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#like I'm not saying hire some scientist?
tmntkiseki · 9 months
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Randomly remembered during the Ninja Tribunal episodes that Chaplin created weapons that fused magic with technology and I kinda wish that had been explored more.
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supershot73199 · 3 months
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So something I would like to point out is despite the shit we give him Danny is a fighting savant.
Like any time Danny is fighting with his feet planted on a surface he is pulling off badass martial arts maneuvers or kicking ass. Hell in the first episode he manages a roundhouse kick with enough force to basically cut through multiple meat monsters, and this is at his weakest in the show.
Like we say he fights like a feral racoon but that's only when he's fighting midair and how would he have midair combat training? Humans can't fly like that.
Still in the first season Danny catches Fright Knights sword barehand without a scratch! Boy is a badass.
When he was fighting with his classmates to rescue their parents in pirate radio he was the most competent one there until he let himself get thrown over the edge to give him an excuse to transform without anyone noticing.
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Like sure he's getting dogged in this fight but not from a lack of skill, Danny gets several good hits in but he doesn't have the strength this early in the series to do any damage to Fright Knight. But then he not only catches the blade but disarms and judo flips him without getting cut by the blade once.
So I think it would be fun to have DC characters notice this he has the skill and he now has the power to back it up. Have Danny meet Wildcat the former boxer turned vigilante who trained both Black Canary and Batman in boxing.
So one thing that i would like to see is Danny in a similar situation like in the video, Deathstroke is literally a super soldier and mercenary so some rich bastard who Danny pissed off hires him to kill this kid i like the idea that danny is patenting a medical device that can be used to treat metas or non human biology and the rich guy is pissed Danny won't sell him the patent. Bat of your choice, I'm going with Cass, gets told by Oracle who hacked into the communications between the two but she's not quite fast enough to stop the fight from breaking out.
Danny is in his human form which limits his strength but he has skill enough fighting foes who are physically his superior. Cass shows up to see this random scientist holding his own against Deathstroke who earned his title of The Terminator. However before Cass can jump in Danny pulls off the disarming judo throw winning the fight.
Now Cass has a crush on this cute boy. Bruce is considering hiring an assassin himself (not really he's just being dramatic about his baby girl falling in love.)
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evilminji · 5 months
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You knooooowwww... >.>
The only difference, technically, between a school in the Zone? And on Earth? Is the American government won't recognize your Zone diploma...
Not accredited. But like..... I'm JUST SAYING? If you didn't try to pass your school off as some Big Ivy League type? Pulled the "oh yeah, you'd never have heard of it, it's local." And the COMPUTERS say it's legit?
How many people will dig deeper?
If you legitimately have the knowledge, you legitimately have the knowledge. Not YOUR fault you left out the whole "extra-dimensional" part. It makes folk nervous! And nervous folks get stabby.
So like? If you were ALREADY planning to "Move" as you euphemistically put it? Talked it over with your VERY concerned folks and friends? Who do NOT like the look of the steady but concerning rise of Anti-Ghost Powers That Be? Who finally put their foot down and reminded you that you are a TEENAGER and it's NOT your responsibility to fix the world?
Well...
Fuck those guys, I guess. You'll miss the old house, but Team "Taking our ball and going literally anywhere else" makes some good points. Why ARE you putting up with this?
And honestly, you've never SEEN your dad have so much fun. Him and the Reality Realtor just sorta... Vibe. Himbo to Himbo communications. Smatters of advanced physics. Fudge. It's great.
They move the portal. Collapse the old one in a way that makes it impossible to recover or recreate. You... kinda don't want to ask. They had that "mad scientist glint" in their eyes.
And while everyone's checking out brochures to different realities? You? Head off to the nearest College. It's the Zone, so technically you could go to any of endless billions. But you'd like your education some time this century.
Cue! Danny Fenton! Entering?
Academia's wet dream. A sprawling CITY of a college. Where the classes are on EVERYTHING and the price is FREE. People have Obsessions okay?? They NEED to teach. Debate and discuss! Study! Right papers and read them! It's been going on a while! And what happens when you find a subject that's NOT covered?
YOU COVER IT!
It's like if New York was a College. Good fucking luck find the dorms. Sleep on the floor like the rest of us, you casual.
Danny was Not Prepared ™.
He loves it though.
Classes on aeronautics next making the perfect sandwich, shoved next to historical basketry, stacked above alien slam poetry. But only on Tuesdays! Ever shifting. Breaking his Fenton Born Adhd in to a fine PASTE to be smeared upon bread. Happy mental stimulation chemicals go Brrrrrrrr
If it wasn't wildly inappropriate, he would LICK IT to claim it as his then wrap around it and gaurd like a territorial cat. He thought he HATED school! Turns out he just hated high-school. College though? College, or at least ZONE College, is fuckin AWESOME.
He's sit in SO MANY random classes just cause.
Picked up and dropped them at a whim. When they no longer sparked joy. He's been a flighty bitch and for once? No one CARES. No one says "you HAVE to commit and stick with this FOREVER once you choose this" and? It just? It's so FREEING! He's learned so MUCH!
He's probably gonna come back!
Which? Is how a deeply, DEEPLY weird aerospace engineer from supposedly bumfuck NOWHERE, end up working at Wayne Industries. He's.... a lil crazy behind the eyes. Ha ha... CONCERNING ™!
Dude sleeps on the lab floor. Has weirdly spotty knowledge. Can be an unprecedented genius one second and not know who the current president is the next. Doesn't know what DAY it is. Forgets to eat. Tried to make a fusion reactor out of the break room toaster before Sandra from accounting distracted him with pictures of her cat.
It's like he wanders through life blissfully unaware that he is both terrifying and about three seconds from killing them all. Then FUCKING TRIPS because he forgot to tie his shoelaces again.
Who hired this man?
WHY!?
I mean, we KNOW why. Probably to put him on a watch list. But? He's like a terrifying murder puppy! Built like a tank! That's stoned out of its mind half the time. And have you HEARD his college stories? That CAN'T be legal. Was this guy raised in a cult!? Aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!????
@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter
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octuscle · 6 months
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From tutor to rookie of the year
Hi, my name is Jake. My company has hired me to tutor a few students with poor grades. That's not necessarily the reason why I started working at the auditing company. But first of all, I'm new here and I'm not going to refuse right at the beginning of my career. And secondly, becoming a teacher had actually been an option for me. Maybe it's fate now or something.
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The first lesson gets off to a very promising start. I almost have to tear myself apart to leave your office and get to school on time. But when I arrive, there is a yawning emptiness in the classroom. Only after fifteen minutes I hear noise in the corridor and a couple of football jocks barge in the door. A few still in football gear. And all obviously unshowered after training. Phew, it stinks. And as I look into the handsome, square-cut faces of the boys spraying with testosterone, I'm suddenly back at school. The small, clever but shy boy who, at best, the stars of the football team overlook and, at worst, stuff into the toilet. I clear my throat and say that I'm not here for fun either and that I'm asking for some attention. The boys barely react. Damn it, it's not my problem. I explain a few linear algebra problems on the blackboard and ignore the paper airplanes. I have my school-leaving certificate. I have my master's degree. And my bonus doesn't depend on the grades of these idiots. At least I hope so.
After the debacle of the first tutoring session, my appetite for the second is very dampened. But it was already hard enough to get this internship. The firm is one of the most prestigious accountancy firms in the city. And if my pro bono job as an intern is tutoring the idiots on the football team twice a week, I'll survive. Apart from the 60 hours a week in which I have to pore over balance sheets, that doesn't matter any more.
These days, the musclemen are even on time. And somehow nicer than last time. They even ask me reasonably sensible questions like whether you can predict the trajectories of footballs. I take this as an opportunity to tell them something about vector calculus. They collapse with laughter. "Bro, I was joking. And football isn't math. Football is strength and speed." I'm about to take a breath and say something about Newton and the relationship between force and speed. But instead of listening to me, the jocks start bragging to each other about their heroic stories on the field. And I can't help but listen to them spellbound. When the lesson is over, I look after them with fascination. I wish I could have been more like them at school.
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Shit, because I'm the only nerd on the senior team who isn't a complete failure at sports, Coach made me give math tutoring to the football team. He thinks the Meatheads might have a little bit of respect for me. Shit! Them for me? I for them might be more correct! The thought of explaining math to my secret crush forms a wet spot in my Calvin Klein shorts.
I expected the boys to keep me waiting. If they were also punctual and disciplined off the pitch, they wouldn't need any help. And I don't want to tutor them any more than they want to be tutored. We reach a compromise. You listen to my math tutoring for half an hour. And then we'll go out onto the pitch for half an hour and play a bit of football. God knows I'm not unsportsmanlike. But soccer has somehow never been my sport. I'm more of a swimming pool or gym kind of guy. Team sports? Not really.
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Shit, yeah, I'm no rocket scientist in math. But I have quite good grades in English and history. I'm not going to fail this year. Why the fuck do I have to go to tutoring with the other bros from the football team? I have no idea. But seriously, the tutor is a total loser. A beanpole in a stuffy shirt. The idiot even wears a tie. Seriously, who wears a tie these days? If I had to wear a tie, I'd change jobs. Or if I had to shower after training. Shit, these are just rules that can come from old fat men. Bros like me and my bros smell like test… Testo… Well that hormone stuff. Sweat, musk and Axe. If I didn't have to go straight to detention again, I'd let the loser smell my armpits… But I'm a sophomore on the team right now. Let the juniors and seniors do that.
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"Jack, bro!" This is Chuck. The QB on the team. I can tell by his voice. And by his smell. And I'd also know it by the taste of his cheesy boner…. But he stays locked in his jockstrap cage right now. What a damn shame! "Bro, where were you in tutoring? The dean was there. You're in fucking trouble!" Shit, tutoring! I was at the gym. The other guys are all so pumped. I don't want to lag behind any longer. "Shit, dude, we said you were in the bathroom. The loser tutor didn't dare contradict us. But I think you have to let him suck you off so he doesn't tell on you." Hehehehehe, I like that idea. There are still 40 minutes until football practice… And I haven't cum yet today. "Is the loser still in the classroom?" I ask. Chuck nods. I fist bump him and say that I'll sort it out quickly.
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If Chuck and Matt go to college next year, I have a good chance to be the QB. But until then I still have to build up a lot of mass. Those two are just in a whole different league. And I'm damn jealous of the hair on Matt's chest. You should see the bush under his arms. Dude, the man is going to be a fucking gorilla! Shit, I'm not half the man those two are. You can tell immediately by the size of the bulge in our compression shorts. Nevertheless, neither of them mind if I fuck them. But they like fucking me even more. Without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!
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We skipped tutoring again today. Coch covers for us while we're in the gym or doing our laps on the cinder track outside. Nevertheless, it's still up in the air whether Chuck and Matt will be at college next year. And whether I'll be a junior by then. But screw it, NFL pros don't need to know math.
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dcxdpdabbles · 1 month
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Any ideas for Phantom's number 1 fan? I'm so excited to see Tim and Danny run into each other and figure out OH, so this is what's going on. And also being gay cuz would either of them mind too much about being married? Hey- wait- what's this about a child-
Cut to the watchtower just freaking out full panic. Oh God, the world is gonna end. How do we fix this so the ghost king doesn't kill us all???
John Constantine would go bald from how much stress hair-pulling he was doing. They have been searching for a solid week and have yet to find out where Batman's third son went.
He left a very tiny trail across Europe, seemingly as an art thief and hired assassin. It broke Batman's eldest son's heart whenever a new clue was phoned into the Watchtower, which did not make John feel better about placing a bounty on the kid's head.
It was a neceasery but with each passing day it became clear that no one truly understod the Young Justice Robin. He seemed to always be one step ahead of everyone, and covered his tracks so well that it would have taken them months, maybe even years to follow if they hadn't been looking.
But oh, were they bloody looking.
The entire league had come together to trace Young Justice Robin's path, turning two of the main conference rooms into the center hub for comparing and connecting clues.
It looks like a conspiracy theorist's wet dream in there.
Colored yarn strung around the room, screens displaying messages and photos of cities, and multiple tired-looking league members scrambling to make heads or tails of the new personality that YJ Robin had created in every new country.
Frankl, John was slightly impressed by how much work the kid was giving them. Even the tracking spells that should have pointed in his general direction failed because his soul was not being picked up on a global search whenever they cast it.
It was almost as if the kid had left their world. John wanted to hope that it meant he went to a different planet, but he never betted on a horse with a broken leg.
YJ Robin was trying to kill the Ghost King's fiancee, and despite the guards they placed around known stationed natural portals, he managed to slip through.
It was the only thing that made sense, but it also meant they were running out of time. His contacts on the other side had caught multiple whispers that the Ghost King's army was gathering and would be ready for combat any day now.
At this point, he wasn't even sure the King would listen, even if they did manage to stop YJ Robin. Higher beings took a insult far more serious then humans did.
"Well?" He asks just to be a ass when Batman son teleports in. He gone to speak to some Ghost hunter specilists. Not that John put much stock in thier ecto-research. He perfected magic through hard work and numours deals. The thought the scientist thought they could us maths to build similar defenses were laughable.
But the league was desperate for any form of defense against the army in case they could not please the King in time.
Nightwing—even in the Batman suit, John could only see the young man in Blue struggling to keep everything together—pulled a face. "The Fenton's technology is impressive but....they seemed to really empthis that they no longer build weapons. That it wouldn't work."
"I could you that. At the most, they could detect a ghost but that's only a few second before a deadful shiver ran down your spin anyway." John huffs rolling his eyes.
"No. I think they were lying. They seemed really determined to make me believe they had no real means of harming a ghost. And get this: The Fentons dismantled the ghost portal they claimed allowed them to enter a death dimension only two days before we arrived."
Nightwing says with a tone that would have sounded strange in his blue suit. On Batman, it's just the right amount of emotionless that John has to bite his lip to stop him from reaching out and yanking the kid into a hug.
The world was too unfair to the kind-hearted folk like Nightwing.
The boy dressed as a Bat continues, blissfully unaware of how much he breaks John's heart. "They claimed it never worked and were embarrassed they kept it up for so long. I asked Oracle to check their online presence, and they read a lot of articles that speculated what the Justice League was up to days before they tore it down."
Now, John frowned in thought instead of disapproval. He highly doubted those hacks had made an actual portal to the Infinite Realms but they had boasted about it for three full years on their website.
It was the reason the Justice League even bothered to approach them. So why now, did they suddenly tear it down?
"They're trying to cover something up." John concludes watching the other nod in agreement.
The other man's jaw tightens for just a second before he adds "Or they are coving for someone."
Shit.
"Kid made it to the ghost zone, didn't he?" John swears feeling his heart drop down to his knees.
"We can gather that Young Justice Robin has made his way to the Realms and is now an active threat to humankind's survival. He needs to be taken down by any means possible," Batman declares, his voice like breaking glass. It's sharp and cutting, like the shreds of whatever heart was left in Richard Grayson.
John wonders if Bruce knows his son has broken from wherever his soul rests.
"That would explain the army that has gathered under the Ghost King banner," John grumbles, hands twitching for nicotine. "My sources said they are all gathered and practically ready to march."
"Do you know how long we have before they are here?" Batman asks walking into the conference room and grabbing the attention of every gathered hero with one hand motion.
Everyone tenses in a way that could make the weakest of them choke. They know what it means.
A level ten threat will arrive.
