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pines-troz · 3 years

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Weekend With The Warners: Chapter Eight

Summary: When the CEO assigns Pinky and The Brain with the important task of watching over the Warners for the weekend, Brain is prepared for any antics that the children have in store. What he didn’t take into account was forming a familial bond with the kids.

Warning: The last third of this chapter includes animal testing (albeit not a graphic depiction) as well as PTSD and trauma.

Word Count: 11,403

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849962/chapters/75446471

Before the break of dawn, Brain awoke from his slumber to find his left arm trapped underneath his slumbering partner. The mouse prided himself on being the big spoon, there were moments where he preferred to be the little spoon. He loved feeling the warmth from Pinky's soft fur while contentedly nestling in the taller mouse's affectionate embrace. Try as he might, Brain could never fully achieve success as the big spoon. While he tried his hardest to assert his protective nature when he wrapped his arms around his tall partner, he always felt like a little backpack.

Brain snaked his left arm, which fell numb from supporting Pinky's weight. Feeling an itch underneath his chin, he took his right hand to ameliorate the situation only to feel the scruffy grey hairs growing from his ivory fur. The mouse groaned in irritation. He was going to take Pinky and the Warners out for an exquisite brunch at an upscale restaurant and he needed to clean up if he wanted to blend in with the other patrons. Well, about as much as a small laboratory mouse escorting three toon children of indeterminate species could.

Not wanting to wake Pinky up, Brain carefully snuck out of bed and trotted over to the bathroom to shave. However, the mouse didn't take into account that only two of the Warners were still snoozing in the other bed.

When Brain opened up the bathroom door, he was shocked to find a most horrifying sight.

"Oh, dear God!" The small mouse shouted as he stared at Yakko, still dressed in his pajamas, setting up a guillotine while happily humming the tune to 'Yakko's World'.

"What, in the name of Socrates's tainted tongs, are you doing with that guillotine?" Brain demanded.

"Oh, this old thing" Yakko mentioned, pointing a thumb at the execution device. "Well, I'm in a little bit of a dilemma. This morning I woke up to find little hairs growing around my face." The teen explained. Taking out a magnifying glass from his hammerspace, he leaned towards Brain to show him the few, practically microscopic black hairs that sprouted around his face. "So naturally, I figured that I shave off those pesky facial hairs before going out for brunch."

Brain smacked his paw against his giant head. "Yakko, I admire your eagerness, but a guillotine is not considered to be a proper tool for shaving." The mouse headed over towards the execution device, which was supported by small black wheels, and pushed it as hard as his little mouse body would allow. "Perhaps we should set aside this device for more serious matters, like dealing with corrupt politicians or heartless billionaires." He explained as he pushed the guillotine out of the bathroom, which then disappeared upon crashing into the wall.

"Well, then how else am I gonna shave." Yakko inquired impatiently.

"With a razor, Robespierre," Brain sarcastically answered.

"Oh, I gotcha!" Yakko acknowledged with a grin. The teen reached into his hammerspace once more and retrieved an old Motorola Razr model flip phone.

Brain frowned indignantly with furrowed brows. "Now you're just teasing me." Yakko flashed a playful smile in response.

"Allow me to assist you in the proper etiquette of shaving." The pudgy mouse remarked as he took the tape measure elevator up to the counter. "There should be some shaving cream, exfoliator scrub, after-shave cream, and a couple of disposable razors in the drawer."

"Since when do mice grow facial hair anyway?" Yakko asked.

"A strange inquiry coming from the boy who summoned a guillotine out of thin air." Brain responded in a sardonic tone. "No, it's impossible for the average mouse to grow facial hair. I believe that this is yet another side effect of having gone through the gene splicer, in addition to having an increased life span and the ability to take in a comical amount of pain."

"Now go fetch me the necessary tools from the drawer." Brain firmly commanded. "There should be some shaving cream, exfoliator scrub, a couple of disposable razors, and a bottle of after-shave."

Yakko opened up the drawer and saw two navy blue razors covered with a plastic shield and a blue bottle of shaving cream. "You mean these things?" The teen inquired as he held them up.

"Yes, Yakko," Brain answered as he headed towards the sink faucet. With tiny paws, he lifted the rod and turned on the handles. He looked over at Yakko, who began to shake the bottle of shaving cream. Just as he started to dispense some of the creams, Brain approached the teen.

"Now let's not get too excited with the shaving cream. You must first wash your face." The mouse explained. Once the sink was filled with an appropriate amount of water, he turned it off. Cupping his hands, Brain dipped them into the warm water and spread them across his face. "The warm water will relax your skin and make it more receptive to the razor and less prone to razor bumps."

Yakko copied Brain's instructions. But then his playful side kicked in when he dunked his gloved hands into the sink and flicked a few droplets of water onto Brain. The mouse flinched the moment he was assaulted by the sink water.

"Yakko," Brain grumbled.

"Sorry, teach!" Yakko playfully apologized.

For the next five minutes, Brain continued to teach Yakko the proper shaving etiquette. While the teen got a little overboard with applying too much shaving cream, he managed to do a decent job with his first go at shaving. Brain was thankful that Yakko didn't do anything remotely crazy while using the disposable razor. After they rinsed off with cold water, Brain taught the teen how to apply the after-shave.

Once the little impromptu shaving lesson was complete, Yakko admired his clean-shaven face, feeling like a million bucks. Brain smiled at his eager pupil. "Well, I commend you for your quick learning." The big-headed mouse complimented.

"Thanks, Brain," Yakko replied. "Though, I gotta ask you something, who taught you how to shave anyway?"

"I taught myself," Brain answered. "I learned most, if not all, of the important life skills all on my own and without any assistance."

The room grew silent. Yakko stared at the mouse with a concerned expression. Brain seldom brought up his life as a laboratory mouse. "So no one taught you anything?"

Brain only shook his head. "I was only a young child when scientists separated me from my family and home in the wilderness to be incarcerated at Acme Labs."

Yakko instinctively rubbed the back of his head, feeling a pang of empathy for the mouse. He knew what it was like to be self-reliant at a young age, but he never had any loving paternal figures before he was locked away at the tower alongside his younger siblings. Even still, the teen was curious about Brain's youth and carefully crafted his question before speaking up.

"Do you remember anything about your parents?"

Brain's eyes widened at the eldest Warner's inquiry. It was an innocent question born from genuine interest and curiosity. So the mouse decided to provide a satisfactory answer. "My memories of my early childhood are fairly hazy, but there are aspects of it I distinctly remember. The warmth of my parents' fur whenever they embraced me, their ruby red eyes that glimmered in the sun, the richness of my mother's milk, and the nights spent snuggling close to them as we slumbered in our tin-can home."

Yakko noticed the sad smile on Brain's face as he reminisced of his early youth. The teen couldn't imagine how horrifying it must be to be permanently separated from his family. "And you never saw them again?"

Brain looked at the eldest Warner. "Well I did encounter my parents years later, but the reunion was not as joyful as it could have been."

"What happened?" Yakko asked.

"Let's just say that they don't necessarily approve of my life choices, save for having Pinky as my roommate." Brain answered flatly.

"Ah," Yakko noted. The teen felt sorry for the mouse and tried his best to provide some consolation. "Well, at least you got to see your parents again,"

"Yes," Brain muttered, casting his eyes down on the countertop.

Yakko sadly frowned, noting that his words of comfort didn't do the trick. He drummed his fingers on the countertop. There was something else that Yakko needed to get off his chest, but he didn't know how well to articulate it. "Well, you're not the only one who had to learn everything on their own."

Brain looked up at the eldest Warner. The mouse thought back to the early days of his acting gig on Animaniacs, and the various stories he heard about the three troublesome toon siblings who were locked up by the studio for over sixty years because they were too much to handle. When he first heard of these tales, the mouse was initially intimidated by the toon children due to the sheer chaos they possessed. But as he and Pinky got to know their co-stars, Brain's fears melted away, and as he pondered over their backstory, he became sympathetic to their plight. He couldn't begin to imagine the difficulties the children faced of being isolated in a water tower for so long. This hardship must have been harrowing for poor Yakko, who had to learn everything on his own on top of having to care for his two younger siblings.

Brain rubbed his left arm up and down. "I guess so," he said softly. As much as the mouse wanted to ask questions about the teen's upbringing, he couldn't bring himself to do so. Instead, he wanted to reassure the boy.

Brain looked up at Yakko and carefully approached his hand, which was leaning on the countertop. "I am well aware of the unfair circumstances that forced you to become the sole caregiver of your dear siblings," he gingerly addressed. "And while you have done a tremendous job, you should not have to be the only one providing for your family."

Yakko was stunned by what he was hearing. He gave an astonished look at the mouse, who placed his firm, yet gentle paws over his hand.

Brain stared up at the eldest Warner with a steadfast expression on his face. "I don't know what it's like to be an older sibling, but I recognize the responsibility that comes with taking care of the ones you love."

Yakko didn't have to be a rocket scientist to realize that Brain was referring to his dearest Pinky. Ever since he first met them in the early nineties, the mice were as close as can be and were always seen together whenever they went about in the studio lot. Much like how he was always with his siblings whenever they caused playful pandemonium.

"And if you need any help, you can always call upon myself and Pinky." Brain solemnly offered. "We're more than happy to assist you in any way if you so choose."

Yakko was surprised to hear such a suggestion coming from Brain. Wakko and Dot were already enamored with the idea of having mouse parents, and the mice were willing to step up to the plate. Perhaps he no longer had to bear the solitary responsibility of taking proper care of his siblings. What's more, the constant attention he would receive from two guardians was another enticing aspect of the deal.

"Well Brain, I just might take your offer into consideration!" He responded with an eager smile. The teen carefully scooped the big-headed mouse into his hands.

Brain allowed a small smile to cross his lips. He was finally getting through to the boy!

"And Brain," Yakko spoke up. "I forgot to tell you this earlier, but I wanna thank you for helping Wakko find his drawing from the library."

The mouse's ears perked upwards at the grateful tone.

"It made my sib's day and I'm grateful that you went the extra mile for them," Yakko explained with a smile.

At that moment, Brain was speechless. What he once saw as another wacky situation was seen as a genuine act of kindness. "You're welcome." He quietly replied.

The sudden noise of bouncing bed springs followed by jovial laughter reached their ears. Brain and Yakko emerged from the bathroom to find Wakko and Dot playfully wrestling on the bed while Pinky cheered on, thrusting his purple pom-poms into the air.

"Alright, that's enough roughhousing children!" Brain alerted the two Warners in a slightly strict tone before turning his attention towards his partner. "And quit enabling their shenanigans, Pinky!"

"Oops, sorry Brain," Pinky quickly apologized with a hint of regret in his tone.

Brain leaped off of Yakko's hands and landed on top of the mattress. "Now, I'm taking you all out for breakfast and I want you all to dress to impress!"

- - - - -

The group was seated at the round table at the nearest upscale restaurant, happily enjoying their brunch. Everyone dressed their best for the special meal. Pinky wore a flowy strawberry-printed dress, Brain wore a purple blazer and matching skater skirt, a black turtleneck sweater, and a gold chain necklace. Yakko wore a billowy puffy white shirt with rainbow suspenders attached to his brown slacks, Wakko wore a red-and-black plaid kilt in addition to their blue sweater, and Dot wore a red T-shirt and blue overalls with a small rainbow across the front.

Everything was running smoothly during their brunch. Brain indulged himself and Pinky in the finest dishes on the menu. The Warners even made the effort to be zany to a moderate degree. They all engaged in playful conversation. Brain looked over to see how happy Yakko was, laughing with his siblings. Some of the other patrons looked at the toon children with a mix of fear or disgust, but Brain didn't care. As long as they were happy, then he was happy.

While they waited for the check to come in, Brain took a spoon and gently tapped it on the side of his glass of water. "Attention!" He called out.

The Warners and Pinky turned their attention towards the big-headed mouse. Wakko was especially excited. "Are we gonna bust into an elaborate musical number?" He asked, taking out a pair of drumsticks from their hammerspace.

"That won't be necessary, Wakko." Brain addressed. "Now, since our day is winding down, I have one more important activity for us to engage in after we check out of the hotel and bring your luggage back to the studio lot."

"Are we gonna help you take over the world?!" Dot asked excitedly.

"A valid guess, but no." Brain answered though he was pleased to hear the Warner sister's suggestion come off as genuine. "Instead, we shall spend the afternoon at the park!"

"Poit! We'll play all sorts of games, like frisbee, and flying kites, and pet any doggies that walk by!" Pinky joyfully added.

The Warners exchanged eager glances at each other. "And if we're lucky, we can drop by the Wheel of Morality!" Yakko suggested.

"Egad, that sounds fun-fun, silly-willy!" Pinky cheered.

The waitress approached the table and handed Brain the black flipbook that contained the check. The mouse thanked the waitress and proceeded to inspect the check. The expensive brunch totaled two-hundred and fifty dollars and twenty-four cents. He was grateful that the studio would be paying for this extravagant expense. Without a word, Brain retrieved the golden credit card and placed it in the folder, slapped the flipbook shut, and returned it to the waitress.

Despite the wacky antics, he endured all weekend long, he was thankful to have his fine-dining experience.

- - - - -

A blue Uber van pulled up at the front of the Warner Bros. Studio lot. Once the side door opened, the Warners and the mice quickly emerged from the vehicle with their luggage in tow. Brain piloted his mechanical human suit once again, grabbing some of the suitcases. He was thankful that the process of checking out of the hotel and commuting back to Burbank went off without a hitch. Once the van sped off, the group looked up at the studio lot.

"Home again, home again," Yakko blissfully sighed.

"Unfortunately, the CEO doesn't want any of us to set foot in the lot until sunset." Brain advised the Warners. "Why don't I fly over to the water tower and drop off your belongings there before we head to the park."

The Warners happily agreed, giving the mouse the rest of their luggage. "Pinky and I will be back in a minute, so don't do anything rash while we're gone."

"We weren't planning on it, since neither of us has any ointment," Wakko replied.

"And remember, the door's a pull, not a push!" Yakko quickly added.

"Duly noted," Brain acknowledged as he started his engines. The jet boosters in his shoes ignited and the suit was launched into the air.

Dot's eyes widened with excitement as she felt her hair and skirt blow through from the suit's jet engines. She remembered the excitement on Wakko's face when he gushed over how fun it was to ride on Brain's suit. Not wanting to be left out, the Warner sister wanted a piece of the action.

The girl reached into her hammerspace and took out a megaphone. "Hey Brain, I just remembered that I forgot something in the water tower and I need to go get it."

The mice heard her request. Brain yanked the controls, turning the suit around to retrieve the Warner sister.

Dot bounced in excitement when she saw the suit fly down.

But Yakko grew suspicious of his sister. "Do you even need to go back to the water tower?"

"No," Dot casually admitted with a confident smile.

But before any of her siblings could react, Dot was swept off of her feet and carefully secured in Brain's mechanical arms. The task of balancing the Warner sister and the various suitcases proved to be a challenge, but not an impossible feat. After shifting his position, he found a satisfactory position and maintained his steadiness over the controls.

The first thing she felt was the wind flowing through her fur. She then glanced down at the various buildings in the studio, admiring the aerial perspective of her beloved abode.

Dot's eyes widened as she observed the movie lot from above. "Woah,"

"Isn't it so much fun!" Pinky exclaimed from the comfort of the coat pocket.

"The greatest!" She eagerly replied.

Brain allowed a small smirk as he listened to their conversation.

But the fun didn't last long when Brain shifted the controls of his suit just before they arrived at the water tower. With a hard tug, he managed to stop the suit before it could collide with the water tower door. He carefully placed Dot down on the steps first before proceeding to drop the luggage.

Dot opened up the Warner Bros. logo door open, gesturing the mice to enter. She swiftly turned on the light switch, illuminating her humble home. The interior of the water tower was in a somewhat pristine state, ignoring the crumpled up bags of potato chips and napkins scattered across the floor.

Pinky hopped out from the pocket and landed on the floor with a thud. Laughing off the pain, he got up and explored the interior of the water tower. "Poit! A lot has changed since the last time we were up in the water tower." He observed.

"Yup," Dot agreed. "My siblings and I made some adjustments to keep up with the times."

The mice looked at the three bunk beds stacked on top of each other. But Brain wore a frown when he noticed Yakko's bed was merely a ball pit.

"Is that supposed to be Yakko's bed?" Brain addressed, pointing the suit's hand over to the ball pit.

Dot hummed and nodded in response. The smaller mouse rolled his eyes. "I bet his chiropractor is having a field day."

His eyes then darted over to a few books scattered near the bunk beds. There were a few amoral paperback romance novels that must have belonged to Yakko. But among the myriad of inappropriate literature laid the cover of a particular picture book that featured a colorful red and green caterpillar. The innocent-looking bug caught Brain's attention and he gingerly picked up the book. As he inspected the book cover, his mind began to flashback to the early years of his acting career.

Warner Movie Lot, 1992

Pinky skipped gaily, tugging Brain by his wrist as he led his roommate over to the iconic yellow and red water tower that lay in the heart of the movie studio. Brain stared up at the tower, trying his best to conceal his fear of the Warner siblings.

The mice just started their work as actors after a plan to take over the world gone wrong had serendipitously landed them starring roles in an upcoming variety show called Animaniacs, which was set to air the following year. Brain intended to use this opportunity of acting in a prestigious television program to gain the admiration of the masses who would pledge their unyielding loyalty to him as Earth's leader. However, the megalomaniacal mouse rarely interacted with the other co-stars and crew members. His years in the lab instilled a distrust towards humans that was hard to shake off, and he mostly kept to himself. But Pinky seemed to be living his best life on the set. Always chatting with the cast and crew members and charming them with his cheerful disposition.

While on the set, Brain heard numerous horror stories from various crew members about the three toon children who recently escaped from the water tower and caused all sorts of chaos all over the movie lot. And it just so happened that one of Pinky's newfound friends was the Warner sister, Dot.

She initially invited Pinky over to the water tower to play dress-up, but the obtuse mouse insisted that he bring along Brain as well, and the girl was not opposed to having an extra guest in her home.

