his little friend! If you got REALLY sick, he'd have to install that little respawn chip all of them have and it's not... pleasant.

Do you like reading? Does he have a collection of books for you! Old ones, some quite rare. If you ask where he found them, he just smiles. He's traveled the world, you know! He totally stole them.

Once the two of you are really close, he'll even let you help him give Archimedes his "bath" aka a little water spritzer hose that the dove likes to dance in. He still likes being pristine and clean outside of his owner's work, being a former wedding dove and all.

Archimedes bugs you for treats because he thinks you can convince Ludwig to hand over the goods. The other doves have started doing it, too. They all coo in unison when you enter the room.

[emotionally-destroyed-soldier]

February 14th.

Stayed in this evening and ordered a pizza. Maybe not the most romantic valentine's dinner, but seeing as I can't cook and it'd probably be too risky to go somewhere I might be recognized, it can't really be helped. I don't think Fritz minds. After what he's been through I think he's glad to avoid a lot of excitement. He deserves something more romantic than pizza delivery, though. Maybe next year. But then, I think we both might be thinking, even if we try not to, about the fact that this isn't just Valentine's day. It seems like forever ago now. It could've happened in a whole other damn lifetime, on another planet. But there were popping streamers and noisemakers. Barbecue (Engie did that) and cake (Heavy did that. Pyro helped with the candles because of course he did.) It was the last time I saw Wolfie happy. Really happy, not a mask hiding something he wouldn't tell me about, not a mask like Spy's was but one made out of porcelain, getting more and more cracked every time I saw it. Cheer up, Doe. He always said that if I even started to say something. Don't worry so much. I mean he had bad dreams. He spent the night with me more often than I think anyone knows to this day. I think we both slept better like that because we were protecting each other, just like we'd promised. I thought they were about the war because that's what mine were always about and why would they be about anything else? That boyish sparkle in his eyes when he blow out those candles, like a kid surrounded by friends. Just turned 31, the world should've been his goddamn oyster and if I just stop my memory there... I really believed it could've been. That once this gig was over, Wolfgang Stahl and his crazy stupid luck would go on to be a world-beater. And I think... it's not fair. I can't do anything but fight. I mean I can fight and apparently help solve crimes but then, when I was actually me and not an altered copy of myself (jesus christ that will never not be weird to think about), that's all I could do. I was in a really dark place between the war and the job because I didn't have a fucking clue what to do with myself if I wasn't in the trenches. No reason to think it wouldn't be more of the same after. I didn't have that potential for a bright future, not like him. So why didn't the fucking machine hate me? Why'd he have to suffer so bad while I always went through fine, more or less? Nothing I haven't asked myself before. I could death spiral on these questions. But I'm trying hard. Things are a little bit better. I can look at his picture where I couldn't before. If I try real hard, I can think of h im and cut myself off before I start thinking of how it all ended. I can think of that Febuary day, him laughing with my hand on his shoulder, Archimedes pecking at the cake, even Fritz with a grin on his face. I wish I still had that picture. Not as much as I wish I still had him, but... damn, I wish I still had that picture.

[moorheadthanyoucanhandle]

DIAL, THOUGH YOUR HEART IS ACHING...

Opening this weekend:

Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny--The first sound we hear is the ticking of a clock. Thus the fifth and valedictory entry in the series about Harrison Ford's globetrotting, whip-cracking archaeologist establishes Time, and its persistent shadow, Mortality, as the theme.

The movie starts with a lengthy and rather splendid act set in France in 1944, with Ford made young via some impressive CGI alchemy. Indy and a brilliant sidekick (Toby Jones) are snooping around a mountain stronghold, trying to filch back some artifacts from the plunder of retreating Nazis, among them a coldly businesslike SS Colonel (Thomas Kretschman) and a reptilian physicist (Mads Mikkelsen) who identifies the title gadget, a clockwork contraption built by Archimedes himself that supposedly can be used for time travel.

From here we fast forward to New York in the late '60s, where Indy is a grumpy and bereaved old man on the verge of retirement from teaching, separated from his beloved Marion, annoyed by the Beatles blasting from the hippie pad neighboring his cluttered apartment. His goddaughter Helena (Phoebe Waller-Bridge), who he affectionately refers to as "Wombat," pulls him into one more adventure, chasing the Dial from Tangiers to the floor of the Mediterranean to Sicily. The unrepentant Nazi prof, who went on to help NASA get to the moon, is looking for the Dial too, with his murderous goons.

