#ok a super quick one - I didn’t even use my eraser I was just scribbling 😭

[myokk]

(Ominis is trying not to smile)

[lovelivingmydreams]

A story by heroes and villains

Book 2: secrets revealed Virgil Anker: trust and caution

Masterlist book 1

It's not easy to know who to trust and who to be wary off. But Virgil better learn soon.

When Virgil got back to the new house, he took a shower and sat himself on the couch in his pj’s. He was listening to his ‘winding down’ playlist. He was grinning to himself. Someone else was wearing his design. Sure he’d made Janus a shirt way back in freshmen year, but he barely wore it outside the house. This would be seen by tons of people. And it looked so good! He couldn’t wait till Monday. He could imagine Roman’s reaction. Would there be pictures in the papers? On the news? He just might buy a paper so he could keep a clipping to look back on later. Thinking about gushing over the costume with Roman at school made him think about seeing Janus again. J had skipped school after what happened in the hallway, leading to him having detention all of last week. He hadn’t even so much as looked at Virgil since. Not in a, “I am mad and ignoring you way,”. He looked ashamed. Scared. That was what made it so hard for Virgil to stick to his plan. Janus looked so hurt and lost and ashamed. And during lunch, he was nowhere to be found. Virgil needed to talk to Picani about this tomorrow. It would be a busy session. He contemplated where things had gone wrong for the millionth time for a while until he heard the door and looked up to see his fathers enter the room. “You’re back!” he greeted as he sat up. “So I gotta know, who’s your fourth guy?” he wondered casually. His dad just looked at him confused. “What do you mean?” “For your poker nights,” he clarified with a chuckle. Imagining Patton or uncle Thomas playing poker was kind of funny. It seemed so out of character for them. Still he couldn’t imagine what else would take all three of them getting together like this. Thomas had taught musical theatre classes, back when he was still a professor, and now he was the dean. Then again, Virgil wasn’t certain his uncle was always present. Tonight might just have been one time he happened to be there. But Patton definitely had been part of this project as much as Logan was. The past six months at the very least, but most likely from the start. “No cardgames I’m afraid kiddo. We’ll tell you about the project once it’s finished. It’s all confidential for now I’m afraid,” Patton told him gently. Virgil looked long and hard at Patton. He wasn’t lying. And confidential stuff made a lot of sense. He shrugged, letting it go. Even if his first guess was right after all and his dad was doing some kind of superhero stuff as BrainStorm, if Patton was there to help him Virgil felt assured that they’d be safe. Though he wouldn’t know how Patton, or Thomas, got wrapped up with anything involving a former super villain. “Okay, keep your secrets,” he sighed as he stretched. “Night Pat, night Lo,” he bid before heading upstairs. “Goodnight Virgil, I love you.” Virgil looked back at his dad when he heard that. “Love you to dad,” he replied with a smile. “Love you three kiddo!” Patton added, making Virgil laugh. “Love ya Pat.” And with that he went upstairs to his room. His new room was bigger than the one in his old house. But he didn’t care much about that. His old room had memories. He missed it honestly. He started to worry that he’d been too quick to say that he wanted to move out. No matter how nice the new house was, and how conveniently it was positioned, it would never quite be like the one he’d known most of his life. He let himself drop on his bed. It was pointless to think about that now. At this point, another family had probably moved into their old home. They’d brought their own furniture. Probably painted over the walls. Erasing the little doodles he’d made when he was little and bored. Before his mind could go any farther down that path, he heard a buzzing. Roman sent him a text. “Greetings! I just got back. Sorry for not checking in earlier. Could not be helped. Did you get home alright?” Virgil chuckled and texted back. “LOL. You worry too much. Hope you had a fun night.” Virgil certainly did. Just thinking about it made him impatient. Oh why not? Before he could second guess himself, he pressed call. “Virgil?” Roman sounded surprised, but Virgil was already way to giddy about his news. “I had to tell you now. I saw him!” he whispered. “Who? And why are we whispering?” Roman asked, mimicking his volume. “I’m supposed to be asleep,” he admitted, earning himself a chuckle. “Ok… Who did you see?” Roman asked. “Dream Prince!” expecting the logical next question he edited his story a little. “I went for a walk and I guess he was doing patrol in my neighborhood, I caught a glimpse of him,” well, that was an understatement. But he couldn’t tell Roman everything. Not yet. He’d lectured Prince about being cautious just today. He trusted Roman. But anyone could overhear them at any time. “He was wearing my costume! You were right! I can’t wait to get a good look at it in action!” Again. “You think someone got a picture? I didn’t have a chance. God I should’ve taken a picture so I could show you!” Though he wasn’t sure if he could’ve managed to get a believable citizens picture of him. He doubted Prince could be photographed if he didn’t want to be. “I’m sure I’ll see your work plastered around the front pages Monday. Pretty sure you missed out on the Saturday edition. But the news stations might talk about it.” Virgil’s cheeks hurt from smiling. “You sure you don’t want your name attached to it?” Virgil considered that for a moment. It would be kind of cool, he supposed. But he was trying not to draw any attention to his civilian self so long as he did the vigilante gig. Asides from that, he didn’t want anyone to be able to claim any of his future successes were due to his connection to a superhero, or have expectations based on this one work. “Yeah… I just… I know I should want the credit. But, just in