The mice arrived at the bottom of the water tower. Brain stared up at the yellow and red water tank, calculating how he and Pinky could reach the top. He regretted not bringing his human suit along for the playdate. But before he could come up with a plan, the water tank began to descend as if it was an elevator. Once the tank hit the ground, the Warner Bros. shield opened to reveal Wakko and Dot wearing admittedly adorable bellboy uniforms. Pinky clapped his hands and hopped on each foot upon seeing two of the Warners siblings.

"Going up?" Wakko inquired.

"What other option do I have?" Brain dryly remarked as he followed Pinky through the door. Once the mice entered the water tower, Dot slammed the door shut and Wakko pulled the lever, causing the water tank to ascend back to its original place.

Wakko and Dot swiftly took off their uniforms to reveal their regular attire; Wakko dressed in their signature oversized blue sweater and backward red cap while Dot wore her pink skirt and yellow flower hair tie.

The Warner sister approached Pinky and scooped him up into her hands. "Oh, it's so good to see you again!" She chirped as she twirled around, causing the lanky mouse to laugh heartily.

"Thank you for inviting Brain and me over to your house. Narf!" Pinky exclaimed. "Oh, I know we're going to all have a fun-fun, silly-willy time together!"

"I should show you my new playhouse and all the doll clothes I recently bought!" Dot suggested.

"Oh, that sounds like tons of fun!" Pinky merrily replied.

Brain looked over at the two with a raised brow. While he was secretly glad that Pinky was occupied in his own inane activities, he was at a loss of what to do. He was stuck in the infamous water tower and had to endure the chaos of the Warners for who knows how long.

But his ponderings ceased the moment he was scooped up in the hands of the middle Warner sibling. He looked over at Wakko, who must have sensed his loneliness from being excluded from Pinky and Dot's antics.

"Can we hang out together?" Wakko asked with twinkling eyes.

Brain glanced at Wakko and didn't know what to make of the young toon. After listening to the various stories about him, he was the most chaotic and violent of the trio, always quick to whack people with a mallet or any other cartoonish weapons at their disposal. The mouse decided that it would be best to appease the middle child in the hopes of forging a solid acquaintance so that he would not face their wrath.

"I would be delighted to accompany you in whatever activities you have in store." Brain answered with a nervous smile.

"Great!" Wakko cheered, leaping from the floor while holding Brain in their grasp. He bounced over to the couch.

"We could share my snacks and read my favorite story of all time!" Wakko said as he placed the mouse on the sofa before bounding over to the refrigerator. Only seconds have passed when he returned to the couch with a whole platter of different snacks: bags of chips, bananas, different types of cheeses, pudding, and cookies.

Brain stared at the small buffet laid out on the coffee table before looking back at Wakko, who reached into their red cap and took out The Hungry Caterpillar and gave it to him.

The small mouse inspected the cover of the book before glancing back at the snacks and over to Wakko. "Well, I can understand your enthusiasm over this particular book."

"I have never related to any character as much as that caterpillar." Wakko declared with a nod.

"I see," Brain muttered. "Well, to make this activity more interesting, why don't we take turns reading."

"Sounds fun!" Wakko agreed.

For the next five minutes, Brain and Wakko read aloud the story about a caterpillar with an enormous appetite who then turned into a beautiful butterfly. As they took turns reading, Brain noticed the glimmer of joy in Wakko's eyes as he observed the colorful illustrations. Perhaps the young toon was not as bad as he thought and was unfairly mischaracterized by the other studio workers. Once they were finished with the story, they heard the door open. The two glanced over to see Yakko Warner entering the water tower.

Once the eldest Warner shut the door behind him, he glanced around his abode to see his siblings interacting with their co-stars and, presumably, friends. WIth Wakko sitting with Brain and Dot dressing Pinky up in a pink flower hat and purple sunglasses.

"Oh, I didn't know we had company over!" He exclaimed as he gazed at the mice.

Wakko bounced off from the couch and landed in their brother's arms. "Big brother, you've come home!"

Yakko laughed as he carefully placed Wakko back on the ground. "I was busy filming an important song segment about the countries of the world."

"A song about countries? That'll never catch on." Wakko disagreed, giving their older brother a shove.

"Oh, we'll see about that, baby sib." Yakko playfully ruffled Wakko's cap.

"Yakko!" Dot exclaimed, tackling her older brother in a surprise hug.

"Hey, sis!" Yakko replied as he hugged her back. He then glanced over at the two mice: The lanky mouse that wore a purple scarf and the big-headed mouse that was on the couch. "And who else do we have here?"

"Our new co-stars and our new friends," Wakko answered confidently.

Yakko's eyes lit up when he figured out who they were. "Oh yeah, Binky and the Pain, is it?"

"Actually, we're Pinky and The Brain!" Brain corrected as he hopped off the couch and trotted over to the siblings. "But rest assured, Sakko, we're not only your co-stars and acquaintances, but we're the future world leaders-"

"Actually, it's Yakko." The eldest Warner corrected with a pointed hand.

"Right, and now you know how it feels to have your name mispronounced." Brain curtly acknowledged.

"Eh, fair enough." Yakko shrugged in agreement.

"So, now that we're all here, what should we do next?" Dot asked excitedly.

Wakko looked over at the mice and smiled. "Could you guys take us to McDonald's?" He asked.

"What?" Brain sputtered. "Pinky and I don't have enough money to pay for such frivolities, and our next paycheck won't come in until Friday!"

"Oh, there's no need to worry about that, I've got ya covered!" Yakko assured as he took out a brown sack full of money from his hammerspace. "Scratchy is already busy with his patients and we need someone to take us out for some fast food!"

Dot approached the mouse, batting her glowing black eyes and wearing the most adorable pout. "Oh, pretty please Brain!" She pleaded in a cutesy voice.

Brain crossed his arms and frowned, refusing to cave into Dot's powerful cuteness. "Pinky and I have important work to do soon back at the lab!"

"Like watching the latest episode of Seinfeld?" Pinky asked.

"No, Pinky. Our plans for global conquest!" Brain curtly replied.

"But you can't take over the world on an empty stomach!" Wakko argued.

"Ugh, I'd rather consume my hat than McDonald's," Brain sourly remarked.

Yakko carefully inspected Brain with the intention of breaking down the mouse's barriers until he gave in. He tapped his siblings' shoulders and grinned mischievously and began to chant. "McDonald's! McDonald's!"

Soon Wakko and Dot joined their brother in the chanting. "McDonald's! McDonald's! McDonald's!

Brain's eye twitched at the incessant shouts. The Warners began to circle around the mouse. The moment Pinky joined the toon siblings in their parade, that was the final straw. Brain raised his fists and the air and shouted. "Oh, all right! Pinky and I will take you out for some cheap fast food!"

The Warners bounced around the mice in jubilation. While Pinky eagerly clapped, Brain pouted as he bitterly crossed his arms once more.

"Don't be so glum, Brain!" Wakko said in earnest as he picked the grumpy mouse up. "Maybe some happy meals will cheer you up!" He explained while placing the mouse on top of their head.

"Ready to go, sibs and mouse friends!" Yakko asked excitedly.

"Ready!" Dot chirped as she scooped Pinky up in her hands and placed him on top of her head.

"Ready!" Wakko added with a thumbs up.

"Affirmative." Brain tiredly sighed, gripping his paws on the red hat.

"Narf!" Pinky called out.

"I'll take that as a yes," Yakko mentioned. "Now let's roll!"

Yakko opened up the door, hopped on the railing, and leaped off. Wakko and Dot followed suit as they jumped off the water tower to catch up with their big brother. Pinky cheered while Brain let out an anxious "nyaaaah" as they made their descent. Fortunately, the Warners bounced upon the concrete ground with great nimbleness.

"Boingy! Boingy! Boingy!" The Warners chorused as they bounced around the movie lot. Both mice grabbed onto their respective toon siblings as they moseyed about.

On their trail, they passed by Slappy Squirrel, who walked in the opposite direction whilst carrying her green purse. The veteran toon star smirked as she waved at the three children and the two lab mice. "Have fun, you crazy kids." She called out.

As the Warners continued on their merry way, the loud shriek of the officer's whistle shattered their merriment. They looked over to see Ralph the security guard, running up to them as fast as he could with a comically large net.

"Yikes!" The Warners shouted. Revving up their legs, they made a mad dash out of the studio, carrying the mice along with them.

"Alright children, we better make this trip to McDonald's a quick one. For Pinky and I must return to the lab by seven."

"Why Brain?" Wakko asked. "What are you and Pinky doing at seven?"

"The same thing we do every night, Wakko," the mouse grimly replied. "Try to take over the world!"

"Hey, Brain!" The Warner sister sang while snapping her fingers. "Earth to Brain, you come in?"

The mouse shook his head as he looked over at Dot, who cradled Pinky in her hands. His perception of her and her siblings has drastically changed over the years. His fear of the toon children's playful and unpredictable nature was replaced with endearment. Brain regained his focus and returned to the present. "My apologies dear, I was just reminiscing."

"Totally understandable," Dot replied with a warm smile.

The mouse placed the picture book back on top of the pile and approached the Warner sister.

"So did you find all the things you were looking for?" Brain inquired.

"Actually, I lied to you. I only said that just so I could get a ride on your mechanical human suit." Dot confessed without a twinge of regret. "Are you ready to head over to the park?"

"Yes, always." Brain replied flatly as he exited the water tower. After Dot closed the door, he picked her back up, with Pinky in tow, and they flew off.

Back at the studio entrance, Yakko and Wakko were in a heated game of checkers when they heard the loud jet engines purring up above. Brain descended from the air, landing on the sidewalk on the suit's two feet.

"Thanks for the lift, Brain!" Dot chirped as she hopped off from the suit and passed Pinky back to the big-headed mouse, who securely tucked him in the front pocket.

"So, how about we head over to the park for some wholesome fun and merriment?" Brain asked with a wave of his mechanical arm.

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot cheered as they bounced around the suit. With a resounding yes from the siblings, they started to make their way over to the park.

Dot approached Yakko. "Can you give me a piggy-back ride? I wanna save all of my energy for when we arrive at the park."

"Your wish is my command, princess," Yakko answered as he propped his sister onto his back. Dot giggled contentedly as she adjusted herself on top of her brother's shoulders.

Wakko sadly looked on. He couldn't help but feel left out by the sibling bonding. "Can I get a turn soon?"

Yakko looked over at Wakko with sympathetic eyes. "Of course sib, but you have to wait a little while."

While Wakko was relieved that Yakko had not forgotten about them, their shoulders sagged with impatience.

Brain noted the middle child's forlorn frown. The mouse knew exactly how to cheer Wakko up. "You don't need to wait any longer, sport." Using the man-suit, Brain lifted Wakko up and placed the middle child on his shoulders.

"This is awesome!" Wakko cheered, raising their hands in the air.

Pinky looked up from the pocket. "Aww, can I have a turn soon?"

"Don't worry, Dad," Wakko assured. He tried to reach for Pinky, but Brain recognized what he was doing and grabbed Pinky for them, placing the taller mouse into Wakko's hands. Wakko then placed Pinky on top of their hat.

Yakko looked up at Wakko and the mice and smiled. As he carried Dot, he thought of a wonderful idea.

"Hey Brain, I betcha Dot and I will get to the park first." He declared with a mischievous grin. The teen revved up his feet and began to race down the sidewalk. Dot giggled as she held onto her older brother.

"Last one there is a rotten egg!" Dot shouted gleefully.

Wakko looked at their siblings, who were already many paces ahead, and frowned. "Brain, we have to beat them!"

"Don't worry, Wakko," Brain assured. "For I have an ace up my sleeve."

The mouse pressed the buttons on the control panel, causing the jet engines to fire up. A few seconds later, the mechanical human suit rose a few feet above the sidewalk.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Wakko exclaimed.

"Hold on, you two!" Brain ordered as he took off.

Wakko gripped one hand on the suit's shoulder and the other hand on top of Pinky, securing him onto the red cap. The lanky mouse and the middle Warner cheered as they flew above the sidewalk. The trio managed to catch up with Yakko and Dot within seconds. Gripping the control lever, Brain maneuvered the suit's arm and swiftly caught the other two Warners in his hold. The pudgy mouse steered the controls and lifted up the suit to a higher elevation.

Yakko and Dot laughed as they were reunited with Wakko. Pinky felt his eyes watering at the sight of the siblings enjoying themselves while Brain drove the suit. Once Brain located the park, he made a swift descent towards the destination. Pinky and the Warners cheered as they approached the park. Brain slowly turned off the jet engines as he landed near an empty picnic bench. He was able to land the suit on both feet while carrying his passengers.

Yakko, Wakko, and Dot leaped off of the suit and landed on the ground. "We won! We won! We won!" They chanted as they bounced around the picnic table.

Pinky and Brain smiled at the children. They took in the beautiful scenery of the green trees and bushes among the luscious green grass. The mice were eager to have a grand old time at the park with the Warners.

Yakko and Dot reached into their hammerspaces and took out their kites. Yakko's kite had rainbow colors, while Dot's kite had purple and gold stripes. At that moment, Pinky had an idea. "Hey kids, can I fly with you?" He asked.

"Of course!" Yakko answered. "But I don't know if I have a mouse-sized kite anywhere."

"No, no, no," Pinky gently dismissed. "I mean, I want to fly on the kite!"

Yakko and Dot looked at each other before turning their gaze back at the lanky mouse. "Well, in that case, I don't see why not!" Yakko said as he took out some tape from his hammerspace.

"Fly on my kite, Pinky!" Dot cheered as she laid out her kite.

Pinky happily hopped onto the kite and spread himself out. He always had fun when Brain taped him up tight to a chair or the television screen during past plans for global conquest, but the thought of being taped to a kite exhilarated him. "Now don't hesitate to use extra tape! Zort!"

Meanwhile, Wakko took out a blue frisbee and approached Brain. "Hey Dadoo, wanna play frisbee with me?"

"Certainly," Brain answered with a small smile.

Wakko handed the frisbee over to Brain. The mouse gently held the plastic disc in his grip and looked out to Wakko, who ran about twenty feet away.

"Ready!" The toon child shouted.

Brain gripped the disc as he maneuvered the mechanical arms back. Thrusting the lever, he launched the frisbee. The blue disc glided across the air until Wakko leaped up and caught it in their mouth.

Wakko landed on all fours and sprinted down the grass like an eager dog. He then skidded to a stop when he was close to Brain, but managed to dig their heels into the grass and stop before he could collide with the mouse. Wakko contentedly dropped the frisbee in front of the suit's feet, wagged their tail a mile a minute, and panted eagerly with their tongue lolling out.

Brain snorted at Wakko's silliness. While the mouse wasn't sure what animal the Warners were supposed to be modeled after, but he was certain that the middle child inherited many traits found in the average canine. "Do you even know how to throw?"

"No throw!" Wakko replied with an ounce of ferocity in their tone. "Only give!"

The mouse rolled his eyes. "Alright, I think it's high time someone taught you the art of throwing."

With a wave of the mechanical hand, Brain commanded Wakko to stand up, to which the middle child eagerly obeyed.

"Now, the most important element of frisbee is about using the flick of your wrist to impart gyroscopic stability and to accelerate the mass of the disc to a certain velocity."

Wakko tilted his head in confusion.

Brain dejectedly sighed. He thought that his scientific jargon sounded rather groovy. But if he was to properly bond with Wakko, he needed to meet them halfway. "To put it in terms that you can understand, you must be able to use your arm and wrist to throw the frisbee so that it can glide in the air at a decent speed."

Wakko's eyes glistened. "Oh, now I get it!"

To demonstrate, Wakko whipped his arm and released the frisbee, which wobbled in the air and landed straight into a tree with an unceremonious thud.

Brain looked at the disc, which laid limp by the tree trunk, and back at Wakko. "We have a lot of work to do…"

Yakko and Dot were flying their kites, with Pinky strapped to Dot's purple and gold kite. The lanky mouse laughed heartily as he flew up in the air and admired the city from a bird's eye view.

But the fun came to a halt when Pinky and the kite crashed into the tree branch.

Yakko and Dot looked up at the tree with concern for the lanky mouse. "Are you okay, Pinky?" Dot called out, using her gloved hands to amplify her voice.

Spitting out the leaves from his mouth, Pinky responded to the girl's inquiry. "I'm right as rain, sweetie!" But Pinky spoke too soon as he struggled to liberate his limbs from the adhesive of the cheap tape.

"Uh Brain," Pinky called out from above. The big-headed mouse turned to see his partner stuck at the top of the tree.

Brain retrieved the kite (and his partner) from the tree branch and descended back to the ground. He carefully took the tape off of Pinky's limbs, placing the adhesives in his pocket to be disposed of later. Pinky hopped off of the kite and landed in the palm of Brain's robotic hand. Brain carefully picked Pinky up by the fur on his back and gently placed him in his front coat pocket.

"That oughta hold you." Brain told his partner.

Pinky chuckled. "That's funny. You always say that to me before our role-playing sessions."

Upon hearing the innuendo, Yakko looked over at the mice and stared at the fourth wall. He pressed his right hand to his lips, gave it a smooch, and flung it to the side. "Goodnight, everybody!" He exclaimed.

Brain felt the heat rise up in his cheeks at Yakko's iconic catchphrase. "Pinky, the park is a family establishment! There will be no mention of our licentious activities in front of the children!" he berated, pointing over to the Warners, who only giggled in response.

Yakko let out a contented sigh as he fished out his pen and notepad from his hammerspace. Clicking the top of the pen, he placed a checkmark on the box next to 'Making a witty response to a suggestive remark', marking off another goal on his To-Do List. The teen noted the second most important thing he needed to do next. Revisiting a certain segment that was sadly absent from the reboot.

Yakko then turned over to his younger siblings. "So, who wants to help me find the Wheel of Morality?"

"I do!" Dot exclaimed.

"Maybe later," Wakko replied as he fiddled the frisbee. "I wanna play with Dadoo some more, and I think I'm getting the hang of frisbee!" To test out their theory, Wakko threw the frisbee, which landed square in the middle of Brain's mechanical suit and ricocheted back to Wakko, hitting them square in the face. Despite the injury, Wakko eagerly grinned at their siblings and gave them a thumbs up.

Yakko noticed how happy Wakko was with the mice and shrugged. "Suit yourself, middle sib."

"Now let's go!" Dot exclaimed as she tugged at her older brother's wrist. Yakko smiled at his sister as they raced down the walkway in search of the coveted Wheel of Morality.