The first Indy flick, 1981's Raiders of the Lost Ark, is a favorite of mine; tight and witty and curiously modest, it genuinely felt like a Republic serial of the '40s, maybe directed by William Witney. It was also built around a terrific Jewish joke, with its Nazis arrogantly supposing they could co-opt cosmic Jewish power unscathed. The lavish, overstuffed sequels were enjoyable enough, but all of them fell far short, for me, of that snappy, surefooted original.

Dial of Destiny falls short of the original too, but even so it may be the best of the sequels. It's the first that Steven Spielberg didn't direct; the duties here went to the always proficient James Mangold, who was also among the many screenwriters. And for the first half--the 1944 scenes, and the stuff in '60s-era New York, with Indy on the run against the backdrop of war protestors and astronaut ticker-tape parades--it's sensational.

The trouble is that, like so many contemporary blockbusters, it's outrageously overlong, at least thirty or forty minutes longer than it really needs to be. As MacGuffins go, the Dial doesn't have the same stirring imaginative power and poetry as the Ark, and its implications get the narrative in a little over its head in the later acts. For a story that starts with urgent ticking, the movie manages time very poorly.

Still, there's a lot to like here. Ford is wonderfully on point. He seems to have grown into the curmudgeonly manner that's always been part of his persona, but he's also emotionally present to a surprising degree, truly connecting with the other characters. Mikkelsen is a top-notch, quietly megalomaniacal villain, and Toby Jones, Antonio Banderas and John Rhys-Davies could all have warranted more screen time as Indy's allies, as could Shaunette Renée Wilson as an exasperated U.S. intelligence agent. Ethann Isidore is likable as Helena's street urchin pal.

Maybe best of all is Waller-Bridge's Helena--headlong, fearless, smiling, eyes full of self-delighted mischief. She even shows a hint or two of lewdness, welcome in this largely asexual series. It would be okay with me if they gave her more movies.

Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken--At the very least, one must admit that this is a take on teen angst we haven't seen before. Ruby and her family are Krakens, the fearsome tentacled sea creatures of Nordic lore, but they're passing themselves off as humans; Ruby's Mom has a good career as a realtor in a seaside town. Ruby is under orders never to get wet in the ocean, lest her giant Kraken-ness be revealed to her classmates. This means she's forbidden to go to prom, as it's being held on a boat.

Soon enough Ruby (voiced by Lana Condor) learns that her Mom (Toni Collette) and her Grandma (Jane Fonda) are giant Kraken as well, and their backstory includes a feud with the mermaids. Indeed, the story is sort of The Little Mermaid in reverse, with many of the same psychological and sexual subtexts at work. And like an earlier DreamWorks Animation effort, Shrek, the snarky shots at Disney are amusing, in an inside-baseball way.

This movie has a glitzy, primary-color sensibility, like a fever dream after bingeing on My Little Pony and Powerpuff Girls and eating too much cioppino. And it feels about that ephemeral. But it's a sweet-natured fish tale, and undeniably original.

[arthurjr]

ooc: he’s a 10 but he murdered his father

[doobnnoob-tf2]

prompt: how do the Mercs act when they get flustered or embarrassed?

Scout: Turns BRIGHT red, stammers a lot, voice cracks a little, gets very animated and loud, laughs nervously often, might get a little irritated and storm off.

Soldier: Gets very quiet, tenses up, huffs a lot and folds his arms, acts a little childish, goes and works out or runs laps to get over it, may also consult his shovel about how he’s feeling.

Pyro: Doesn’t get embarrassed or flustered.

Demoman: Will go to his room to make his bombs, curses and small explosions can be heard followed by more soft cursing, gets fidgety, will try to get over it as fast as he can.

Heavy: Isn’t easy to embarrass or fluster, but turns a little pink in the face and constantly looks away, might slip back and forth between Russian and English if he starts talking, tries to recover from it quickly though.

Engineer: Hides in his workshop to fiddle with things, reorganizes everything five or six times, cleans a lot, may even cook to help him take his mind off it, plays random little things on his guitar but constantly stops and huffs and starts over.

