#rxnaascxncx

[deviiantics--archived]

CONT. - @rxnaascxncx​

Although Simon was not really able to connect to Connor during the revolution, since he was a bit cautious and a little wary in his presence at the time, and perhaps quite aloof, the slightly older unit was also aware that it was  a much more difficult way for Connor to deviate from his system and join Markus and the other deviant fighters. Connor was one of the newest models on the market, a prototype with many bodies. The domestic assistant was aware of CyberLife's secret projects of the RK units, as Markus was a part of that program as well as a prototype, an unique piece created by Kamski himself. It was made much more difficult for Connor that he wasn’t allowed to deviate, since he heard of the additional artificial intelligence in his processor, a "graphic interface", a virtual location installed by CyberLife. Artificial intelligences such as Connor can mentally enter the location, while their physical body is located anywhere. As CyberLife controlled his actions, interrupted by any wrong movements. Surely, there was no chance given that the RK800 unit could take actions by himself only, to act out the way he desired. No, Connor was given a strict plan so it would have been denied for him to deviate ever, only Markus’ words seemed to finally dawn to him, to question his life and what was doing is wrong, the purpose humans created him for kill his own kind. But with anything that happened, CyberLife, even Connor, caused an immense trail of pain and destruction, the loss of lives of many androids who have fought for the revolution too. Nevertheless, Simon would feel bad to fully blame the other unit for this, since he clearly had no control and only listened to the orders given to him, as any other non-deviated android would. He obeyed like any other would have.

So it surprised the blonde unit to find the other android in front of his door after all the time that has past after the revolution, as Simon now found the slight taller unit now at his own apartment almost a year after the events and even had found a new job as a pre-school teacher and carer of a local hospital. The other android's expression spoke volumes, so Simon was already worried about him and let him enter his home, offering his help to address the specific problem. In the past, there was likely to be little room for Connor to speak up was he was feeling, even though he built himself up a certain human friendship, this policeman Hank Anderson which helped him to find the better, the right path. “Please, sit down.” said the blond droid in a usual soft voice, leading the other android to the couch before sitting down next to him and started listening. At first, Connor seemed like he was not even able to pronounce a reasonable sentence, as if in fact something great was gnawing at his mind, that he said he would fall behind and... reflect again. Memories? But Simon remained silent for a moment, blue kind eyes peering in all the attention towards his old colleague to show and assure that there was no hurry to give an answer.

This was until caretaker unit witnessed the word ‘Phillips’ and his head lifted slightly and his gaze widened slightly. Did Connor mean the Phillips family, or any other? Simon's mouth opened a little, but did not speak when he wanted to continue listening to the other unit in front of him and shortly thereafter received a confirmation. Connor spoke of Daniel, Simon's closest friend and the only android he titled as his brother from the PL600 series. The blue-eyed unit swallowed a little nervously, even his eyes turned aside for a few moments. Of course, Simon knew about what happened back in August of last year. Daniel became a deviant when he learned that the family he loved idolatrously just wanted to replace him, throwing him away like a piece of garbage. If he could not continue to be used, he would probably have been deactivated and destroyed. It was anger, disappointment, grief and even fear of death that led Daniel to his violent actions and even endangered the little girl Emma. She, who had nothing to do with this whole situation, where even Daniel regarded her as a daughter of her own. The blondehaired carer swallowed again, this time somewhat harder as he was finally parting his lips to speak, to answer Connor.

“It was you ...” Simon replied after a felt half eternity to finally break this oppressive silence. “It ... It was all over the news and the months after that you were on the hunt following us.” the PL600 added, a tremble in his voice. There was more that he wanted to say but - he wasn’t sure if he should even say that at this very moment. He knew Daniel, and he also knew that Daniel was not dead, that Connor didn’t have to blame himself for this, taking a life of another deviant, who just, a few moments ago, found the meaning of his existence. As much as he promised his brother not to say a word about him, especially not towards one who worked for the police, but Simon could be sure that the other darkhaired droid would show any bad intentions towards the dead believed PL600 unit. The former deviant hunter showed regret, which literally was eating him alive, he was no longer unscrupulous hunter for the androids who needed nothing else but help, he had changed for the greater good which made Simon immensely happy and relieved. But also proud.