case he becomes like this big time hero,” which seemed very likely to Virgil. His powers were pretty amazing and he had the personality to make it big. “I don’t want my possible career to be defined before it starts, you know what I mean?” He hoped he did, because he was starting to get confused by his own phrasing. “Maybe I’ll come forth with the original sketch when I’m like, 30, to prove it was me if it still matters by then,” he concluded. “Sounds like a smart plan. I’m going to let you go. I do need my beauty sleep after all.” Oh, he made it too easy. “You said it, not me,” he chuckled. “Night Princey.” “Buenas noches. Mi querido amigo,” Roman replied dramatically. Virgil rolled his eyes. Though he smiled as he realized Roman just called him ‘dear friend’. Trying to hide the way that warmed his chest he let out a groan. “Bon nuit,” he huffed in retaliation before hanging up. Janus had taught him a bit of French over the years. And just like that his thoughts returned to his old friend. Janus had been well behaved the past week. He hadn’t gotten in a single fight. Maybe he should try and show that he noticed. Just saying ‘hi’ wouldn’t be that bad right? Show that he meant it when he said he wanted to get back to being friends, real friends, at some point. With thoughts of a happy ending for everyone, Virgil fell asleep. The next morning he woke up early. He made sure to be quiet as he got ready for the day. Once downstairs he turned on the tv. And sure enough, the local station was talking about Dream Prince. A professional picture of him leaping across the street from one rooftop to another serving as background. The anchors were talking about his heroic deeds of last night, ranging from walking a girl home to taking down those criminals ‘single handedly’. “No one can deny it. This young hero finds no feat too great or too small, and he does it with style. Looks like he’s settled on a look.” They thought his costume had style! Virgil was vibrating with excitement. He couldn’t sit still. He had to do something with all this energy. He started on breakfast. Bacon, eggs… It had been a while since he’d felt up to making a big breakfast and been the first to wake up. Patton was as much of an early riser as he and Logan. Which meant he hadn’t had Virgil’s secret omelet recipe yet. He was bouncing on his feet as the two anchors were analyzing the costume in as much detail as they could. They found the heels a bold choice and the mask an elegant way to incorporate a crown. When Virgil heard his dads move about upstairs he turned the news off and set the table. Patton really liked the eggs. That or he really wanted Virgil to think so. Three servings made him think that it wasn’t pretend though. After breakfast, uncle Thomas picked him up for their trip to the zoo. Virgil had been looking forward to it. It felt forever ago since he last spent some one on one time with his honorary uncle. “That’s a nice one. You really got the eyes down well,” he complemented as Virgil finished a sketch of a koala. “Thanks,” Virgil said, pretty happy with the result as well. “You are really talented. Guess it runs in the family. I remember your dad scribbling away in his poetry notebook all the time.” Virgil looked at his uncle with wide eyes. “You knew my father?” he asked perplexed. Thomas frowned down at him for a moment before his eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, no. I never personally met your birthfather. I meant Logan,” he clarified. Virgil was a little disappointed. For a second he’d hoped to learn a little more about his birthparents. But if Thomas had been talking about Logan… “My dad wrote poetry?” Thomas chuckled. “Yeah. He was pretty good. Though he’d disagree. He felt more comfortable using his sharp tongue on the debate team. He won us some prizes,” he recalled. Virgil took this in. He had wondered what his dad was like at his age before. Now was a good time to ask more. “So poetry and debate team… Guess that is why you two became friends, huh?” he asked. Thomas shook his head a little awkwardly. “Not exactly. With my social anxiety I probably wouldn’t have approached him if my mom hadn’t told me about his mom losing custody…” “What!?” Virgil gasped. He never knew that. Thomas cringed realizing he had maybe said to much. He looked down at Virgil. “Your grandparents weren’t parents of the year. Not abusive, but… neglectful I suppose. Logan never talked about it, so I don’t know the details. Just what little ” “He was in the system?” Virgil asked with a shiver. He’d heard about the system. He was glad he never had to experience it. “No, like for you there was someone ready to take him in right away,” Thomas told him. Virgil wanted to ask who had adopted his dad. But he had an idea… And he kind of didn’t want to hear he was wrong. He wanted it to be his parents. It would explain why Logan had such a hard time talking about them, but had so much love and respect for them when he did. “What was it like rooming with him? Was he secretly a slob in college?” he asked hopefully. Thomas relaxed and started talking about a few college stories, though he quickly veered into high school and early parenthood stories. At the end of the day Virgil had a good handful of animal sketches, an idea for his art project for the semester and Thomas dropped him off at Picani’s office. “Hello Virgil. How are you today? I heard you had a good scare earlier this week.” Virgil let out a deep sigh, sat down and started his story. Leaving Picani’s office a little bit later than planned, he felt a lot better. Or, well ‘better’ never had been the right word. He’d realized that sometime during the camp. After talking about Picani about what bothered him, he was still bothered by it. But he understood things more clearly. He felt less confused and had an idea of what to do about it. Picani never told him everything would be okay. He helped him understand what was wrong and how to either steer it in a better direction, or learn to live with it. He now felt less uncertain about wanting to give Janus a sign that there was still hope for