Medic: Constantly taking his glasses off to clean them, avoids eyes contact, gets a bit curt, will write nonsense formulas down in his lab, talks to his doves a lot in German especially Archimedes, gets a little jumpy.

Sniper: Ears turn pink, accent gets super thick, mumbles and stammers, pulls his hat down over his face, voice might go up an octave or two if he’s really embarrassed, hides away in his van, takes apart his rifle and cleans it a few times or sharpens his knives.

Spy: Acts like he’s calm and collected, actually gets a little pissy because how DARE someone fluster him?!, if he gets worked up enough he’ll switch between several languages, storms off to gripe and fume in his smoking room, constantly has a cigarette lit but might not actually smoke it.

[mistertf2xreaderfluffballcake]

Hey! I love this blog so much. I was wondering if you could do kissing headcanons for each of the mercs? Any kind of kiss too! I hope you're doing well :)

Oh yes! I knew this day would come! I think I am prepared to write this (���-`ω-) I think. damn...kissing...Just be warned. Some might be short some will be long. Sorry I just feel so tired today so yeah need a bit of a break. My back hurts...*crack* (like the sound you hear when you crack a glowstick) I am now glowing! yey. (wtf is wrong with me lmao)

Scout

Oh, this fast boy, his kisses are random. Just like rolling dice. You don't know what kind of kiss you will get. He sometimes does surprise kisses, little pecks, a whole ass kiss you really don't know. His favorite is quick and unexpecting kisses. Your face of shock is so cute! Oh! Then guess what Lisa! He- *surprise kiss out of nowhere* Hehe love ya babe! *dashes to somewhere else* *s/o freezes* ??? Haha, s/o your face is bright red. Oh shut up Lisa.

Soldier

This soldier is...hmmm, it is rough. Yeah, like the vibe is soft but the way it feels is rough...in a way but don't at the same, idk. He kisses you wherever he feels like it. Public or private he does not care. Oh, you're talking to scout? nope. I think he instead enjoys it a little when he does kisses in public. To him, it is the universal sign of HEY MAGGOTS! THIS CUPCAKE IS MINE!! Soldier... *sign and blush* Ew what the fuck. (←scout) lmao

Pyro

It is random, but not as random as scout tho. They give you little pecks with their mask very often. You are cooking? *little peck* You are cleaning your weapon? *little peck* You killing the enemy on the battlefield? *Little peck* He does it whenever. Its so cute! *little peck* Aww thanks pyro! *you give back a peck too* !? Blushes like crazy while jumping up and down. Mmmph!! :))

Engineer

Soft. It is so soft help. You will melt. He would just suddenly kiss you while you are cleaning your weapon. *soft kiss* !? Hehe, your cute reaction never gets boring. He likes to keep it private but! If he feels playful he will unexpectedly suddenly kiss you. Sneaky Texan man mode: ON. Another thing is that he loves is cheek kisses. Hell yeah, quick and easy. He likes to boop your nose after the kiss.

Heavy

His kisses are soft, very very gentle. He will do it at the right moment instead of doing it randomly/unexpectedly. It is perfect. You two were chilling in his room, he then just cupped your face and kissed you gently. Heavy loves s/o :)). AWWW Me too heavy *you kiss him back* He also likes to pat your head while kissing :))).

Demoman

Sloppy kiss. (nothing bad about them) He will surprise kiss you a lot. Hey s/o look behind you. *surprise lip kiss* W-What!? Hehe, I gotcha ya! He is so cheeky. He is such a cheeky little one. Suprise kisses everywhere. lol. Both public and private! Your blushing face is just so dang cute. He will surprise kiss you even during battle! S/o! Look! Hmm? *surprise kiss yet again* Hehe, sorry just needed a recharge! Lord help my heart and soul this cute boy is gonna explode my heart into pieces.

Sniper

...He loves doing small pecks on your forehead. Just a little cute peck. But! He also likes a proper kiss too you know! When he does he is the cutest thing ever. When he does kiss you he will cover his red face with his hat. Aww, sniper let me see your adorable face. N-No i-it ain't cute! .......*whisper voice* Y-You are 100 times cu-cuter. Sniper, did you say something? Nothing! He also likes to give quick nose boops when he is busy. *Boop* Hehe, That's cute love. :).