Wakko waved at their siblings as they bounced off into the distance before turning back towards the mice. He threw the frisbee once more at Brain, who was caught off guard by when the frisbee smacked him on his forehead.

"Ow!" Brain remarked as he took his own hand to soothe his head.

"Sorry!" Wakko replied with a sheepish smile.

"It's fine," Brain dismissed as he approached the middle child. "You have a lot of energy in your throws, but now it's time I taught you how to aim properly."

With Pinky now secure in his suit pocket, Brain returned his game of frisbee with Wakko. The pudgy mouse piloted the suit as he approached Wakko, and guided his mechanical arm to properly show them how to hold a frisbee.

"Now you want to grip the disc like this," He explained, as he moved Wako's hand to make a backhand grip on the frisbee. Wakko watched carefully with their tongue sticking out as he listened to Brain.

"With the disc secure, you want to position your arm backward." Brain continued as he carefully guided Wakko's arm towards their left side. "And then you flick your arm back towards your right and release the disc."

Wakko moved his arm and flicked the disc, which smoothly glided in the air for about ten feet before making a gentle landing onto the grass. The middle child flashed a proud smile at the frisbee and then back at the mice, who gave encouraging smiles in return.

For the next ten minutes, Brain and Pinky enjoyed themselves as Wakko's throwing greatly improved. They started out with five-foot throws and eventually managed to find a steady rhythm as they made more long-distance throws.

Brain tossed the frisbee twenty feet over to Wakko, who caught it in the grip of their gloved hand with ease.

Wakko grinned as he looked back at the mice. "Go long!" Wakko shouted as he made a particularly long throw.

Brain maneuvered the man-suit fast enough to where the frisbee would fall. Taking a big leap into the air, he caught the frisbee but lost his footing. As the suit tripped over to the grass, Brain fell out from his controller's chair, with Pinky following suit.

The two mice tumbled about thirty feet away from the suit and landed near the base of a tree, causing the bluebirds to scatter. Colorful stars swirled around their heads when a blue feather gracefully fell on top of Brain.

Brain pondered for a moment, recalling his childhood days in the meadow when he spent his free time playing 'keep-it-up' with any feather or leaf he stumbled across. As much a The big-headed mouse took a deep breath and blew the feather off of his head. The feather rose up a good measure above the air before descending again. Suddenly, Brain felt his playfulness reemerging after laying dormant for Lord knows how long and decided to keep the feather up in the air.

Pinky's vision eventually cleared and the first thing he saw was his partner merrily blowing at a blue feather while wearing the most endearing smile.

"What are you doin', Brain?" Pinky inquired.

"Playing a little game," Brain answered, his eyes still focused on the blue feather. "The objective is to keep the feather up in the air for as long as possible."

"Zounds, Brain, that looks like fun!" Pinky cheered. The mouse bounced back on his feet and trotted over towards Brain.

The big-headed mouse stared up at the feather, calculating where it would land. He was determined to keep it up for as long as possible. Before he could make his move, Pinky stood beside him and puffed out enough air to launch the feather up to an additional six inches.

Pinky gave a goofy grin at Brain, who chuckled in response.

They took turns blowing enough air to prevent the feather from falling onto the grass. The two mice quickly became so invested in the game that they lost track of their responsibility watching over the Warners.

When the feather was close to landing on a nearby bush, Pinky and Brain collided with each other and fell backward. The mice groaned as the feather swiftly landed next to them. Rubbing their heads, the mice looked at each other and laughed joyously. Brain got up first and eagerly helped Pinky get back up.

Just as the mice stood up, a giant net stealthily emerged from the bushes and swooped them up. Fear and alarm overtook the couple as they struggled in the chafing ropes of the net. Thrown into a fit of confusion, they were unaware of the men in white lab coats until they spoke up.

"Looks like we found the perfect specimens for the separation experiment," A red-headed scientist said.

"You know, it's a good thing it was delayed to this evening. These little mice would make excellent candidates!." The scientist with square glasses remarked.

Pinky and the Brain exchanged terrified glances. The experiment they thought they had evaded was put on hold. A weekend filled with light-hearted antics and bonding was to end with the close mice being separated for an entire month.

Brain looked outside the picturesque park through his roped prison, recalling the tragic day when he was stolen from his family in the meadows as a young field mouse and was unceremoniously hauled away to Acme Labs. Where his innocence vanished and was resigned to the fate of a mistreated laboratory rodent.

Raw determination grappled his fear. Brain refused to allow history to repeat itself again. He refused to be separated from his family once more.

"Hurry Pinky," Brain called out. "Use every ounce of strength you have to tear a hole through this net so we could still escape while we have the chance!"

But the red-headed scientist swiftly picked them up by their tails and carelessly placed them into an iron cage.

Pinky and Brain ran over to the bars. Out from the horizon, they saw Wakko skipping along, carrying the frisbee in their hands. The mice reached out their arms through the bars, using every ounce of energy in their voices to alert the middle child.

"Wakko!" Pinky cried out as tears poured from his eyes. "Please help us!"

"Please, my child! You must do something!" Brain shouted, his voice laced with desperation. "You're our only hope!"

Wakko's ear stood up the moment he heard their frightened pleas. He scanned over the horizon to see the two mice he dearly loved imprisoned in the iron cage carried by the adults in white lab coats. The scientists walked over to the back of the windowless van and placed Pinky and Brain into the back along with the other recently captured field mice.

Wakko felt their heart breaking. Pinky and Brain gave them and their siblings a wonderful and memorable weekend. He recalled Brain standing up to them and taking a last-minute trip to the library so he could get the drawing back. Even Pinky showed his true colors of being a loving and reliable guardian. The mice helped Wakko out and now it was time to return the favor.

"Hey! You let those mice free!" The middle child shouted, running as fast as he could to reach the scientists. "They're my dads!"

But the scientists ignored his pleas as they entered the front seat van. Wakko picked up their pace the moment he saw the van doors shut. But the Acme Labs van started up its engines. Before Wakko could approach the vehicle, it quickly drove from its parking spot and departed from the park.

Wakko tried to pick up his pace, but the van turned a corner and disappeared out of sight. The toon felt their heart thumping in their ribcage. He was the mice's only hope for salvation, and he failed.

Wakko fell down to their knees in defeat. their face crumpling as tears began to fall. He pulled his ears, berating himself for not saving his dads when he had the chance. Tears began to pool from the middle child's eyes. Blinking away their blurry vision, the tears streamed down their face as a sob broke.

"Hey Wakko, we found the Wheel of Morality!" He heard Yakko cheer from a distance. Wakko's stomach dropped. How was he supposed to tell Yakko and Dot that Pinky and Brain were captured?

Yakko and Dot skipped merrily with the intention of showing Wakko the coveted Wheel of Morality. But the siblings stopped in their tracks when the middle Warner didn't budge from their spot and their frame shaking.

Yakko carefully approached Wakko in an earnest effort to alleviate their woes. "Hey Wakko, what's wrong?" He comforted his sibling.

"The Acme Labs scientists took Pinky and Brain away!" Wakko tearfully explained. Yakko and Dot gasped in shock.

Wakko sniffled. "I-I tried to keep up, but the van was too quick…"

Yakko and Dot sympathetically looked on, not wanting the middle child to feel too hard on themselves.

"Dad and Dadoo are in trouble and we need to do something!" Wakko cried. Yakko instinctively knelt down and rubbed his siblings back in a soothing manner.

Dot's face scrunched up as she pondered. "Acme Labs…" She muttered to herself as she retrieved her smartphone from her pocket. She opened up the internet and searched in the lab. She managed to find the establishment's address.

"The lab is only a few miles from here!" Dot informed her older siblings. "If we can hail a cab, then we'd be able to break them out before sunset!"

Yakko grinned at his sister, feeling proud of her initiative. "Sibs, if we want to save our family, then we gotta act quickly!" Yakko announced as he bounced up on his feet.

Wakko beamed at their brother, elated that eldest Warner finally recognized the mice as family. "You mean it, Yakko?"

Yakko placed a gentle hand on his sibling's shoulder. "Of course. They looked out for us, so it's only fair that we look out for them!"

The eldest Warner offered a helping hand, and Wakko immediately clapped it and rose on their feet. With the aid of their siblings, the middle child was determined to save their two dads.

Dot approached the sidewalk and turned over to the oncoming white taxi van. She stuck her hand out in the air and gave a loud whistle. "Taxi!" She hollered.

Right on command, the white taxi pulled up to the sidewalk. The doors to the minivan opened and the Warners clamored into the backseat.

"Where to?" The driver asked.

"Acme Labs," Dot gravely commanded. "And put the pedal to the metal!"

- - - - -

The mice were surrounded in darkness. Pinky and Brian were locked in a protective embrace throughout the duration of the car ride over to Acme Labs.

Brain listened to the frightened cries of the other field mice. He couldn't help but remember the day he was locked away in the Acme Labs vehicle to be separated from his family and home. He never thought that he would relive that painful day.

Pinky held Brain close as his mind raced with all sorts of worrying things. The weekend wasn't supposed to end like this! He and Brain should be back at the park and watching the Wheel of Morality. Brain should be bringing up the proposal to officially adopt the sweet Warner children and start a big happy family together. They should have successfully avoided the separation experiment.

Pinky felt his stomach drop. He didn't like the idea of being separated from his dearest Brain. He remembered the different times he and Brain were apart. Snowball was almost successful when he offered him the amusement park. Then there was the time Brain had a mid-life crisis and insisted that he was better off with his career as a ski instructor. Or the time his hit musical caused Brain to run off. But worst of all was when Mr. Itch planned on separating him and Brain for the rest of eternity.

He detested the thought of not being by Brain's side for an entire month.

"Brain…" Pinky wobbled. "Poit! I haven't been this scared since Mr. Itch tried to separate us for good!"

Brain tightened his grip around Pinky at that painful memory. "The feeling is understandable, dear Pinky," He sullenly replied as he cast his eyes downward.

"And we were just going to start our new lives as parents," Pinky sadly added. As the words escaped his lips, he felt a small ray of hope. "Troz! Maybe the Warners will bust us out of here before the experiment starts!"

Brain's ears twitched at Pinky's relentless optimism, even in the face of hopelessness. The mouse loved to think that he and his partner further strengthened their relationship with the three toons, perhaps to the point of something familial.

The pudgy mouse looked back at Pinky with a small smile. "Perhaps you're right."

But the van screeched to a grinding halt.

Pinky looked through the bars, his long tail wagging excitedly. "Maybe they'll bust through the doors right now and take us back to the studio!"

The backdoors flew open to reveal the same scientists who stole their freedom.

Pinky retreated from the iron bars and launched himself onto Brain with open arms. The smaller mouse instinctively wrapped his arms around his partner's lanky figure, holding on as tight as he could. Their hopes of escape were snuffed out.

"Well, the thought was nice while it lasted." Brain commented in a dejected tone.

One of the scientists picked up their cage and swiftly placed it on a metal cart. Pinky and Brain held each other in a protective hug as they watched the scientists place the other cages onto the cart. Brain couldn't help but notice the terrified squeaks of the various field mice who were robbed of their freedom and to be incarcerated in Acme Labs. The mouse shut his eyes. The memories of his arrival at Acme Labs to the horrific experiments he underwent returned to him.

The first night spent in the cold steel cage. The learned helplessness experiment. Being strapped to a chair and watching painfully bad political advertisements. Receiving painful shocks from the stunning plate in an earnest attempt to obtain some cheese. He and Snowball riding a red toy car that launched straight into a brick wall, rendering them horrifically injured. Undergoing the gene splicer while wrapped in bandages. Losing his first friend after a terrible falling out. Being force-fed cigarettes against his will. Having to pilot a faulty toy plane that ended up becoming a major fire hazard.

Brain's breathing hitched. Thankfully, he felt Pinky's paw lovingly stroke his back in a soothing motion. The pudgy mouse rested his head in his partner's chest. He had to savor the physical comfort while he still could.

Pinky, too, thought about his arrival at the lab. When the scientist first purchased him from the pet store, he thought nothing of it and assumed that he was going on vacation. But as the nights passed, the reality of the situation dawned on him that he might never see his family again. Pinky was thankful that Brain helped him reunite with his folks years later, but for the longest time, he thought that would not be the case. He whimpered at the thought that he might be separated from Brain and the Warner siblings for good.

Once the cages were transferred from the vehicle and onto the cart, the scientist wheeled them away into the research facility.

Pinky started to sob when the fluorescent lights of the lab hit. Brain looked over at Pinky with worried eyes. Although emotions were not his strong suit, he was determined to provide his roommate with some level of comfort.

"Have courage, Pinky," Brain consoled his partner, gingerly caressing his paw. "It'll only be for a month, and we'll soon be reunited."

Pinky gave Brain's paw a tight squeeze in return. "I-I'll try, Brain." He stammered as tears poured from his eyes.

The cart stopped in the middle of the hallway and one of the scientists opened up their cage.

Brain squeezed his eyes tight as he clung to Pinky. While he was aware that being placed in a separate cage that included all of the basic necessities for an entire month was bearable in comparison, being separated from Pinky proved to be its own type of torture in and of itself.

"I love you, Brain." Pinky warbled.

Brain's stomach dropped when he heard those words. Gathering up enough courage, Brain made his feelings known before he was to be separated from the most important thing in this world.

"I love you too, Pinky." Brain solemnly whispered.

The small door to the iron cage opened and a gloved hand dipped down to retrieve one of his victims. The hand tried to pull the mice apart but was having difficulty. Brain instinctively sank his teeth into the gloved hand to retaliate.

The scientist yelped as swiftly yanked his hand out of the cage. "Looks like we've got a biter." He told his associate.

The other scientist snaked his hand through the opening and swiftly grabbed Brain. Pinky's eyes widened when he saw Brain in the clutches of one of his captors. When the other scientist reached his hand into the cage, Pinky was determined to fight back. But the scientist proved to have quick reflexes as he secured his grasp around the lanky mouse and plucked him from the cage.

Brain struggled to release his arms from the scientist's grasp but found it difficult to squirm his way out. He looked over to see Pinky squirming in the other scientist's hold whilst looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Brain!" Pinky cried out.

Brain stared at his partner as they were forcibly separated by the callous scientists.

"Pinky…" He exhaled, tears dampening his ivory cheeks. Brain watched helplessly as he was carried away into a testing room.

A scientist with blonde braided hair shut the door right away. Brain inspected the room and the many white coats. Two of the head scientists he recognized. The older gentleman with silver-grey hair and a middle-aged woman with brown hair that was held together in a ponytail. There were six other scientists, all of them in their early twenties and straight out of college.

The red-headed scientist placed Brain on when the middle-aged scientist with red hair cleaned the tip of his right ear with a disinfectant wipe. Just as he twitched at the moist sensation, he felt a hard sting when the scientist pierced his ear with a silver metal tag.

The mouse was overcome with shame. While the piercing was far less painful than the time he was branded with the black A tattoo on his leg during his youth, it wounded his pride just as much. The silver ear tag was another cruel reminder that he was not a mouse with autonomy and ambition, but a mere piece of property to a corporate laboratory.

"Subject A-93," The woman muttered as she scribbled his notes onto the clipboard. Brain grimaced at his slave name.

The older scientist grabbed Brain from the table. He walked over towards a glass cage that was placed in the middle of the room, opened up the top cover, and lowered the mouse inside.

Brain inspected the prison he was to reside in for the next month. The ground was covered in straw, there was an exercise wheel, a bowl of food pellets, and a full water bottle. Not much different from his old cage. The only thing that was missing was Pinky.

The mouse stared at his reflection in each of the four sides of his glass cage. "Drat!" He muttered to himself. If he were placed in a cage similar to his green one, then he would easily have picked the lock with his tail and made a daring mission to rescue Pinky.

Brain ran to the side of the cage and angrily pounded on the glass wall, desperate to make an escape.

He saw two of the scientists talking to each other as they scribbled down in their notes. Brain peered at the older man's lips as he spoke.

"Over the course of the month, we will be studying the emotional intelligence and cognitive thinking of the common laboratory mouse and how it will cope with a month of being separated from its closest partner."

"No need to remind me," Brain bitterly remarked, knowing full well his sarcasm would go unnoticed by the scientists.

The mouse paced around the straw floor, pondering the different means of escape. There was the matter of telekinesis. Brain hoped that Pinky would use his special abilities to break free and rescue him. But the more he thought about it, the more doubtful he became. While Pinky had no issue with controlling his telekinetic powers, the only problem is that his partner's powers tend to come and go.

He then thought of the Warners. Perhaps Pinky was right, and that the Warners could liberate them from the lab. Brain was certain that he and Pinky made a great impression on them so that they would be willing to rescue them from the lab, right?

But Brain shook his head. He didn't want to get his hopes up only to be let down if they didn't show up.

The mouse looked over at the scientists, one of which was by the refrigerator. Perhaps if one of the scientists opened up the cage and lowered their arm, Brian could climb up and make a run for it. He would somehow rescue Pinky and they would make their escape from the lab.

The lid of the cage opened and placed a small plate of cheese in the center.

Brain set his sights on the slice of swiss cheese just as the scientist quickly shut the lid on top of the cage.

The mouse felt his heart slam against his chest as he stared at the large piece of swiss cheese.

Brain knew that there was no stunning plate underneath the cheese. There were no clamps or electrical wires that connected the plate to the shock device. But the familiar image was a painful reminder of the trauma he endured as a child.

He glanced over at the scientists, who were not the same ones who performed the experiment during his youth, as managed to read the head scientist's lips. "The objective of this first test is to see how the subject will react to new stimuli without the aid of his partner. During the first week of testing, we'll examine how the mouse would react to different types of food before moving on to common household items."

Brain looked back at the cheese and took a few steps back. He clutched his jagged tail, noting each zig-zag mark was the result of being electrocuted by the stunning plate. He shook his head in disbelief. This had to be some cruel trick. To be separated from his beloved Pinky only be stuck with a painful reminder of his childhood trauma.

Closing his eyes, the mouse turned away and ran towards the wall, slamming into it. Brain curled his paws into fists and began to pound at the wall in a desperate attempt to escape. With each punch, he was reminded of how utterly helpless he had become. No longer was he an ambitious intellectual with dreams of world conquest. As the punches slowed down, he stared into his reflection, reminded that he was a sad and pitiful rodent only to be used as fodder in the name of science and human curiosity.