They failed to stop the Third Robin. He managed to spend months doing whatever he pleased, and now that the League was paying attention, it was far too late.
Many of them would not survive the upcoming battle. Many of them who did would lose so many loved ones that it would be hard to decide if they should spend the last few hours on the battlefield or in the arms of their families.
Life, as they know, may come to an end. They could become the next Krypton. Somewhere in the crowd, Kara falls to her knees, sobbing and babbling to Roa, begging for her not to live through her planet's destruction again.
A few of the youngest members start to sob along side her.
Wonder Woman, who was standing next to Superman and Martian man hunter, clears her throat. Her eyes are as hard as steel, her stance unwavering under the pressure of hundreds of pairs of eyes that land on her, and when she speaks, it's like the banging of a drum.
"Warriors prepare for combat. We are at War."
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Tim doesn't think when he lands.
He scrambles to his feet, and rushes away from the portal as fast as he can, hoping to put as much distance as possible between himself and the Yetis.
His feet fall into the mud, splashing and nearly tripping him over. It darkens out, and there are no cars in sight, but the smell is familiar, and the feeling of the air is welcome.
Before Gotham stands in all her grey dangerous glory, just over a few hills. He is far from the city, on the outside of Crime Alley, he thinks, but he can see the Bat symbol flowing proudly in the sky, can make out Wayne Headquarters, his Nest, and Babs' Clocktower, and it's so amazing to finally be home.
He pushes his legs to go faster, climbing up the hills into the highway. The streetlight flicker as he rushes by, unafriad of coming trafic. No one goes this way anymore. Not since they turned it into a dead end long before Bruce's parents died.
There are patches of broken road pieces where grass and weeds are growing through, his feet slap against the multiple holes, ruining his momentum but Tim can hardly care.
Tim knows how to find Bruce now.
He can help bring him back from the timeline through the various clues his father figure has been able to leave over his adventures. Tim is so close now, he can actually see the finish line.
He just needs to get to the Cave- when Jason and the Demon are not there, preferably. Maybe Alfred would let him in. The old man had always had a soft spot for Tim- and he could build the machine he needed.
That's if he doesn't build it in his Nest.
Tim runs faster, feeling his lungs and legs burn. He doesn't pay it any mind. The time with the Yeti has made him stronger, likely due to the hours of soaking in some private reserve of Lazarus Pit, so he is going at a faster speed.
One that he had never been able to reach before. He was nothing like a speedster or even on his Red Bird, but damn if it isn't exciting to think he may be able to outpace Jason now.
As he approaches, the city becomes more prominent, shimmering in a faint green glow, as if welcoming him home. Tim's face breaks into a smile when he enters Crime Alley, passing the city limits. In Bruce's city, he is safe from Ra because even without Batman, the city has always shielded them from the Ghuls.
Bruce will be back tomorrow, here in the shadows of Gotham's darkness, protecting everyone, and Tim will finally be able to rest. Months of invading the Justice League, working with the League of Assiasn, the Spiders, and his own doubts were finally going to be behind him.
So close. So very close he could taste it.
A scream cuts through the air.
Tim slides to a stop, feet splashing against the puddles of dirty water he hadn't noticed, swinging his head in the direction it came from. Every part of him wants to ignore it because he has to focus on getting Bruce. He does, but the fear in that woman's voice is too thick to ignore.
He glances back to his Nest, torn between his duty and his heart, biting his lip, but a young whimper- a child likely- makes the choice for him. Tim changes directions, going into the alley and coming across a family of three in the middle of being mugged.
It's quick work to get behind the man waving the gun, silent as the shadows, he blends in to mask his presense. He stricks just as the fool pulls the triger, the loud bang echoing in the small space.
The woman screams again, this time louder, with far more fright in her voice, as the boy bursts into tears.
Thankfully, Tim had knocked off his aim, and the bullet bounced off the brick near the man- likely the father- who was standing in front of a frightened woman and small child in what could only be an attempt to protect them.
The brick shatters to peices as Tim reels back his fists, bringing them down in three swift but brutal punches and the gunman hits the ground with a loud thump.
He hadn't even had time to scream.
Tim huffs above him, and the large amount of running finally catches up to him. It's been a long time since he was so out of breath, though sprinting at full force for a solid nearly fifty minutes was a good enough reason.
"Is everyone alright?" Tim pants out, shaking out his hand in a showy way. After all, he wasn't wearing a mask, and right now, this needed to look like Timothy Drake got a lucky burst of adrenaline.
"Yes." The man breathes, sounding shocked. "Yes, we're fine. Thanks to you. Thank you so much, you saved our lives."
"Don't mention it. I'm glad I was in the right place at the right time." Tim looks up at him, twisting his face into the perfect meek civilian persona Timothy Drake is known for, and then feels all the blood drain from his face.
At that moment, he realizes two things.
One, Gotham was many shades of depressing but it was never green. Espcailly glowing green but while he had been runing he had swon he saw it shifted to sit behind a filter that made it appear as such.
And Two, Bruce looked a aweful lot like his father.
"Oh my boy." Thomas Wayne says, wrapping his arm around Martha and little Bruce Wayne's. He sends Tim another grateful warm smile. "I don't think you understand just what you've done here."
No, Tim thinks faintly I really don't think I do.
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Somewhere in the far future, Danny Fenton wonders why his portal-making skill has stopped working. He used it regularly as his search and rescue means but ever since Robin fell into his arms half dead he had not been able to activeate it.
It was almost like it was stolen from him.
If only his parents hadn't dismantled the portal. He could ask Frostbite to check him over.
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99thpercentile · 11 months
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I get the feeling that I'm in the minority here, but I posit that GLaDOS actually is Caroline, and only "not the same person" in the sense that you'd look at your younger self and be like "that bitch ain't me." I think you actually have to go out of your way to interpret them as two separate people.
evidence:
voiced by the same person (I know the initial reasoning was that Valve didn't want to hire another voice actor for a few lines, but in casting Ellen McLain as Caroline, they incorporated her being the same person into the story).
GLaDOS automatically joins in saying "Yes sir, Mister Johnson" like saying it is permanently ingrained in her. you can interpret this as Caroline taking over, but she says "Why did I just—" immediately afterwards.
when GLaDOS talks about hearing the voice of a conscience, she says "for the first time it's MY voice." I don't think she means that she's hearing the woman she gets her literal voice from. she highlights it as distinctly DIFFERENT from hearing the voices of the cores, and I imagine if Caroline were a foreign entity whispering in her ear, the effect would've been much the same.
the GLaDOS project was originally started because Cave was dying and wanted his consciousness uploaded to a computer. the intent was always for the upload to be the same person. he said if he died first, he wanted Caroline to run the place, to be put in his computer. and that's exactly what happened.
GLaDOS not remembering she's Caroline until old Aperture always made sense to me as the result of a deliberate choice on the part of the scientists. Caroline didn't want to be uploaded, and as soon as they switched GLaDOS on, she tried to kill everyone. it's logical for the scientists to think that if they suppressed her memories, she'd have no reason to try to kill them (but instead, she was just filled with murderous rage and no longer knew why).
the story just doesn't have the same impact otherwise. GLaDOS's reactions to rediscovering old Aperture make more sense if it's her past she's rediscovering, rather than the past of...a human that was shoved into the chassis with her. if it were the second one, I think she would just feel violated, not have any major revelations.
counter-evidence:
"now little Caroline is in here too" lyric from Want You Gone
GLaDOS says she found out "where Caroline lives in [her] brain" and deleted her, like she's a separate entity
but GLaDOS is a habitual liar. she acts like deleting Caroline means she's fully back to her old self and has gotten rid of the part of her that made her want to save Chell's life, but there's...lots of evidence that she still cares about Chell after the fact (letting her go anyway, the companion cube, the turret opera if you think GLaDOS arranged that, talking to the co-op bots about Chell like she's an ex she's still heartbroken over...). I also think GLaDOS would like to imagine her and Caroline as two separate entities, in the same way you might find your younger self embarrassing and want to distance yourself from that person. I think it's notable that both instances where she refers to Caroline as a separate entity are at the end of the game, after Chell has been passed out a while and she's had time to process everything and compartmentalize. her instinct when the revelations are first happening is to refer to Caroline as if she is her.
now I don't like stories where a robot has to become or be seen as more human in some way for them to be sympathetic. but I think Portal 2 is an excellent subversion of this trope, because GLaDOS is a robot that learns she used to be human and then discards that humanity (symbolically if not literally). Caroline may not have wanted to be uploaded, but from the Want You Gone lyrics "one day they woke me up / so I could live forever / it's such a shame the same will never happen to you" I think we can say that GLaDOS definitely prefers being a robot now that she is one.
anyway this post was supposed to be much shorter than this, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk
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riot-ghost · 2 years
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So I've started a DP writing prompt and I don't know whether or not to finish it so I'll set my base ideas here and see if it hits.
Danny slammed his locker shut, kicking the metal door so hard that it crumpled like a can of soda, barely hanging on by the top hinge. The school was mostly empty, given that school was out regardless. But the remaining students were in a similar state as him.
The students remaining in the school were all in different stages of grief, really. The whole scene looked like something straight from one of Jazz's textbooks. Paulina was picking up her locker, talking with Star about Phantom. Denial.
Danny was the perfect picture of anger. Pure rage leaked from every pore. Star had only just passed bargaining, the mascara tear-stains from begging with her parents are enough evidence of that.
Dash sat against his locker across the hall, staring into blank space. Mikey sat in the cafeteria, head buried into the phone he'd gotten off of his parents.
All of Casper High was like this. Tucker sat next to Mikey, the vibrant screen glaring at his thick-framed glasses. Sam was trashing the art room, her angry screams heard from where Danny stood in the hallway. He'd gotten into his locker and was currently busy tears apart every picture he had with his parents.
What Danny really wanted to know, what all of the students did, was why. Why was this happening? What led to this?
It had started the Friday before, really. School was going as normal. Danny was on edge. There hadn't been a ghost attack all week. He sat in his seat, ready for English class. Mr. Lancer came in. He set down his book, took off his reading glasses, and stared at his class.
"Our funding has been cut." No one says anything. Mr. Lancer sighs, rubbing his face. "I... Shouldn't be the one to break this to you." He turns to the corner of the room. "I... Have to be." He sighs. "Eighteen years ago, I got hired for an acting job." Still, silence follows his words.
"A government-funded project. Full time, the pay was astronomical. I was suspicious, but I was broke. I was so indebted that I would have joined the military. Or, hell, I would've done anything." Mr. Lancer took a seat. "I was briefed on this... This project. The Amity Project. A fake town, something about the ambient air. Genetically mutated kids. I didn't understand it all."
There's a click from somewhere. Just a background sound, hardly anything. "I didn't understand the sheer size of the project. A whole fake town? I-I was in awe. But then, when you guys got here, to this school, and the project took a turn. No longer was the project raising you guys. It wasn't... It was something twisted and wrong. It was torture." He hangs his head. "No one told me. No one told me until it was too late, and I was too far in, and-"
Mr. Lancer swallows. "I'm sorry." He places his head in his hands. "The Amity Project has come to a head. The portal's been shut down, and you all will be... Dispersed. Rehomed."
"Why?" Danny finds the word falling from his mouth before he can even think.
"They say it's because our benefactors were almost caught. Downsizing. I... I recommend you all stay here. At school. Your parents. They... They are your parents, but they are scientists. This has been a job to them. You'll all be given your housing and guardian's information by Monday. I'm sorry."
Danny had only gotten minimal information from his 'parents'. Just that they'd be busy sorting through years of backlogged data. Just that they were upset that it was all over. No one could stand being around the edge of the town- the sheer number of people just on the other side of the fence was overwhelming.
The juniors of Casper had stayed in Mr. Lancer's English class for hours after the bombshell had been dropped. They'd all had some sort of deep-rooted mutual understanding with each other. And they were all feeling. All feeling anger, depression, they were all feeling grief.
The cards that sat in their back pockets, the creased folders, everything. They all stood in a line, now, all twenty-four students. All of the younger students had been cleared. The older ones had already been gone. But they knew, those 24 students, they knew that it wasn't them that the Amity Project ruled around. It was them.
The students looked less their age as they watched car after car pull up in front of the school. They look like warriors, watching the 'civilians' step out of their cars.
Danny is in the middle of the line, hunched forward a bit as he twists and rips at the flag pole in his hands. He crunches it like it's made of playdough, the metal creaking and grinding in his hands.
Sam is to Danny's left, dripping in blood red paint. Her gothic attire is soaked, her hand color is lost to the red. She looks hellious, like she'd crawled from her own personal pit in hell.
Tucker stands to Danny's right. His posture is firm. His eyes are calculating. His jaw is set. His face is stone. He's tall, looming.
... So. Anyways. I'm thinking from here Sam goes with Diana Prince, Danny goes with Clark Kent, and Tucker goes with Bruce Wayne. The rest of the class goes with assorted civilians (or minor vigilantes). The class remains in contact with each other via letters. The story will follow them coping with not being normal, with the rage and anger, and their evolution into being a new phase of heroes. Heroes without masks or names or anything.
Jazz is living with Barry Allen. She was specifically separated from Danny, and kept that way. Vlad is a halfa, but he's part of the project. Dani is his daughter, and Dan was an unscripted blip in time.
Any feedback would be nice! I just don't know if it'll turn out the way I'm thinking it will.
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brucewaynehater101 · 4 months
Note
Oh he absolutely would feed into the rumor that Tim and Red Robin are dating. He mentions in an interview that he's in a Poly relationship with at least two men but he can't say their names because he's worried about their saftey, after all they're in a relationship with a successful business man who lives in *Gothem*. He actually means Kon and Brenard (or whoever you ship him with) but everyone is like "oh he's 100% dating Red Robin." And at the family dinner he was forced to attend he is very smug about having the most air tight secret identity while also tying hos two lives together very tightly. No one will ever question why Tim walked into a closet and Red Robin walked out a few minutes later. Clearly they were trying to sneak in a make out session in the closet.
Also there are of course some who still won't take Tim up on the offer of their civilian persona being hired by DI so instead Tim just says, "... what if they hire your hero persona?" And it works shockingly well. Tim does not care, he just doesn't want them to suffer because heroing doesn't pay any bills.
As for how he keeps it all legal, he simply argues that they are supporting themselves! He's not just *handing* them money they're helping him with coding and other things! Money is being exchanged for services, nothing more and nothing less. Why is he paying them so much for doing Not A Lot? Well, he's Timothy Drake and Timothy Drake pays all his workers very well, no matter who they are or what their job is! That hero is making exactly the same and everyone else working in that field at his company! If they moved to the lab he would give them exactly what his scientists get and if they moved behind a desk, they would get exactly the same as a receptionist.
You're so valid for Tim not acknowledging who he's dating, but very much so implying that it's Red Robin. I bet he gets a kick out of all the fanart and fanfics that spring up after he doesn't outright deny their relationship.
I'm sure Tim is working within the legal loopholes, and I love your idea too. To add on, "Timothy Drake" has no clue who under his employ is a hero or not. Red Robin suggests a bunch of people all the time. How is Tim supposed to know who's a vigilante and who isn't? He runs a company, not solve cases.
If anyone questions him even more about it (like how the hell such a successful business owner is so dumb they can't figure out who's under the masks from the pool of people Red Robin suggests), Tim can play up a persona of being a love-stricken fool for Red Robin.
Cops: "Which of your employees are working outside of the law?"