Medic

He has two modes honestly, one is I am a fluffy doctor and the other is I am a flirty doctor. (yes he is back :>)When he fluffy doctor he will give you little cheek kisses. Just like Archimedes does to you!! But...when he is a flirty boy... He is so unpredictable. You could be reading a book then he would just suddenly take the book, and kiss you. He would then whisper in your ear ''Oh sorry s/o. I just needed treatment since I was lovesick~♡'' (if you read my crap you know this weird reference) He is such a flirty boy, isn't he. N-Nothing wrong with that or anything.

Spy

He is a smooth boy. Oh hell yeah. He will spin you around and then put one hand on your waist before kissing you deeply. Just like in a romance movie. It is very romantic. He will only do this in private tho. ''Oh~Mon Amour why are you so cute honestly'' (this is his inside head voice there is no way in fuck he going to say that out loud but he really does lol) He also likes hand kisses. In a way, it is just a reminder of how much he loves you. All that cheesy romantic crap is private. There is no way in hell he is going to do that in public, all that cute stuff where he literally melts in your arms is only for you in private. :< (you're fine with it tho, it then just means that you can keep all that cute faces/reactions to yourself!)

So yeah, I am tired as fuck my stomach has just been doing 100 backflips for the past hour. So...Hope you enjoy anon! I had a fun time writing this! Let me just go take a break. So yeah um, bye, hope you have a good day!

[my-misplaced-stew]

Stop stealing my organs!

A medic x reader I made on my wattpad. it's not really romantic but eh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TW: Ask to tag

You weren't quite sure why you were attracted to your team's medic so much. Maybe it was because of his good looks? In reality it was because of how batshit insane he was.

You were the "I keep this place in tact" guy. That wasn't the job title but it's what you called it. You cleaned the main hallways and rooms such as the rec room, cafeteria, surveillance room, and all the other rooms the team frequented. Although you mainly stayed in the facility while the others fought with their doppelgangers, you on rare occasions helped them not die. That's how you officially met Medic.

It was your first time being on the battle field. Medic told you to join him for the battle so he could have some help dealing with the wounded men. Whenever it was just the two of you during the battle he gave you his medigun so you could heal him while he protected himself. It slightly confused you why he trusted you with the medigun instead of his crossbow but you didn't say anything, maybe he didn't want you accidentally shooting him. The both of you talked outside of battle as well. Although it was mainly while you were being healed or helping him take care of someone else. It still counted as talking to you.

It wasn't till your team lost the battle in the most humiliating way possible that he offered to both fix your broken arm and preform über surgery on you. You weren't quite sure what happened to the rest of the team while you lost, but you knew exactly what happened to you and Medic. You two got separated from everyone else when the enemy Demoman and Soldier started shooting and bombing to close for comfort. Medic tried to run away from the men bombing you two but you ended up getting hit by the Soldier's splash damage. It turns out you were a lot closer to the bomb than you thought, because when you looked at the injuries to your left side all you was was a deep red.

Medic tried to drag you somewhere safe so he could heal you fully without risking his life as well as what was left of yours. You tried your best to run with the aid of Medic only to collapse soon after. He handed you his bonesaw so you could defend yourself while he tried to fight off against the two crazed men. It didn't take long for the enemy Scout to find you practically defenceless. Despite your efforts, trying to slack and hack him with the saw, he managed to easily land a headshot on you. You were lucky you were put into the respawns system when you first started fighting.

Although you went threw the respawn it didn't heal you properly. You came back with your arm broken and still bleeding. Medic met with you after the fight ended to discuss you getting the über surgery, as well as finish what the respawn started. You were impressed with the medigun's healing capabilities, fixing your arm with ease. After you learned what the hell the über surgery was you agreed with no second thought. What you weren't expecting was to be awake during the surgery.

Your heart was beating fast and Medic knew it. You would be considered if he didn't, he was holding it. You tried cracking a few jokes to calm you down, but all it seemed to do was make your heart beat faster and your throat close up. "What the fuck is in my organs?" you asked in a very concerned voice. "Oh! Thank you for reminding me! Archimedes! What have I told you about hiding in my experiments?" he yelled at the bird that flew out of your stomach like a disappointed father. Ok that's it you couldn't take it, you fainted right then and there.