them, even after what happened last week. He felt less guilty over indulging the people asking him out even though Roman was still very much on his mind. He even felt better about getting more information than he should’ve from uncle Thomas. It had been a relief talking about his theory that his dad had been in his parent’s custody for at least four years and that that was, maybe, the reason why he took him in when they passed. And the fact that he had at least one set of grandparents that might be still alive. He wasn’t going to ask about them though. If they held bad memories for his dad, he didn’t think he wanted to know them. It was very low on his list of priorities. The fact that his dad never mentioned them told him enough. The whole scare with the ceiling lamp was discussed and Picani left it alone when Virgil said that he didn’t want to waste too much time on it. “I’m home!” he announced as he came through the door. He heard Patton call a greeting from the kitchen and saw his dad come from the living room to meet him in the doorway. “Dad!” he called out eagerly as he gave his father a hug. “Virgil? Not that I do not appreciate you seem excited to see me. But is there a particular reason?” There were a few honestly. Knowing a bit more about how he ended up being raised by the smartest, most patient man he’d ever met had him excited. On top of that knowing what his dad was like at his age made him feel closer to him. He decided to focus on the latter. He’d turn sixteen soon. If Logan hadn’t initiated the conversation by then, he would. He could be patient for another month. “Uncle Thomas told me about your teen years. I didn’t know you were on the debate team!” he told him. He could imagine his dad thriving in that environment though. Maybe they should check out the debate team this year in between Roman’s play and Virgil’s art exhibit. Logan gave Virgil a small smile, a bit of pride in his eyes. It was rare for Virgil to see his dad proud of himself. He liked it. “Well, yes. It was a bit of a hobby of mine, as well as an attempt to get better at socializing,” Logan said modestly. Virgil picked up on the operative word in that sentence. ‘Attempt’. “You were a socially awkward nerd,” he concluded with a chuckle. He was so used to being nothing like his dad. Finding flaws and similarities to himself in the man he’d idolized as long as he could remember, it was strangely exhilarating. Logan, however seemed to misunderstand what had Virgil so thrilled. “Hey, that’s a complement! I’m a socially awkward artsy kid. Sounds like I’m your son after all!” he clarified. That reminded him though. “Speaking off. Uncle Thomas told me you wrote poetry back in the day.” “Really!?” Patton exclaimed from the kitchen. Logan was blushing. Scrambling for a way out of the conversation it seemed. “I… Experimenting with different forms of self-expression is a natural part of discovering one’s identity as a teenager. It was a phase. I would like to forget about it.” Virgil was about to argue against it, but Patton beat him to it. “Aw, but poetry is so romantic,” he pouted. And Virgil could see the way that affected his dad. Well, their date nights were about to get ten times more sappy. Hopefully going for the heart, and his ego, would work out just as well for Virgil. “That’s too bad. I thought I could make a project around your old work for art class,” he sighed disappointedly. And just like that his dad’s firm posture melted away. “I’ll see if I can find some of my old notebooks. Just ask my consent before you pick one.” Virgil couldn’t resist hugging him again. “Thanks dad. You won’t regret it. I promise.” He felt his father put his arms around him gently. A wordless “you’re welcome”. Virgil was feeling very chatty during dinner and so told his parents all about his day. They had to go to the university again tonight. Since Virgil was planning on meeting up with Prince and not sure if he’d be out all night or just long enough to talk to the guy, he bid them both a good night now. Just in case he’d be too tired to wait for them to get home once he got back. As soon as they were out the door Virgil dug in his closet for his face mask, something he wore when he was feeling sick and didn’t want to infect others. And his shades. He was going to take a chance on Prince today. He made sure he had his evidence at the ready. He’d updated it earlier that week and last night he hadn’t learned anything new. He decided to go with the same look as yesterday so Prince would recognize him more easily. He made his way to the street and vanished in the alleys. After a few minutes he found the rooftop they’d used as their rendezvous point last night. Hopefully Prince wouldn’t make him wait too long. He lowered the intensity of his cloak to be more easily spotted should someone be looking for him. Suddenly he heard a sound behind him. “Good evening my shadowy friend,” the grand voice of Dream Prince drifted through the air. Virgil turned around, his coat flaring out with the movement. “Hey there highness,” he greeted as he tossed him the evidence bag. Clear of any fingerprints or DNA as far as he could manage it, as usual. Prince studied it for a moment. “Is this…?” he sounded surprised. “A show of good will. I thought about it…” not enough. Maybe he was biased because he reminded him of Roman. Or because he’d seen him during his training wheel days. Maybe he didn’t want to be alone anymore. “You seem alright. I’ll… I’ll have your back. If you have mine.” They could help each other. Grow stronger together. Weren’t heroes always at their strongest once they learned to work together? “You do know that if I hand this in, they’ll know I made contact?” This guy. Virgil chuckled, finding this strangely endearing. “You mean you haven’t told them yet?” Prince’s posture straightened almost defiantly. “You didn’t say you were alright with that!” Was he actually insulted by the idea of reporting back to his people without Virgil’s permission? Guess he’d read him right. Good to know. “Okay. Well, consider this my permission. If I don’t want to be found, I’ll disappear