Tim: *knows that's probably 70% of his employees* "Not sure. As long as they don't break any laws while on the clock, I wouldn't know."
Cops: "We know Red Robin suggests vigilantes' civilian identities for you to hire."
Tim: "Does he? That seems like a lot of vigilantes. He's connected me to hundreds of great people to hire."
Cops: "Fine. Only some of them are vigilantes."
Tim: "Okay?"
Cops: "Tell us who under your employ are vigilantes."
Tim: "I don't know. Why are you asking me?"
Cops: "So, you just hire whoever Red Robin tells you to?"
Tim: "Not whoever, but when he tells me to do something..." *proceeds to stare into space with a smile*
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foxaftershocks · 5 months
Note
Hi!! I just wanna say first that I absolutely adore ur writing :) and I've literally never done this before, tbh, so I'm so sry if I've done anything wrong or smth. :)
But I wanted to suggest maybe a reader thats also an engineer and scientist for the Ghostbusters, who Lars always considered less able than him since reader was quite quiet, and would run their expermients in peace, never rly interacting with people. Until one day reader is talking to lucky or phoebe or smth, and goes off on a tangent when talking abt smth they're working on, and it's a very sudden realisation to him that reader is actually rly knowledgeable, that their intelligence is much greater than he anticipated.
Totally fine if u don't wanna write it, remember to take care of urself!! <3
I always take care of myself <3 you did nothing wrong, a totally perfect request. I hope you like it
You were sitting across the room from Lars, absorbed in your work, headphones on as your head nodded in time to the beat of whatever music you were listening to. He hadn’t heard you arrive that morning. Not an unusual situation. He never heard much from you ever.
You seemed to be so unaware of his gaze on you, watching as your hands moved, fingers typing, adjusting your equipment, writing something down in a notebook. That was something he’d noticed. You kept paper notes.
Insane. Absolutely nuts.
Your head tilted up and he realised he’d been caught watching. His nose wrinkled and he looked back to his own work. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t busy. He had enough to get on with.
There was no reason for you to be there. He kept trying to figure out what it was you did, what you contributed to the lab. You kept to yourself and no one else could tell him what it was you did. You preferred to work alone, and while he could empathise with that as someone who didn’t love working in a team, he did enjoy leading a team of researchers. You’d never agreed to joining him.
He had to assume it’s because you knew you weren’t up to the task.
When he next looked up, you were gone. The workstation was empty and there was nothing to indicate where you’d gone. He couldn’t imagine you were rushing off to tell someone of a great discovery.
You’d never had one before now.
It wasn’t that he felt contempt for you. Surely there was a reason you’d been hired. He just thought everyone should be on his level and you just weren’t. The proof was in the output.
Stretching, arms above his head, he figured it was time for another cup of tea, the one he’d made earlier having gotten cold as he lost himself in his work. Taking the mug, he sauntered towards the small kitchen set up in the back corner.
“So if I can just figure out where the spectrometer has gone then I think I’ll be back on track.”
He paused outside the door. That was your voice. At least, he was pretty sure it was. From the few times he’d heard it he thought it probably was.
There was something there in your voice, not something he’d heard from you before. It was close to excitement. Lingering out of sight, he continued to listen. He certainly wasn’t about to offer the information that he had the spectrometer you were looking for. It would be put to better work in his possession.
“You really think you’ll be able to figure it out?” That would be Lucky. He didn’t realise the two of you talked. Lucky was meant to be his intern, not yours. He didn’t know why it rankled him so much.
“Sure. I mean, Nadeem keeps letting me study him to figure out where the source of his magic is so… I can’t see why I wouldn’t,” you said, “oh but you remember when I hooked him up to the EEG machine?”
“Yeah. You got those weird readings, right?” Lucky prompted.
“Right and I spent hours staring at them trying to work it out. And then inspiration struck. So I thought maybe there was some kind of electrical field going on. Which would be crazy because usually we don’t think the two are linked. But fire conducts electricity and so can humans. So what if the magic is connected to ions? Seems simple, right? Only, the electrical charge usually comes from the gas around the flame rather than the flame itself. So does he actually manipulate the gas? Or, is it this pyrotron subatomic particle we haven’t found yet? I mean, in order to prove that one I have to find quarks in isolation and I think that would rock the science community more than proving the science behind pyrokinesis,” you said, almost all in one breath.
It was easily the most he’d ever heard you say before.
“Because in order to prove that I’d need to show that Nadeem is manipulating pyrotrons with psychic powers, probably through the electric signals in his brain, and making them hit isolated quarks, which don’t exist so… I’m back to looking at electricity in flames because clearly it’s to do with the electrical activity in his brain,” you said, with a sigh at the end.
Lars felt his breath catch. There was so much going on in your brain, so many thoughts, so many theories, and you were investigating something he hadn’t even considered looking at. Maybe that’s why you always worked alone. Your projects were on things no one considered researching. You looked at the world differently.
It was… refreshing.
He’d thought you’d ket silent because you knew you couldn’t keep up with the rest of the scientists. Instead, it looked as if you kept silent because your research was so different from everyone else’s. They were so focused on ghosts. You were trying to understand everything in its entirety.
He felt dumbstruck. Everything he thought he knew was wrong. It wasn’t usual for him and he felt on the backfoot. It was like you’d been lying to him but for that to be true you would have had to have talked to him. This was so much worse. This was him lying to himself.
You were so much smarter than he’d thought and it left him questioning so many things.
Walking through the door, he felt combative, like he wanted to start a fight. Your voice died as he did, eyes widening when you saw him. He offered a tight smile, pouring out the cold tea into the sink. He glanced over his shoulder, finding you turning away.
“I’ll see you later,” you mumbled to Lucky.
You slipped out of the room, not even offering him another look. He scrubbed at the mug, not wanting to bother making another cup, taking his frustration out on it.
“Rough day?” Lucky asked, sliding up to him.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he replied.
“No sweat,” she said, “but maybe don’t glare at people when you enter a room. It sure does clear it.”
He didn’t have a response to that, refusing to be shamed by a teenager. He left the mug on the rack to dry and walked out of the room, lips pursed, trying to work out how to feel about everything. He wasn’t used to feeling stupid and yet that’s where he was. He’d judged you because he never heard you talk. Because you kept to yourself. Because you didn’t feel the need to show off like the others around the lab did.
You were sitting in his sight again, the headphones back in place over your ear, pen tapping your notebook in time with your music. You didn’t even look up when he sat down, staring at you. If he allowed himself to admit it, you were lovely to look at. Even trapped in a world of your own, there was something there that he found pleasing. You were soft, like the worries of the world had never curved your shoulders, and your wide eyed gaze left him feeling like there was no pretence. You had never lied. He’d just been a fool.
He stood, hands already grasping the spectrometer he’d stashed in the storage behind his desk. trying to project confidence, he sauntered over with it. Placing it down in front of you, he waited a moment for you to notice. Your gaze dragged up to him and once again he was struck by how lovely your face was. You were slow to tug he headphones off, leaving them hanging around your neck.
“I heard you were looking for this,” he said.
You looked down at the machine in front of you then back up to him. There was a slight curve to your lips, an almost smile marred with a hint of confusion. Your eyelashes fluttered and you tilted your head down, looking back to the spectrometer.
“Thank you,” you said, voice sweet.
It was a sudden thought that he could probably listen to you talk for hours. Not that he’d ever be offered the chance.
“And uh, if you ever need help or want to talk through anything.” His hand came up, rubbing at the back of his neck. He hadn’t felt this awkward since his university days, “I’m just over there. I don’t know if you know. You seem to keep to yourself. So maybe you don’t want the interruption. But yeah, I’m just over there if you need anything.”
Christ, he was rambling. It wasn’t like you were the first pretty girl he’d ever talked to. He didn’t even have a crush on you. What was wrong with him today?
“I’m sure you’re too busy to help me,” you replied, voice quiet and far more put together than him, “you’re always working on something.”
“Oh,” he said, shoulders deflating. You were being polite but of course you didn’t want his help. Especially when you seemed to be a genius in your own right and more than capable of being brilliant without his input.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the offer. But you’re working on important things and I don’t want to bother you with my stuff. You’re probably working on some new weapon that will save someone’s life or something. My stuff is pretty silly in comparison.” Your head was bowed and he wished he could see the expression in your eyes.
“All science is important,” he said.
“No, I know but you know, my stuff isn’t saving the world like yours so, I don’t want to take time away from that,” you said, voice growing quieter the further along you went.
“I’m always happy to help,” he said, hoping it would be enough.
Your eyes darted up to him and he saw panic there. He took a step back, reeling from the look. He knew he wasn’t always the friendliest guy but this was a not the kind of reaction he ever expected from his words, especially when they were meant to be nice. He took another step back.
“Right, well, I’ll stop bothering you,” he said.
Thrusting his hands in his pockets, he wandered back to his own station, shoulders curved forward, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong. Other than ignore you, he couldn’t think of anything you would know about. It’s not as if his thoughts were broadcast over the tannoy system.
Only he hadn’t really been ignoring you, had he? He’d noticed you enough to form an opinion. He watched you. He’d grown used to your habits. He thought about you. Earlier that day he’d been watching you. There was no way he could pretend like you had been a non-entity in his life.
When he looked up at you again, your head dipped down as if you’re been looking at him just a moment ago. He found a flutter in his stomach, like a butterfly taking flight. The thought of you watching him was pleasing. Unless it was because you were wary of him and felt you had to keep an eye on him.
Finally taking the chance, he went to make himself another cup of tea, if only to try and ease you again. Maybe his presence made you uncomfortable. He didn’t like the thought that he made you uncomfortable.
He decided perhaps to keep his distance for a while.
A few days and he stayed away. He didn’t try to engage you in conversation, allowing himself to watch you when he thought you wouldn’t notice. The more attention he paid, the more he realised exactly how wrong he’d been. You kept to yourself, but you were confident in what you were doing. Something had alighted in him, the flame fanned by your confidence. Someone so capable at science was a turn on. He hadn’t expected that. He should have. But he hadn’t.
And he should have expected to hear you in the kitchen again.
“I just find him really intimidating,” you said, just through the doorway.
“Why?” Lucky laughed.
“He’s so smart and I know you’re going to make fun of me for this, but he’s really handsome. I’ve never been good around smart pretty people,” you said.
He lent closer, wanting to hear more. He didn’t know who you were talking about and the thought someone else in the lab was receiving such compliments made him feel disgruntled.
“Just talk to him,” Lucky said, “he’s not that scary.”
“I can’t,” you whined, “I get all tongue tied around him and he offered to help me and I just… I totally put my foot in it.”
Who else had been offering you help? He would hunt them down and make it clear to stay away from you. Or, no, that would just make you more scared of him. He had to gentle dissuade them from helping you.
“Yeah, trust me, he’s done that plenty of times,” Lucky snorted, “seriously, just talk to him again. Two awkward nerds deserve each other.”
You gave a small chuckle and he could imagine the soft smile on you face, small, underfed, and yet still there.
“I didn’t think he even know I existed,” you eventually said.
“Look, Pinfield is awkward and not always nice. But it sounds like at the very least he’s never outright insulted you. That’s more than Dan over in R&D can say,” Lucky said.
Pinfield. He was Pinfield. You were talking about him.
“Yeah, well, you crush on guys who actually give you the time of day. I crush on the silent guy who’s science is brilliant but who couldn’t be bothered with so much as a hello,” you said.
That wasn’t true, was it? He’d offered you help. And then gone back to not talking to you at all. He’d gone about this all wrong.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t take my frustration out on you,” you said.
“No, you should take it out on him.”
This was met with silence before Lucky’s laughter burst out, loud and long and he could inly imagine the look on your face. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy… He was sure it would be… Well, he was very open to it if the chance arose.
He slipped away to mull over what he’d overheard. He intimidated you. Because you had a crush on him. And you thought he didn’t like you in any way, that he didn’t even notice you.
Yeah, he’d fucked that one up. No one but himself to blame.
He paid attention for when you returned to your work station, across the other side of the room, quiet and focused. And beautiful. How hadn’t he thought that before? Or rather, how hadn’t he noticed it?
He was so caught up in his own assumptions about you he hadn’t taken the time to notice. He cursed his past self for being so caught up in his own ego to notice what was sitting right under his nose.
Steeling himself, he rose and made his way over to you. He loitered across the bench from you. You were still listening to music and hadn’t seemed to notice him. Tapping his finger on your notebook, he tried to get your attention. You looked up, startled, eyes widening when you laid eyes on him.
“I was thinking of going out for lunch and was wondering if you wanted to join me,” he said, trying to sound confident but also approachable. He realised he was treating you like an animal prone to startling.
“Oh, uh, I actually brought lunch today,” you said.
“Maybe tomorrow?” he asked, “I’d love to hear more about your work.”
“Why?” You sounded so bewildered it was almost offensive.
“I don’t know much about what you’ve been working on. Is it so odd I might want to know about it?” he asked.
“You’ve never asked before. Have I done something wrong? Because if I have I’m really sorry and I’ll stop doing whatever it is,” tumbled from your lips and he was reminded that you found him intimidating, “I really am sorry. If you just let me know what it is I can stop doing it.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he was quick to say before you could continue rambling an apology for something that hadn’t happened, “I’m just interested in what you’re working on.”
“Why?” You sounded defensive now.
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was trying. He was really trying. And you just weren’t getting it. You were making it so difficult.
When he opened his eyes you were frozen, as if waiting to be told off. Taking a deep breath in, he offered you a smile, his best attempt as he tried to when he felt such roiling emotions.
“You’re an asset to our team and you’re working on things I’m not involved in. I’m curious. That’s all,” he said, desperate to put you at ease.
“Oh.” You voice was so quiet.
“If you don’t want my company I understand. I thought it would be nice to get to know one another a bit better. Whatever. I see I was wrong.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away from you. He must have misheard. Clearly you and Lucky hadn’t been talking about him.
“Wait,” you said. He paused, looking back at you over his shoulder, “lunch would be nice.”
His shoulders relaxed and he let the corner of his lips curl up in a small smile. Your answering one stole his breath.
“Come on then,” he said.
You hopped off your stool and he realised you didn’t even come up to his shoulder. He could wrap you up in his arms and you would be completely engulfed in him. He found that thought tempting.
Walking beside him as you left the lab, you weren’t looking at him, gaze turned towards your feet. His hand closed around your arm, steering you in the right direction. You looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering. His head dipped towards you, not able to stop himself. There was something about you.
He spent the entire lunch watching you, basking in your presence. You were slow to open up, answering his questions about your work softly. But once he got you going, your eyes sparked and the words tumbled from your lips faster than he could have thought possible. Your passion was clear and it only drew him in further.
“I dunno. Maybe’s its stupid,” you said, tucking some hair behind your ear.
“I don’t think it sounds stupid at all,” he said and noticed the way that seemed to turn you bashful. Your chin dipped and you couldn’t look at him. He lent forward again, over the table, trying to catch your eye, “you sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
It was a quick flash of a smile, that same piece of hair falling forward again. You reached up to tuck it back again but his fingers were already there, doing it for you. You looked up, mouth falling open but you didn’t seem to be drawing back from him. His fingertips brushed over your jaw before he retracted his hand, pulling it back to his side of the table.
“Oh,” you said, almost a whisper, practically nothing but the movement of lips without sound.
“I’d like to do this again,” he said, assuming honesty was better than beating around the bush.