You woke up expecting to be aching everywhere, but you were feeling quite the opposite. If anything you felt more energetic than ever. You felt like you could take on everyone on the enemy team and still have energy left over. That feeling didn't last long once Medic told you that you might have 1 less kidney. And 1 less intestine. And part of your liver gone. He reassured you though! "As long as you are in range of the medigun while it's on they'll eventually grow back!" That's it. Five more fucking minutes.

[drfitzmonster]

Since your brain is too deep fried for mommates right now maybe if you still feel like writing something do a deep fried crack fic. Fried chicken, chicken fried steak, fish fry, fried turkey, fair food in general, etc. Just all the fried things a Kryptonian with an iron-clad stomach and the metabolism of a god might mow through and her long-suffering wife's search for one. Single. Vegetable. Somewhere. Please.

The unmistakable smell of deep fried food hit Lena as soon as she entered the building, and it only increased in intensity the closer she got to the apartment she shared with a journalist from another planet who had a particular propensity for junk food. The smell was particularly strong in the elevator, and Lena couldn’t help but imagine her favorite Kryptonian trying to press the button for their floor while loaded down with an obscene number of precariously stacked fast food containers.

When she opened the door to their apartment she was hit with the scent of fried things, full on, which was emanating from the mountains of food that were piled on every available surface in the kitchen. In the middle of it all was Kara, with a drumstick that could have come from a small theropod in one hand and what appeared to be an Archimedes’ screw made out of potato in the other. 

She wielded them like a rod and scepter. Sitting on her throne at the bar, she was Lena’s very own king of Candyland.

“So,” Lena said as she shrugged her jacket off and tossed her purse and briefcase onto the couch, “what are we celebrating or lamenting this evening?”

Kara shrugged and smiled, her face shiny with grease. “It’s just been a long week,” she paused to take a bite off her drumstick before continuing, “and I figured we could use a treat.”

Lena toed off her heels and came to join Kara, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her midsection. “This is quite a treat you’ve amassed here,” she said softly, kissing Kara’s temple and resting her chin on her shoulder. “Tell me what wonderful things you got us.”

Kara knocked her head gently into Lena’s and sighed happily. “Smoked turkey leg,” she announced, holding it up, “and twister dog!” Kara held it out for Lena.

She took an experimental bite, surprised by how good it tasted. “Wait, I want another,” she said, as Kara tried to pull it away.

Kara just laughed and let her take another quick nibble before she took her own, massive bite. “I knew you’d like it.”

“What else do we have?”

“We have,” Kara used her potato scepter to point at various items as she spoke, “cheese on a stick, donut burger, funnel cake, fried pizza, fried beer, fried butter—”

“How do you fry butter?”

“Magic?”

“And beer?”

“Dark magic.”

“I’m sure it’s not magic. Witchcraft maybe.” She hummed, considering the deep fried feast before her. “Let me try the beer. That can’t be real.”

Kara passed one her way.

Lena took a bite and by god it tasted like beer— a weak American lager— but beer nonetheless. “That was interesting, ok.”

Kara popped two in her mouth, chewed once, and made a face. “Gross.” She swallowed and then shook her head. 

Lena laughed. “Why did you even get those? You hate the taste of beer.”

“I don’t know. I thought you might like them, since you drink and everything.”

“I like properly poured Guinness and single pot still whiskey, not raviolis filled with Budweiser.”

“Well, how about some bacon to cleanse your palate?” 

Lena tried chocolate covered bacon, chicken fried bacon, and bacon wrapped mac and cheese balls before they moved on to other fare. Lena had no idea so many types of candy could be battered and deep fried. She finally had to throw in the towel after the jelly beans, which were, in a word, abominable. 

She did, however, enjoy the oreo, especially since Kara zapped it with her heat vision so it was nice and gooey and warm when she tried it.

“As lovely as all of this is, I think I need to eat something with a vegetable in it.”

“Don’t worry I got you vegetables.”

“You did? Well that was sweet of you.”

“Yeah, see,” Kara presented a box to Lena, beaming proudly.

Lena cautiously opened the lid, and then immediately shut it again. “What is that?” she asked, unable to keep herself from frowning.

“Porkabella bombs!”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a portobello mushroom cap, stuffed with chicken and cheese, wrapped in bacon, battered, and deep fried.”

“Kara, no.”

“I thought you loved mushrooms,” Kara said, pouting.

