#so excited for this one. i know it's niche but you gotta trust me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sideshowyelling · 4 years

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Knocked Down, Dragged Out, pt. 1

I decided I wanted to post this properly here instead of just a link. V meets a ripper, one that’s too good for the slums of Night city...

“That’s not his real name. I refuse to believe that’s his actual name.”

Really it had been the way that Jackie had talked Viktor up as a whole that made him seem too good to be true, like some unobtainable perfect ripper who would be able to patch V up no matter what shit show they had just gone through time and time again. Good work, trustworthy guy, and cheap? The guy might as well have been a walking contradiction if anything Jackie was telling him actually held any weight. Most of the time you were lucky to get two out of three, and finding someone who was the whole package deal… well V had always figured that they would have a better chance at winning one of those rigged fucking lottery pools than finding someone like Jackie was describing.

“Viktor Vektor? Sure fuckin’ is, his mama gave him that name. Think she must have hated him or somethin’… I’m telling you though V, Ol’ Vik’s the best in town, mark my fuckin’ word.” Jackie said, leaning against the food stall that the two had stopped at for a bite to eat just outside of V’s megabuilding.

“Yeah? There’s ripperdocs all over town, what makes this one so special?” V asked, not bothering to look up from their own takeout container that they were doing little more than picking from at this point.

“What can I say? He’s got the magic touch, make you feel better than you have in years, I guarantee.” Jackie said.

It wasn’t hard to see just how excited Jackie was to be able to introduce V to Viktor, to make a connection between an old friend, and his newest partner in crime. He’d been mentioning that he had a guy he wanted to have V meet if they were going to be working together as closely as they were, they needed someone who could put them back together again after a rough job if they were ever going to really make it big in this city after all. This wasn’t just a doctor to Jackie though, no, this guy was so much more and it showed.

“Come on Jack, is he a ripper or a joy-toy? I really can’t tell with the way you’re talking about him...” V asked.

The laughter that got out of Jackie was a bit surprising to V, but it was deep and genuine so it brought a smile to their face all the same. “Oh man, tell that one to his face, he’ll get a good laugh out of it too.” Jackie said, finally finishing up his own food before he tossed his to-go container into a nearby trashcan as he stood up from his seat. V followed suit, crossing their arms over their chest as they followed after him. Jackie may have been just about as excited as V had ever seen him before, but they still had their apprehensions about the whole thing.

“If he’s so good at what he does, and for fuckin’ zilch compared to the prices of some other docs around town, then… why the hell haven’t I heard of him before? I’m no fixer but I still keep a pretty damn good ear to the ground, especially in this part of town.” They said.

“Simple, cause he deals in referrals only for his appointments. Doc’s gotta be able to trust their patient every bit as much as their patient’s gotta trust them, right? I haven’t brought too many chooms to see him before, so consider yourself lucky V, you’re getting the preem slumcare-healthcare today.” Jackie said.

“Low prices and a short patient list, sounds like a good way to go out of business to me.” V said with a shake of their head, staring down at the ground as they made their way through the streets with Jackie at their side. Just a short walk from their apartment was what Jackie had told them. How fucking convenient.

“Trust me, it ain’t about the money for him, V, you’ll see.” Jackie assured, clapping V on the shoulder and dragging them closer until they were walking side to side with Jackie’s arm thrown over them. They looked up at him, and the excited gleam in his eyes was enough to ease their concerns just a little bit.

Their short walk ended with them standing inside one of the last places that V expected to be that day; a shop front that not only dealt in spiritualism, an already niche interest in a city so grounded and built on the bodies of corporate sellouts, but one that was ran by Jackie’s own damn girlfriend. She might have been the last person they expected to see, but V greeted her with a smile all the same, giving a quick look around the eclectic shop at the trinkets and knick-knacks for sale as Jackie went to lean across the front desk to steal a kiss from Misty.

“Hey baby, Vik ready for us yet?” Jackie asked, and Misty shook her head, pointing her thumb towards the back of the shop as she spoke.

“Not yet, he’s got Laurie down there right now. She was running real late today and… well, you know Vik, he’s not gonna turn her away unless he has to, not when she was as haggard looking as she was when she finally got here. Shouldn’t be long now though, I’ll let you know as soon as his chair’s empty and wiped down.” She said, looking between V and Jackie both before motioning to her own empty shop chair. “Maybe while you’re waiting I could offer you some of my services? On the house...”

“Awwe, ain’t that sweet, V? VIP treatment for the both of us.” Jackie said, pushing himself off the counter and making his way over to the chair to have a seat while they waited.

“I can’t say I’m surprised Jackie,” V said, watching as a small smirk spread on Misty’s lips, and her eyes stayed locked on him as she followed Jackie over towards her chair to kneel down beside him. “I think the shopkeep has a bit of a crush on you...”

“Oh yeah? Maybe I ought to see if I can get her number then...” Jackie mused with a playful wink aimed at his girlfriend, already admiring the hit of a flush on her cheeks with his light teasing.

“If you don’t I sure as hell will...” V said, though no sooner than the words left their lips did V lift their hands up in a defensive way when Jackie shot them the nastiest look he could, silently daring them to continue that train of thought. “Kidding, you know I’m kidding. Not about to step on any toes, especially not yours. Besides, you two might as well be pure sugar, gonna make me fuckin’ puke with how sweet guys are…. You better tip her well though, Jackie, I mean it.”