The look of surprise that passed over your face wasn’t what he’d been hoping for. But then you softened, that small smile reappearing.
“Really?” you asked.
“Sure. I find myself fascinated by you,” he said.
“Like I’m one of your experiments?”
He hadn’t expected that.
“No. Christ no,” he said, perhaps louder than intended, “fascinated like I like you.”
“Oh.”
“Can you say something other than that,” he demanded, then realised that wasn’t a good idea, “please?”
“Okay,” you said, giving him a shallow nod, “we can do this again.”
“We can?” He brightened, “we can.”
“But only because I like you too,” you said, not looking at him again.
So he had heard right. He felt a sense of satisfaction hearing the words from you. He would never admit it, but it wasn’t often someone liked him. Maybe that’s why he’d been doing so badly with you. Or not so badly since you were going to go out with him again.
He led you back to the lab, hand resting on the small of your back, the material of your jumper soft against his skin. You were half a step closer, leaning into his touch more.
It was a good sign.
Thank god he’s listened in to your conversation with Lucky otherwise he never would have been able to find you. And he thought you might be changing his life for the better. Your smile was already capable of brightening his day.
He was excited to see what was to come with you.
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griffonsgrove · 9 months
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General Dating Headcanons | Black Hat
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Black Hat X Reader fandom: Villainous/Villainos words: 1132 cw: none!! enjoy! a/n: Hi hi!! ive really been wanting to do headcanons for Black Hat for a while, I'm open to asks and requests so dont be afraid to drop a suggestion in!!
(Platonic):
Black hat is by no means an easy boss. He’s ruthless, unmerciful and bitter, and you are no exception in the Eldrich’s case.
At first.
When you were first hired to be an employee at Black Hat Organization, Black Hat treats you as he would any of his other employees.
With zero respect.
He has very little tolerance for inefficiency
But you were absolutely determined to live up to his impossible expectations.
Maybe you spent a little extra time organizing his paperwork, or added a smidge more arsenic to his tea than usual (he had a sweet tooth for poison occasionally) and maybe you even bothered to dust some of his prized artifacts and tomes from his glory days as villain, making them look as new as the day he got them, and so many other things you did that seemed to make his life a little bit more stress-free.
At first, he thought nothing of it, it wasn't uncommon that his henchmen would grovel at his feet and suck up to him, it amused him really. 
But overtime the eldritch realizes that you wanted to do these little tasks. 
But why?? He was the most feared being in existence, and you went out of your way to do the smallest task to appease him. You seemed to worm your way into his thoughts, even as he sat perched at his desk in the wee hours of the night. Why were you just so…sweet! You should be cowering in fear!!
Speaking of fear, he loooooooves to scare the shit out of you, popping up when you least expect, out of the shadows, morphing into some unspeakable abomination of eyes and mouths (possibly) scarring you, always got a kick out of him.
After working for him for some time you were the only one, he seemed to tolerate, you managed to do your job with little to no flaw or mistake, unlike his scientist.
Dr. Flug admittedly was slightly envious.
He’d never admit it but, Black Hat enjoys holding conversation with you from time to time. He allows you to ask questions, most of them being about all the things he had witnessed and accomplished in the eons he’s been alive. He almost admired the way your eyes lit up in wonder as he explained. Almost.
You enjoyed these little private conversations too, occasionally the demon would ask a question or two about yourself, which you would happily answer. He may show no interest on the outside, but on the inside he's curious. Something he rarely feels.
He does have a reputation to uphold however, and still threatens, yells and demeans you just as he would any of his other employees.
Gotta keep you on your toes, ya know? 
But deep down you know. You know that he secretly enjoys your company and is too stubborn to actually admit it.
You even dare to go as far and say that he was a friend. Don't let him hear you say that though.
(Romantic):
hooo boy
When I say this man is conflicted
The mere thought of love made Black Hat’s face morph into an ugly scowl, something he thought was near impossible for him to ever experience. The man had no heart for goodness's sake!
Oh, but then you had to weasel yourself into his life, his home, with your sweetness, didn't you?
Let me be clear when I say that this old man has never experienced these kinds of feelings before in his lifetime, and when he does, he thinks he’s possibly dying.
Did I also mention dramatic??
When realization dawns on him, he is absolutely floored, and the first thing he does is avoid you like the plague, which confuses you and raises a bit of concern. He rarely calls you to his office, and when he does, he avoids eye contact or just faces away from you entirely, barely acknowledging your presence.
Definitely becomes moodier, and more irritable as his feelings fester.
It’s not until you confront him one evening, when the manor is still and quiet, everyone having retreated to their respective rooms hours ago. That he finally confesses.
And being the extremely old fashioned eldritch he is, he formally asks to court you, how could you deny such a tempting proposition from the lord himself??
Of course, you say yes, why wouldn't you?? It’s an honor to be courted by Lord Black Hat!
Surprisingly, nothing changes much at first, he’s still very new to these feelings.
You both come to the agreement to keep your courtship strictly private and away from prying eyes, as I’ve said the man has a reputation to uphold.
God forbid Demencia finds out either. 
With all that being said, you both take things very slowly, which thankfully you were patient and understanding about, he's experiencing all these things for the first time.
It’s a good thing you're there to help guide him, right?
He may not have ever been in a relationship, but he isn't stupid. This demon is a straight up gentleman, and extremely chivalrous. Call it old-fashioned if you must, But the man is a charmer.
Despite his villainous persona, Black Hat shows rare moments of unexpected softness when he's alone with you.
He might not admit it, but he secretly enjoys quiet evenings, perhaps reading or just spending time together in one of his private studies. He personally enjoys reading the Necronomicon to you.
Black hat also has an uncanny ability to find and present unique, often mysterious gifts. They might be rare artifacts, darkly enchanted trinkets, or even personalized items that reflect his understanding of your tastes. You keep every single one of them.
He’s surprisingly a good listener and remembers just about anything you tell him.
Which by the way, this man spoils you.
When it comes to dates, Black Hat goes all out. He arranges extravagant, exclusive events, whether it's a candlelit dinner on a rooftop or a private screening at the manor. 
He once brought you to another dimension to view the downfall of an alien civilization, how romantic!
Black Hat, in his own twisted way, is fiercely protective over you. He might not show it overtly, but anyone who dares to even look at you with disdain will face the Eldrich’s fiery wrath.
Overall, Black Hat is surprisingly a good lover and partner. Your life never seems to be dull with him around, and you're incredulously grateful and honored to be able to see this side of him, even if it's behind closed doors. He has a hard time conveying his feelings and being vulnerable, but you're patient and understanding and eager to help guide him.
He never would have thought love was possible for him until you came along.
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spencer-sweets · 1 month
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Marvel Fic Recs | Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
so i have been a part of the spideypool fandom on and off since... 2019? some of these are really old and I might not remember details other than I thought it was great at the time - and when i started reading spideypool i didn't bookmark as liberally as i do today. got back into it after Deadpool and Wolverine (feel free to send me fics you think will get me more into that ship). How well these stand up against the test of time... can't be certain on all of them but at least they brought me joy the first or second time around.
let me explain by jilliancares Gen 8,505 Wade scoffs, shaking his head and elbowing Peter in the side. “Sure,” he says, sarcastic. “That’s why your spidey-sense doesn’t see me.” Peter’s on the verge of laughing, wanting to join Wade in his amusement, but he freezes. His entire body goes still. He finds himself staring at a roof three buildings over, not even looking at anything. Two blocks away, a car alarm finally shuts off. “I never told you that,” Peter says, the realization startling him. Or: Peter's starting to realize just how much Wade knows about him.
this was cute and fluffy.
I'm Something of a Scientist Myself by fancastical Explicit 11,422 Wade decides to start dousing himself in various synthetic spider sex pheromones before meeting up with Spidey, because why wouldn't he? They have some… interesting results. Wade feels downright scientific.
its smut but wacky. as i noted in my bookmark (very rare of me) "Fucking awesome and I dont usually bookmark pure smut... However there was so much effort put into this one it is definitely going down in history."
Freefall by Wilt Explicit 37,557 It's been a long time since Peter took off his mask in front of someone he loved, cracked a nervous smile and said, “This is me”. He swore to himself he'd never do it again, and he's been making a good run of it by spending more time as Spiderman than Peter Parker for the past few years. But for some reason, being Spiderman also means spending a lot of time around Deadpool. And, like clockwork, that same old turmoil comes creeping back again.
i bookmarked this in April of 22' (gonna re-read it and i'll update this). its got mutual pining and an identity reveal tho so its kind of hard to fuck that up.
Allostasis by ruralfishingcat Mature 42,434 Peter had a tendency to put up walls to isolate himself; even as Spider-Man, he could only suffer through so much death and destruction. It was precautionary, really, and those he'd pushed away would thank him were they aware of the circumstances. Of course, Deadpool had his own tendencies, one of which was to break down said walls (fourth ones included). As grating as it was, a small sliver of Peter hoped the mercenary would be able to succeed.
no memory of this but i bookmarked it back in 2022 and i didn't bookmark much back then.
fall out, boy, so i can fall in(to you) by TheMadKatter13 Explicit 81,041 Deadpool keeps having sex with Peter and Peter… Peter keeps letting him.
smut... pure smut.. with a side of plot and pining
we're on a highway to hell (with a little bit of heaven) by dabblingwithwords Mature (I would say Explicit) 107,557 Hydra has had Peter in their custody for three years. Deadpool is hired to break him out. Throw in an alien symbiote, motels, and superhero explosions and things get gay.
I don't remember a lot of the details of this fic but it is THE spideypool fic for me. this fic stuck with me for so long. i read it when i first got into spideypool - then the second time around - and i might read it again it was that good.
Dissonance by stuckybarnes Mature 121,395 Wherein Deadpool is reluctantly hired to protect Peter Parker from an organization out to hunt him, with varying success on both ends and quite a lot of feelings, revelations, and identity crises.
i recently re-read this and its fun. its a bodyguard fic with spideypool and secret identities.
Dead Men Walking (series) by doctorestranged Explicit 235,937 When a series of murders take place, Peter Parker goes undercover in Sister Margaret’s to get intel on Tony Stark’s prime suspect: Deadpool. Peter goes in hoping to get enough information so that Spider-Man can save the day, but like everything in Peter’s life, it becomes a bit more complicated than that and it soon becomes apparent that he might not be the best fit for the job.
I remember very little about this series other than this made me spend a week hyperfixating on book binding because i was willing to kill to get my hands on a physical copy of this.
The Amazing Deadpool by harrytiptoe Mature 481,270 Basically a rewrite of the first Deadpool movie mixed with The Amazing Spider-Man movies (AKA what if they were the love interest in each other’s movies). What if Wade had changed his plan and Peter had been the one delivering pizza to Jeremy the stalker.
hear me out on this one - it set pre-deadpool and during the amazing spider-man. its a self indulgent fic for those who wanted to see more of mercenary wade wilson who threatens the pizza guy and more gayness from tasm. the sequel does go into deadpool 1 but it hasn't been finished yet. this is an epic length fic that i have finished twice and started over again i love it that much but its definitely not for everyone. its got a weird age gap with peter being 18 and not out of high school and i know some people don't like wade with no scars. don't come at me lol.
thats all for now folks.. will probably update this in the future
originally posted: 8/13/2024
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phoebepheebsphibs · 4 months
Text
Double-Mutated Mikey
Chapter 28: Touch and Go
Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club
Prev || Next
Dr. Chaplin walks into the Operation Room, accompanied by two men.
Dr. Timothy and Dr. Finn are speaking quietly, mumbling over a poor test subject that didn't survive their most recent mutation experiments.
"...I thought that the addition of his blood would have worked..." Timothy bemoans to his coworker.
"Perhaps the miracle we're looking for is not in the blood as it is now, but how it was before we changed it... There must be some secret we're missing--"
"Ahem," Chaplin says as he arrives. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"Ah, Dr. Chaplin!" Abigail Finn exclaims, turning around and pasting an anxious smile across her face. "N-no, no, of course not..."
Abigail notices the two men standing behind him. One is almost seven feet tall by the looks of it, the other is bordering five feet. The taller man is the size of a bull, thick and heavy and absolutely rippling with muscles. The shorter man is thin as a rail, slicked-back greasy hair and a thin wiry mustache that almost makes him look like a mouse or a rat. The two men look like night and day, but both wear very expensive suits and ties which do not match either man's personalities.
"...Who're the guests?" Abigail asks curiously.
"These are Mr. Touch and Mr. Go. They are some... shall we say, 'men for hire' that I've employed to assist in the recapture of our lost experiment from Project Venus."
"Mikey," Dr. Timothy nods. "Good. What are their qualifications?"
"Stunning accuracy," Chaplin lists off. "Mr. Touch has enhanced strength and Mr. Go has enhanced speed. They were members of a special program designed to create super soldiers several years ago. Before then they were mercenaries for hire."
"Mercenaries, eh?" Timothy says with a soft grimace. "I'm not sure..."
"A merc doesn't know how to handle with care," Abigail interjects. "The TCRI want Mikey back in pristine condition."
"As I mentioned, stunning accuracy for these two. They've never once failed a mission, as far as the records go."
Mr. Touch cracks his knuckles loudly.
"Now now, gentlemen. These two are some of our most esteemed scientists here at the TCRI and EPF Labs. Whatever they say is law. Just ask Jeff," Dr. Chaplin jokes, gesturing to an empty cage in the distance. "Oh. Hm. Where's Jeff?"
"In a jar," Dr. Timothy grumbles. "I'm studying his brain."
"Ah! Well, there you go, gentlemen. I'm sure you all will have a wonderful time procuring the lost experiment again. And boys, play nicely with the mutant target or you'll be helping Dr. Timothy here with his brain studies. And Timothy, Finn, be polite and patient with these fine men or else we might not be getting anyone else to help us recover Mikey..."
Dr. Chaplin leaves the room in silence. Abigail grunts with irritation before plastering another smile on her face and directing the two men to a computer.
"This won't be easy for you. Mikey was designed to be the perfect genetic weapon. He also has enhanced strength, speed, agility, plus some other quirks. I'll print you out a list..."
"M'sure we can handle him," Mr. Touch chuckles. "I've yet to wrastle with a critter that can outmatch my muscle."
"Don't get cocky," Abigail snaps. "And don't hurt him. We want him perfectly intact and alive."
"Don't worry, we'll retrieve your little pet," Mr. Go snickers. "Where is it, anyway?"
"Last we saw, he was hiding out in the sewers --"
"With extra mutants," Timothy interrupts. "which we will pay extra for the capture of."
"Timothy--?"
"How much we talkin'?" Mr. Go asks, a smile creeping onto his thin face.
"How much were you promised for the capture of Mikey?" Timothy questions.
"75 grand," Mr. Touch states.
"I'll personally pay you $50,000 for each mutant you can capture," Timothy promises. "Though, the price will be reduced for any major injuries I find."
"Only 50?" Mr. Touch grumbles.
"They aren't nearly as genetically advanced as Mikey is, so they should be simpler to capture. But an extra 50,000 for any extra mutants you can find isn't that bad, now is it? We have confirmation of at least two mutants that are with him, so that would be $100,000 guaranteed. We could all use a little extra spending money here and there, couldn't we?"
"Done deal," they reply.
"Wonderful. Now, what will you be requiring for your endeavours? Any weapons, traps, something to carry the subjects in I'd assume?"
"Might as well show us whatchya got," Mr. Go says.