Prince.” He’d find a way to avoid Prince if it was necessary. “Tell the chief all communication with me goes through you. If you don’t mind.” Because Virgil didn’t trust the chief enough to go anywhere near her. Prince nodded as he reached for his ear. “I am currently debriefing Phantom. I’ll let you know when I’m done here. Tell chief I’ll stop by with a package. Radio silence until further notice.” Virgil couldn’t stop himself from letting out a chuckle. This guy. He really needed to be more careful. “You ever thought I might be a bad guy? You shouldn’t cut off your back up like that in front of me.” Had they taught him nothing at the GTH? “You’ve had plenty chances to take me out,” Prince pointed out, much to Virgil’s surprise. “You could have let those goons get me the first time you saw me. You could have attacked me while I was busy with those guys yesterday. And who knows how many times over the summer. And on top of that. Who says my communicator is my only way of contacting back up?” Okay, so maybe Prince knew what he was doing after all. “Fair enough. So what now?” He had no idea what would come after this. He just knew that Prince reached out, and he’d accepted. The ball was back in Prince’s court. “Now… I warn you about the collector.” That sounded very serious. He almost wanted to get out before he could get involved, but a gut feeling told him that this was important. He eyed the edge of the roof. Well might as well get comfortable. “I feel like this is a sitting down kind of conversation.” Once they both sat down, Virgil put on his sunglasses and dropped his cloak completely. It was symbolic or whatever. Letting his guard down in a visible way. He turned to the prince expectantly, a little annoyed at how the dark glasses limited his vision. Prince took in a deep breath and started his story. “The collector is an old enemy of Manifestor. He recruits Gifted, and those he thinks deserve to be gifted for some kind of revolution. You and I are probably his kind of people. Young, full of potential. All that stuff creeps like that love to go on about.” Virgil’s eyes widened. That did sound bad. He was suddenly very glad he had not confided in anyone about his powers so far. Who knew if the Chief was on the Collector’s payroll? Or maybe Picani was being spied on. “So we should be careful, you and I. I want to help you out,” Prince told him as he offered him two small objects. A stone and lip balm? “These can help you hide your identity without having to use your… Do you have a name for it?” Prince wondered. Virgil wasn’t sure if he could disguise his voice. But if he did, he was not going to risk Prince being someone from school who might recognize his voice. “Cloak,” he replied before dropping his guard again. “Cloak… Cool,” Prince nodded as he showed the black stone. “So this, is a voice modulator. I adjusted it to fit your tempest voice as best as I could.” Virgil couldn’t help laughing. Tempest voice? That sounded so cool honestly. But man was it dramatic. “You clearly have not heard it,” Prince pointed out and he had a point. He sounded normal to himself. “What’s with the lipstick?” he asked. “This will paint your hair black faster than any hair dye. It’s also a very good hair gel and it washes out right away,” Virgil bit his lip as Prince offered him the items. He was not used to being helped. Not as ‘Phantom’ at least. He still struggled with it as Virgil. Letting Roman help him with his English assignment yesterday had been hard. But he had to let people help him. He had to take a leap of faith here. So he took the items and got up to try them out. “No peeking!” he warned, though he would keep his cloak up. It was more to test if Prince would be tempted to go against his wishes. He didn’t. Virgil placed the modulator on his throat where Prince had his red stone and applied the balm to his hair. He spread it out and took a moment to decide on the style he wanted to go with. He tried for windblown, though he wasn’t sure if he did it right without a mirror. “Okay, let’s try this,” he said testing out his new voice. Wow, if that was what he really sounded like then Tempest voice might just have been the most accurate description. He looked back at Prince who was getting up and waling over to him. “Okay. So… what’s the plan?” he asked, curious what Prince was expecting out of this collaboration. “Well… We could try and meet up here regularly. We might not always patrol at the same time, and you might be busy. But I could… If you are okay with it… I could help you coordinate with the cops. Like you kinda suggested earlier. Or we could like, do some patrolling together? Keep each other company…” Oh, that was cute. Prince could be insecure. Virgil was starting to think he was unshakable. “It might be nice talking someone who gets it you know? You’re my age right?” he wondered. Nice try. Very subtle. “I mean… I guess, but I’m not sure how old you are exactly,” he shrugged casually. He wasn’t going to give anything away that easily. “Fair point.” Or maybe there hadn’t been an ulterior motive. He was getting paranoid. “Anyway… What do you want?” Virgil thought about that for a moment. He hadn’t expected to be asked for his opinion. “I mean… Debriefings sound cool,” he said casually. “I’d like to patrol with you, but my parkour is no match to that walking on air trick you got…” He was kind of jealous of that one if he was honest. “I was thinking of hanging around the clubbing district at the end of the night and making sure some party goers get home safe. I’ll see you around there when you’re done?” This talk was fun and all, but Prince should probably check in with his team soon. And Virgil needed to think about things for a minute. “That sounds like a good idea,” Prince agreed as he gave him a bow. “Until then. Know that the GTA’s resources are now at your disposal through me. So if you want to get a proper suit or other fun toys, you need only ask.” And with that Virgil’s new ally sprinted of into the night. A real suit huh? Virgil shook his head. He’d have to think on that some more. For now, he had work to do.