Tears flooded his eyes and blurred his vision. Brain shook his head once more. He hated feeling vulnerable. The mouse blinked away the hot tears as he continued to pound at the glass wall. The scientists stared at the mouse with indifference as they scribbled into their notepads.

Brain fell to his knees, feeling a great sense of despair from the unfeeling researchers. Bowing his head down in defeat, the mouse continued to sob, feeling totally helpless.

AN: This is the beginning of the end of this story.

I apologize for the long hiatus. I had a lot going on with my personal life, as well as experiencing writer’s block. Fortunately, I managed to overcome that hurdle as of late, and I’m already polishing up the last two chapters, so I'm hoping to finish them as soon as possible.

This chapter was a little challenging (especially the tone change in the last third), but everything is gearing up towards the climax. I had a lot of fun putting in several references to past episodes from the original Animaniacs, the Pinky and The Brain spin-off, and the Animaniacs reboot. I also decided to place a flashback to when the mice first met the Warners because I wanted to establish how these two groups initially crossed paths and how their relationship was founded (as well as having a callback to the McDonald’s joke from Chapter Three).

To the folks who are still reading this story, thank you for your patience and I’ll do my best to wrap up the last chapters on a shorter schedule.

Thanks for reading!

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #patb #brain #pinky #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner

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ethanlivemere · 3 years

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Half-Life²: Anticitizen - Chapter 2

(Prologue and chapter 1 can be found on my profile)

Chapter 2

Friendly Faces

Barney Calhoun was a valued member of the Black Mesa Security Force. He did his job well and was particularly respected by the other security guards for his ability to passive-aggressively give a piece of his mind to some of the more pompous scientists who treated the security team as their inferiors, without ever directly disobeying their orders. He was the kind of guy you could grab a beer with after work – something I had been meaning to do for a long time before the… incident. I had always felt I had more in common with him than any of my fellow scientists: not only did we both have the bad habit of not being the most punctual, but he also gave a me a good run for my money when it came to my high scores on the Black Mesa Hazard Course. While other scientists were busy competing for grant money, I was out trying to one-up Barney at the shooting range.

I thought he was dead. That he had been lost in the aftermath of the Resonance Cascade, eaten by a bullsquid, or worse, turned into a grotesque zombie like so many others. And yet, here he is, standing in front of me with his arms spread as he cheekily grins at me, now sporting the black Metropolice uniform instead of the familiar BMSF standard-issue bulletproof vest and helmet. His face, previously hidden behind the white gasmask, looks older than I remember. The first hints of gray have started to appear at the base of his dark hair and in his 5 o’clock shadow. His face looks tired and worn out beneath his cheerful expression. The eyes are what give it away: I’ve seen the same exhausted eyes on every citizen I have encountered so far. They’re the eyes of a man who has been through hell. Well, I guess that’s one more thing we have in common.

“Surprised to see me?” Barney asks, noticing the probably visible confusion on my face. “Well, that makes two of us, Gordon. Where’ve you been? It’s been ten years, man!” Ten years. So the man in the suit was telling the truth. It’s really been ten years since Black Mesa. What happened in that time? “Sorry about the scare earlier, I had to put on a show for the cameras,” Barney says, pointing over his shoulder at the disabled scanner on the ceiling. “Listen, I know you have a lot of questions but I can’t keep you here too long. I’ve been working undercover with Civil Protection, we need to get you out of here before they get suspicious. All I can tell you for now is that if you thought Black Mesa was as bad as it could get, well… you’re in for a nasty surprise.” He turns around and starts fiddling with the console. Symbols flash on the screens, the same symbols that I saw on the Consul’s broadcasts and the red bands on the shoulders of the Metrocop uniforms. Whatever they are, Barney seems to understand them.

“Okay Gordon, we’re gonna try to get you to Dr. Kleiner’s lab. It’s not too far from here, in an old warehouse in an industrial part of the city.” Kleiner? Does he mean… Isaac Kleiner? Could he be alive too? “I can’t take you there personally unfortunately, I have a shift to get to if I don’t want to blow my cover. But I’ll let one of my guys in the streets know you’re coming, he’ll show you the way.” Barney walks to a small window that looks out over an equally small courtyard. He opens it and looks out. “Go through that door over there. You should be able to get to the plaza. My guy will meet you there.” He walks back to the desk and starts putting the front of his mask back in place.

I look through the window. It’s about an eight foot drop; nothing I can’t handle. The claustrophobic courtyard is empty save for a trashcan lying on its side on the mossy tiles. The door Barney was talking about is the only entrance or exit. I look back to the once again unrecognizable Barney. I briefly thank him, and he salutes me with two fingers. “I’ll see you later, Gordon. Try not to draw any attention to yourself,” his distorted voice sounds through the mask. I nod him goodbye and swing my leg over the windowsill, effortlessly jumping down and landing safely. I look up and see the window being closed. I guess I’m on my own again.

The rusty door takes me to a small boiler room, which leads into a short corridor. I let my instincts and the faint sound of the Consul’s voice guide me through the station and I soon find myself in the entrance hall. Like the rest of the building, it is a dilapidated remnant of former glory. What once were ticket booths have been transformed into some sort of dispensing machine, which slowly spits out featureless brown packages into the eager hands of the shabby citizens who form a long, patient queue under the watchful eye of Metrocops. Above them, the Consul spouts the same repeating message: “Welcome to City 17.”

A woman walks by, clutching her newly received package against her chest. I can now see some of the alien symbols on the brown, paper-like exterior, as well as some readable text: 4 rations. She glances at me but quickly directs her eyes back to the ground in front of her as she walks towards the exit. I follow her to the large, wooden double doors. She takes one hand off the ration packet to open the door, but in doing so looses her grip on the packet and drops it on the floor with a soft thud. She nervously glances around as she quickly picks it back up again, and I decide to help out by opening the door for her. I try to give her the warmest smile I can fake as she walks by. “We can’t be seen talking to each other,” is the only thing she mutters to me under her breath as she heads out into the daylight.

Although… daylight might be an exaggeration. The sight that greets me when I step outside is no different in tone than the station and the train ride before it, yet it still shakes me to my core. The plaza consists of a small, empty fountain surrounded by dead hedges and flanked by two tall pillars, each topped with a bronze statue of a prancing horse. Plastic bags, empty bottles and other kinds of small trash litter the otherwise empty street surrounding the plaza, and the only vehicle is a large armored car surrounded by a patrol of Metrocops. The few citizens that walk the street keep as close to the surrounding buildings – abandoned stores and boarded-off hotels – as possible. It is then that my eye falls on the gigantic structure that emerges beyond the buildings. It’s a looming spire of rust brown metal that forms an irregular shape I recognize from the various posters around the train station. Its exact height is impossible to tell as it disappears into the greenish clouds that obstruct the sky, but there is no doubt it is incredibly large – so large, in fact, that I’m amazed it took me so long to notice it. Several of the metal plates that layer the outside of the structure seem to move at very slow paces, almost as if the building is alive, and sometimes it looks like something flies in to or out of one of the many slits and crevices in the jagged exterior.

I tear my gaze away from the ominous sight and scan the plaza more attentively. Barney said he would have a guy tell me where to go once I got out of the station, but I can’t spot a single citizen not minding their own business like their lives depend on it – which they probably do. I walk down the stairs in front of the station’s entrance. I follow the citizens’ example and keep close to the buildings, heading the opposite way of the Metrocop patrol. I duck into a shadowy doorway to get out of their sightline and look around again when I hear a hushed “Hey!” coming from a bit further down the street that sprouts from the plaza. I see a young man beckoning me from another doorway. I glance around for Metrocops, decide that the coast is clear and hurry towards him. He is dark-haired, wears the same familiar citizen’s uniform and looks to be about my age… come to think of it, what is my age? Barney was about my age at Black Mesa, but the ten years since then are clearly visible on him, while the few times I’ve seen my own reflection since my ‘awakening’ hadn’t shown me any changes in my own appearance.

The man pulls me out of my thoughts when he grabs my arm and pulls me into the shadow of the doorway. “You’re Freeman, right?” I nod. “The name’s Jeremy. Barney told me to get you to Kleiner’s.” He looks at my chest, where Samuel had earlier noted the absence of an identity tag. “We won’t be able to get you through checkpoints since you’re not a registered citizen. Just follow me.” He starts walking down the street and looks at me over his shoulder. “It’s great to have you with us, Freeman. There’s no doubt you’ll be a great help in our fight against the Combine.”

I follow Jeremy through the abandoned streets of City 17. He seems to be excellent at avoiding Civil Protection, because we never cross them; I only ever see them in adjacent streets. Sometimes they are accompanied by an armored vehicle, sometimes they are stationed at a barricade of black metal, watching people get scanned before a gate opens to let them through. I guess these are the checkpoints we can’t pass through – or at least I can’t. While we walk, my guide confirms what I already knew: after the Resonance Cascade, Earth was invaded by an alien empire he calls the ‘Combine’, who laid waste to the planet and enslaved humanity. The otherworldly skyscraper in the middle of the city – called the Citadel – is their bastion. Apparently, every city has its own Citadel, but the one in City 17 is special in that it is also the residence of the Consul – Earth’s new leader.

He then tells me about a resistance group fighting back against the Combine rule. He says there are many resistance fighters outside of the city, but that Barney and Dr. Kleiner lead the more covert operatives within City 17. He remarks that I probably know Kleiner and I nod. I don’t just know Isaac Kleiner, he was my professor and mentor at MIT. I was one of his favorite and ‘most promising’ students (his words), and when I applied for the position of research associate at Black Mesa, it was Kleiner’s recommendation that got me the job, where I worked alongside him on the Anomalous Materials team until… Well, let’s try not to think about that too much now. It seems there are bigger issues at hand than regret.

Even though we successfully evade the Metrocops and their checkpoints, the Combine is visible everywhere in one way or another. For a start there is the Citadel always towering over the rooftops, a menacing silhouette on the dark sky. But the old, human-built buildings have also been corrupted by Combine technology. Large, complex locking mechanisms cling onto old wooden doors like tumorous growths. Smaller versions of the enormous wall I saw surrounding the city fill up gaps they themselves made, obsidian metal swallowing brick and stone. Watchtowers and other Combine structures have been planted on top of buildings, walls and roofs bending under their weight. Cables and pipelines run across and through walls like vines sprouting from concrete. There’s something almost fascinating about how the stoic, geometric order of the human city and the clean, essentialist order of the Combine tech overlap in a patchwork with chaos and destruction wherever they meet.

A rhythmic sound has been growing louder for a while now. Upon listening more closely, I realize it’s the sound of marching. An army marching. Jeremy rounds a corner and stops dead in his tracks. “Damn it… not good.” Down the street, at an intersection with a wide boulevard, I see dozens of soldiers walking in formation. They look a lot like Metrocops, but their masks are dark gray and they wear thick padding in camouflage colors instead of the black uniforms. They carry automatic rifles and their heavy combat boots send echoing thuds through the streets. I see several people standing by, watching the military procession walk down the street. My companion walks closer and I cautiously follow him. “Really not good. We have to cross this street, but this parade blocks our path.” He looks to both sides as if estimating its length. “I can’t even see the synths yet. This could easily go on for another twenty minutes. We can’t wait that long.” He looks up at the buildings flanking the street and points to a skyway that connects two apartment buildings on either side. “There.” I follow him down the street as he heads towards a large opening in the wall of the apartment building with the skyway. The opening is closed off by a cast iron fence, but its lock seems to have been broken for a long time and Jeremy simply pushes it open. It turns out to be a passage to a courtyard between the apartment buildings, with dark, vigilant windows and balconies looking out over it.

“Okay, you’re not supposed to come here if you don’t live here, so technically we’re trespassing,” Jeremy says to me as we make our way to the exterior staircase on one of the high walls surrounding the courtyard. “Then again, you were already illegal, so-” He cuts himself off abruptly freezes, seemingly listening. Over the still loud marching I can hear a soft, mechanical whirr with an occasional beep. Jeremy looks up and immediately grabs me. “Combot!” he shouts as he pulls me in the direction of the nearest door. I catch a brief glimpse of a floating drone with a single yellow eye before a bright, white flash blinds me. I stumble backwards and Jeremy, presumably also blinded, starts swearing with panic in his voice. The slow beeps of the drone turn into an alarm as I slowly regain my sense of sight, and when I can properly see again I find it’s still hovering in the same spot. By now I have seen enough examples of Combine technology to recognize that this so-called Combot is another one. Four metal flaps surround its eye, which has now turned red as it shines its flashlight onto us and continues its alarm.

Jeremy grabs me again and pushes me towards the staircase. “Look, it’s too late now. They know we’re here, there will be Metrocops swarming all over this place in half a minute. You gotta get out of here and get to Kleiner’s. I’ll hold them off.”

I try to object but am interrupted by a distant female voice echoing through the air: “Attention, Civil Protection team: unauthorized civil activity detected in residential block 67B. Investigate and report.”

Jeremy looks to the sky as if he’s looking for the source of the disembodied voice and then looks back to me. “Go through the residential block across the street, through the industrial district. Barney will meet you at the Manhack Arcade.” He points to something on the wall next to the stairs: between the various graffiti is a familiar Greek letter drawn in orange paint. “Follow the lambdas. They indicate safe routes for Resistance allies. Go!”

I hesitate for a second. I don’t want to leave him behind in the clutches of Civil Protection, but he doesn’t seem like he’s planning on going anywhere, so I give him a respectful nod before turning around and running up the stairs. I go as fast as I can, and I am almost at the top when I hear footsteps and the shriek of the broken gate. I look down and see several Metrocops run onto the courtyard with their batons ready. Jeremy puts his hands on his head before he gets grabbed by two Metrocops and forced onto his knees. One Metrocop steps forward. He looks different than the others, wearing a trench coat and carrying some kind of radio pack on his back. He asks Jeremy a question I can’t understand and when he doesn’t get an answer, he gestures to one of the Metrocops holding Jeremy down. A flash of blue as a stun baton is planted in Jeremy’s side. His body shakes a second before he falls to the ground. The trench coat-wearing Metrocop, probably an officer, barks a couple of brief orders. I can only understand a couple of words: “There were two”. I have to get out of here.

I ascend the final steps as quickly and as quietly as I can. There’s a wooden door at the top. I fidget with the handle. It’s unlocked. I open it, slip inside, and close it behind me. No time to rest. I hear the Metrocops coming up the stairs, and the Combot’s light seeps through the crack under the door. Got to keep moving. I scan the hallway. Apartment doors. Staircase. It’s dark: there are no windows and the lights don’t work, but there is daylight coming from around a corner down the hall. My footsteps echo on the brown ceramic tiles as I run past the closed doors and onto the skyway we had seen from below. Down in the street, the Combine troops are still marching. There are different units among them now. Hulking, mechanical figures, appearing to be almost eight feet tall, carrying enormous alien weaponry no human would be able to carry. These must be the synths Jeremy mentioned. Nestled deep in the armor between the bulky shoulders is something that doesn’t seem completely mechanical. I don’t stay to have a better look. Something tells me it would only disturb me.

I hear Metrocops banging on doors as I start making my way down the stairs of the building on the other side of the road, occasionally followed by a crash of splintering wood. The Metrocops bark orders at panicking citizens as they search the apartments. I use their preoccupation to put more distance between us, sincerely hoping my actions don’t get any of the inhabitants into serious trouble. I descend creaky stairs that wrap around the grating of an elevator shaft. A man stands in a doorway, curious about the noises that echo all the way from the other building, while a woman behind him urges him to go inside and close the door before they get here. I make brief eye contact with the man as I descend. My look must give away that I’m the cause of the tumult, because he whispers to me: “Go through the back door on the ground floor. I never saw you.” Another plea from the woman and he retreats into his apartment and closes the door.

I’m not sure I can trust the man. He might be leading me into a trap, or maybe he will point the Metrocops to where I went when they come knocking on his door. But right now, I have little choice but to accept all the help I can get if I ever want to reach Dr. Kleiner. When I reach the ground floor, there is an entrance hall with rows of mailboxes and a transparent door that leads out into a large street. I can see why the man told me to go out the back: it’s the street where the hordes of soldiers are still marching. I look around for a back door and find it in a windowless, unlit room filled with cardboard boxes. I have to move some of them to get the door open. Beyond the door is a courtyard much like the one where we got spotted by the Combot. The coast seems clear.

I can already tell which way I have to go. Amidst a tapestry of graffiti, there is another lambda drawn in orange spray paint next to a narrow passage. As I follow its guidance, I wonder why they chose this symbol for their ‘safe passages’. I mean, I can certainly guess where they got it from. Word must have gotten out about the Lambda lab’s part in stopping the Resonance Cascade – though, ultimately, it hardly saved Earth. Plus, no one at Black Mesa can really be praised for solving a problem we caused.

Having time to think again as I walk through the alleyway, I ponder exactly what happened to me during the ten years I was in the dark void. By now, I have come to the conclusion that I haven’t aged. My hair and beard haven’t grown, I haven’t gained or lost weight, my joints and muscles aren’t sore. But at the same time, my wounds and bruises from the Black Mesa incident seem to have completely healed. None of the clothes I’m wearing are clothes I have ever owned, yet my glasses are the ones I had on me during the Black Mesa disaster. The ones I managed not to lose throughout all the perils I faced and were cracked and stained with blood by the end, but now rest on my face clean and unscathed.

My memories of the void are a blur, like a distant dream. If it weren’t for the radically changed world I find myself in, I would think it never happened. On top of that, my memories from before the void have also gone blurry – or, rather, before Black Mesa. I can remember Black Mesa like it was yesterday, but my life before Black Mesa (MIT, high school, my parental home…) feels like a vaguely remembered childhood memory, even the things that happened when I was well over twenty. Is this his doing? Is he trying to erase the person I was, only to leave a mindless fighting machine in his stead? Or is it merely a result of the deterioration of a mind over the course of ten years of isolation?

I’m no longer walking between apartment buildings. The streets are narrow and the walls are all brick and pipes and steel beams. Steam rises from grates in the ground and mixes with the faint fog that hangs between the buildings. There is a constant whir of machinery coming from behind the walls. A train passes overhead on the elevated tracks while a lone Combot combs the empty streets. I try my best to stay out of its sight. The train sounds its horn. The Combot rounds a corner. I get the impression the sky has gotten even darker since I left the station.