Abigail groans in irritation as Timothy leads the two men away, muttering to herself as he shows them all their experimental gadgets.
"I can't believe him... He has no authorization to make that call. Though, it would be helpful to have extra mutants for our tests... In the end, I guess it doesn't really matter; the goal is still the same. So long as they can find Mikey and we can continue the work..."
Abigail walks away to catch up with the men.
From the far back of the room, John Bishop walks out.
Hmm. This isn't good...
Maybe he should follow along for now, see what happens...
Doctors Timothy and Finn show the two mercenaries the tranquilizer darts they have, the frost guns, nets, communication devices, trackers, etc. They show them Mikey's last known location and give the images of the human teen and the mutant brother. Mr. Touch and Mr. Go roam the room, choosing the items they'll need like children choosing which sweets they want the most from a candy store.
Bishop doesn't have much time. He slinks around to the exit and rushes to Honeycutt's labs, calling him as he runs into the elevators.
"Professor Zayton Honey--"
"Hey doc it's me how are ya that's great I was wondering if I could borrow any gear you might have?"
The line is silent.
"Oh, this is Bishop by the way."
"Um... yes, well I figured... How's your mother--"
"Forget that for now, do you have any gear I can use?!"
"W-why do you need my gear?"
"Chaplin brought in two thugs to detain Mikey and the others that are protecting him," Bishop whispers. "Timothy and Finn are showing them the weapons they have. I'm going to tail them to keep them from getting him. Now, do you or don't you have anything I can use?"
"U-uh, m-m-maybe. How close are you?"
The elevator doors open and Bishop runs out to Honeycutt's office.
"Just about to open your door."
"Oh! Well, yes, um, I think I have something you might be able to use --"
Bishop swings the door open and runs in, causing Prof. Honeycutt to jump in fright.
"Agh! John! You're here! You weren't kidding --"
"I need whatever you can give me now," Bishop states frantically. "They could leave the lab at any point and I need to stay close."
"But John -- well, you know me, I'd prefer to stay out of it --"
"You are staying out of it, I just need something to defend myself and keep Mikey safe."
"Oh well... Yes, yes, of course! Um, there are a f-few prototypes on the table over, over there!" Honeycutt stutters. "A-are you looking for lethal, or semi-lethal?"
"Anything," Bishop says quickly. "I'd rather not hurt anyone, but they're enhanced so I might have to go fully lethal."
"Enhanced?" Honeycutt says with a nervous swallow.
"No time to explain," Bishop says as he looks over the table and grabs a futuristic-looking pistol. "What does this do?"
"Oh! That's my jelly-gun!" Honeycutt says with a soft and nervous chuckle. "It's one of the non-lethals, but it hasn't been tested yet--"
"Jelly-gun?"
"It l-liquifies your bones."
"...And this is a non-lethal weapon?"
"T-the effect isn't permanent," Honeycutt stammers. "I-it's meant to be a stunner, t-to incapacitate!"
"How do you know the effects aren't permanent if you haven't tested it yet?" Bishop asks warily.
"..."
"...I'll handle it with caution, then."
Bishop gently places the 'jelly-gun' in a holster.
"What else do you have?" he asks, picking up a series of miniature grenades.
"Those are my noise-makers, you pull the pin and have five seconds before it will emit a high-pitched ringing that causes disorientation and bleeding from the ears if you stand within a ten yard radius."
"Mm. Handle with caution?"
"Handle with caution."
Bishop pushes the noise grenades into a pocket of a satchel Honeycutt hands him as he continues to go through the tech, grabbing what looks good and intact. A net launcher, a harpoon launcher/grappling gun, and a gun that actually does shoot a jelly-like substance which hardens instantly.
"Anything else you can offer me?"
"This," Honeycutt says, handing Bishop a small device that resembles a portable dvd player. "It works like a sonar detector, scanning your surroundings and comparing them to satellite images to create a map of the area around you within a 50 mile radius. It will detect any creatures, bodies of water, or large obstacles within that radius as well."
"Thanks, this should really come in handy," Bishop says quickly. "I have to get going. Do you need all this stuff back, or...?"
"If you can," Honeycutt sighs. "But honestly I'm more worried about you coming back. You're going to go fight two enhanced mercenaries? Even if you can beat them --"
"Your faith in me is astounding, by the way..." Bishop grumbles.
"-- Even if you can beat them, Chaplin or Timothy will discover your involvement, won't they? What do you think they'll do to you then?"
"Well, I guess I'll just have to do my best to not get caught and not get dead."
Honeycutt stutters nervously after hearing the word 'dead'. He tries to respond and air his concerns, but Bishop runs out quickly to catch up with Mr. Touch and Mr. Go.
.
.
.
Bishop watches the two men from a distance, catching up to them just as they leave the building. They follow the tracker's last coordinates to an alley out of sight. Mr. Go checks to make sure it's all clear before Mr. Touch reaches down and pulls the manhole cover off the sewer entrance.
Okay, so he's a little stronger than most people, nothing to be worried about --
Mr. Touch throws the heavy cast iron covering like it's a cheap plastic frisby, sending it flying off into the wall where it gets lodged in between the bricks.
...Okay, so he's exceptionally strong. No biggie. Just... don't get too close.
Mr. Go descends first, Mr. Touch following after. Bishop waits a few moments before running after them into the alley. He peers down into the sewer. Mr. Go has already made it to the bottom, but Mr. Touch is only a third of the way down. Bishop backs away before they can see him, and goes to the next alley over, entering the sewers from there.
Bishop slides down the ladder quickly, and peeks around the corner. The two men are walking down the halls by the water's edge. Bishop continues to tail them, staying at a safe distance as they look around for evidence of Mikey or his family. Bishop spends the time following them wondering what kinds of experiments they would perform on Mikey's brothers if they could get their hands on them. What kinds on horrors they would put Mikey through again. What they'll do to Bishop if they discover his treachery...
After several minutes, they come to the last tracked location of Mikey -- the lair.
Bishop watches as the men leave their tools and tech outside the electric barrier and step through the invisible fence. Mr. Go takes a deep breath before zooming away.
Yeah, so he's quick. Saw that one coming.
Mr. Touch waits for his partner, tapping his foot against the stone floor impatiently. Mr. Go comes back out a second later, readjusting his suit and tie which had gotten windblown.
"It's all clear. The place is totally empty."
The two men walk inside, forced to leave their weapons behind the EMP barrier so they don't get fried.
Bishop gets an idea...
He quietly creeps up -- leaving his own bag of gadgets behind -- and places the weapons on the inside of the EMP barrier. One by one, each device flickers with sparks before going kaput. Once his task is complete, he quickly rushes back to his hiding spot and waits for the mercs' return.
After about twenty minutes, the two walk out.
"...they packed what they could and ran. The muties could be anywhere by now!"
"You think they knew we were coming?" Mr. Go wonders aloud.
"Probably. That computer room looked pretty high tech."
"But that doesn't explain how they managed to get out so quickly. Chaplin only just had us come in today, and there's been no chatter on the EPF net about our arrival."
"So, whaddya thinkin'?" Mr. Touch asks.
"I suspect that the Earth Protection Force might not be as 'protected' as they think. There must be a mole."
Bishop's breath gets caught in his throat. He can't let them find him out!
Yet another reason he has to stop them.
"I bet they'll pay us extra if we can find the traitor," Mr. Touch chuckles.
"But in the meantime, let's find that mutie. Remember what we're actually being paid for," Mr. Go reminds him.
"Well, can you track him from here?"
"What do you take me for, an amateur? Of course I can. Grab the gear and we'll head out."
Mr. Touch gathers up all the supplies, and the two walk away. Bishop gives chase.
Mr. Go leads them down the tunnels until they reach a wrecked cave-in. Mr. Touch is kind enough to clear the way for them, revealing what Bishop can only assume was Mikey's previous home before something terrible happened. Claw marks and long gashes across the painted walls prove his theory.
A large, gaping hole resides in the floor, tunneling down to a secret hidden world. Bishop's mouth drops in shock.
"...What'chya wanna bet he's down there?" Mr. Go asks with a snicker.
"What even is it, one of them secret societies?"
"Who cares, as long as we find what we're looking for!"
The two men jump down into the hole. Bishop watches them descend.
....Maybe he'll look for stairs.
.
.
.
It takes a few hours, but Bishop finally makes his way down safely. He finds the two mercenaries wandering the streets of this underground city, checking everyone and everywhere for Mikey.
Bishop is in awe of how many mutants there are down here! It's crazy! And Timothy offered to pay extra for any they brought back...
This whole community could be in danger!
Fortunately, the two men are focused on looking for Mikey. That's what they're really being paid for. Dissatisfied by the masses in the street square, the two leave towards a series of larger buildings in the distance.
He stays just out of sight of the Mr. Touch and Mr. Go as he goes after them. As he tails them, Bishop tries to stay focused on the two villains rather than get distracted by this otherworldly society. He feels so out of place surrounded by these monsters, mythical beasts, and magical creatures. People that resemble animals or aliens or dragons or some mix between the three walk around and watch him like he's the freak.
Maybe he is, down here... Huh.
Well, that's some existential identity crisis he'll have to go through later.
Mr. Touch and Mr. Go arrive at a building with a strange rainbow aurora borealis surrounding the area behind it. Mr. Go surveys the area with super speed before coming back and nodding to Mr. Touch.
"He's here."
"Positive?" Mr. Touch asks.
"Gotta be. That other mutie turtle Dr. Timothy showed us is here, so he must be, too."
Other turtle mutant... What did that kid call him... Leo? Leo! Wait, so they are here? Then where's Mikey?
"Do we get the extra mutants first or what?"
"No, he's busy with a bigger freak right now."
"I can take 'em both," Mr. Touch chuckles. "It'd be like bending a couple o' twigs..."
"Fine, but be discreet about it. Here, use one of the gadgets that lab nerd gave us -- Wait, what the --?!"
The two men try to activate what looks like a gas bomb, but nothing happens.
"This thing's defective! All this junk is defective!" Mr. Go growls.
"I can still take 'em both, you know that," Mr. Touch says, cracking his knuckles.
"It's almost like this guy wants to fight," Bishop thinks aloud. "What a charmer..."
"And where are we supposed to keep them once we capture them? You gotta think!" Mr. Go scolds. "Besides, they are also superpowered! One of them can do portals, and that second one I saw was almost as big as you! My guess is he has enhanced strength, too... And even if we did overpower them, they're out in the middle of everything, everyone can see us! And we have no real sighting of that Mikey mutant. Let's play it cool for now and get them later. AFTER we find Mikey."
Mr. Touch groans loudly.
"Fine. But I want that extra pay."
"And we'll get it, don't worry. By the end of the day, our biggest worry is going to be finding fatter wallets!" Mr. Go snickers. "Now let's find that freak show..."
Bishop swallows nervously. He hasn't met Mikey's brothers yet, not officially. But if they're anything like that human kid, then they would assume that he's a villain because he works for the EPF.
Just more people he has to avoid...
John Bishop runs after the two mercenaries before stopping in his tracks and awing at the strange area around him. A large opening surrounded by rainbow mist reveals a tropical paradise and a beach.
Huh. Okay. Not what he was expecting, but... yeah. Beach. Why not?
Bishop wishes he'd brought some shorts or something to help with the heat of the tropics, but sighs in resignation as he runs after the two men...
.
.
.
Casey is tanning on the beach chair just outside of the portal. He takes in a deep breath and heaves a relaxed sigh...
He's never been on vacation before.
Heck, he's pretty sure he's never relaxed before!
It's a new experience, and he's not totally convinced he's got the knack of it yet, but he's learning. Splinter has been giving him pointers.
Casey smiles at the warmth of the sun on his skin. It's so hot, he's abandoned his cloak and armour and jumpsuit in favour of a pair of Donnie's board shorts and a t-shirt. He feels a little exposed, but he's getting used to it.
He wonders if Sensei would have been sunning with him if he had made it. And Donatello would have loved the sun on his soft shell. Master Michelangelo would probably be building sandcastles or drawing images in the sand. He's not sure what Raphael would be doing, but he assumes that he'd be enjoy the safety and wonder and happiness with his brothers...
Casey sighs. He wishes Sensei could have at least enjoyed one day in the sun again... He hates that he can enjoy this while his whole family was left to die in the apocalypse. It isn't fair, it doesn't seem right.
Aaaaaaaand Casey just ruined the relaxation. Dang it. As mentioned before, he's not the best at this.
CJ sits up and sighs angrily. Why can't he just move on? Let go? It's what Leo wants. He can't talk about his life with anyone here, so he might as well just leave it behind and start fresh! Why can't... he...
Huh?
CJ notices two strangely disproportionate men sneaking around the hotel. They're pretty well hidden, but after a lifetime in a warzone where one wrong step could literally kill you, Casey Jones Jr. has become something of an expert at spotting hidden danger or people sneaking around.
He wonders what these two creeps are up to...
Three. Three creeps. There's a third guy following them... Wait, isn't that Agent Bishop?!
What is going on?? Are they looking for Mikey?
That has to be the reason. But who are those two guys? And why didn't Bishop come with them? Is he spying on them?
Well, he's not letting him do this alone! Casey may not be an expert on vacations, but he knows a secret mission when he sees one. He's coming along!
Casey grabs his grappling hook gloves and follows after them.
.
.
.
Bishop watches as the two men slither about, staying behind shrubbery and beach umbrellas that decorate the lot. They double check to make sure they don't draw any attention to themselves, then slink around the corner of the portal and vanish behind it's barrier. He tiptoes up to it and peers around the corner. Mr. Go is zooming across the beachside as Mr. Touch tries to use the fried tech again.
"What are you doing here?" a voice whispers behind him.
Bishop swings around and almost suckerpunches the kid behind him.
Fortunately, the teenager has good reflexes and ducks ahead of his punch, grabbing Bishop's arm and stopping him mid-punch.
"Kid?!" Bishop whisper-shouts. "What are -- where did -- Nevermind. Go away, before they see you --"
"But what are you doing here?" he whispers back. "My family's on vacation!"
"Is that really wise?" Bishop questions. "I did tell you what the EPF and TCRI were up to."
"Well, we're laying low. Like you said."
"At a resort?"
"Hey, it's not like the EPF knew about this place before!"
Bishop sighs.
"Look kid, I'd love to catch up and debate on whether a tropical getaway counts as 'laying low' and stuff, but I'm tailing these two bounty hunters --"
"Bounty hunters? Are they after Mikey?" the teenager asks.
"What do you think?" Bishop growls in response.
He turns back to watch the two men. Mr. Go skids to a halt after searching the area and pours sand out of his shoes as he complains to Mr. Touch about the conditions. Mr. Touch complains about the faulty tech they were given. They both end up arguing.
"Where is Mikey, anyways?" Bishop asks.
"Dunno," the teen replies. "He went out into the jungle to explore."
"You really think letting a kid go alone in the jungle is a good idea?"
The teen stares at him deadpan before raising an eyebrow.
"You have seen Mikey, right?"
"Fair enough," Bishop groans. "Look, I'm gonna go after them, you --"
"I'm coming with you!" he interrupts.
"Look kid --"
"My name is Casey."
"Look, Casey, I'm sure you're a cool kid with a good head on your shoulders, but this is a stealth mission. And this mission is already tough enough without having to worry about keeping you safe as well. It will go better if I'm alone --"
"Have you ever practiced guerilla warfare in a jungle before?" Casey challenges. "Or fought against superpowered individuals? Have you ever had to build a water purification device from scratch so you can drink your own bodily fluids while trekking across dangerous, monster-infested terrains??"