Hero au

@cirishere @hestianerd1 @moonlightshow00​ @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043​ @angelic-cali​ @selenechris​ @theblackveilinreverse

[cannibal-wings]

WIP Wednesday

I’ve been writing Survivors again and figured I’d drop this really serious scene in my super serious story written by a totally serious author.

R was doing his absolute best to ignore the other human in the room. But it was rather difficult when he could feel the human’s eyes on him. The other man thought he was being sneaky, but he wasn’t. R expanded his chest out in way that would convey he was taking an annoyed breath. He had seen his Host do that many times and it seemed like the appropriate response.

“Why do you do that?” Waylon asked.

R did the motion again and put the book he was reading down to reach for the white board his Host insisted on buying. He heard his Host say in his head, “Communication is important R, it’s the most important thing we have. It makes relationships and partnerships work. We can’t do this without better communication. For all of us.”

He growled through the static, something that Waylon couldn’t feel but his Host probably could. Then he uncapped the pen to write, “Do what?”

“Sigh? Breathe? It’s fake right? So why bother?”

“Body language is important in expressing emotions.”

Waylon read that and then said, “So you are imitating human emotion. Why? You aren’t human and no one can see or hear you, well, besides Upshur.”

R quickly wrote, “We adopt behaviors from Our Host. We may not be human, but We are forced to communicate with one. With you. We have emotions. As much as We hate that fact.”