A strange contraption stands lonely on the sidewalk. It’s a cylindrical tank filled with red liquid, cradled in a humming machine with green gauge lights and power cables running into the wall behind it. Like all other Combine technology, it looks extremely out of place, like someone just dropped it on the street and punched jagged holes into the wall to fit the cables. The Combine clearly plant their machines and facilities wherever they need them without a care for whatever was there before. It makes me angry, of course, but the irony doesn’t escape me. After all, it’s exactly what we did on Xen.

There is a silhouette in the dark liquid. Vaguely humanoid, curled up into a fetal position. I can just about discern a large red eye, half-closed, on the creature’s head. Even through the thick liquid, the shape appears… familiar. It seems impossible to believe, but it almost looks like…

“The Freeman.”

The voice behind me startles me and I spin around. Before me stands a green, hunched over figure with shackles around its long neck, wrists and ankles. All of its red eyes are on me and a vestigial third arm extends itself towards me. If there was any doubt about the creature in the tank, here it is unmistakable: I am standing in front of a Vortigaunt.

“At last, the Combine’s reckoning has come.”

Chapter 3

_________________________________

Yes, you read this right: chapter 2 of Anticitizen, which has been in production since July 2020, is finally finished! And boy, is it a long one! 4000 words, and yet we still haven't even gotten to Dr. Kleiner's lab! (Don't worry, we'll get there soon).

Anywho, here are the accompanying images:

Beta Citadel

Combot

Metropolice officer

Combine Guard synth

Industrial district

Vorti-cell

I'm very excited to finally have this done and ready to be read. I think (and really hope) the next chapter won't take as long. As I said in the last progress update, I have been doing a lot of overarching planning for the story which will make writing easier.

I have made a rough estimate of the story and predict it will be about 32 chapters long, though it's much more likely to be more than that than less, judging from the fact that it's taking 3 chapters just to get to Kleiner's lab. The thing is, you can't predict the length things will have in this story by looking at their length in the game. The opening requires a lot of describing and mood-setting so it's much longer than the short intro in the game. Story parts will be longer than they are in the game, while action parts will be shorter than they are in the game (looking at you, 'Canals' and 'Highway' sections).

By the way, I have started uploading Anticitizen to Reddit now under the name EthanLM427. Do with that what you want.

Anyway, that's it for me. I promise I won't take as long for the next one.

#anticitizen #half life #half life 2 #half life 2 beta #my writing #fanfiction #gordon freeman #barney calhoun

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dreamlover31 · 3 years

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Love Will Find a Way: Chapter 32

While stretched out on the examination table, Alexa twirled the small sterling silver band that was wrapped around her finger, tiny diamonds surrounded its outer core with three medium sized ones as its centerpiece.

She smiled softly as they sparkled via the lighting in the room, meanwhile, the events of the other day, when Rafael proposed marriage, still resonated within; slowly, her train of thought deepened. Alexa envisioned a small gathering with only close friends, especially Olivia, who had become like a sister to her ever since the day they met, and of course Rafael’s mother Lucia, who overtime became more of a mother to Alexa than her own.

The wardrobe for the affair would be traditional on the part of the groom, however, the form of Alexa’s dress would consist of something simple but elegant with a touch of class, as she continued to lay out the details of the upcoming wedding; the faint sound of a door being opened broke her concentration. The focus quickly shifted to the young woman clad in a lab coat holding up a clipboard.

“Hello, so how are we doing today?”

“Well I’m about to push a human bowling ball through my pelvis and I can’t see my feet anymore, so all in all I’m doing alright”

The doctor chuckled as she walked towards the table, “Well I’ve got your test results and overall you and the baby are doing exceptionally well, blood pressure is a little high but it’s nothing serious”

“Well that’s good”

She took a moment to look around the room and found that Alexa was shy of one person, “Will your husband be joining us today?”

Alexa’s face softened, “He’s not my husband…yet, but he said he’d try to make it…he’s in the middle of a very important case…”

Suddenly, the door creaked open at that very moment, Alexa and the doctor looked forward to the person that appeared through the doorway, her face lit up when it was revealed to be Rafael.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I tried to be here as fast as I could,” he joined Alexa at the opposite end of the table where he placed a small peck on her forehead, she reached for his hand, to which he was more than happy to interlock with.

“It’s ok, the doctor was going over my test results. She says the baby’s doing fine but that my blood pressure was a little high”

“Is that something we need to worry about?”

The doctor chimed in, “No, it’s pretty common among pregnancies, she just needs to maintain a healthy diet and avoid any kind of stress” Rafael nodded as he held Alexa’s hand, the young woman stepped towards the sonogram machine where she informed them that she was going to check the development of the baby.

During its initial setup, the ultrasound gel was dispensed onto Alexa’s stomach, once the machine was up and ready, the ultrasound wand was pressed on top of her rounded figure. As the wand spread out the conductive gel, Alexa and Rafael watched the monitor, within a few minutes, an image formed…one of their fully developed, yet to be born daughter.

The grip on Alexa’s hand tightened as they continued to gaze upon their beautiful child, after the doctor made a few notations on the clipboard, she concluded that per her analysis that little Nadia was due any day now. Before, she exited the room, the young woman handed Alexa a paper towel to wipe the gel from her belly then passed pictures of their daughter. When they were alone, she straightened her blouse and let out a small breath, just then; Rafael’s warm hand began rubbing against her back…with that, their eyes linked.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, I can’t believe that any day now…we’ll be bringing a new life into this world”

“I know,” he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss upon her lips.

They checked out at the reception desk, Alexa was scheduled to be induced a few days after her due date, the couple walked out the front door and headed towards the parking lot. Halfway towards the SUV a man’s voice called out:

“Mr. Barba”

Alexa and Rafael turned around to find an older gentleman, from the look of things, appeared to be the same age as Rafael if not older; he wore a navy-blue suit with a trench coat draped over it. He stepped towards them, but while his face expressed friendliness, something about him sent shivers up Alexa’s spine. She looked upon Rafael, whose joyous expression faltered into one that masked the feeling of dread and aggravation that ran deep beneath his veins, it was then her attention shifted back to the mysterious stranger in their midst.

“Excuse me, but do we know you?”

“Barba…aren’t you going to introduce me to your fiancé?”

Rafael turned towards Alexa and calmly explained: “Alexa, this is Robert Davalos…my boss”

Davalos extended his hand only to be met with a sense of distrust disguised by a small nod on the part of Alexa, the older man grinned as his hand slipped into his trench coat’s right pocket, then the focus was redirected back to Rafael.

“I noticed you leaving the doctor’s office, is everything alright with the little one?”

“She’s fine, thank you” Rafael responded curtly.

He raised up his hands and said, “Now there’s no need to get all defensive, I’m just expressing genuine concern over a fellow employee’s loved ones…nothing wrong with that is there?”

“Why are you here,” Alexa steadily grew uneasy at the way the situation was escalating.

“I was hoping that the father of your child and I could have a little chat”

“I’m sorry…but we have a busy day ahead of us, now if you’ll excuse us…” the two of them turned on their heels to walk away until…

“You know I was quite impressed with the way you handled your most recent case”

The comment seemed to stop Rafael dead in his tracks.

“Even after I asked you nicely to walk away…you stood your ground. I mean that really struck a chord with me, reminded me a lot of when I was an up and coming DA…I aspired to make a difference in the world and had a big ego to boot. Until one day I realized that to get ahead, you have to play the game…and I’m afraid it’s a lesson that you might have to learn the hard way”

After that last sentence, Alexa whirled around and gave him a look that shot daggers through his eyes.

“Are you threatening him?!”

As soon as she began to charge forward, Rafael put his hand up on her chest to prevent her from inflicting any kind of bodily harm on either party, the response towards this display of aggression was a snicker from the amused older gentlemen.

“Careful now, wouldn’t want to go into labor early, now would we?”

“Alexa, go wait in the car”

“Why, I’m not afraid of him”

“Alexa, just please do as I say”

She refused to let this man intimidate her, but ultimately decided to heed Rafael’s insistence and climbed into the SUV, Rafael shifted Davalos’ direction back to him without wanting to land a punch at the smug little grin he was showing.

“My, my, she’s quite the little spitfire, isn’t she?”

“I’m going to say this once…you leave me and my family alone, do we understand each other”

“Mr. Barba…I don’t think you’re in any kind of position to make threats, especially when you have more important matters to attend to. It was a pleasure meeting Alexa, hopefully I’ll receive an invite to the wedding…until then, enjoy the rest of your day Mr. Barba and be safe out there”

He winked then walked away and disappeared among the vast rows of cars in his wake, while in the SUV, Rafael turned on the engine and pulled out of the parking space. During the ride, back to the brownstone, silence enveloped the vehicle, but when they made entry; Rafael made haste towards the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of scotch and a small glass.

He poured the amber liquid and brought it over to the living room along with the bottle, then placed it on the coffee table, Alexa trailed behind and sat across from him on the couch; Rafael picked up the glass and gulped it down in one shot then poured himself another drink. He doused the second and third one in quick succession, as he was about to go for a fourth, Alexa set her hand on the side of the bottle and slid it from his grasp.

“That’s enough”

Rafael sighed as he slumped backward, she looked at him saddened, it pained her to see him shaken up especially by a man with delusions of grandeur and drunk on power. Her hand reached over and palmed his knee, from the corner of his eye, he met her sympathetic stare at his haggard appearance.

“Don’t let that asswipe get to you”

Rafael faced Alexa, and with a serious look, he grabbed a hold of both of her hands and declared, “You know that I would never let anything happen to you, right?”

“I know”

Alexa rested her head on Rafael’s chest, his arm wrapped protectively on top of her stomach, she held onto him just as tightly. His lips peppered her forehead with soft kisses, however, on the surface, he put on a brave face but Davalos’ words replayed over and over internally, for the first time in his life; Rafael felt a twinge of fear at the pit of his stomach.

Suddenly, it was as if she could read his thoughts, Alexa tilted her head upwards to where their eyes met then the tips of her fingers grazed along his cheek as a sign of comfort.

“Nothing’s going to happen…not when I’m here…safe in your arms”

“I love you…you and Nadia are my whole world, if anything were to happen to either of you…I don’t know what I would do”

“Listen to me, that prick doesn’t know who he’s messing with…you are the strongest, bravest man I’ve ever known. Plus, you have one of the elite squads of the NYPD at your side…trust me, we’ll rest easy”

Rafael felt more at ease from the sound of her words, his face was reanimated with new life as he smiled, their lips became one filled with unsurpassed bliss and warmth. Alexa lowered her head back on to his chest, the beating of his heart lulled her into a deep sleep, not long after; Rafael’s lids began to weigh and within a matter of seconds, his mind drifted off to a restful slumber.

Tagging: @madpanda75 @laceybellerain @southern-magnolia @tropes-and-tales @madamsnape921 @teamsladsandgents @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @glimmerglittergirl

#rafael barba #raul esparza #love will find a way

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banashee · 4 years

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Second Time is the charm

"Oh God, who's dead or dying?"

Tony turns around, spatula in his hand and a confused look on his face.

"Huh? No one is dead or in the process of getting there. I'm just cooking."

"Yes you are. Which is why I'm asking."

"Rude, Pepper." he gestures with the hand holding the spatula, accidentally flicking sauce in her general direction. "Oops, sorry 'bout that."

Pepper looks at him, unimpressed. She does that a lot. Then, she dips a finger into the drop of sauce on the counter top, and in an spontaneous boost of bravery, tastes it. To her credit, she manages to keep a mostly straight face, even when her insides shrivel up at the sensation - there is a whole lot of salt and little else. Probably a bit of an burned aftertaste, too.

Tony, however, is well practiced is reading her micro expressions - they've been friends for too long.

"That bad?" he asks, and Pepper just looks at him, very very flatly and then nods.

"Who are you planning to feed this to, and what horrible thing did they do to deserve this?" she asks, getting a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water from the fridge dispenser.

Tony sighs, waving the spatula around as he talks, splattering sauce around the kitchen once again - Pepper tries to side steps the mess.

“This was supposed to be a test run. You know the wedding anniversary is coming up and I was gonna surprise Clint with a nice dinner at home. He cooks all the time and I wanted to return the favor, but, well.” he waves at the half burned and over salted mess on the stove. Then, Tony dips a spoon into the pan to taste it - his face scrunches up in disgust and he drops the spoon into the sink and nearly dumps the pan after it, making a gagging noise and glares in the general direction of the ruined dinner.

“Maybe not. Unless giving your partner food poisoning is considered romantic these days. Even then… Okay so this was a shit idea.” he grumbles, clearly annoyed and more than a little disappointed.

Pepper has been typing on her phone ever since she learned the reason for the cooking attempt, making thoughtful noises. Now, she quickly walks over to stop Tony from making any harsh decisions right now. Gently, she grabs him by the shoulders, stirring him away from the stove. He lets her, and her next words are firm but reassuring.

“Stop. Don’t move. Help is on the way.”

As if on cue, footsteps come closer to the kitchen. A familiar voice says,

“Please tell me nothing caught on fire.”

And another sighs, “Oh dear.”

In the doorway stand Bruce and Steve, clearly expecting the worst and prepared for everything. Tony would be offended but as it is, they’re his best hope right now. Pepper may be a good moral support, but she hates cooking, so he is actually happy to see those two.

“Not yet but I’m working on it.” he quips back, grinning brightly for a few seconds with one of his million dollar showman fake smiles. Then his face falls.

“Please help, I’m about to throw this whole thing out the window.”

Pepper leaves them to it, with a small smile and a kiss to his cheek she turns to the door.

“You got this. Just don’t attempt doing this alone on the day and you’ll be fine.”

Meanwhile, Bruce inspects the concoction on the stove with a mildly curious expression that he’s often wearing in the lab, mainly when something unexpected and slightly concerning happens and he wants to see how it’ll work out. Steve, in good foresight, pulls out more ingredients from the refrigerator.

Both of them taste the sauce, despite Tony’s warning protests. They taste it very, very carefully and it’s a testament to their friendship that they do so - neither of them spits it back out but the cringe is enough.

“Okay, let’s start neutralizing the salt for one.” Bruce decides, and who would have known that heavy cream and honey help with that - so does the stretching of the liquid. In the end, the three of them manage to salvage the meal, and even more so, are able to enjoy it despite the burned bits they need to pick from their plates.

A little while later, when they clear the table and get to washing up, Steve says,

“Let us help on the big day, alright? Just to be safe.”

“Please do.” says Bruce, and Tony huffs a laugh as he stands in between them.

“I hate you both.” he claims, but the fact that he’s got one arm wrapped around each of them and the happy smile on his face betray him. Pulling his friends close, he adds, “Really tho, thank you. I would totally screw this up otherwise.”

“We know, that’s why we’re here.”

“Oh, fuck you!” he scoffs, but they’re all laughing.

*+~

On the morning of the second wedding anniversary, Tony wakes up to a text message from Clint.

‘On the way back rn, debrief on base after. Might even make it home on time! :) I Love you’

It brings a happy smile to his face, even early in the morning before he’s had coffee. This mission had come up last minute as always, and the possibility of them having to spend this day apart had been quite high. As it looks now, they might at least have a nice and quiet evening together, and it’s more than they could have hoped for.

Tony types a reply,

‘Good morning beloved, that’s great news - you better get your ass over here asap, I miss you ;)’

Then he opens up another chat, his ongoing conversation with Natasha which for about 60%, consists of memes and links to obscure YouTube videos.

‘Hey-o, can you please let me know when you guys are wrapping up at HQ? Possibly distract Clint if you finish early? Gotta prepare a surprise. Should be done around 7-ish.’

Her reply comes almost instantly.

‘Sure thing. Happy anniversary :)’

‘Thanks, Itsy-bitsy. You’re the best :)’

‘I know.’

The day passes surprisingly fast, then. One moment, Tony is relaxing on the couch, drinking coffee while Lucky sprawls happily over his legs as he scratches the good spot behind his ears and then, his phone alarm goes off that tells him he’s got a cooking date with Steve and Bruce. And because these guys are amazing friends, they show up on the door to the penthouse just in time for the three of them to start preparing a nice three course dinner.

It’s fun, and with the “adult supervision” Tony finds himself perfectly capable of doing this.

Once upon a time, this would have been impossible.

“Tony, you’re one of the smartest people alive and you have many talents - but cooking isn’t one of them.” he’s been told on more than one occasion, and it’s been true for most of his life. But things are different now - he wants to learn. He wants this small part of everyday life.

Those last few years, he finds himself happier than he can remember being, possibly ever, and it feels simply amazing to have this - this life, this love. This family .

Just as he’s put the main course into a low oven to keep warm, the door opens just in time for him to enter the hallway, and then Tony gets pulled into a embrace and lifted off his feet for a moment. He holds on tight, then he pulls Clint down for a proper kiss to welcome him home.

“Hey there.”

“Hey yourself.”

The two of them take their time in greeting each other, and despite being apart for only about a week, it feels like they haven’t seen each other in forever. And it’s their anniversary, for fuck’s sake. They’re allowed to be as sappy as they damn well please - at least until Lucky interrupts them because he’s tired of waiting and jumps up on Clint until he’s slobbered all over his face and happily demands cuddles right then and there.

Dropping his duffle bag to the floor, Clint asks Tony what he would like to eat and it causes him to smile knowingly.

“Can I cook for you?” he asks, and Clint looks at him, blinking.

“Right now? I mean… Don’t take this the wrong way Babe but is that… Safe? We can just order something in if you want.”

“Trick question, I already did. Well, I had help. So it won’t send us into the hospital if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“Wait, you-” Clint steps closer to him, gently placing his hands on Tony’s upper arms as he smiles at him. There is something soft in his eyes, and Tony falls in love all over again.

“You made an effort to cook something for today even though you almost never do?”

“Yeah, I- I wanted to do something nice for today, and I didn’t know when you’d be home so I didn’t book anything. Besides, you cook and bake all the time for us, for me , and well. I appreciate that a lot and I just wanted to do this for you. I had help, but yes. Come on!” He pulls him into the dining room, which he’d actually decorated. Nothing big, just a few candles and a bouquet of flowers but it does look nice.

On the table, there is a large bottle of Asgardian mead, a gift for them that Thor left before he went to spend the weekend with Jane in New Mexico. It’s strong, and more than even the two of them can finish in one evening. But it’s good, and they know it.