“Connor, I feel bad enough saying this to you but I’d feel worse seeing you like this. Daniel... Daniel isn’t dead. He’s alive. I can’t tell you where he is but you should know that you have no reason to live with this regret.” stated the caretaker softly in his voice, as he was moving his hand a little up and placed his palm against the brunette’s shoulder. 

[fearlessandchaotic]

previously. // @rxnaascxncx​

   THE detective opened her mouth to answer but closed it right away. She observed the perp blending into the crowded streets down the street. Her head turned to Connor as he spoke. Hana frowned slightly and shook her head as she turned on her heels and headed towards her car that was a few blocks away. They had followed their suspect for a while. 

   “I just...” She began but exhaled sharply, shoving her hands in her pockets. She stopped and turned towards the android. “I feel like it’s the wrong guy.” 

   SHE couldn’t tell why exactly she felt like that, call it intuition. But something told her they were on the wrong path as if they had been fooled, and the actual suspect wanted them to concentrate on someone else. 

   “I’M heading back to the station. I need to look over some evidence again.”

[warblest]

WILL GRAHAM.

( continued. )

even bathing in a stew of crushed roses, puce lavender petals, and glossy pourings of olive extract, could not banish the stench of fur and wood and pine from his flesh; it seeps into him, replacing the same pale resemblance of natural perfume he always carries with him: powdered odor-discouragant, warm milk, crisp cotton cuffs. even scrubbed raw and still, somehow, finding suds in his chestnut hair, he may appear daisy-pure, but that horrible smell lingers — kurt combs irritable fingers through a damp patch behind one ear, all cream pale and strawberry blush, nibbling at the stiff bristles of a toothbrush, mint paste smearing at the bottom lip. he empties the contents of his mouth into a plastic cup, rinsing and swilling water about, spitting.

bent over the couch, graham’s gingham shirt — in mossy plaid and herringbone bits of red — is at once too big and too short: easily slipping down knobby shoulders, barely to the knees. he whirls about at the husky murmuring of the other male; he tugs the hem downwards. ❝ i don’t have my own pajamas with me. i prefer silk. ❞ abashed, he tries, in a more apologetic tone: ❝ i’ll wash it tomorrow. do you need it back ? my clothes — could be — dry by now. ❞ or still dripping in the bath-tub, the tired tile ripe and pungent with animal skins and fermenting fruit. ❝ why are you up, mis — ter — gra — ham ? ❞ the words stutter and stammer, syllables pulling apart like soft salt-water taffy, between a drowsing yawn. ❝ — ahem. pardon me. — but did i wake you ? can i do something for you ? ❞

[waywardbled]

@rxnaascxncx​ gets a thing for dean!!!

she woke up feeling a bit off in her bed at home. which didn’t seem right to begin with, but it felt good. it felt like home. unsurprisingly, she figured, as she was in her bedroom in pontiac, illinois. getting out of bed, she stretched, taking note of the awards and banners in her room and she smiled at the picture of her and her parents on the dresser. it was as though she was seeing everything for the first time. today was going to be a good day!

heading downstairs, her father was making breakfast and her mother was folding some laundry. they greeted one another and that’s when claire saw it. a boy, her age, standing in the corner of the kitchen that apparently no one else could see. he looked like a ghost and her brow furrowed as she stepped closer to him, but he disappeared.

“claire? you okay?” jimmy asked.

when she turned back to face him, things seemed to move like a bad connection on a tv. like there was static there almost. something was not right. it had to be her imagination though, didn’t it?

in reality---in the real world, claire’s arms hung above her head as she was suspended by them and there was an iv in her neck as she slowly had the life drained out of her from a djinn.

[faithxgrey]

CLOSED | Faith & Dean

@rxnaascxncx

It had been quite some time since Faith had gotten a case to solve. This time she had gotten word of a few murders in South Dakota.  The description of how the bodies were found led her to believe that the killings may have been caused by a vampire, and she was more than happy to find out.  

It wasn’t easy for Faith to travel across state lines, but she found pleasure in doing so as long as she was helping others.  She made money by picking up shifts in bars and diners from state to state, and being good looking made it easy for her to get the jobs.  