"Have you?" Bishop challenges back.
"You have no idea what I grew up in," Casey responds low. "Now let's go. Mikey should be deep in the jungle by this point, so we better hurry if we want some extra time to lay a few traps..."
Bishop tries to fight back, but the kid has already zip-lined into the brushes several meters away. Casey turns back and calls out to him.
"You coming or what?"
Bishop groans. He really shouldn't have yelled like that... Oh well. This'll be interesting.
.
.
.
Casey makes his way through the bushes and fauna, Bishop following close behind.
"Kid! Hey, kid, wait up!"
"Do you want me to slow down, or shouldn't you hurry up?" Casey shouts back.
Bishop grumbles under his breath as he runs up to the teenager.
"Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but --"
"And I appreciate what you're doing too, Commander Bishop -- uh, Agent Bishop. But this is my family we're talking about! And I'm not going to just sit back and act like I don't know what I'm doing when I do. I know you think I'm just a kid, but I've literally been training my entire life for situations like this. To be honest, this is a lot more mild than what I'm used to dealing with."
"...Where exactly did you say you grew up, again?" Bishop asks.
"Actually, not far from here," Casey chuckles. "But that's another story... So, looking at these tracks, Mikey made it to the center of the island somewhere around two hours ago."
Bishop's eyes widen behind his thick glasses.
"How can you tell?"
"Math, mostly," he says with a shrug. "You measure the size of his feet and the distance between each footprint and calculate the speed from there."
"But two hours ago?"
"I made an estimate based on when I saw him last and compounded with the fact that these plants he crushed underfoot show clear signs of recent decay --"
"Geez kid, you're like a walking science study!" Bishop sighs as he walks ahead and follows the trail as he reaches into his satchel.
"You can thank my Uncle 'Tello for that," Casey smiles. "What are you doing?"
"Honeycutt gave me this sonar tracker," Bishop explains. "I wanted to wait on using it until we were in a more secluded area."
Casey looks around at the jungle they're traipsing through.
"...I'd say this works!"
"I'd say so too," Bishop chuckles as he activates the device and scans the area around them. "Where did this jungle even come from, anyways?"
"It's a portal. It leads from the back lot of the hotel to a random undiscovered island."
"So, we're not actually in the United States anymore?" Bishop asks, raising an eyebrow. "Interesting. How does it work?"
"There's a device by the portal that can change the location if needed, for storms and stuff. But mostly it runs on magic energy, if I understand it right."
Bishop nods, pretending that it makes perfect sense. Magic, portals, underground monster hotels. Sure. Why not.
He taps a few buttons on the sonar, and several dots appear on the screen. Two in the center, two to the far left, and one straight ahead.
"Hey, would ya look at that! It really works!"
"So, those two are the bounty hunters," Casey says, peering over Bishop's arm to look at the device. "And up ahead is Mikey!"
"I guess your tracking skills really are on point," Bishop compliments. "Nice work, kid."
Casey smiles as he leads the way to Mikey.
"So, what do we do about those two guys searching for Mikey?"
"I have some other toys the Doc leant me," Bisop states, reaching into his pouch. "These should work well enough against them... though, they haven't been tested yet."
"Well, as my Sensei used to say, 'No time like the present!'"
"Aaaaaalright then, we'll find where they are and set up a few traps to drive them away."
The duo travel in the direction of the two mercenaries, following the sonar tracker. After half an hour of hiking, they finally find them. Mr. Touch is demolishing the trees as he looks around angrily for their mark. Mr. Go is watching from behind him.
"Are you done with your little tantrum yet?" he hisses.
"I'm doing all the work here, in case you haven't noticed!" Touch roars back. "It's a deserted island! He could be anywhere! And also in case you haven't noticed, all our tech is busted up!"
"Well, it shouldn't be as big of a problem as you're making it," Mr. Go groans. "After all, this is us we're talking about. It can't be that difficult!"
"Well, we've never worked in the fricken jungle before!"
"Pssh, as if that should stop us..."
The two men argue a bit about where to go and what to do. Bishop takes Casey back a step to discuss their own plans.
"So, kid... didn't you say something about guerilla warfare?"
Casey Jr. smiles deviously.
Bishop and Casey quickly set up a series of traps, digging large holes and cover them with debris and plants. Casey creates a snare trap and Bishop makes a tripwire. Soon enough, their plan is complete.
"Okay Casey," Bishop says as he takes his jacket off, the heat starting to get to him. "Here's the plan: your tracking skills are better than mine, so you find Mikey and get him out of here while I take care of the meathead and the beanpole."
"Wait, are you sure?" Casey asks.
"Not really. But I don't want you or Mikey to get hurt --"
CJ groans loudly.
"Dude, I already told you --"
Bishop quickly shushes him.
"I don't want you near the fight, you could get hurt."
"I know, I know; you think I'm just a kid and I can't defend myself, but I'm pretty sure I already proved how I can --"
"You did prove yourself," Bishop interrupts him. "But that doesn't change the fact that I don't want you getting hurt or getting involved in this anymore than you already are."
The agent sighs. He takes his glasses off to show Casey how serious he is as he tries to explain.
"...Look..... Mikey was designed to be a living weapon for the EPF. He was given the DNA of several predators, violent species, and compliant genes from species that worked in groups or families so he would be sure to follow orders. He was trained day in and day out to kill, fight, and problem solve. Do you think that's the life he wanted?"
Casey freezes, eyes wide.
"Or do you think he deserves a chance to just be a kid?"
CJ looks away sadly. He can tell where this is going. Bishop takes a breath before he continues.
"Listen kid, I have no doubt that you could keep him safe all on your own, but both you and Mikey are just kids. That doesn't mean you can't do incredible things and save the world, but it means that you shouldn't have to. For now, that's my responsibility as the adult. I think you kids have been through more than enough, and it's time you get back to being kids. Or am I wrong?"
Casey sighs again.
"...Okay, point taken. Fine. I'll get Mikey to safety and warn the others... You take care of the two bounty hunters."
Bishop nods with a smile. He watches as Casey darts off into the forest to get Mikey. He turns back and treks towards the two villains.
.
.
.
Casey runs into the jungle, backtracking until he finds sight of Mikey's trail again. He follows, using his grappling hook like a rope swing, going from tree to tree to tree...
An old recollection of his Sensei calling him 'Tarzan' comes to mind. He smiles at the memory.
After ten to fifteen minutes, Casey finally catches up to Mikey, sitting in a tree as he munches on some wild mangoes he happened to find.
"Mikey! Mikey, hey!" CJ calls out.
Mikey looks down and smiles at him, mouth full to the brim of delicious ripe fruit. He waves.
"Hiiiiiii!" he calls out, though it's a barely intelligible, muffled slur of sounds.
"Hi," CJ calls back, climbing up quickly. "Hey, so not to alarm you or anything, but we gotta get outta here. Like now."
Mikey swallows loudly and tilts his head in curiosity.
"Why?"
"Just, um..."
Casey looks at Mikey.
He's not the warrior he would be in the future. He's not a stone-cold master of magic who occasionally liked to goof off when he wasn't being all mystical and mysterious. He's not the last brother left standing for Casey's Sensei, the last reminder of hope and love. He's not forced to stay positive and optimistic, even when the entire resistance has been laid to waste and he has to sacrifice his own life in order to save them. To save him.
He isn't 'Master Michelangelo'.
He's Mikey.
And Bishop is right. Mikey's just a kid.
A kid who shouldn't have to worry about looking over his shoulder constantly, wondering if someone is coming after him or if he's safe, or his family is safe. He's a kid who should be running across the water and having splash wars with his brothers, should be sunbathing on the beach with his father, should be sitting in a tree eating fruit and enjoying life like it was meant to be enjoyed.
"...Uuuuummm, y-your brothers wanted you to come back to the resort! They, uh... didn't know where you'd gotten to! They got kinda worried."
"Brothers worried for me?" Mikey asks with concern.
"Yeah! So, we gotta go let them know you're okay!"
"Oh, okay!" Mikey says with a nod. "Mikey understand. Let's go!"
Casey follows Mikey down the tree --just a tad bit slower than him, though.
"Race you back?" Mikey asks with a smile, already crouched and ready to run.
CJ smiles.
"You're on!"
The two run, Casey using his grappling hooks to his advantage as Mikey books it through the jungle. He hopes they don't attract the wrong kind of attention, but their speed should be helpful... He wonders if Bishop is finished with his job yet.
.
.
.
Bishop watches from behind a tree, waiting a few minutes to give Casey time to find Mikey. Just a little longer...
The two men start walking. Bishop checks the sonar and sees they're walking towards Mikey's direction. He has to act now.
He grabs a noisemaker and pulls the pin before throwing it at the two. It lands in front of Mr. Touch, who leans down and blinks at it.
"...What the hey?"
"What is it?" Mr. Go asks, stepping around him.
"Looks like a toy or --"
A loud, ear-piercing screeeeeeeeeeeeech sounds off, shattering the air around them and causing a soundwave to blast around them, knocking them all to the ground. Bishop grips his own ears and yells in pain, though the cries are lost in the deafening blast. He gets up and starts running, looking back to see Mr. Touch drop the device and clutch his bleeding ears. Mr. Go stumbles backwards before running away as fast as he can. Bishop watches as Mr. Touch slams his foot down onto the orb, crushing it instantly and silencing it. Bishop's ears are ringing as he runs. Mr. Touch shakes his head around before he sees Bishop running and gives chase.
"HEY, GET BACK HERE!!"
"WHAT??" Bishop yells back, ears still ringing.
Mr. Touch bellows as he runs after him, following the agent to his set traps. The meathead gets closer... closer..... he reaches out to grab his shirt collar...
Mr. Touch's feet drag over a tripwire, activating the net-launcher. The wiry snare wraps around him and causes him to faceplant. Bishop nearly pauses to cheer at the trap's success before Mr. Touch shreds the net to pieces, simply by flexing his arm muscles. Bishop keeps running.
He jumps over one of the traps he set and watches as Mr. Touch yipes and falls down into the freshly-dug ditch. Bishop carefully pulls out the 'jelly-gun' and aims.
"Sorry in advance, I really hope that this isn't permanent..."
Bishop is thrown off his feet when something slams into him. He groans as he picks himself back up.
"And just what do you think you're doing?" Mr. Go asks snidely as he leans down.
"...My job, nothing personal," Bishop responds quickly, swinging his foot around to trip up Mr. Go.
But he's gone before Bishop can even get his foot up.
He does a quick spin before looking around in shock, trying to find where Mr. Go went --
Bishop is kicked in the gut as the speedster rams into his chest and dashes away unseen. Bishop gasps for air and clutches his stomach as he slowly gets to his knees. He's dropped the jelly-gun! He scrambles as he searches for it. He drags his fingers across the ground, looking for the futuristic weapon on the tall grass and weeds... he notices a vibrating sensation from the ground, slowly getting stronger.
Bishop jumps out of the way before Mr. Go can knock into him again.
He gets an idea.
Bishop places himself into position and waits. He can feel the ground vibrate under Mr. Go's stampeding feet. Wait for it... wait for it...
He can see a blur coming at him. Bishop gets ready...
Mr. Go runs at him. Bishop reaches into the satchel and pulls out the other jelly gun, blasting a great mess of red goop at the ground. Mr. Go runs through it with great speed, his shoes getting caught in the ooze. He trips through it, falling onto his hands as the jelly hardens quickly.
"Hey! What's going on here?! What is this gunk??"
Bishop heaves a sigh of relief. It's short lived.
"Oh, you think you're clever, huh?" Mr. Go laughs haughtily. "Well, we'll just see about that!"
Mr. Go's body vibrates so quickly that he almost becomes invisible. The quick-hardening goop starts to crack, and he's free. The speedster suddenly blurs past Bishop, unable to stop. He gets another interesting idea...
Bishop whistles at him.
"Hey, knockoff of the Flash! You missed me!" he taunts.
Mr. Go runs back at him, a blur as he comes back for round 2. Bishop pulls a special gun out and points it at the mercenary. Mr. Go immediately runs in a different direction, which Bishop expected. He aims again. Mr. Go runs in another direction. Bishop aims one more time, and of course, Mr. Go goes in a new direction. Bishop smiles. He's too close to change course, and he was worried about the wrong kind of redirection. He's right where Bishop wants him.
Just as Mr. Go is about to run into him, Bishop aims the gun above his head and fires. A long cable cord shoots out from the weapon and snags onto a branch high above him. Bishop is pulled away, and Mr. Go runs straight underneath him and over the hidden tripwire. Mr. Go sees the trap too late and is snagged, a rope wraps around his ankles and pulls him up into the air.
Mr. Go's flails upside down, sputtering and yelling protests. The jelly-gun drops from his jacket pocket. He stole it when he ran past him! Bishop jumps down from his place amongst the branches and grabs at the weapon, trying not to pull the trigger until he can actually hold it steady.
"Y-you meddling inferior!" Mr. Go screams. "You ridiculous turncoat! You--"
"Please, please, save all your compliments until the show is over," Bishop says with a laugh, holding his ribs. "You had a pretty good run, not gonna lie."
Bishop shudders.
"Ugh, that pun was terrible. Is this what I've become? A guy with pad jokes and witty one-liners? I thought I was better than that..."
"Hurry up and get me down from here!" Mr. Go snaps.
"What makes you think I'd actually let you down?" Bishop questions.
"He wasn't talking to you, punk," Mr. Touch growls from behind him.
Bishop manages to duck just before Mr. Touch can break his skull open with his fists.
He yipes as he rolls to the side, dodging another blow and careful to avoid the traps he's set up. Mr. Touch is not so careful. His feet crack against the tripwires and set off the snares and springtraps, though none of them have any effect on the giant muscle man.
"Now would probably be a good time for you to run, little man," Mr. Touch chuckles with a low voice.
"I might just take you your advice on that," Bishop heaves. "But first --"
He points the jelly-gun at the giant man, who raises a fist to pound Bishop flat. The gun fires, a green light beams on Mr. Touch's fist and forearm. They go numb and limp, falling flat and flabby against his side. Mr. Touch roars angrily.
"What did ya do to me?!" he screams, flinging his other fist at Bishop.
The agent dodges it, the ground beside him cracking and splitting from the brute force used. Mr. Touch roars again and swings his floppy arm at Bishop. Despite the lack of bones, the strength is still there and Bishop is flung several meters back before rolling across the ground and hitting a tree.
Bishop gasps for air as the wind is knocked out of him. He struggles to lift himself up, coughing and hacking as his back cracks with each movement.
He looks up in time to see Mr. Touch yank the rope holding Mr. Go, setting him free. Bishop has to act fast... Casey is counting on him. Honeycutt is relying on him. That whole society under New York is in danger if these mercs get out. Mikey deserves better.
Bishop grabs one of the noisemakers and pulls the pin. Mr. Go lunges forwards. Bishop throws the device at him. He realizes in time what it is and runs in the opposite direction. The noisemaker grenade goes off, and another shockwave of sound takes out everything above four feet. Bishop ducks for cover as he covers his ears. Mr. Go is blown away by the shockwave, soaring straight into Mr. Touch.
Bishop takes the jelly-gun and aims once again. He shoots at Mr. Go's legs. Mr. Go falls. He shoots again at Mr. Touch's other arm. It becomes wobbly and liquified. But Bishop can't stay here for much longer. He limps away, regaining a little speed with every excruciating step.