The dinner is relaxed as always, and they enjoy each others company and the conversations - anything and everything they can talk about, and while Clint fills him in on the latest SHIELD gossip and rumors, some of which leave Tony laughing hard enough that he almost chokes on his mead, he tells him what has been going on back home, including the first dinner mishap and how their friends had saved his ass.

In the meantime, Lucky has made himself comfortable under the table, chewing on one of his giant treats.

They’re just starting on the main course - steaks with garlic potato casserole and roasted asparagus, when Clint says,

“This is really good, Tony. Thank you. For the effort and for doing this.” He smiles, and reaches over with one hand, which he happily takes and squeezes back.

“I’m glad you like it. And it makes me think that I should do this more often, since, well, you do it all the time. Seems fair to do my part, you know.”

“You do other things all the time. It’s just… Both of us do different things, and that’s okay with me. I like to cook, you build and fix stuff.” He shrugs. “Love languages and all that.”

A while ago, they’d talked about that for a bit, and it’s true. They show their love and affection in different ways sometimes, and that’s okay - they know and recognize these things by now, and it only helps them understand each other better.

“Well, cooking is kinda fun.” Tony says then, and a big smile spreads all over Clint’s face.

“We could do that together if you like. I could teach you and we could try new recipes!” He’s clearly excited about that, in this familiar and almost childlike way of his, and it’s all Tony can do to agree. God, he loves this man so much.

By the time dessert is on the table, they share that and a pot of coffee and have moved their seats even closer together, ankles hooked around each other.

“Oh hey, I’ve got a surprise for you, too.” Clint says then, as if he just remembered but he pulls and envelope from somewhere on his person which makes it clear he’s been waiting. The envelope is thick and slightly off-white - clearly good quality paper. Curiously, Tony opens it up.

There is a card, and it looks handmade. Sturdy, structured paper, and two birds on the front - parrots on a tropical island.

On the inside, there are just a few words written, in Clint’s familiar large scrawl, but it makes him smile widely.

‘Voucher for two weeks vacation on Bora Bora. All responsibilities back home are covered’ it says, followed by a time frame, ‘Happy anniversary. I love you’ and a lopsidedly drawn heart.

“Aw, that’s great! Thank you. How did you manage that all is covered?” Tony asks, beaming at Clint - it’s been too long since they actually had any time off without being interrupted via The End Of The World. And they’re in desperate need of a break and some alone time.

Clint just grins. “Magic and good friends.” he says ominously, and leans close to Tony, pulling him into a soft kiss as he runs one hand through his dark hair.

Once they break apart, Tony takes both of Clint’s hands in this, and despite being happy and content he looks a little bit nervous - there is no need to, he knows, but still. Clint seems to catch on to it, looking at him with his head crooked slightly to the side.

“So, uh, dinner wasn’t the only surprise I had for tonight.” Tony says, and takes a deep breath.

“This is kinda ridiculous, given for how long we’ve been together already and especially how that happened, but. I was wondering, would you like to marry me agan? Sober and properly this time?”

The answer comes almost instantly, in the form of another long kiss and an enthusiastic “Yes, of course!”

It takes them a while to let go of each other again. But they happily continue drinking coffee and eating chocolate mousse, simply enjoying the time together.

“Same day?” Clint asks, pragmatic as always - neither of them is great at remembering important dates - two different wedding anniversaries would be too much for people like them who were to forget their own birthdays if it wasn’t for JARVIS and teammates who know them too well.

“Yes, please. Everything else would just call for a disaster.”

“It would. And hey, we can avoid Fake Elvis this time!”

Tony laughs out loud. “I’m sure he will be heartbroken.”

“Oh well.” Clint shrugs, grinning. “He’ll live.”

*+~

Prompt No. 54: “Can I cook for you?��

#banashee writes #65 Random Prompts #ironhawk #fluff and humor

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samirshah18 · 3 years

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Plastic Dispensing Bottles Market Demands, Analysis, Size, Trends, Revenue by 2027

Global Plastic Dispensing Bottles Market By Capacity Type (Below 100 ml, 100-500 ml, 501-1000 ml, Above 1000 ml), Material Type (Polyethylene Terephthalate (PET), Low-Density Polyethylene (LDPE), High-Density Polyethylene (HDPE), Polypropylene (PP), Other Plastics), Application (Chemical and Pharmaceutical Industry, Automotive and Manufacturing Industry, Test Laboratory, Path Lab and Diagnostic Centers, Hospital and Healthcare Industry, Others), Country (U.S., Canada, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, Rest of South America, Germany, France, Italy, U.K., Belgium, Spain, Russia, Turkey, Netherlands, Switzerland, Rest of Europe, Japan, China, India, South Korea, Australia, Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, Indonesia, Philippines, Rest of Asia-Pacific, U.A.E, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, South Africa, Israel, Rest of Middle East and Africa), Industry Trends and Forecast to 2027

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Plastic Dispensing Bottles Market report present the modern marketing statistics that are imperative to verify the performance and thus, make prominent judgments for profitability and growth. Further, the research presents the prominent players in the market along with their details and facts such as contact details, sales, market share, and product specifications & pictures.

The major players covered in the plastic dispensing bottles market report are DWK Life Sciences GmbH, Bormioli Pharma S.p.a.,, Thermo Fisher Scientific Inc., Avantor, Inc., Akey Group LLC., Dynalab Corp., Lameplast., SKS Bottle & Packaging, Inc., Adelphi Healthcare Packaging, BrandTech Scientific, Inc., VWR International, LLC., Comar,LLC., Qorpak, P.P.C., Inc., Bel-Art Products, Capitol Scientific, Inc., Bürkle GmbH, among other domestic and global players. Market share data is available for global, North America, Europe, Asia-Pacific (APAC), Middle East and Africa (MEA) and South America separately. DBMR analysts understand competitive strengths and provide competitive analysis for each competitor separately.

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Table Of Content

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jarridbryning-blog · 4 years

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Water Dispenser

Haier is perhaps the biggest producer of white products on the planet: when you need significant machines, there is no better source. Haier, which representatives 60,000 individuals all through the world, has been positioned 86th on the 500 Most Influential Brands by World Brand Lab. It is the main Chinese brand to get through the best 100 for a long time running. President Zhang Ruimin was named as one of the Most Respected Business Leaders on the planet by Financial Times, just as one of the Most Powerful People in Business by Fortune Magazine. Haier has gotten various differentiations and honors, including a World Climate Award from the UN Development Program and the US EPA in 2000. For what reason does this make a difference for the buyer? Since it reveals to us that the Haier apparatuses we welcome into our homes will be of the best quality. The entirety of your apparatus needs, from dishwasher and cooler to wine basement and water allocator, will be all around dealt with Haier.

Food and drink are the two extraordinary necessities of life. Water and wine are two of the world's most established and most well known refreshments, and Haier has planned an assortment of items to keep them cool and new. Top quality plan and sensible costs consolidate to make these items unquestionable requirements for homes all over the place - particularly homes with water and wine connoisseursDrinking water is probably the most beneficial decision we can make for our bodies. It keeps us hydrated, which enables our bodies and psyches to perform at their ideal level. Purchasing dispensable water bottles, be that as it may, isn't such a sound decision for nature. In 2005, 30 billion plastic water bottles were bought: it is the most mainstream drink purchased, however sadly, it is the least reused. Just around 12 percent of the containers were reused, with the rest going to squander in landfills or being burned. We have additionally begun to hear a great deal about BPA in water bottles, which can settle on the solid decision of drinking water appear to be somewhat less advantageous.

We can't - and shouldn't! - quit drinking water, yet we should change how we drink it. Rather than purchasing water in a store, put resources into a Haier water gadget. You will in any case get a similar incredible hydration and medical advantages without the huge shopper squander that plastic jugs produce. One refillable container with your gadget will spare untold measures of plastic and vitality used to create them. A container is priceless - both for you and for nature. So it's better for the world, better for our bodies - is it better for our spending plans?

We should see.penser typically costs under $20 for a 5-gallon bottle. Thus, by and large, you have burned through $140. Presently, when that water bottle is unfilled, you essentially top off it. Over and over. On the other hand, you can purchase a 16-ounce jug of water for about $1.50. On the off chance that you get one every day, that is about $550 per year. In any case, that is not by any means the only expense for that 57 gallons of water: you are additionally utilizing 114 additional gallons for creation, 37 megajoules for assembling, 9 gallons of oil, and contributing 68 pounds of carbon dioxide to the air. Or then again you could simply top off your resuable water bottle (even from the tap in case you're feeling particularly cheap), put it in your Haier water distributor, and spare yourself and the world a ton.

The Haier WDNS145 is a full-size standing distributor that can likewise change over to a table-top model. It has a capacity compartment in the base with a removable rack for cups or supplies. There is a treated steel supply, a blower cooling strategy, a removable dribble plate, and a LED power pointer light for hot and cold water. You can get a glass of reviving, cold water or snatch your cup and get some boiling water for tea or espresso. It's flexible - and you can set aside cash by not accepting some espresso (or two) every morning. The Haier WDNS402VS Table-Top Hot/Cold Water Dispenser has a fridge compartment, including significantly more accommodation for about $180. Both water distributors are ideal for homes, workplaces, lounge areas, and anyplace else there are parched individuals. Haier realizes wine just as it waters.

Their line of wine coolers offers extraordinary accommodation, heavenly appearance, and sensible costs. The HVT12ABS 12-Bottle-Capacity Table-Top Wine Cellar is one of their more famous models. It is a conservative table-top wine cooler that can oblige up to 12 jugs of wine on three chrome racks. It has a movable indoor regulator so your wine will consistently be chilled flawlessly. With its silver-managed, twofold sheet protected glass entryway, recessed handle, smooth dark outside, and super calm engine, this wine basement is impeccably quiet in any home. It tends to be found for just $130. This is a fairly square-molded model, yet there are a few, including the Sunpentown WC-1271 ThermoElectric 12-Bottle Slim Wine Cooler, that are taller and slimmer. There are additionally models with more noteworthy or lesser container limits. You can locate the privilege Haier wine chiller for your home here.

In case you're to a greater degree a can than a jug individual, no apprehensions. Haier makes a few models that will oblige a blend of wine jugs and brew and soda jars. The Haier 150-Can Beverage Center, for instance, holds, well, 150 drink jars. The alluring little refreshment cooler is made of excellent steel; it includes a security lock and key, movable indoor regulator, and programmed inside light. There are four movable, strong dark vinyl drifted racks. You can eliminate the lower rack to oblige bottles too. It is adaptable and ideal for gatherings and social events.

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microlitusa · 3 years

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Ultimus - Top Acid Bottletop Dispenser | Microlit USA

Microlit offers the best bottle top dispenser with dual-inlet functionality to dispense reagents from 2 inlets. It has high chemical compatibility and smooth dispensing, recirculation valve technology to prime instrument without loss of reagent and fully autoclavable at 121° C. This bottletop dispenser is designed with ergonomics and intuitive liquid handling in mind that facilitate most user comfort in the laboratory. For details, visit the website https://www.microlit.us/product-category/bottle-top-dispensers/

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psychosistr · 5 years

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Don’t Cost a Thing- Part 2

Summary: Steelbeak bitterly reminisces over the mission that turned his life (and his romantic preferences) upside down.

Notes: Now we get to have some backstory from Steelbeak as he deals with his first ever bi-panic xD

-First Part-

Domino wasn’t gonna wear the watch- Steelbeak could tell.

He didn’t need to go to his apartment next door to ask. He didn’t have to sneak a camera in there to look (he wasn’t that much of a creep- well, at least not to his partner, he wasn’t). He didn’t need Domino to try giving him back his gift (again).

Steelbeak could just sort of feel it. He’d gotten pretty good at that sort of thing lately…

With a frustrated groan, Steelbeak slumped over in the chair at his dining room table, letting his head hit the hard-wood with a dull thud (and a more prominent “thunk” from his beak hitting it).

“What’s a guy gotta do t’ get noticed around here?!” He asked no one in particular before sitting up when the timer in his kitchen went off.

Needing to vent his frustrations, Steelbeak shoved his hands in his pockets and muttered to himself while walking into his kitchen to check the state of his dinner. “No good, uptight, gift-refusin’, moody..” His mumbled insults towards his partner trailed off for a moment when he had to slip on an oven mitt and reach into the oven, pulling out a sizeable tray of roasted vegetables and potatoes.

“Flirty, smart-mouthed, good lookin’..” His insults were starting to sound less like insults as he assessed the state of his food and deemed it done enough to eat.

“Charming…cool…clever…” He wasn’t even trying to insult the loon anymore as he pulled out a bottle of red wine and a single wine glass from the wine rack above his counter.

“……” He stopped completely when he saw the deep red color of the wine as it filled the glass. It wasn’t the right shade of red- not even close- but it was enough to make him think about the startling red color of Domino’s eyes and how much he’d grown to enjoy the looks he’d see in those incredibly distinctive orbs. “Shoot…can’t even eat in peace…”

Deciding that he needed something to calm himself down before he’d be in any mood to eat, Steelbeak turned off the burner that was currently cooking a steak with sautéed mushrooms, figuring they wouldn’t burn at this point, and took his wine into the living room with him so he could enjoy a little pre-dinner drink by himself.

He sat down in one of his more comfortable leather arm chairs by the large window that allowed him to look out over the city lights in all their late-night glory. Gulping down his first glass of wine like it was nothing, he quickly refilled it with the bottle he’d brought in with him.

Staring down into the deep-red depths of his glass, Steelbeak’s mind wandered for the umpteenth time back to the night that had started this bittersweet feeling festering inside of him…

It was a pretty standard mission, all things considered: There was an elusive target that F.O.W.L. wanted to track.

The easiest way to do it? Have two of their top agents stakeout the target’s favorite bar and slip a microscopic tracking device in his drink when he wasn’t looking- giving their bosses precise knowledge of their target’s movements and location for an extended period of time.

The hard part? The guy was a notorious lone-wolf- literally, as he was a member of the infamous “Wolf-Pack”, a group of highly paid wolves that ran a multi-billion dollar law firm that had crossed F.O.W.L. one too many times. He was a stickler for his routines, always going out to the same bar every day after work, staying just long enough for a couple of drinks, and then leaving without talking to anyone more than what was necessary. The higher-ups wanted information on where their target went after leaving the bar, as he always seemed to shake any surveillance unit they assigned to watch him.

The obvious method would have been to replace the bartenders or a server with an agent, but this place had high security due to the wealthier clientele they catered to- everyone that worked there was put through as many security checks as the guests, meaning it would be nearly impossible to replace someone without someone else noticing, even if it was for just a minute.

The second most obvious method would have been to just bribe the bar tender, but doing so in the past had resulted in other customers guilty of such offers being forcibly ejected from the premises.

This left the agents with only one method at their disposal: Directly depositing the micro-tracker in the target’s drink AFTER he’d ordered it. A trickier tactic, but not as impossible as some tasks the duo had been given over the course of their partnership.

They’d come in separate cabs so as not to draw attention, with Domino arriving about ten minutes before Steelbeak and seating himself in the furthest back corner of the horseshoe-shaped bar top. By the time Steelbeak had arrived, Domino was already conversing with the bartender while the tall falcon poured him a glass of cola.

“Startin’ the party without me, Deedee?” Steelbeak asked while taking the vacant seat next to his partner.

Domino took a sip while Steelbeak placed his own drink order. “Unlike you, I don’t believe in drinking while on the clock.”

“Or off it..” Steelbeak mumbled under his breath, not caring if the moody loon heard him or not. Things were quiet between them for a moment while Domino drank his soda and Steelbeak waited for the bartender to walk away and start mixing his own drink for him. “So…the patsy here yet, or what?” He kept his voice low enough that no one would overhear them, but not so quiet that it would seem suspicious- a perfect blend to simulate normal private conversations.

“Secondary bar towards the back- third seat on the left in the pin-stripe suit.” Domino answered, matching the rooster’s tone perfectly. “He got here two minutes and twenty-three seconds ago and just received his first drink.”

“Looks like he doesn’t waste any time either- you two’d get along great.” Steelbeak commented wryly after receiving his concord in a martini glass. He took a long sip before continuing the conversation, reaching into his coat pocket to pull out an extremely small envelope. “By the way, the boys at the lab had some very unfortunate news for us…” He passed the envelope discreetly over to Domino under the bar.

Domino kept one hand on the bar while opening the envelope with the other one out of the line of sight of anyone who may pass by. A glance down into the opened envelope caused the corner of his beak to turn down in an irritated scowl. “Seriously? Only two?”

“Yeah, yeah, that was my reaction, too.” Steelbeak replied with a roll of his eyes at the memory of the cowering scientist that he helped get re-acquainted with the inside of his storage cabinet when he’d been given the bad news.

Domino’s gaze returned to their target at the other bar. “He usually doesn’t stay for more than two or three drinks, so that means our chances are limited to one attempt per drink…great.” He said the last word with an air of dead-pan sarcasm to further show his displeasure with the situation.

“Not much we can do ‘bout it now- ‘less YOU wanna be the one t’ call up F.O.W.L. high command and tell ‘em we can’t finish their little stalking mission.” Steelbeak finished his drink and set the glass down on the bar. As he looked at the empty glass, he got an idea that made a slow smirk spread across his face. “Or..we could make this a bit more fun.”

Domino easily picked up on the challenge hiding within Steelbeak’s statement. “I’m listening.”

Steelbeak held up two fingers. “Two trackers, two of us. How’s about we each get one and take turns seeing who can get old fluffy over there t’ drink one first. Loser pays the tab tonight- you in?”

Domino just rolled his eyes at the offered wager. “Sounds like YOU’D have more to win from that then me.” He gestured to their emptied drinks in indication. “Last time I checked, a soda didn’t cost as much as a concord.”

“Fine, if you’re gonna be picky ‘bout it- drinks tonight and dinner tomorrow.” Steelbeak conceded, raising his empty glass towards Domino in lieu of a handshake. “So, you in or what?”

Domino picked up his glass after considering the wager for a moment, tapping it to Steelbeak’s own to seal the agreement. “You can go first.”