“I do, Kara, and it was so sweet of you to think of me, but that is not what I meant when I said I needed to eat something with a vegetable in it.”

Kara burst out laughing. “I know! That’s why I got you one of those gross salads you like. It’s in the fridge. I just wanted to see the look on your face.”

Lena scowled.

“That’s the one,” Kara turned and pulled Lena onto her lap, kissing her messily.

“You’re covered in powdered sugar,” Lena laughed into Kara’s mouth as they kissed. She tasted like grease and chocolate and everything Lena had ever wanted.

Kara stood with Lena in her arms. “Time for dessert.”

“What could you possibly want to eat after all of that?”

Kara smirked. “You.”

“Oh. Carry on, then.”

[pengychan]

[The Great Ace Attorney] A Case of Identity - Prologue

Summary: On that fateful night in Lowgate cemetery, the bullet finds its target in Enoch Drebber. When he awakens he's locked behind an iron mask, facing a lifetime of imprisonment as the mass murderer who survived a botched execution - the Professor. However, help is afoot. Characters: Enoch Drebber, Esmeralda Tusspells, Herlock Sholmes, Yujin Mikotoba, Tobias Gregson, Mael Stronghart, Gina Lestrade Rating: T

Prologue and all other chapters will be tagged as ‘case of identity’ on my blog.

A/N: Let's be honest, shooting the witness that night would have made a lot more sense. This idea hit me over the head with a spoon until I gave in and decided to write it. I gave in pretty quickly.

***

Give me a lever and a place to stand, Archimedes of Syracuse had once said, and I shall move the world.

The boast of being able to move the world may be a slight exaggeration, of course, but Enoch Drebber understood the principle perfectly. As long as the distance from the fulcrum to the object in need of moving - in this case, a stone slab - is shorter than the distance between the fulcrum and the input force - in this case, him - the lever - in his case, a spade - amplifies the input force, and makes heavy objects relatively easy to move. 

Relatively being the key word there, because it couldn’t be argued that lifting the stone slab covering the freshly-dug grave was precisely easy. Enoch knew where his strengths lay, and his muscles was not it; he’d have better luck counting on his own meager weight to prove Archimedes right and move, if not the world, at least that damned slab. 

Possibly before the guardian of the cemetery happened to walk by, spot what little light emanated from Enoch’s oil lantern, and caught him in the act. It would force him to flee empty-handed and maybe even abandon his spade there, and Hell knew he didn’t even have money to buy another one.

Things would be a lot easier if he had money to bribe the man, clearly, but lack of money was precisely the reason why he was there in the first place. Graverobbing was unpleasant work but always worth it in the end, with coin to last him a good month or even two as long as he was wise in his spending. Some of his fellow students did not see it that way, saying that all the money in the world was not worth the nightmares, or eternal damnation, or whatever it was they feared most. 

As luck would have it, Enoch Drebber held no more belief in divine retribution than he did in ghost stories; if not for the risk of being caught, he’d fear those nocturnal walks across cemeteries in the faint light of a lantern no more than walking down the halls at university. Whether it had belonged to a murderer or a saint, a body was a body: a husk of flesh that no longer served a purpose, valuable to no one but the surgeon under whose scalpel it would fall and the students who’d learn from it. And to him, as a decent source of income. 

It wouldn’t be long, either way. He was so close to graduation and soon all would be very different, with so much to look forward to. He could change the country, change the world. Within the next ten years, he imagined he’d--

A scraping sound of stone on stone interrupted his musings and brought him back to the present - on an uncharacteristically non-foggy night in the Lowgate cemetery, straining to push down onto the handle of his spade, the other end wedged in a crack beneath the slab that was finally widening. 

Ah, Enoch thought, not a moment too soon.  

A few more heaves, more scraping sounds, and Enoch was finally able to move it halfway to the side and reveal the coffin within. There was no layer of earth on it to dig out; unusual but,  still panting a little for the exertion, he was only glad for it. He shoved the head of the spade in the crack beneath the lid, and pushed it down again. This time, it didn’t take much force.

Crack.

The sound of nails and cheap wood giving in was louder than Enoch would have liked and he stilled to look around, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, making sure he hadn’t been heard. The air was still, the night clear, and to his relief he could see no one: he was alone amongst the tombstones, no sign of the night guardian. Just him, and the faint flickering shadows cast by his oil lantern.