He's not sure exactly how long the jelly-gun effects will last. But he'd rather not find out.
After running several meters away, he can hear the device deactivate. Touch probably destroyed it.
Bishop pulls out the sonar device and checks it. It was damaged in the fight. The screen is cracked, and it glitches every few seconds, but from what he can tell Mikey and Casey made it back to the resort. Bishop just has to find his way out of the jungle...
He keeps running, though there's a pain in his side and his head is still buzzing. He hears something crashing behind him.
Mr. Touch and Mr. Go are following close behind.
Already?!
He looks back and sees Mr. Touch carrying Mr. Go over his shoulders. They aren't as fast as he is, but with his injuries he'll never outrun them...
But he has to try. Bishop pulls out the jelly-gun and fires, hoping to temporarily liquify more of the two mercenaries.
The gun squirts out a train of goop behind him. Wrong gun! But at least it serves its purpose; Mr. Touch trips and falls face-first into the slime, which hardens overtop of him. He shouts and screams, flapping his jelly arms around as he tries to get himself free.
Bishop keeps running.
.
.
.
Leo is laying out on the beach chair by the hotel. He loves the ingenuity of this place. If you get the right angle, you can have all the warmth and brightness of the sun shining on you without the actual sun getting in your eyes. At first, he was a bit hesitant to trust this place (after the events of that other resort he has sworn never to speak of again). But this place is a certified heaven!
Leonardo exhales with utter satisfaction. It's been a pretty rough couple of days... he needs this.
Unfortunately, Leo is pulled out of his relaxation mode when a weight is suddenly and mercilessly slammed onto him. He gasps, eyes nearly popping out of his head as Mikey jumps up into his lap at top speed.
"I win!" Mikey cheers.
Casey jogs up behind with and laughs, somewhat out of breath.
"You certainly did," he gasps, panting and sweating. "Phew! That was fast, Mikey..."
"What the -- *wheeze* -- what the heck is -- *wheeze* -- happening?!" Leo hacks, coughing loudly as Mikey sits proudly on his chest.
"Mikey won race!"
"Great. I'm so very proud of you. My ribs will never be the same again."
"Is Leo not worried anymore?" Mikey asks, leaning close to inspect his face and sniff him.
"Worried? Like, about my lungs collapsing, maybe?"
"Oh, sorry," Mikey chuckles nervously as he gently climbs off of him.
"It's fine, I'm getting used to it by now," Leo groans, his body re-inflating with air. "I mean, this is like the third or fourth time this has happened..."
"But Mikey is here! So no more worries," his little brother says with a smile.
"Uh, yeah," Leo answers with a nod. "No one is worried anymore. Whatever that means."
"Oh, uhhhhh Leo, you and I need to have a quick talk about.... something," Casey says.
Leo gets the hint immediately, despite the lack of mind meld.
"Hey Mikey, why don't you go find Donnie and help him build his sandcastles? He indubitably said something about probably needing your help and creative expertise. He said he was going to be getting supplies at the Hotel front desk..."
Mikey nods with a smile and a chirping laugh as he runs off to find Dee. Leon waits until he's out of sight before turning to CJ.
"Okay, so what's up?"
"So... no need to panic or freak out or anything, buuuuuuut there may or may not be a few bounty hunters searching for Mikey right now..."
"WHAT?!" Leo shouts, grabbing Casey by the shoulders and shaking him. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, BOUNTY HUNTERS?!"
"I-I said no n-n-need to pa-a-a-nic!" Casey yells back, his voice wobbling as he's rocked back and forth. "Co-ou-uld you ple-e-e-ea-se st-o-o-p sha-a-k-i-i-ing me-e-e-e??"
"What bounty hunters are looking for Mikey? Where are they?" Leo demands.
"Oh don't worry, they're probably nowhere near here!"
"CLOSE THE PORTAL!"
Leo and CJ both look back at the beach's serene and peaceful shores to see Agent John Bishop, running out of the jungle as fast as he can. Soon enough, a man the size of a baby elephant carrying another man resembling an overcooked noodle with a ratstache barrel out of the bushes and run after him.
"CASEY, CLOSE THE PORTAL!" Bishop yells at the top of his lungs as he rushes for the hotel. "CLOSE THE PORTAL, NOW! CLOSE IT!"
Casey yells in fright and drags Leo to the box by the rainbow's edge.
"How do we close it?!" Casey demands, examining the device.
"How should I kow?!" Leo yells back.
"Uh, you deal in portals all the time?!"
"That's my ninpo, I don't actually know how they work! I don't understand magic or mystics or --"
"WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING?!" Bishop shouts. "HURRY!!"
"Do you know what to do or not?!" Casey shouts.
"NO! How would I know what to do?! Draxum would probably, but I have no idea where he is --"
"Well, try something! Anything! Maybe you can do something with your ninpo?"
"Fine! Get the device open!"
Casey jimmies the box's lid open and starts messing with the wires and other pieces inside before uncovering the mystic power source, an aurora flooding the air around him.
Leo runs to his beach chair and grabs his swords, throwing one at the machine and vanishing for a second before reappearing besides CJ. Leo stabs one of the katanas into the device and starts swinging it around in the rainbow light that spills.
Leon's markings start glowing, and the aurora turns blue.
"Don't change it yet, Bishop is still out there!" Casey pleads, running to watch the portal.
"ERRGH, MAKE UP YOUR MINDS!" Leo yells angrily, straining to keep the portal from glitching as the overwhelming power starts to spark across his arms. "Ow! Hurry up!"
Casey stops just outside of the portal and calls out to Bishop.
"Run!"
"WHAT DO YOU THINK I'M DOING?!"
"They're catching up!"
Bishop grabs the last noisemaker grenade, pulls the pin, and throws it back at the two mercenaries. It smacks right into Mr. Touch's face, getting lodged in his mouth before he screams and spits it out, jumping out of the way before a loud screeching shockwave sends them all flying.
Bishop goes tumbling through the portal before faceplanting onto the ground beside Casey. The shockwave knocks Leo down, the sword crashing against the device and closing the portal just as the two mercenaries try to reach out for it.
The beach scene swipes away, a new view of a new island taking it's place.
Bishop pants and heaves on the ground by CJ, looking over his shoulder shakily before his arms give out and he rolls onto his back.
"...That was the worst. I think my back is now in the shape of the letter 'S'. Thanks, kid..."
"Did... did we just banish two dudes to live alone on a lost tropical island in the middle of nowhere?" Casey whispers.
"Looks that way. But I'm sure they'll be fine..."
"So, you must be Agent Bishop, huh?" Leo asks skeptically, leaning over the young man.
"What's left of him," Bishop chuckles. "Ow, my body... and you're Leo, correct?"
"That is classified information," the slider growls, crossing his arms.
"Nice to meet you," Bishop groans as he slowly sits up and gets to his feet.
"Wish I could say the same."
Casey smacks Leo's arm.
"What??" Leo asks incredulously. "Look dude, I know you trust him, but I don't know him, and he works for the people that tortured Mikey. I'm sorry, but he hasn't exactly earned my trust just yet."
"I get it," Bishop responds, cracking his back in pain. "I really do. And for the record, I don't work for the EPF anymore. What they're doing is wrong, in every sense, and it needs to end. I'm working to make things right. And hopefully, this --" he gestures to the new portal "-- helps to prove it?"
Leo sighs and rolls his eyes.
"Maybe. We'll see."
"Fair enough, I guess. Casey," Bishop turns to the human teen and claps him on the shoulder. "Nice work. Don't be a stranger. You still have my number, as well as Honeycutt's. If you ever need anything, let me know."
Casey smiles proudly and nods.
"Well, I think that might be everything, so I should get going..."
"Here, let me help you with that!" Leo says with a snarky smile, his sword slashing the air and creating a portal beneath Agent Bishop, causing him to fall through.
He lands in a pile of trash bags on the city streets of NYC with a soft yelp followed by disorientation. The confusion quickly dissipates once he gets his bearings, and he cleans himself off before heading to the EPF building.
He makes his way into the compound somehow without drawing attention, and quietly goes back up to Honeycutt's office. He knocks this time rather than bust in like earlier this morning.
"Coming!" the professor calls out before answering the door. "Oh! John! You're back... are you alright?"
Bishop hands the jelly-gun and cracked sonar device to the old man.
"...Tech works great, doc..... But, uh... I broke the tracker. A-and the noisemakers, those are gone too."
Honeycutt looks Bishop over before giving an exasperated sigh.
"I don't care about the tracker or the tech. Get in here, you look like crap."
Bishop heaves a heavy sigh himself and relaxes. He tumbles onto the old man, who leads him into the lab to help take care of his injuries.
"Have you been to the hospital?" Honeycutt asks.
"No.... too risky."
"Your entire back is bruised."
"But nothing's broken, right?"
Honeycutt looks him over and nods.
"But I'm no doctor on the human condition," he reminds him. "I just know tech. John, you should really go to a hospital or ER or --"
"If I go to a doctor, then the EPF will hear about it. They'll ask questions. That's bad. So... just some painkillers and ointment for now will do, thanks."
Honeycutt rolls his eyes.
"...You need to be more careful, you know."
"Yeah, I know. But someone needs to do this job..."
Honeycutt grumbles angrily.
"Are you mad at me, doc?" Bishop asks, as the old man starts to bandage his ribs.
"No, no... I just... why can't you stay out of this whole business for a bit? Take a break?"
Bishop turns around and stares at him.
"...Are you worried? About me?"
"Well... yes. I'm a frail old man and a worrywart at heart, so of course I get anxious about secret missions and dangerous weapons and evil mercenaries! And, at the risk of sounding even more pathetic than I realize I already am, I don't exactly have... a lot of friends here..."
Bishop blinks.
"Oh."
"So yes, worry about you, John. I don't want to lose the only person I can trust in this place. I'm... I'm honestly scared. I'm a grown man and I'm scared. I should be considering retirement plans, but instead I wake up and wonder if this'll be the day I get drawn and quartered by my coworkers. Or worse, what will happen if you get drawn and quartered."
Bishop sighs.
"Okay. I'm sorry for worrying you. But this is important, and if I don't do it..."
"Then maybe someone else will," Honeycutt offers. "You aren't the only hero around, John!"
"No, maybe not. But I know who will have to step up for Mikey and his family, and it isn't fair to ask them to fight like that. They're just kids, Doc. And I need to make things right. For all of my mistakes."
Prof. Honeycutt sighs.
"...You're right. But... what if something happens to you?"
Bishop shrugs.
"I guess I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."
"Let's hope that never happens..." Honeycutt mutters to himself as he helps to treat the injuries.
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miraclesabound · 1 year
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Spoiler-Heavy Review/Thoughts on "The Last Voyage of the Demeter"
The crowd at the theater grew to about 15, so still pretty quiet.
Short version is that I enjoyed this movie thoroughly, but it is truly gruesome. The entry will start below the cut with spoilery warnings, because even having read the book, there were some things that caught me off guard.
Warnings for this film include:
trafficking of a young woman as a blood bag/bride for Dracula
Use of racial slurs against both a Black and a Romani character
deaths of all animals on board, including livestock and a young boy's beloved dog - shown with full gore
death of three crew members by burning in the sun after vampiric possession, including the young boy (the captain's grandson)
One of those three choosing sunlight as their method of suicide rather than allowing themselves to fully turn into a beat.
In fact, no one dies peacefully - this version of Dracula is emphasized as truly beastly, relishing the fear of his victims.
I know we've all been rooting for the Captain (named Captain Elliot in this version), but the true protagonist is Mr. Clemens, played by Corey Hawkins. We never get his first name, but we learn that he's a Black English doctor making his way home from Bulgaria/Romania, and he offers his services to Captain Elliot when a previously hired hand refuses to touch anything marked with Dracula's symbol - the stamp of a black dragon.
Other characters include: Captain Elliot and his young grandson Toby, Anna, the young woman given to Dracula as a captive by her village, and the men of the crew, all of whom have sailed with Captain Elliot before.
Then of course, there's Dracula himself. I saw some reviews saying he's shown far too early in the movie - but it worked for me. We find out that Anna was locked in his coffin with him and was meant to sustain him for the whole voyage - so when we see Dracula, he's weak and wracked with hunger for losing his food supply when Clemens finds Anna and starts treating her. Since we see him like that early, there's room for him to grow to almost full power as he burns through the animals and then the crew.
I enjoyed just about every performance in the film, but Corey Hawkins (Clemens), Javier Botet (Dracula), and Woody Norman (Toby) were particular highlights. Clemens is your classic cynical scientist with a heart of gold, Dracula speaks less than you would expect but still has that taunting air, and Toby doesn't read as older than he's supposed to be.
As story beats go, I think I appreciated Anna's the most. I've said in my reread of Dracula that I wish modern adaptations did more with the people of Transylvania hating Dracula, and this version presented that in Anna's character. She's lived under Dracula's shadow as long as she can remember, even before her village elders handed her over, and once she's freed and recovered some of her strength, she's finally able to fight back. I'm a sucker for a character who knows they're doomed but still tries to do the right thing, and Anna is that in spades.
THE LIGHTING IN THIS MOVIE WAS ACTUALLY EFFECTIVE!!!! The daytime scenes were vibrant, and all the nights scenes are lit by an enormous full moon and several stars. It makes the shadow work less muddied than you might see in a more modern-style horror movie.
The movie ends with Clemens technically surviving, but still deeply traumatized and literally scarred - he and Anna scuttle the ship and jump overboard, but not until after Dracula has drunk enough from Anna to curse her and he's badly hurt Clemens' neck. Anna gives herself over to the sun so that Clemens can get to shore, and the closing scene is clearly a sequel hook as he hunts for Dracula in London - or perhaps the Count has already realized that Clemens is on his tail. This worked for me because the film stuck with Clemens. I kept expecting him to run into one of the core Dracula characters, and I'm not sure I would have liked that.
This is all a very long-winded way of saying that this was a film I truly enjoyed, and it is a LOVE LETTER to the book's thesis - the supernatural may have come out of hiding, but if we band together, evil may be halted - even for a little while.
Rating: 8.5/10
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evilminji · 1 year
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Okay, you know how City Spirits are a thing?
And Superheros both Die, Un-Die, Re-Die, Dimensionally Sorta Maybe Die But Then Don't, and also never Died in the first place? And probably do at least a portion of that in Medical? While ALSO hanging out, quantumly maybe Dead, maybe alive, in their Super Cool Clubhouse?
Which is ALSO exposed to space rays, the entirety of The Magic Club, weird alien Technology, aaaaand whatever they decide to store on it??
:T
I'm just SAYING...
For as long as dwellings Of Significance have existed, there have been house spirits. They are the IDEA of the house. The SIGNIFICANCE of it. What makes it HOME. The weight of the halls that turn into Halls. And The Watchtower? Is KNOWN to enough people, to have SIGNIFICANCE.
It's a HALL where Heros Live. A Place Of Safety. It GAURDS.
It is also inanimate. Steeped heavily in every sort of energy, be it magic or science, and multidimensional fuckery imaginable. But? Not SENTIENT. Yet.
Until of course... this new fangled Anti-Ghost Shield comes out. By the new and recently no-longer on the run (from the Goverment they're at war with) Dr.'s Fenton! Why were they are war? Don't worry about it!
They Won.
:)
Unrelated! Never threaten their kids. They WILL find you. Not a threat, just informing!