“Oh, what a gentleman.” Steelbeak remarked sarcastically before grabbing his micro-tracker from the envelope and making his way over to the other bar. The wolf was already getting his second drink for the night, meaning their time on this was short. Deciding to go for the more subtle approach, Steelbeak kept the tiny device gripped carefully between two of his fingers and waited for the right moment to strike. Then, he saw it- the far more inebriated groundhog beside their target was getting up from his seat and stumbling his way with a bottle of beer in his hand. Steelbeak positioned himself just right as he walked so that the intoxicated groundhog bumped right into him, spilling some of his beer on his suit in the process (an unfortunate but necessary casualty in the line of duty). “Hey, I’m walkin’ here!”

“Sh-Shoot, sorry, man.” The groundhog slurred out, quickly retreating away from the irate rooster before he could get his much smaller butt kicked by the towering fowl.

The spectacle was just enough to get the wolf at the bar to glance over and Steelbeak heaved a long-suffering sigh once he knew he had the other man’s eyes on him. “Un-be-lievable..” He sat down in the recently vacated seat and brushed some of the suds from the beer off of his suit’s coat to reveal the darker spot beneath. “Just my freakin’ luck..” He turned to the wolf next to him and nodded towards the napkin dispenser on the other side of his glass. “Hey, fuzzy, mind if I get some o’ those?” He began to reach towards the dispenser. This was gonna be easy, he’d just drop the tracker in his glass while reaching for the napkins and-

“Here.” The wolf said suddenly and picked the dispenser up, placing it in front of Steelbeak on the counter. “Hope that comes out.” He added before downing the rest of his drink.

“…….Thanks.” Steelbeak fought the urge to glare or look as irked as he felt at being so unintentionally and thoughtlessly blocked in his attempt.

Well, there went his chance.

He wiped the beer off of his suit and tossed the dirtied napkins onto the bar before taking the walk of shame back over to where his partner was waiting for him at the other bar.

“Well, that was quite a show.” Domino remarked to him with a smirk when he sat back down in his previous seat. “I especially enjoyed the part where you got to look like even more of a fool than usual.”

“Yeah, yeah- laugh it up, wise guy.” Steelbeak said with a roll of his eyes. “I’d like to see YOU do any better.”

“Well, if you insist.” Domino replied with that same infuriating smirk on his face.

And with that the loon rose from his seat and smoothly made his way over to the other bar, weaving through the crowd of drunken socialites with a clear ease that came from years of training and mastery in the art of blending in with a crowd- if Steelbeak hadn’t been watching him directly, even he probably would’ve lost track of the nearly colorless bird.

As he waited to see what sort of plan his uptight partner had up his sleeve, Steelbeak ordered another drink from the bar. He sputtered and nearly choked on his autumn fizz when instead of trying some sort of stealthy, subtle approach like dropping the tracker in his glass when the poor shmuck wasn’t looking, Domino actually sat down right next to the guy and started talking to him. No clever set up, no false pretenses, he just slid right into the same seat that Steelbeak himself had occupied not even five minutes ago and started conversing with the other man with an air of confidence and charm that usually meant he was-

Oh.

“Unbe-freakin’-lievable..” Steelbeak said to himself with an air of disbelief while wiping the alcohol from his beak and chin. “Is he actually FLIRTIN’ with that yutz?” As he continued to watch it appeared that, yes, that was indeed what the other bird was doing. He’d seen him flirt with enough guys by this point in their partnership to recognize that charming smile and the look in his eyes well enough. Much to his ever-present annoyance…

The flirting got worse (or better, depending on who you asked) when Domino ordered a drink from the bartender. Actually, scratch that, it looked like he’d ordered TWO drinks- one for himself and one for the man he was flirting with. The drinks set down in front of them looked similar enough, both of them being dark and fizzy with a bright red maraschino cherry garnish, but Steelbeak would bet a few hundred that Domino was just drinking a Roy Rogers rather than the likely cocktail of rum and coke the other man got. He watched as the pair clinked their glasses together, taking a brief break from their conversation to take their first sips.

Once they’d started talking again, Domino apparently decided to kick things up a notch and removed the cherry from his glass, popping the whole thing into his beak with a seductive look in his eyes and- no way. There was NO WAY he was going to-

Aaaaaaand, he did. He’d tied the cherry stem with his tongue and turned it into a neat little bow that he pulled out and set aside while winking at the now-blushing wolf. Steelbeak was too far away to hear what they were saying, but, from what he could gather reading the other bird’s beak as he spoke, he seemed to be making a comment about “enjoying cherries”- wow, talk about misleading innuendo.

While the wolf was still reeling from the dark-feathered bird’s demonstration, Domino reached over and slowly began to trace the rim of the poor sap’s glass with one finger before plucking the cherry from its resting spot on the rim and smoothly stole it to repeat the earlier action. The wolf was too enamored to notice, but Steelbeak had seen it- the tell-tale shift of Domino’s fingers while they’d been over the glass reaching for the cherry.

The son of a gun had actually DONE IT. Well, so much for getting some free drinks tonight…

With his mission completed, Steelbeak expected Domino to abruptly get up from his seat and come back over to gloat about his success in the face of Steelbeak’s failure. Much to his surprise, however, that did not happen. Instead, Domino seemed perfectly content to stay and continue chatting the well-dressed canine up for a bit longer while they both lazily nursed their drinks.

Someone who didn’t know Domino that well would just assume that the intelligent loon was simply staying there to make sure his job was done properly- making sure that the target finished his drink and consumed the tracer without incident.

Steelbeak, however, KNEW Domino by now. He knew when Domino was being overly-cautious and ensuring that his work was being done correctly. He knew when Domino was just trying to maintain his cover and avoid arousing suspicion. And, lastly, he knew when Domino was enjoying himself and having fun.

While his reason for staying over there may have been a minor combination of the first two, it was most assuredly the latter that was keeping him over there for as long as he was.

“Wow, Dom, would it kill ya to have some standards for once?” Steelbeak muttered before shotguning the rest of his drink and demanding another one from the bartender. He needed something to take his mind off the chatty pair across the room.

Steelbeak spent the next excruciating chunk of time (in reality it was only about ten to twenty minutes) pounding back a collection of differently colored but equally strong drinks and keeping an eye on his partner. It was honestly as infuriating to watch as it always was whenever Domino found a man that caught his eye- the way he’d talk so smoothly and casually, the way he’d look at the other guy with that charmingly suave smile of his, the way he’d give them those looks that’d make them grin or blush. Honestly, it was like watching an entirely different person from the sour-faced partner he was used to.

Domino being grumpy, he could handle. Domino losing it when someone touched him and beating said someone to within an inch of their life, he could handle. Heck, he could even handle Domino being sarcastically snarky and smart-mouthed with him- if anything, the way he smirked was the closest thing he’d ever given Steelbeak to an actual SMILE.

But his flirting…his flirting was something that Steelbeak could NOT handle.

What made everything even worse for the poor rooster was that he just didn’t understand WHY it bothered him so much to watch his partner flirt with other guys!

At first it was because the other bird was so open about his preference for the same gender over the opposite that it made Steelbeak more than a little uncomfortable- he was a lady’s man and he couldn’t even begin to fathom why someone would choose hard edges and solid muscle over soft curves and invitingly squeezable assets. He’d gotten over his general discomfort with that part, though- if that’s what the guy was into, then so be it, he just wouldn’t be able to see the appeal, personally.

He knew it wasn’t because he disliked the way the other bird flirted with anyone that caught his eye only to leave them high and dry later, his own morals weren’t high enough to care about that. Steelbeak himself was a master in the art of flirting and seducing- he’d had more dames then he could even bother to count (seriously, if he had a nickel for every girl he’d successfully chatted up, he’d probably be rich enough to buy out half the world’s private islands)- and he did the old “love ‘em and leave ‘em” bit every time without a care if he’d see them again.

And, though he loathed to admit it, Domino’s technique was surprisingly impressive. Steelbeak was well-versed in how to use flirting as a weapon when the need arose, and Domino, honestly, matched his skill level perfectly. If one of them set their eyes on a target of their own personal interest, whether it was for work or for fun, they’d have that person eating out of the palm of their hand in no-time flat. Domino’s current display only served as a perfect example at how skilled he was at what he did.

Still, despite crossing off every possible reason for why it COULD bother him, Steelbeak had yet to figure out exactly why it DID bother him. After all, what his partner did for fun was completely up to him, just like it was none of the loon’s business what Steelbeak did for his own entertainment.

Watching the pair across the room finish up their drinks, Steelbeak started on his sixth cocktail (a bellini in a chilled champagne flute), with the alcohol levels slowly starting to get to him. “Gee, Dom, take your time, why don’t’cha?” He grumbled after downing a decent portion of his champagne and puree mixed drink. “Ain’t like I’m waitin’ over here or nothin’..” That probably wasn’t a fair complaint, considering they were both technically waiting for their ride- F.O.W.L. wasn’t sending a car around for them for at least another ten minutes, so they had plenty of time to waste as they saw fit. Regardless, he still wanted the red-eyed birds attention off of the stupid wolf that had eaten up so much of the other man’s time and back on HIM so he could be smiled at like that and- “What?!” Steelbeak’s own train of thought startled him so badly that he nearly choked on his drink and he coughed a few times, having to hit himself on the chest to help clear the bubbly champagne from his windpipe.

The bartender asked if Steelbeak was okay, but he waved the question off with a nod of his head and a flick of his hand after being handed a few napkins.

Once he was cleaned up and the burning in his throat had ceased, Steelbeak stared down at his half-empty glass with a pensive expression on his face.

Did he REALLY just think about wanting Domino to look at him the same way he did that loser beta-male of a wolf?

Sure, he found the flirting annoying. And sure, he wished the other bird would smile at him once in a while instead of just giving his same smirks or annoyed scowls. And sure, he found it a little irritating that the guy never even ONCE hit on him like the other poor saps he came across. Seriously, was he not good enough for him or something? He was good looking, charming, suave, well-dressed, had more than twice the brains of Domino’s usual choices, and knew him way better than those chumps did, anyway. If the darker bird should’ve been flirting with anyone, it should’ve been HIM.

……

Oh.

Oh NO.

Nuh-uh. Nope. No way. No how. Not in a million years.

There was absolutely NO WAY that Steelbeak- suave, good looking, intelligent, lady-killer and chief agent of F.O.W.L. STEELBEAK- had the hots for moody, no-fun, Dominic “touch me and you’ll die” Domino.

It was absolutely crazy!

Sure, they worked well together on missions and stuff, and Domino’s wit was something he enjoyed when it wasn’t used for picking him apart with insults, and he didn’t look half-bad when he actually SMILED now and then- but that was different from actually liking the guy, right?

…

Right?

……

..Someone please tell him he was right or he was seriously going to have a panic attack over this…

“Not a fan of peaches?” A distinctively deep voice suddenly asked him.

“Wha-?!” Steelbeak nearly jumped out of his feathers from shock before turning around to see the very man he was just thinking about now standing behind him with his arms folded over his chest and a brow quirked at the rooster questioningly. “Do NOT sneak up on me like that!” The metal-mouthed fowl snapped at the red-eyed aquatic bird.

“I wasn’t aware that I could.” Domino looked Steelbeak over with that piercing gaze that he could easily recognize- he was mentally picking apart the larger bird’s appearance and posture to figure out what was going on in his head. “Of course..I suppose you WERE a bit distracted.” He cast a poignant glance towards the several empty glasses lining the bar in front of Steelbeak before reclaiming his previous seat next to him. “Do you usually drink this much on a mission?”

Steelbeak rolled his eyes and pounded back his final drink (he made a mental promise not to go any further and risk embarrassing himself in front of his partner) of the evening. “What’s it to ya? Ain’t like you gotta pay.” He tried to prevent the slight slur from creeping too prominently into his speech- he had a pretty strong buzz by now, but he was still in control of his actions and wouldn’t stand for being teased by the sarcastic agent he had to call a partner.

“I suppose I don’t.” As if to rub that fact in the other man’s face, Domino waved to the bartender. “Sweet sunrise- two cherries.” His tone was casual for the sake of appearances (he couldn’t go giving the “do what I want or you’ll be looking down the barrel of my gun” tone to civilians on an undercover assignment), but from his spot beside the loon Steelbeak could see the corner of his beak perked up in one of those condescending smirks to subtly confirm for him that, yes, this was his way of rubbing his success in the other man’s face.

Steelbeak fought back the urge to scowl, as well as the growing urge to order another drink and drown out the annoying voice in the back of his head that told him he’d prefer to see the smile from earlier on that dark beak rather than its current smirk. Desperately needing SOME kind of distraction, he opted for being the bigger man (in a sense OTHER than literally, for a change), and giving credit where it was due. “Hate to admit it, Deedee, but that wasn’t too bad. The bit with the cherries was a bit much for my taste, but, hey, it’s not like that sorta thing would’ve worked on me.” Crud, why did he just bring himself into it? He needed to divert that part of the conversation before he could get called out for it! “How’d you know that’d work, anyway?”

“His file.” Domino nodded politely to the bartender after receiving his drink, offering only those two words in way of a less-than-satisfying explanation before partaking of his beverage.

Okay, that part certainly got Steelbeak’s attention. “Did we get two different files for Mr.Married-multiple-times-and-all-to-gorgeous-dames, or did I miss somethin’?”

Domino removed the first cherry from the top of his drink and ate it, biting off the stem in a more straight-forward fashion than his earlier show (Steelbeak refused to feel disappointed about that). “Rich family that was religious only for the sake of acting like they were even better than everyone else, grew up in all-male-boarding schools most of his life, and five failed marriages in the past three years- all to famous women known for being considered extremely attractive, and not a single kid from ANY of those relationships.” He ran down the list of facts that had been stated in their target’s profile, but in a much more summarized way than the tedious list they’d both been forced to read through, before eating the second cherry from his drink. “Honestly..he may as well walk around with a sign over his head that says REPRESSED in big rainbow letters..” He paused for a minute, taking a long sip of his drink before saying one more statement and finishing his mocktail. “Also I winked at him when he came in and he blushed.”

“Geez..” Steelbeak really didn’t want to be impressed by the other bird’s analytical skills, but it was hard not to when he came to a conclusion like THAT just from a sheet of paper with a bullet-point list. “You got some kinda gay-radar built in your head, or what?”

“Oh, trust me..” Domino said while sliding his glass away, giving Steelbeak a brief once-over with those piercing red eyes that were really starting to do weird things to the fowl’s head AND his heart. “Denial’s pretty easy to spot if you know where to look.”

Steelbeak narrowed his eyes warningly at the darker bird. “You tryin’ t’ say somethin’ there, Dom?”

Domino shrugged calmly, not even so much as flinching from the harsh look. “Merely stating facts- if you choose to take them out of context, then that’s your problem.” He stood up unceremoniously and started making his way towards the front door. “Our ride should be here by now. Don’t keep me waiting or I’ll make them leave without you.”

Steelbeak scowled at the retreating bird’s back and fumbled with his wallet, knowing full well the loon didn’t make empty threats. “Yeah, yeah, keep your hat on, I’m comin’.” He didn’t feel up to counting out the exact amount for all of his drinks, so he opted instead for just slamming down a handful of cash on the bar-top. “Keep the change.” He said to the bartender on his way out- he honestly didn’t even care if he came up short, it’s not like they were going to come back there again.

As he made his way out to the waiting car and underpaid driver, Steelbeak tried not to shudder. Tonight had led to way too many new realizations that he had NOT been prepared to deal with. He’d need some time to himself to think things over…

Unfortunately, as it turned out, those thoughts only got worse once Steelbeak was alone. After spending the night thinking about it, he figured that maybe, just maybe, he might actually LIKE his moody partner as more than just a work-partner.

He’d never had any interest in guys before but, all things considered, it’s not like he’d had any genuine interest for the women he’d romanced before either. All he’d ever been after in the past when it came to relationships were shallow things for his own benefit- status from being seen with a cute babe (or a few cute ones) on his arm, information or money for work or for himself, and the occasional sating of some more carnal desires.

With Domino, however, things were different. Being seen with Domino wouldn’t do anything for his social status or image since they were already seen together pretty often. Domino didn’t have anything he wanted as far as information or money since they were partners and given the same amount of both within their jobs. And, for once in his life, a more physical relationship was the LAST thing on his mind- both because he didn’t want to risk losing any vital and sensitive organs and because..well..despite himself, he respected the guy too much to think about him like that…it just felt wrong to try and objectify the loon like he had so many of his previous conquests since this felt so much more REAL to him.

And that was what terrified the F.O.W.L. agent more than anything- the thought that these feelings might actually be genuine.

This was turning into the first time for a lot of things with Steelbeak:

The first time he’d been interested in a man…

The first time he’d wanted more from a relationship than just a quick love ‘em and leave ‘em…

The first time he’d ever been interested in someone that he actually respected…

This was all just way too new for Steelbeak and he had absolutely NO idea what he was supposed to do. His usual approach to flirting probably wouldn’t work since Domino wasn’t some cheap floozy or desperately lonely bird (not meant in the literal sense) looking for attention, and Steelbeak wasn’t the kind to just start waxing poetic or gushing about his stupid feelings. Yuck.

He figured actions spoke louder than words, so gifts seemed like the right way to go. Flowers and chocolates seemed way too plain and schmaltzy, though, so he figured ‘Hey, go big or go home’, and started buying up whatever classy high-dollar items caught his eye- casting a wide net with a large array of gifts and tokens with the hopes that at least ONE item would pique the loon’s interest.

So far, though, nothing had worked. If anything, it seemed like his partner was just getting more and more irritated with him every time he tried something.

“Fine mess ya got yourself in this time, ain’t it?” Steelbeak asked himself bitterly while tipping his head back to drain the remnants of his glass. He went to refill it afterwards, but found that the bottle was completely empty now- apparently his reminiscing had driven him to down six glasses of wine without even noticing. “Perfect…” Setting the empty vessels down on his coffee table with an annoyed sigh of frustration, Steelbeak figured he wasn’t really hungry anymore and trudged his way over to the kitchen. “Whatever..” He muttered while pulling out a large reheatable container. “Least I’ll have a good lunch tomorrow…make some poor loser jealous…”

Yes, this was a fine mess indeed that he’d gotten himself into…

<-First Part Next Part->

End Notes: Poor Steelbeak- it’s always confusing the first time you question your romantic preferences x3 Next part goes back to Domino and gets some more interactions between the deadly duo.