… Maybe it would be best to move it closer, though, to better see inside the coffin and make sure its light would attract no unwarranted attention. Enoch Drebber stood, spade still in hand, and went to pick up the lantern. His left hand had just closed around the handle when noises reached his ears, faint but unmistakable. 

The squeal of a hinge being pushed open, a groan, someone moving around and wood splintering further...

… and again the scrape of stone on stone, as though the slab was being pushed further aside to… to...

No. It’s not true. It’s not happening.

Enoch Drebber was, at heart, a man of science. He believed only what he could see and touch to be real, and only what precise calculations and proven theories told him was possible to be possible. Corpses did not, could not, sit up and leave their graves. It was a scientific impossibility. The dead did not return to life, and the temperature in London on a warm Spring night could not drop by a dozen degrees within seconds.

And yet something was moving behind him, and the sheen of sweat on his skin seemed to have turned into frost. Suddenly, the hand holding the lantern shook so hard the tiny flame was almost extinguished. If that happened and he was left in darkness, Enoch was sure, no amount of logic and good judgment in the world could keep him from screaming.

Above him, dark clouds hid the moon. Behind him strone scraped against stone once more, followed by a noise that chilled him to the bone, carried by a faint wind.

“Uugh…”

Run.

No. It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s someone trying to scare me off-- the guardian, another grave robber, some urchins from the slums--

He should have ran, dropped the lantern and spade and just left the cemetery as fast as his legs could carry him, but he did not and he would live to regret it. As his rational mind desperately fought to cling to a logical explanation and keep the growing panic at bay, Enoch Drebber gathered his courage and turned, mouth dry, to lift the lantern with a shaky hand. 

“Who--” he began, but his voice died in his throat. There in the flickering light, face covered by an iron mask and halfway out of his grave, was the corpse. Enoch strained to open his mouth, to cry out, but no sound left him as he watched a dead man climb out of his coffin. The thing’s eyes seemed to shine from the dark abysses of the mask’s eyes, and Enoch knew they were fixed on him. It may have made him tremble, if he wasn’t frozen on the spot.

Divine retribution, he thought. They'll find me in the morning. I will make the papers sooner than I thought I would. 

No!

A faint sigh of wind hit his face, chilling him through. A scream tried to claw its way through Enoch’s throat, but something held it back. He stared, eyes wide and terror paralyzing every limb, now certain he would die unless he could force his voice out; the silence and darkness all around him suddenly felt unbearable, suffocating, pushing down on him like gravity. He struggled to draw breath through the obstruction in his throat, and tried to scream.

He never got the chance: another sound cut through the silence of the night before he could.

BANG.

Something hit Enoch Drebber’s back with stunning force, sending him sprawling on the ground with scarcely a sound. He dimly heard his lantern shattering, but he didn’t get to see its light being snuffed out: his face was pressed in the dirt, and he didn’t have the strength to lift his head. The smell of earth filled his nostrils, along with another smell his mind refused to identify as blood. His back burned, but it was a distant burn with little pain as he tethered on the edge of unconsciousness. His fingers dug into the earth, but he was unable to move.

He’ll take me to Hell, he thought. Someone help me, he tried to call out, and again he could make no noise. He faintly heard something over the ringing in his ears - steps, someone’s voice - but he couldn’t make out any words. Enoch’s eyes fell shut and he let the dark claim him, utterly certain he would never awaken again.

He was wrong.

He’d wish he hadn't been.

***

Earth. He smelled earth and blood, something was 

d r a g g i n g him

away from where he’d fallen

where had he fallen

why had he fallen

and whatever it was

the corpse

he was powerless to stop it. He was cold

so so cold

and couldn’t move, his tongue remained a dead weight in his mouth, his eyes remained shut as he 

f e l l

and hit something hard, a clang of metal on wood

why metal and why was his head so heavy 

covering his faint groan. It had felt like such a long fall, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was not. A hole in the ground large enough for a coffin was not a long way to fall. 

“Wrong place. Wrong time .”

A voice so. far. away. So far. So close.

Enoch’s eyes cracked open only a few moments to see the waning moon high above, a dark shadow blotting out most of it. A sigh.

“... Wrong target. Damned fool.”