“You hate it?” R nodded. “Why?”

“We were not supposed to be like this.”

“Like this? What do you mean?”

R erased what he had written and scribbled some more, in smaller handwriting. He had to stand up and hand the whiteboard over so that Waylon could read it. “We are not supposed to be separate from Our Host. Something went wrong. Our ideal function is to be one. One being, one mind, one action. Not two. We are two. There is Us and then there is Our Host. The unfortunate end result of this is that We have developed a sense of self. We don’t like it.”

R knew that his host would call bullshit on that last point. But his Host knew him far more intimately than the other human did. With the human he could pretend to loath his emotions, hate his new found individuality. With his Host there were no such secretes and his Host could read him as easily as he himself read books.

At the end of it all, R liked being R. He liked being partnered with his Host. Out of the sixty odd years he had been alive on this planet, this was the best he had ever felt. He knew wasn’t supposed to feel to begin with, but he did, and it was far too late to change that.

“So you want to not exist?”

R shook his head and took the whiteboard back. “Not existing is not the same as not having personhood.”

Waylon was quick to say, “No, I know that. That’s not what I meant. I mean you as in your thoughts, your… what does Miles call you? R? You would rather not be R?”

“Correct,” he lied through ink.

“What about Upshur? Do you think he would like being one?”

“We do not know. Most likely not. Our Host is very invested in his sense of self, and his humanity.”

Waylon nodded. “Of course he cares about such things. Being human should be important.”

“Why?” R was curious to see how Waylon would answer. He had asked this same question to his Host and not received a particularly compelling response. His host always managed to dodge the question or wax poetic about the value of “humanity”. R just couldn’t see any reason to prescribe such attachment to a fickle concept as a label. While he was thinking he was alerted suddenly to a wild spike in his Host’s blood pressure. R snapped to attention and turned his head to the bathroom door. His Host was supposed to be taking a shower, typically his resting heartrate decreases while showering, something was wrong.

Waylon caught the way that R froze and stared at the door. “Is something wrong?” Even without an answer his anxiety started to bubble up and his cultivated flight or fight response was tipping towards flight. The Walrider didn’t answer, instead it set the whiteboard down and moved for the bathroom door. Without warning it slammed the door open and rushed in. Waylon surprised himself when instead of running for the Jeep he was on R’s heels and entered the bathroom too.

Miles yelped in surprise at the sound of the door flying open. Waylon couldn’t see him but he could hear that he slipped and fell in the tub with a shout. R yanked the shower curtains back to a very confused Miles. “R what the hell? Are we being attacked?”

“That’s what We were going to ask you,” The Walrider replied, an edge of panic in the static. “We felt your heartrate increase and We were-”

Miles cut him off, “You felt my heartrate increase?”

Waylon peered from behind the Walrider and asked, “You ok Upshur?”

“Y-Yeah I’m fine, nearly gave me a fucking heart attack.”

“Nothing wrong? The Walrider looked panicked.”

“The Walrider needs to learn to fucking knock,” Miles said back.

It was then that Waylon’s eyes drifted across Miles’ body, it was hard not to, with the way he was sprawled out in the tub. Little travel sized shampoo and conditioner bottles were knocked onto the floor. “Are you sure you’re-” his eyes finally found their way down to Miles’ crotch and then they whipped back up to meet Miles’ gaze. “Oh, you were…”

Instead of embarrassment Miles only smiled and chuckled. “Like what you see? You know, normally I’d welcome an audience, but you’re a married man and R is a bunch of nanites. So, if you’d excuse me, I’d like some privacy as I finish up.”

“Y-Yes of course,” Waylon could feel his face heat up and he knew it wasn’t from the steamy water. Absent mindedly he grabbed at R’s wrist and tugged the Walrider out of the room and shut the door behind them. Then he realized what he had grabbed and let go like the smooth, cool, skin burned him. He moved back to his bed and scooted up against the wall.

After a few more minutes Miles came strolling out of the bathroom, a pair of sweatpants sat loosely around his waist and a towel hung around his neck. Water still dripped from his hair. “Shower’s open,” he said to state the obvious. “And you,” he said to R, “you need to knock before you barge in on a guy like that.”

“Host how were We supposed to know your blood pressure had increased in a non-danger response?”

“Well you could start by asking? Or maybe stop to feel the waves of pleasure? I sure as shit don’t radiate that when I’m being shot at.”