#steelbeak #dominic domino #darkwing duck #dwd

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goose-the-flerken-cat · 5 years

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call up the devils (tell them i’m home)

Carol arched over the curve of Jupiter, spun through the asteroid belt, and shot past the orbit of Mars. The stars looked dim all around her and she knew that it was because the sun was ahead; bright and yellow and still burning. Some part of her liked to believe that all they mourned as well; that all those beings in the universe that dared to look up—who dared to hope and dream and create stories—were missed.

She waved to the moon as she passed, smiling at the flag sitting still in the rock, only joined by footprints frozen in time. The eastern hemisphere was dark; lights creating firefly rivers across the landscape, dotting the ground in its own constellations. Life was still there; broken, shattered, but continuing. Humanity had been beaten down, had crawled, and would stand again.

Just like they have always done. Just as they always will.

Carol spread her arms out, let gravity grab her by the shoulders, and fell. The atmosphere ignited around her, licking at the energy that already burned across her suit. She was a falling star, slicing across the night and punching holes through clouds. Halfway to the ground, Carol steadied to a glide, checked her communicator, and followed the signal from the pager she had handed over to Fury all those years ago.

It dinged faster the closer she was until she was soaring over the top of the Empire State Building and watched her own reflection become muddled and twisted in the Hudson. Manhattan gave way to water which gave way to trees and grass and a series of rectangular buildings with a stylized A on the roof.

Carol landed on the helipad (there was, after all, no reason to be rude) and double checked to make sure that the signal was coming from inside. It was, so she breathed in the night air and the energy swirling around her body, waited for the glow to vanish, and walked up the pathway towards unguarded doors. It seemed, like first glance, to be an office building but there was too much technology in one area, too many weights in another.

The beeping on her communicator stopped.

Maybe a base of some sort. She peeked around a corner, frowned at the floor to ceiling windows, and kept walking. Training areas, a hangar, something that must have been a library. Carol walked up a few flights of stairs, crossed an open bridge, and frowned.

Empty. The whole damn place was empty. Even late there was always some poor insomniac wandering the halls but there was nothing, no one.

She pushed open a wooden door and paused, looking in at what seemed to be a lounge area. There were couches, a television, and what looked to be a fully stocked kitchen. Carol closed the door softly behind her and walked across the hardwood floor. Holographic red numbers counted up, higher and higher.

Missing, the text said. The number was in the billions.

Christ.

She could see people through the glass walls of what looked like another smaller room that had been turned into a makeshift lab. Four of them, standing in front of something. Two with blonde hair, one with greying curly, and the last shaved down. Three men and a woman. Only one of them didn’t look like a soldier; standing off to the side, wringing his hands. The others had their shoulders squared even as exhaustion blurred the lines of their bodies.

Carol dragged her fingers along the back of a chair, felt her glove catch on the seams.

“Reboot it,” The tallest man said, hair combed back, eyes on whatever it was they were standing around. He had broad shoulders. Soldier shoulders. “Send the signal again.”

He shifted just enough for her to get a peek at the blue tubes glowing on top of a stand surrounding a blank pager. Carol removed her gloves and stepped closer, keeping close to the glass to stay out of sight.

That wouldn’t help if anyone turned around, but all the light reflecting off the glass would, hopefully, keep her off their radar for just a bit longer.

“We don’t even know what this,” curly hair said, sounding exasperated, “is.”

The woman didn’t look at him, her attention fully on the blank screen. “Fury did,” she said and Carol straightened. “Just do it. Please.”

No one argued but the long days had settled on their shoulders and no one was quite ready to do what she asked. Not at that moment.

“Tell me the second you get a signal,” She continued in the silence that followed. “I want to know who’s on the other end of that thing.”

The woman turned and Carol realized that, at some point, she had moved away from the wall to stand directly behind them. They had the pager with no knowledge of what it did besides the fact that it sent a signal.

“Where’s Fury?” But the answer didn’t matter.

She already knew.

The fridge was full of bottled up protein shakes, fruit, vegetables, and chicken. Lots and lots of chicken. Carol dumped some on a plate and shoved it into the microwave. She shed her jacket while it cooked and ignored the not so subtle way everyone was trying not to look at her.

Oh, they tried to hide it. Natasha Romanoff was particularly good at it. But everyone in the room had their attention focused on her despite them talking to each other or watching the screens. The microwave dinged and she pulled out the plate and rummaged through a couple of drawers.

“Silverware’s in that one,” Bruce Banner said, empty glass in one hand, pointing just left of the sink. He stopped by the fridge, fumbled with the dispenser, never quite taking his eyes off her. It wasn’t in an invasive way—more curiosity.

Ice missed his glass completely and clattered to the floor. It slid to Carol’s feet, under the edge of the cabinets, and got lost under the fridge.

“Oh, no,” Banner said with all the exhaustion of someone who managed to do something so clumsily bizarre regularly with each time managing to be a complete accident. He placed his still empty cup on the counter, pushed his glasses up on his nose, and kneeled with a groan.

Carol laughed—she couldn’t help it—and got down beside him to help pick up the mess.

“Sorry,” he said, head low, attention now on the lines of grain in the flooring. “I’m, uh, normally not that bad.”

She hummed and tossed what she had gathered into the sink. “I’m sure,” Carol said, the words sprinkled with just enough humour that the lack of conviction didn’t matter. She dug out a fork and knife from the drawer he had pointed to and paused when she realized that he had gone back to staring. “Uh—”

“Sorry,” Banner said, fumbling for his cup. “Sorry; that’s rude.”

Carol picked at her chicken and decided that there were more important things to worry about. Like how Steve Rogers had moved around the lounge chairs to stand just a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest.

She met his gaze, saw the bags under his eyes, the creases between his eyebrows.

Captain America. In the flesh. He seemed smaller and bigger and more than everything she had ever expected. A war hero lost to time, unfrozen, standing before her.

“You knew Fury?” He wasn’t aggressive, he wasn’t meek. His frame was that of a weary man. A tired soldier, but there was a softness to his eyes she didn’t expect to see.

(He was Atlas, she realized later; a willing Atlas who held up the world without the demand from the Gods even though it wasn’t his to carry.)

Carol slid onto one of the barstools at the island. Placed her plate down, stuck her fork in the chicken, but didn’t eat just yet. “I did,” she said, and the past tense howled through her bones like a late night winter wind. Her teeth grit, the back of her eyes stung. “Who did this?”

Rogers took the seat across from her. He moved slowly, like a man approaching a snake.

She wanted to tell him that her bared teeth weren’t for him but the words caught in her throat.

“His name is Thanos.”

Thanos.

“The Mad Titan.”

Rogers rested his forearms on the marble. “You’ve heard of him.”

“Yeah,” Carol said and stabbed her fork through a green bean. She closed her eyes and the shattered remains of Nova—broken and scattered across its solar system—flashed across her eyelids. “Yeah, I know of him.” Her appetite evaporated and she pushed the plate to the side, leaned forward, and met Roger’s sharp gaze. “What happened?”

#carol danvers #steve rogers #bruce banner #fabulist tales

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mosylufanfic · 6 years

Text

Me and My Shadow

I was digging around in my files, as I am wont to do, and I found this story from last season, about 95% finished. Remember when they basically had no scenes at all together? And we were all starving for any little bit of Killervibe we could get? This is something of what I wanted to see after S4′s mid-season finale.

Just as a refresher, this takes place toward the end of the episode where Amunet Black kidnapped Caitlin, locked dampening cuffs on her. Before that happened, however, Caitlin discovered that Cisco, Harry, and Ralph all had private jokes and funny stories about hanging out with Killer Frost.

This story isn’t overtly romantic but it is about Cisco and Caitlin’s relationship at that point in the show. Title from the 1927 song, sung by oh so many people.

Me and My Shadow

Cisco peered at the power dampener Amunet Black had fastened around Caitlin's wrist. "Who designed this, the Incredible Hulk?" He tapped it. "Could it get any bigger and clunkier? Ugh. I'm so offended."

"Me, too, considering it held me prisoner," Caitlin said dryly. She waved her wrist a little, inviting him to look at the catch. It was a heavy-duty metal latch with wires woven over it in some way he couldn't quite follow. "Can we remove this, please?"

"Oh, yeah." He opened the toolkit he'd brought upstairs from his lab and pulled out some wire snips and an electric saw.

"Careful!" she said.

He paused. "It's not gonna blow up if I don't snip the right wire, is it?"

She angled her wrist. "No, but it's got spikes on the inside. It's part of the function somehow."

Now he could see them, thin metal needles piercing her flesh. A few dots of blood smeared her skin.

"Shit!" He yanked his hand away. All his poking and prodding must have been digging them in even further. Why the hell hadn't she said anything before this?

Probably the same reason she'd waited to ask him to remove it until after Dominic Lanse had been taken to a hospital and thoroughly checked over. Caitlin putting herself last again.

Another thought occurred. "Oh, fuck, it's not stabbing your veins or anything, is it?"

She touched the inside of her wrist. "No, it's just the top and sides."

"Well, that was nice of her," he said sarcastically, and got to work on the catch. The design might offend every aesthetic bone in his body, but it was doing the job very well. He could feel his own powers going a little fuzzy and wobbly, this close to it. And it also seemed to have solved the power issue he'd struggled with so much. He was going to have a look at this when he got it off her wrist.

She was quiet while he worked, and while he normally would have chattered and joked, all his lightness seemed like it was trapped underneath a boulder in the pit of his stomach.

Yelling at Ralph had helped some, but he still felt like a turd. Sure, Caitlin, the nasty, mean alter ego that you never wanted is our favorite new buddy. Yeah, we have a great time with her! We have inside jokes and everything!

He knew she knew he hadn't meant it like that. But just because he hadn't meant it didn't mean it hadn't hurt her. He remembered the look in her eyes.

And Harry had gone to apologize first. Harry! When Harry I-Can-Only-Relate-to-Other-Versions-of-Myself Wells was doing better at friending than you, that was kind of a bad sign.

He'd come for her. He'd rescued her from Amunet Black. She had to know he valued her more than Killer Frost. Right?

Yeah, he'd come for her, but so had fucking Ralph.

He glanced up, wondering how to start saying he was sorry, and found her staring off into space, looking thoughtful.

"Hey," he said, and her eyes came back around. They looked like root beer in this light, the way he liked them best. He smiled at her. "What's churning your butter, cup?"

"Just thinking how nice it was to handle something on my own for once, instead of having to depend on my mean roommate."

His stomach dropped. "Caitlin - "

She looked at her wrist. "Maybe you should leave this on."

"Leave on the spiky hurty ugly accessory? That's a hard no," he said, and snipped one last wire. "Lay your hand down and keep vewwy vewwy still," he added in his best Elmer Fudd imitation.

She smiled absently and flattened her palm to her lab table. He turned on the circular saw and started cutting through the lock. It was tough stuff, and he had to stop a couple of times to switch out the blade. Finally, the bracelet cracked in two, and he switched off the saw before it brushed her skin.

She pulled the cuff open, wincing as the spikes tugged out of her flesh, and let it clatter to the table. Now she wore a cuff of tiny pinpricks, welling with blood. It wasn't a good look, in Cisco's opinion.

"Mmm," she said, grimacing at the injuries. "I'd better get this cleaned up and bandaged." She rummaged in some drawers.

"Frost up," he suggested before he thought, and felt his stomach drop again. God. He'd stepped in it again. "Just - just to get rid of that," he added quickly. "Let her hypermetabolism take care of it."

"It's fine," she said, not looking at him as she wiped each pinprick down with a sterile wipe. "It's good. You should get along with people who are fighting alongside you." She tossed a used one, pink with blood, into the biohazard bin and pulled another one from the dispenser.

"Look, don't pretend we didn't hurt your feelings."

"They're my feelings," she said. "I'll handle them."

"Yeah, that's a skill you excel at."

She gave him a withering look. "I had a bad evening. I got over it."

"Okay, then how about letting me apologize?"

"You have nothing to apologize for. You can have friends other than me. You do have friends other than me. It's selfish and self-centered to be jealous of that."

She recited it as if it was something she'd said to herself over and over again.

"It's human to feel left out," he said. "And I was part of making you feel left out, and I'm really sorry for that."

"Yes, and I handled it." She bowed her head over her wrist, dabbing antiseptic cream on the marks. "Thanks for getting that cuff off me. You should probably clean it." She handed him a container of Q-tips and a bottle of ethanol.

He took them back to the table where the cuff still sat, dark and powerless now. He started cleaning the spikes, watching the white cotton soak up pink blood. He found he was gritting his teeth.

Why wouldn't she smile and accept his apology?

Why wouldn't she just let him feel better about seeming to prefer her darker side?

Why couldn't he just go back to thinking that she'd made peace with Killer Frost, now that she wasn't one of the bad guys, and didn't have any feelings about her divided self whatsoever?

Just like he was perfectly fine with the thought of Reverb, or any of his other evil doppelgangers that infested the multiverse. Oh yeah. No misgivings there at all.

He let out his breath and tossed the Q-tip down.

"You know," he said, "eight months ago, you never would have convinced me that there could be anything I liked about Killer Frost, but I do."

Caitlin looked up, but didn't say anything. She just watched him, silent, her face flat and expressionless.

"She's tough. A survivor. A fighter. She sees what needs to be done and gets it done. She's smart and she thinks on her feet. Every time she throws down, I swear she has three or four nifty new tricks that never even crossed my mind."

"Okay," she said. "I get it. You don't have to keep singing her praises."

He went to her and took her tight shoulders in his. "And you know what? Everything I like best about her is something she gets from you."

Her eyes met his. They were darker now.

"Tough. Smart. Creative. Gets the job done. Sound familiar?"

"A fighter, though?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not a fighter. I run and I hide," she said bitterly. "Just like Harry told me to do at Jitters. I didn't even try and bring her out until I was cornered, and that didn't work."

"Have you ever once run and hid when someone needed medical help?"

"That's different."

"I dunno if it is. That's your wheelhouse. Kicking ass is Frost's. Use the right tool for the right purpose. Killer Frost isn't always the right choice for what needs to get done."

She was quiet for a long moment. "Amunet Black said something like that."

He recoiled. "She did?"

Caitlin shrugged. "She wanted me to get the job done. She probably could have threatened me some more, but she took the logic route and pointed out why she needed me, not Frost. It worked. I got the job done."

Okay. He officially sucked as a friend. Amunet Black had figured out what Caitlin needed to hear before he had. That she, Caitlin, was valuable and valued, that her skills weren't lesser, that she was strong and effective in her own way.

He tried to make his voice light. "Much as I hate to agree with someone with that dated of a hairstyle, she had a point. We couldn't do what we do without you."

Her eyes searched his and then she sighed. Not a resigned sigh or an unhappy one. There was relief in it. As if she was letting out a breath she'd held for too long.

Then she hugged him, hard and quick. "Thank you," she said.

"Anytime," he said. "Really, I mean it. Anytime you're feeling conflicted over your morally ambiguous doppelganger, talk to me."

"It's not her state of evil or good," she said thoughtfully. "I mean, obviously I would rather she's fighting against the bad guys rather than alongside them. But it's - " She rubbed her wrists again. "It was easier when she was the bad one and I was the good one, and I had good things - like friends - and she didn't."

"I don't think either of you are that simple," he said. "I don't think anything's that simple."

She toyed with the q-tips. "The thing is," she said, brows drawn together, "I've spent my entire life trying not to show it when I'm scared, or angry, or upset, or even just sad."

"That's not news," he pointed out. He still remembered nearly a year of her flat, expressionless face after the explosion.

"Because nobody has time for that," she went on. "You know? Nobody wants to put up with that. People like a cheerful, helpful, smart little girl. Nobody likes a crybaby who can't do anything."

One day, Cisco reflected, he really was going to go find Mama Snow and punch her in the mouth. He didn't like hitting women, even the ones that hit him first, but boy, could he make an exception.

"So I tried to be cheerful and helpful and smart, and if I couldn't manage to fake any of those, I could at least push down all the bad feelings and show nothing. Until last year. I stopped being able to push things down. And in a way, it made sense that when I lost control of all my rage and my fear, that I lost you. All of you. Because that's what you get. Nobody wants you if you're like that."

He opened his mouth.

She aimed him a look. "And yes, Cisco, I know that I lost all of you because she joined forces with Savitar and was instrumental in H.R.s death and Iris's attempted murder. I understand that. I'm not stupid."

He had been going to say, she'd lost them because she'd left, but that was a fair point, too. "As long as you get there's a difference."

"I do," she said. "On a logical level. But when I realized that she was coming back, I tried to run, because I couldn't bear to lose you all again like that."

He refrained from pointing out that she would have lost them anyway.

"And then I didn't," she said. "And then I realized that you actually liked her. You have jokes together, you like fighting alongside her, Ralph thinks she's sexy. "

"Ralph tried to hit on a lamppost the other day," he pointed out. "Just saying."

"And in that case, what's the point? What's my reward for fighting down the worst parts of myself, if it isn't to keep my friends?"

"Look," he said, taking her hands. "You're going to have to figure that out yourself. I think the past year has shown that no outside influence is going to work to get a handle on Killer Frost. Power-dampening cuffs, solar necklaces, whatever it was that Black gave you - none of that, on its own, is ever going to be a permanent solution. You've got to get a handle on her yourself, for yourself, because it's the best thing for you. But while you're doing that, here's something I think you should keep in mind."

"What?"

"We like you," he said. "We like you when you're being smart and cheerful and helpful, yeah. But we also like you when you're snarly and mean, or sad, or upset. I like you. You don’t have be perfect to be our friend. You just have to be you." He waved at her up and down, trying to encompass her entirety. "Everything you are."

She swallowed hard. "Thank you."

"Anytime," he said, starting to go back to the dampener cuff. He paused. "By the way, your mom is wrong."

She looked up. "My mom?"

"Yeah. When she told you all that stuff about how nobody likes little girls who aren't sweet and nice all the time."

"Oh, Cisco, My mom didn't tell me that."

He blinked. "Who did, then?"

She shook her head, smiling at him a little. "Nobody had to tell me. All little girls know that."

"Well, they're wrong," he said.

She tilted her head. The smile got sharper; colder. "Are they?"

FINIS

#Cisco Ramon #Caitlin Snow #killervibe #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #Caitlin has a lot of feelings about KF #I do too #the flash

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