Enoch Drebber tried to call out

help me

what happened

God

mother

someone

but his tongue did not move, his head was much too heavy, and his eyes slipped shut again. The creak of hinges, a lid slamming shut, and all was dark. Above him, the scrape of stone on stone

give me a lever

sealed him in, but Enoch did not hear it. For a time, he heard and felt nothing.

***

Air. A clack like a metal latch right by his ear and then cool night air blowing on his face brought Enoch back to a state of faint awareness. He breathed in, or tried to, because suddenly something

pressed

on his face, something soft and yielding, and he couldn’t breathe. He tried to push it off, but he couldn’t move, fingers barely twitching. 

No no no stop please I’m sorry I’m so sorry someone help--

Then, as his lungs began to burn, the pressure was gone and air hit his face again. He drew breath in a shuddering gasp; above him, someone else gasped much louder.

“Mon Dieu!”

The clang of tools being dropped, a silence and stillness that seemed to stretch on forever. Beneath close eyelids, he realized a light was being shone on him. The voice came again, this time a whisper.

“This… how… blood…? What happened here?”

A soft touch on his forehead, so so cold 

or maybe he was feverish

and another whisper. “Monsieur, what happened…?”

“Who goes there!” 

Another voice, loud as thunder, and the touch on Enoch’s forehead was gone. He groaned again, and strained to open his eyes. In the faint glow of the lantern he saw there were two figures standing above him. Neither was trying to keep their voice down, but all sound still seemed to be coming from so far away, words barely intelligible and blurring together.

“... doing here…”

“... still alive, call the wardens…”

“... botched the hanging, clearly…”

“... buried him alive…?”

“... will answer for the mistake…”

“... how…?”

“... none of your concern… national interest…”

Enoch groaned again, and tried to move. His body was too heavy, and something behind his shoulder hurt, a burning pain that seemed to flare all the brighter the more he regained consciousness. “H-- help--”

He managed to force out the word in a husky whisper, causing the two dark figures to fall quiet and look at him. The larger one, a man, heaved a sigh. “... Go fetch the guardian and tell him to warn the prison wardens at once. We will discuss your trespassing later.”

“I… oui. Right away.” 

The woman seemed to pause a moment before she ran off, picking something up from the ground, but Enoch didn’t see what it was and neither did the man. Suddenly he was kneeling over him, blocking out the moonlight, staring down at him with piercing eyes. The oil lantern's light flickered across his features as he grimaced, pulling his lips in a tight line.

“Yes, Professor,” he said, very quietly. “It is clear that the execution was botched.”

The… the Professor, the infamous mass murderer? A botched execution? Then maybe… maybe he hadn’t seen a corpse return to life. The man-- the murderer -- was never dead. It happened rarely, but neither botched hangings nor men buried alive were unheard of. There were stories among grave robbers of such instances, bodies found with bloodied fingers from trying to scratch their way out, but Enoch regarded them as nothing more than legends.

After that night, he never would again. He had let a murderer out in the streets, the monster had tried to kill him and left him for dead. And now he was out there, he was… he was...

“A-- alive…” Enoch managed, his usually nimble mind struggling to put the pieces together. The man nodded gravely.

“Yes, unfortunately. You should not be alive. This is going to be a dreadful headache.” A shake of his head, and the man reached to pick something up from the ground - the iron mask that had been on the murderer’s face when he’d emerged from the grave, now open like a beast’s maw. The mere sight of it made Enoch shudder. 

“T-the Professor, I saw… I…!” he choked out, trembling.

A long sigh, and the man nodded again. “Oh, yes. I know,” he said. Suddenly the mask was over Enoch’s head, and closed with a clack. He made a noise of surprise, looking at the man’s face; his expression remained unreadable. What… what was going on? Was he listening to him?

“The Professor--” Enoch tried again, struggling and failing to hold up his head. A large hand on his chest kept him from trying to rise, his head spun, and he knew he wouldn’t be conscious for long. 

“No need to repeat your title, Professor,” the man said, and reached for the mask again. Another sound, like a key being turned into a lock, and those blue eyes once again bore into his. There was no joy nor sorrow in that unwavering gaze: only a steely resolve more terrifying than anything else he'd seen that night. 

Enoch's own vision swam and everything went dark again, the next words barely reaching him as he felt himself sink into nothingness. 

“We know exactly who you are.”

***

[Next]