Waylon blurted from across the room, “I can’t believe you haven’t had The Talk with the Walrider yet.” A pause then he added, “And I can’t believe I have to hear it second hand, right now.”

“And I can’t believe I haven’t jerked off in two months. Cut me some slack, sex education wasn’t exactly high on my priority list recently.” He brought the towel up to rub through his hair and started to laugh again. “I’m not laughing at you,” he said to clarify when he spotted Waylon’s forced frown. “Come on, it’s not like you’ve never seen-”

“I’m not having this conversation anymore,” Waylon said and pulled his knees up and placed his computer on top of them, clearly blocking out Miles and R from sight. Miles kept laughing.

There was some silence and then Waylon lowered the laptop screen and asked, “Did that hurt?” When Miles tilted his head slightly to ask Waylon spluttered, “You know, getting your…” he pointed down at his own crotch.

“Oh, the piercings? Nah. I like to joke that I’m ribbed for-”

“Nope!” Waylon said sharply, “Do not finish that sentence. Too much information!”

Miles shook his head and laughed again. “You’re the one who asked. You’re a hoot.”

[bleedingcoffee42]

Eureka AU- Part 8

My weekend mini-nano is coming to an end, what a ride. 16k words on a make-it-up-as-i-go fic. Fun as hell, wish I could do this every day.   But for now, outta writing time.   Fear not, I’ll finish this week but I’ll sure as shit leave it for now as a cliffhanger.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

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Roy sat by Riza's side after Knox relocated her to Al's lab under much protest, however the medical equipment was easier to move than Al's.   Roy went over all the theories and data about a dozen times and eventually gave the green light on Project Hawk's Eye.   He told Knox he would be the one to inject the syringe full of nanites into her IV, that was not going to be on the doctor if this all went wrong.

If he lost her, he didn't really care about the repercussions of everything coming down on him.   He'd stave it off as long as he could in order to go after Raven and root out his accomplices in this theft of relics and trail of murder, but he had no misconceptions about it all catching up to him.   He'd step down from the head of the facility first, have someone appointed to take his place that had it's best interests in mind, and spend his money and limited freedom on hunting everyone down.   He prayed it don't come to that.

“We're ready.”  Al said.   “I injected a few into myself to test it and they are operating as they should.”

“What the fuck Al?”  Ed gasped.  

“Like you weren't going to do the same thing.”  Al mumbled.

“I'm not the genius who can control the little bastards!”

“Which is exactly why I had to do it.”  Al replied. “They're my creation, I can't ask someone to test out what I create if I am not willing to do so myself. Especially not Hawkeye.”

Ed walked over with the syringe and handed it to Mustang.   He almost didn't want to let go of it, scared it would be the cause of her demise.   Scared because if it didn't kill her, the lack of another option would.

“It's OK Ed.”  Roy said and took the syringe over to the IV line and paused as he took the cap off the needle.   He looked over at Riza and bit his lip.   Not the kind of shot she expected to be in danger of dying from, he was certain of that.   So he stopped costing more time and injected it slowly so there was no chance of clumping the microscopic robots anywhere.   Then, syringe empty, he retracted it and put the cap back on and set it down to wait;  Wait and watch her vitals for a spike to tell him this was the wrong answer.

“Ok, I have data.”

Roy looked over to Al.  “And?”

“I've sent them on a mission to disperse and target anything with their similar profile.  I already have data coming back.”   Al said and put it up on the screen for everyone to see.   “Well the good news is it's biological and not nanotech.”

Roy took a deep breath.  The Elrics were great at mentioning things after the fact.

“Money can't buy you, Al.”  Ed said appreciatively.  “You're the only one this good.”

Marcoh waved his hand at the screen. “Can you send this information to my tablet?”

“Already on it's way.”  Al said.   “I have them targeting and following the virus.   That way we don't waste time when you give me the modifications.”

Roy sat down beside Riza and held her hand again.   No change was good news at this stage and he could feel Knox hovering and waiting for something to happen.   Marcoh was scribbling loudly on some paper, preferring to work out things the 'old school' way instead of taking advantage of all the technological advances around him.   Roy wanted to help, wanted to be able to use his knowledge and education for something but he couldn't help here. All he could do was physically be here and comfort his wife in a way he hoped she could feel, perhaps there was something to that joke of theirs about using him for his body after all.