This time was no different, as she picked up a job as a bartender in Sioux Falls.  For now, she would work - taking in her surroundings and observing the people who lived there, see if there was anything unusual.  Faith took notice of a man sitting at the bar and walked over to greet him. 

“What can I get for you love?”

[delabor]

@rxnaascxncx replied to your post: @deanmcn - “did i ever mention i find groggy...

*le gasp* ur cheatin on MY dean *le gasp again* I thought their wall makeout was speCIAL

WE HAVE N EEDS

[cheaburi]

Charlie had ounce again found her self in her Larping outfit. She loved it here the sense of magic but the ginger wanted something a little more, sure she loved Larping and hanging out her best friend. This time everything was going to be so much different, she needed someone to rule especially if something was to happen to her. Th ginger needed her best friend to do that job, Charlie thought and thought about how she was going to ask him. Finally a plan of action came to mind, she was going to ask him to possibly be the prince of Moons someone had to right. The ginger basically ordered him to go into her tent. Now to just stop pacing and to come up with her plan of action.

@rxnaascxncx

[rxbcurn-a-blog]

Hey guys, I've moved Dean over to @rxnaascxncx. It's a multimuse blog where all my lil bbys can be together under one URL. I'm gonna archive Deano, but I hope to see ya'll over there! Love you guys!

[mxtamcrphcsis-a-blog]

Hey ya'll! I've moved over to @rxnaascxncx , where all my current muses are! I will br archiving this blog- BUT FEAR NOT. Will is still around on my other blog!! Love ya'll and hope to see you over there!!

[negotiiator-a]

@rxnaascxncx​:  "You're holding onto things that are holding you back." 

                    It was... difficult for Connor to move forward after the revolution. Even though Markus had forgiven him, made it look so easy to do so even after knowing what he’s done - he still felt so much guilt over the actions he’d done prior to becoming a deviant.. the hundreds of lives that came to an abrupt end after what had happened in Jericho. Moving on, allowing himself some forgiveness - it felt like a disservice to the people he’s killed.

                    ❛ … I know. It.. isn’t easy. Letting go.  ❜    Though he’s sure that the other is familiar with the concept. 

[edenwander]

@rxnaascxncx​  /  x

It wasn’t like she wasn’t oblivious to what he had done before; EVERYONE was aware of the infamous deviant hunter. Going after his own kind, a cold machine compared to those that had deviated. Many had been in fear of being found next by him. It would have been all too easy to dismiss the reaction he was having, let him ultimately DIE for everything he had done and turn a blind eye to his obvious remorse and grief. She never had been the coddling type anyways, most often just trying to get someone off their ass rather than hold their hand through it all and one of the very reasons she was no leader and had never desired to be. So of course the thought occurred to her. To just WALK AWAY and leave him to self-destruct. It would have just been easier———

But soldiers just never walked away. Even if comfort and soothing words weren’t exactly in her CODING, a coding part of her still clung to and held firm on, leaving someone to just die wasn’t either. Instead one hand reached forwards, using the strength built into her to pull him towards her with all the care of a damned postman. Aka, NONE. LED of her own changing from its normal golden glow to the same crimson as his, her words were nothing short of direct.  ❝      If you’re looking to me for all the answers, you’re going to be very disappointed. I may have been a deviant longer than most but do I even LOOK like someone that has it all figured out?      ❞    Most deviants outright defied all their programming and here she was, following key parts of it still. 

Always ready for a fight, though turning her skills to kill to use more as PROTECTION for those incapable.

❝     You want to self-destruct, then go ahead. How much hell have you caused for our people, how many are DEAD because of you? I could put a bullet through you if you’d like it to go quicker and I wouldn’t have any sort of remorse because of what you’ve caused. I’d think of it as a big FUCK YOU to our creators for making you in the first place and I’d be fine with it. You’d be gone and we’d never have to worry about you again. You’d be lifeless and utterly USELESS on the ground.    ❞     Words spit like venom, almost as if she were actively trying to push him towards that edge, as if she truly had no care in her heart, a persona she often gave off if only to keep others away from her. Easier, so much easier.