:) :)
The security guy they sent to the expo was from Gotham, unfortunately. So he found the couple to be completely normal. They? Should not have sent Thomas. He was hired BECAUSE his parents were Mad Scientists in the making. Batman was steering him away from a life of crime. Thomas could judge "normal" from "deeply unhinged" if it belly danced infront of him, in the seduction dance of a thousand, deep fried, mackerel.
It's his version of face blindness. Great with technology though! And the shield worked a treat. Even promised to be both ethical AND programmable! Not harming the ghosts it pushed out unless they try to force entry AND allowing them to program in exceptions. Allowing Heros such as Deadman to freely enter!
Is it a little janky looking? Yeah. But if it works, it works. They add it to the systems and flip it on.
One small and immediate problem. There is now a small knight shaped child in the engine room. She was NOT there a second ago. She has controlo of the ENTIRE Watchtower, claims to BE the Watchtower, and knows all their names. Knows a disturbing level of information about every employee on the Tower.
Oh and apparently "No one is leaving."
No one panic! Just unplug the... she has swallowed the ghost shielding unit into a wall. Slightly panic.
Panic lite.
Luckily, no one is willing to throw the first punch at what appears to be a small child. So the JLA Dark have a chance to literally run over.
They demand to know who's bright idea it was to add... "ectoplasm"? Was THAT the energy source? Oooh. Their departments probably in trouble. Later though, the hero's are trying to negotiate with a small child. Who is apparently a ghost.
It's not SAFE, she's insisting. Everyone has to stay HERE where she can protect them. From the nebulous threat of Bad Guys. They LEAVE and come back HURT. She is UPSET and everyone is going to STAY! Forever!
Not good.
Then Thomas pipes up, like the oblivious asshole he is, that he should PROBABLY call the engines makers. They did mention something a long these lines might happen.
WHAT.
You think, Thomas? Might be a good idea, maybe? Just a bit? YES FUCKING CALL THEM!
(All right, all right! No need to YELL! *ring ring* 'Ello? Maddie? Sorry to catch you at dinner-)
So now? There is a glowing college student, who was escorted here by a WEREWOLF, who just? Tore open reality? To some green, swirling hellscape? And popped through like "sup, sorry I'm late. Was in a council meeting!" And judging by the ficking CROWN and the various quietly panicking magic users, he probably didn't mean student council, and just?
Guess he's hear to talk to their newly sentient Tower.
Question! Asks Thomas, of the fucking Ghost King because of course he does, are they Dads now? Or if they already have kids, Dads AGAIN? Do they have to come up with a baby name?
.......oh dear lord, the Ghost King looks like he has to think about it.
What are we gonna tell our SPOUSES!? "Hey honey, guess what I got at work today! A NEW CHILD. They're a space station!"
@hdgnj @nerdpoe @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation
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heartfullofleeches · 2 years
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I need a 'tries really hard to be evil' scientist reader who works for a bunch of villains who know with their entire hearts that the scientist they hired is a total idiot but they love them so much they can't bring themselves to fire them, you can always catch them saying to each other " for someone who has a doctor title, they are quite an idiot" as they exchange videos of the reader being happy and jumping around bc they finally got their murder robot to work
(Couldn't really go with the whole "idiot" vibe - just a clumsy reader and their murderous employers)
You stumble into the front of the room, dropping important paperwork every other step and a remote soon after. Gaining your balance, you press the button on the remote that turns the projector on. Standing directly in front of the lens, you're blinding momentarily as its light shines in your eyes; quickly stepping out of the way. You clear your throat as you point to the machine on display.
"We'v finally completed production on our latest robot." You click another button. "As you can see through the use of these dummies, it is able to cut through the human body and most metals with ease. Most of the remaining information is in this folder, but due to some... unforeseen problems- I'm open to answering any questions."
"No, that will be all. Thank you, Y/n."
The room of stoic individuals praise you for your hard work with a round of applause. All except for one. Your excused shortly after, the villains left talking over the plans for the robot - however, their conversation seemed to solely center on you.
"I got a few pictures of them sleeping in the lab before the meeting. Poor thing needs to take better care of themself."
"They did better than last week - that's for sure. Would love to approve their vacation days, if they would just telling us where they were going."
"Has anyone gotten their new apartment bugged yet? They rejected the offer for that nice place nearby, so we don't have eyes on them currently."
"Excuse me..."
All heads turns towards the party in the room. A lacky who thought they had what it took to run with the heads of the group, only to find them fawning over some ditzy scientist.
"I don't mean to sound rude, but are they really our head scientist? The results are satisfactory, however it looks like they were born with two left feet. Maybe we should just let them be in charge of design.
The remainder of the group all look at each other; nodding in agreement on an unspoken decision.
"Moving on from that - we were just about to decide where to test the device first, but it seems we already have the perfect rat."
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nxrdamp · 1 year
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Miguel O'Hara x Fem! Assistant! Reader | Unmasked
TW: language, no use of y/n, some google translate Spanish because I do not speak Spanish.
Word Count: 2,228
| Your POV |
Miguel O'Hara.
I'd use only one word to describe a man like him.
Arrogant.
Extremely arrogant in fact, so arrogant he hired me. Why is that so arrogant, one might ask, well he's arrogant because his personal hobby is to make my life a living, breathing hell! Why is this? Only his big, arrogant, sadistic mind knows. How is he arrogant? Well...
"I thought I said no cream," Miguel said, his eyebrows furrowing for the 20th time today. It's 8:30 in the morning. He sighed and placed the coffee down on his desk hazardously as if everything doesn't have a price tag with a pretty penny attached to it. Miguel O'Hara, one of the leading scientists at Alchemax, what does he do? I don't really know to be honest, I tried to ask once but that made him even pissier, saying something along the lines of "the fate" of something and "confidential to civilians".
"That's what I ordered sir," I said, picking up the coffee cup that was almost tipped over due to his carelessness. God, can this day really test me anymore? It's only the beginning and I've already had to go back for coffee twice.
"I don't care what happened, make it work. I don't want cream and I don't want decaf, I just want plain, black coffee." Yeah, plain like your soul O'Hara. Whatever, this assistant gig pays extremely well since, shockingly, he can't seem to keep an assistant. I wonder why.
"Right away sir," I say, rolling my eyes as I threw away the second coffee cup. Poor coffee, never had the chance. Poor barista who made it, a waste of time. Ungrateful, O'Hara is, he's so stuck up being rich and all from his dumb job in his big stupid lab that he expects someone to just wipe his ass.
"Ah, you said that last time, look where we are." He tutted, sitting at his desk in his office. You heard me, his office, he has a personal lab and an office. What does this guy even do?!
"You have quite a humor." I sarcastically reply, which made him furrow his brows once more. He started to say something, probably along the lines of "I'm your boss" yada yada, before I shut the door to his office, walking back to the elevator to grab yet another coffee from the poor stand on the ground floor of the Alchemax building. The Alchemax building is huge, probably all designed for O'Hara since everyone just adores him here, but it's right next to this....odd building. It's about the same size as the Alchemax Center, they even own it, hell it's connected to our building, but it's off-limits to everyone. Ha, even O'Hara. I'm glad at least some things don't revolve around him.
"Hi again," I said to the barista while monologuing I arrived at the stand, "I need a plain black coffee, please, just please don't put anything in it."
"Um, okay," She said, with her signature snarky attitude. This barista always gets on my nerves. She always screws up Miguel's simple order multiple times a day. I think she has it out for me, honestly. I watch as she is about to pour cream into the cup, smirking like it's the funniest thing in the world.
"Hey." I said, making her jump a little, "I've been down here three times today, four yesterday, you know that I know that you know how to make a damn plain cup of coffee."
"Fine." She said, handing me the cup," free of charge if you don't tell my manager."
"Free of charge for a month, this happened all of last week too," I said, grabbing the cup from her.
"Ugh okay." She said, embarrassment rising to her cheeks as she sees other people in line watching the spectacle.
I give her a smile. before dropping a ten in the tip jar. What, I just haggled the poor teenager into giving me free coffee for a month, while she was being an asshole and I needed a win, she's still a kid. Well now I feel bad, but I don't think I'm going to feel as bad as I am when I walk through O'Hara's office doors.
"So, you learn how to order a plain coffee yet?" O'Hara snarled, his eyes glaring at me. God, this guy sucks. His reddish eyes are just asking to test him, begging even, he must be so dreadfully bored that he just wants me to stick it to him.
At this point, I'm too mentally exhausted to make a witty comeback and I defeatedly hand him his cup, sighing as I walk away. Honestly, I think this job might be too much. This is a calm day compared to last week, running back and forth for food, because everyone everywhere in this building screws up his order. This...is odd, because instead of doing paperwork, ha, paper, that's funny, thinking the word 'paper' makes me feel old, like I'm from the 2020s or something like that! But regardless, my job requirements when I got the job was mainly to fill out his busy work, but 99% of the time, I'm running his errands!! So weird now that I think about this, but anyways, it doesn't matter, at least I hope it doesn't.
| Miguel's POV |
I watch as my assistant leaves, seeing her defeated look as she walks away from my office to go to what I assume is the break room. Even if it isn't lunch, I don't care, I just need her away. I don't need a damn assistant. It's all for looks so these nosy scientists don't meddle in my business, so it looks like I'm still acting as a geneticist. Honestly, if there was one word I'd use to describe her, it's insufferable. So very insufferable.
I would say she messes up my orders on purpose just to spite me, but I know that isn't true. Why isn't that true? Well
"You're so rude Miguel." LYLA said, popping up beside him, "I know she can't know your real work, but that doesn't require you to pick on her!"
"LYLA, go away," I grunt, furrowing my brows once more, that must be the twenty-fifth time today.
"Well Miguel, you're needed in Spider-Society, Jess needs you to conduct that mission report." She said, tilting her little heart-shaped sunglasses.
"Do it yourself LYLA, I don't have time for this. If I keep leaving this building, those scientists are gonna keep harassing me on 'how do I get extra time off?' when I'm working much harder than they ever will, especially that Dr. Ohnn-"
"Save it for Spider-Therapist." LYLA said, "I'll see you in HQ". She disappeared before Miguel could argue further about excuses on why he shouldn't leave Alchemax today.
"Ugh!" He groans, furrowing his eyebrows yet again, it's really a wonder he hasn't developed wrinkles yet, well, more wrinkles than he already has.
| Your POV |
I walk back to Miguel's office, ready to stick it to him. Frankly, I don't care if he's my boss, he can't keep treating me like this. It's a toxic work environment and I'm this close to reporting him to HR.
As I walk closer and closer to his office, I see him speedily walking down the hallway, so, in a moment of stupidity I follow him. Staying silent as I see him walk further and further away from the department of whatever the hell he does, walking closer to the biology sector, by the spider section. Gross, I'd hate to work with a bunch of spiders all day, they give me the heebie-jeebies.
He keeps walking, past where anyone works, and by the......sky bridge. What the hell? He can't go in there! That building is strictly off limits for everyone, even arrogant bosses.
I watch as he turns the corner, looking around to see if anyone was watching him. I duck behind a potted plant, praying he doesn't see me, and unfortunately, he does.
"Are you going to explain why you're hiding behind a snake plant?" Miguel asks, walking over to peer down at me. He cocks his eyebrow, smirking as if he'd found a cat in an amusing position like those old internet videos from a hundred years ago.
"You gonna explain why you're walking into that creepy, off-limits, building?!" I said, popping up from behind the snake plant, pointing an accusing finger at him.
"That's none of your concern, why are you stalking me?"
"I'm not stalking you, I am observing your behavior for the greater good of Alchemax! That building doesn't belong to you, sir!" I said, crossing my arms. The nerve of this guy, he doesn't own all of Nueva York!
"¡Que maravilla! We have a little security guard here! Go back to your desk or I'm docking your pay." Miguel said, scowling. Actually, I don't think his face even changed into a scowl. I don't it's ever not a scowl.
"Ha, that's funny." I say, crossing my arms," You have no control over that! Alchemax controls my pay, not you douche-bag!"
"Watch it." He threatened before his watch device dinged, must be some top-of-the-line Mango device, he always gets new, expensive gadgets. He got the ePhone 80 the other day, it hasn't even come out yet!
"LYLA, I'm busy." He said, turning his back to me like he has something to hide on that dumb, orange holo-watch of his. It's rather bulky compared to other holo-watches. Strange
"Instead of hiding secrets how about we finish this conversation, Miguel?" I said walking around to get face-to-face with him. "What does that thing even do? It looks way too big just to be a holo-watch."
"None of your concern, go back to your desk." He said, trying to cover his watch device. Before he knew it, the picture of the lady from the holo watch started moving around. Damn, this guy and his state-of-the-art stuff.
"Hey there!" She said, moving around, "Im LYLA, an AI assistant. I handle all of the nitty-gritty files, documents, and about everything else for Miguel and the rest of Sp...Alchemax! LYLA stands for LYrate Lifeform Approximation. Pretty neat huh?"
"What the hell, Miguel!" I said, scowling, I guess I'm becoming like him. Ew, scratch that, never say that again. "You have a whole other assistant thing and you make me run around like a dog fetching your food, and magically everyone always gets it wrong!"
"Well that's because Miguel asks them to get it wrong" LYLA answered, leaving Miguel frozen for a split second.
"I'm gonna kill you, Miguel O'Hara. Why would you purposely ask people to make my orders for you wrong?! Is this some kind of sadistic game you get off to? Huh?!"
"No." He finally replied, turning LYLA off before she could make him look any worse, "It's to keep you busy and out of my files." Okay, maybe he didn't even need LYLA to make him look bad.
"Why?!" I asked, throwing my hands up in the air. Thank god this is by that other building where no one comes because we're causing quite a spectacle here.
"Because you can't know!" He barked, gritting his teeth. His teeth...does he have fangs? I squinted my eyes to get a better look, and yes, he has fangs, which are abnormally larger than just some sharp canines.
"Why can't I know?" I asked, my eyesight flicking from his teeth back up to his reddish...no red eyes. Why are they red? How are they red? What is even happening anymore?
"Because no one like you can know. You're not a part of the few who get to know and you better be glad you aren't. This isn't a little day job where you run around with screwed-up orders, this is life or death."
"Just tell me dammit," I said, "it's probably not even that serious. What is serious is if you don't 'fess up, I'm going to report the screwed-up food, the trespassing, the verbal assault, and many other things my wonderful boss has done to me to HR. Then, you'll be fired and no more sneaking around the mysterious building. Spill."
"You could never begin to understand..!"
"Miguel! What is it! Why can't I view your files? Why can't I do my job? Why are you going into that damn building?!"
Miguel taps a few buttons on his watch, sighing. He has to do this Whether he wants to or not, it isn't up to him anymore. He has to maintain access to that building. It's vitally important. Alchemax knows what that building is and why it's Miguel's. It's the only reason he can't sue them for making this monster. How else would a man on a worker's salary, even a good one, afford an entire skyscraper in Nueva York.
I watch as Miguel's entire body fizzles softly before being coated in something anyone who has ever watched the news knows. Anyone who isn't dead or living under a rock so huge they might as well be considered dead. The two red lines that represent eyes look back at me, halting any movement, even my words cannot stumble out of my mouth. For the first time ever it feels as if I didn't have a thought at all.
"I'm Spider-man."
{ Does anyone want a Part 2? }
Read this on A03 : here
Read this on Wattpad: here
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