He turned his attention to thinking about how much Riza had changed his life.   They got off on the wrong foot and they continued to meet in the middle on everything, mainly because she wouldn't get out of his way.   She blocked him every time and forced him to compromise.   The resolution always produced good results and finally he came to her with a peace offering of dinner.   The town needed her, she was someone he had grown to respect and in a few months of fighting with her he had to admit he looked forward to her barging into his office telling him off.

He never expected her to say 'yes'.   It was just his charismatic womanizing facade coming out and trying to charm her, but she had said 'yes' in the most hostile and satisfied way possible that made him question if he had in fact been played.   He owed her dinner for all the times she had to spend time off duty cleaning up his scientist's mistakes.     It better be expensive too.  He countered the best he could, saying and expensive dinner require proper attire and a dress uniform wasn't going to cut it.   And her smile, god she smiled like she was the Queen of Hearts and he was about to get decapitated.  At that moment he sat back in his chair and realized that it might not be so horrible to lose this chess match of theirs after all.  

When she did show up for that promised dinner at his house, insisting on picking him up because he was a terrible driver who never paid his reckless driving tickets, he opened the door to the most amazing sight he had ever laid eyes on.   Riza Hawkeye stood on his doorstep like an angel, setting sun behind her with a glow of the glory of God radiating in the background.   A long gown that looked like it was made for her and probably was.   She had made friends in Eureka, certainly someone like Alex Armstrong had told her he would make her the perfect dress to stop Roy's fucking heart as soon as he laid eyes on it.

And that it did.   However it was less the dress and more the woman wearing it.   Something about how she owned that presence and could be wrapped in satin and lace and not lose herself in any of it.   There was more to her than he gave her credit for, more than the hard ass Lieutenant who became their disciplinarian Sheriff.   More than the soldier who was quick to order everyone around when the situation went to hell.  More that he desperately wanted to find out about.   It was more than she bargained for because she was not expecting him to be the one cooking her dinner at his house.

Checkmate.

It didn't phase her, she entered his house as if it was a royal palace and not a suburban home.   He had his best tux on, carefully planned and cooked four courses and dessert and served them all by candlelight in his dining room.  There was no hostility as they both silently agreed to a truce for the night.   They talked about work, since that was always the adventure of the week, and accidents they could now laugh about.  

And she had the most incredible laugh.  

Night turned into morning as they relaxed on the couch and dared to show each other their personal side.    Her caring for the men of her command, how much she missed being in the field because of this special assignment and how much she was actually enjoying being the Sheriff of this small town.  The people were special, she liked having someone to protect.   He admitted he wanted to do anything to keep this town safe, to keep the people free to work and funded to do so.   Something he never openly admitted to anyone.   She eventually said it was getting too late and it was time to leave, he asked her to stay.   To his surprise, she accepted his offer.

He wondered why she accepted any offers of his,  especially the first one to take the job as Sheriff of Eureka.

Now he couldn't help but wonder if she was deliberately sent here by her commander to get her away from her men.   Exiled because she had seen too much and had too much integrity to just forget it happened.    There was no reason that a qualified officer like herself would be sent here to the middle of nowhere to babysit scientist unless she was someone who could be counted on to be in his pocket.   She'd never be that, not for Raven.  Exiled until he had a chance to figure out how to erase the evidence of his actions.

But Roy had been the one to pick her from a field of candidates.   That was what bothered him, Raven had to know what he was looking for in a choice for Sheriff.  He had to rig the choices so there was only one option.  Roy wanted to drive down to the Hotel right now and beat the truth out of him, beat the life out of him.   Ensure he didn't get away with this.  

“I have it.” Marcoh announced. He walked over to Al's computer and said, “Bring up the diagram. I'll show you want to rearrange.   Then you can program them to eat the other virus.”

“They're robots.” Al replied.  “They don't eat.”

“They just ate several billion dollars worth of military super soldier contact lens.” Ed reminded him.  “Just let them tear it apart.”

“And lose their form?  They're currently bonded as a virus.   You want me to release them and let them float in the bloodstream?   They're too tiny.” Al replied.

“Strangle the virus then.”  Ed said.  

“Supreme excellence consists of breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting.” Roy said, quoting Sun Tzu.   Everyone went silent, he must have sounded authoritative even if he felt lost.   “Make your nanites more attractive to the virus than the cells it's attacking.  Make it look like the original Xerses virus instead of the watered down immunity in her system.     Let them latch on to the nanites so we can tell the robots to leave her body and take the virus with them.   Riza can't be the battlefield, she's put up enough of a fight on her own.  Let's draw the enemy out.”