And then she was releasing her grip on his clothing, her own posture turning from tense and ready to fight to calmed, though still on high alert as she always was and LED returning to the perpetual state of yellow it was held captive in and even her words soothing from rage to apathetic.   ❝     But, like I said, you’d be just USELESS. So take an artificial breath, calm your stress levels, and then you can figure out how to still help us. This isn’t all over, there’s still going to be a long road to go. And then you can MAKE UP for what you’ve done in your past instead of giving up. I’ve shed my own share of blood for our cause but I’m not going to let my actions destroy me when I might still be needed and USEFUL.    ❞    

[doctorwillseeyou]

The fall

@rxnaascxncx

The cold water hit Hannibal like someone had punched him. He gasped when his head popped back up then frantically began looking for Will, he was weak from blood loss as he tried to swim for the beach.

[warblest]

WILL GRAHAM.

( continued. )

he scowls, crinkling and childish; graham, in the earliest star-glimmer hours of morning, is without studious charm, or academic austere appeal ��� all thick stubble prickling at the jaw, the bridge of a nose marked by the impression of glasses, stained boxer-shorts. dog kibble crunching beneath bare feet — kurt leans down, examining briefly the pink butter-soft sole of his own foot, brushing away crumbs. ❝ nothing at all. ❞ he replies, mildly, pouring himself a helping of sweet milk. ❝ what pictures are you studying ——— ugh ! ❞ hand claps over mouth ! ❝ ech ! ❞ it bears repeating. the youthful blush of his cheeks have faded: as pale as the drained glass. ❝ i - i - i don’t know how you can look at that. e - even if it is for work. ❞ his intentions of breakfast are promptly dropped: no miniature squares of wheat, no dry pieces of toast. ❝ — i’m not hungry anymore. ❞

awoken by the cry, an ancient dog of some mutt-muddled breed comes sniffing at his trembling palm; he idly strokes one ear, the prodding nose: a wet, sticky stripe of a spotted tongue is his greeting. kurt hastily wipes his hand off against the discreet corner of a paper towel. ❝ … do you want me to leave ? ❞ he ventures, still in the borrowed plaid pajamas.

[faithxgrey]

Shout out to @rxnaascxncx because I was extremely nervous to come back from my 2+ year hiatus and start fresh, but they have been nothing but kind and patient with me as I’m getting the hang of things again. 

:’) so thank you.

[warblest]

WILL GRAHAM.

february rattles his lungs with frost crystals and powdered sugar-snow, melting upon the strawberry-pink tongue, falling in lace-fragile patterns against chocolate-dark lashes, flour-pale hands dotted wetly: kurt dragging two paper sacks of groceries down the aisle, fragrant rosemary branches and emerald leaves of basil, ruby apples and cartons of heavy cream: all accoutrements without the main course, spices but not a roast to adorn, dessert ingredients to follow an empty supper. only shriveled bits of innards for stew remained, not his favorite plump hens.

even in the shelter of the supermarket, the iron-dark afternoon welcomes disease: he sniffs, tugging a crumpled tissue from one coat pocket to wipe at his cherry-dark nose and raw nostrils, chin tucking to his chest and shoulders rising to protect bare ears, gaze idling on the other customer, a row across. the odor of pine and spruce and fir — wet dog fur and cayenne seeds — cheap bar soap and muddied calf-skin boots. a nest of dark curls and the beginnings of a beard. dried kibble in the basket.

— and from there, kurt glances to the rack of newspapers, monochrome letters in austere ink: the chesapeake ripper kills again ! he swallows, hurrying to the register, snatching a magazine between quivering fingers, as if wings of thin drafting paper and translucent tracing sheets and miniature perfume samples and glossy technicolor advertisements. it, too, gets placed with the rest of his half-supper upon the rubber belt, to be rung up. ❝ sir ? ❞ his tone is as soft as flaccid flowers, directed to the scruffy male. ❝ are you in line ? ❞ wilted by the winter, he presses his mouth against the scarlet wool of his scarf, warmed by his own huffs of breath. he has to get back, to school dormitories, to home beddings, before the glimmering threadings of stars and the pale head of the moon show themselves.

he frowns: the final piece of cellophane-wrapped beef is in the man’s basket, claimed.