“Oh I tip her real good V, don’t you worry about that.” Jackie said, cackling to himself before grunting as Misty reached out to place her hand in the center of Jackie’s chest and give him a little shove to get him laying back flat in the chair. She may not have been the strongest person ever, but V knew better than to assume she couldn’t handle herself. Once Jackie was laid back in the chair, he gave her a sheepish grin and the best puppy dog eyes he could muster, but she didn’t seem as weak to them as V was.

“Watch what you’re saying, Jackie, or when V heads down I’ll pull out my acupuncture kit.” Misty said lowly.

V watched as Jackie’s expression quickly morphed into a pained grimace, and he jabbed a thumb up towards Misty as he turned towards V to explain. “She’s still learning...” He said grimly, before tilting his head back to look up at Misty again. “Babe, you know I’m more than happy to let you practice on me, but V’s appointment ain’t gonna last long enough for somethin’ like that. Just introducing them to Vik and getting them in his system, you know?”

“Ooh, that’s right,” Misty said, turning her attention over to where V was busy flipping through a little booklet that Misty had set out for sale on star signs. “You haven’t met Viktor before, have you? Are you Nervous, V?” She asked.

For a moment V paused and looked up in thought, because really their anxiety about the appointment had been coming and going since the night before. They couldn’t quite place why, but it would creep up on them at odd moments. Here and now though, when they were watching Jackie and Misty talk about it with excited looks in their eyes… “No? Not really, why? Should I be?” They asked. “With the way Jackie has been talking about the guy, it sounds like I’m about to have a new best friend.”

“I meant more… well, just going to see a new ripper can be a little stressful sometimes, especially one not as well known. He doesn’t get new patients very often, and there’s not a lot of buzz on the street about him, and that can make some people uneasy.” Misty said with a small smile. “Dr. Vektor’s got a bit of a grumpy face, sure, but he’s actually a sweetheart if you’re doing good by him.” She assured.

“Oh-ho Misty you better be careful talking about Vik like that, would hate to get him griping about people thinking he’s ‘going soft’ or something like that.” Jackie said with a deep laugh.

“Where the hell did you even meet this guy, Jack?” V asked.

“Met him in a fight actually, boxing match years ago that was damn near fuckin’ legendary man. Never met someone who’s given me as big a run for my money… I laid him out flat in the end though, had him seeing stars I think.” Jackie said, but even as he boasted there wasn’t really a smug air around him. He looked more like he was fondly reminiscing on the day he punched his friend’s lights out.

“You know, the more you talk about him, the less I actually believe the guy even exists.” V said. No sooner than they had said this though, a green light accompanied by a low buzzer went off on Misty’s desk, drawing everyone in the room’s attention to it. Jackie patted the arms of the chair he was sat in as he pushed himself up, Misty standing beside him to lead them both to the back room.

“Yeah? Well saddle up, V, because you’re about to meet him.”

What V was lead out to was a rather nasty looking back alley, littered with trash, broken down furniture, and what V could only assume might have been a few straggler Piranhas who had pushed themselves too far, as well as the general homeless. They weren’t sure this was really the ideal place to open a good clinic at, but then again this was the Red-light district, and it probably wasn’t much worse than anywhere else Viktor could have set up shop in the area. V couldn’t help but wonder if maybe the fact that Viktor’s clinic was back here might have been one of the reasons these haggard looking city slummers had gathered there in the first place.

“Misty I’ll be back up in just a few minutes, wanna give V a proper introduction instead of just sending them down all on their little lonesome.” Jackie said, and Misty reached up to pat Jackie’s cheek with a smile before she turned to head back inside her own shop.

“Good luck V!” She called out to them, the door closing behind her only a moment later.

There was a set of stairs that lead down to what V could only describe as an underground basement, and the sheer absurdity of such a sketchy location hosting a good doctor was a little baffling to them. They weren’t worried though, especially as Jackie slung an arm over their shoulder and lead them down into the clinic’s dim lighting. They stepped through the door at the bottom of the stairs, only to come face to face with a gate, and before it’s automatics could slide it open for them, V could see the doctor sitting across the room at a desk, tinkering away with what looked like a cybernetic arm.

The gate slid open and the two stepped in as Viktor looked up at the both of them. A warm smile crept onto his face when he saw Jackie, and he tossed the screwdriver he had been using up onto his desk before holding his hand up towards him. Jackie pulled away from V to go and grip it tight, slapping his other hand over the back of Vik’s in greeting as he all but pulled the guy out of his seat.

“Viky! Good to see you’re still alive and kicking down here,” Jackie said. “Brought you a new customer, that new partner of mine I’ve been tellin’ you about? Well they’re finally ready to take the plunge and get involved with a real ripper.”

“That so?” Viktor asked in a voice far deeper, gruffer around the edges than V ever would have expected from him. He leaned around Jackie just a little to get a good look at V, who had stayed behind a couple of steps while the two friends caught up. “I was wondering why I had a new name listed for an appointment for today. Suppose I should have guessed it was you bringing in a stray...”

V wasn’t entirely sure what they had been expecting to see when they first met Viktor, but the man before them certainly wasn’t it. He was an older man who, despite his line of work, didn’t look as though he had an ounce of chrome in him. Now that V was a bit closer, they could see that what they had initially thought was a cyberarm was actually some sort of external tool glove that Viktor was wearing rather than him actually having anything installed.

That… wasn’t to say that Viktor didn’t look like he could go toe to toe with some of Night City’s most dangerous if he needed to. The guy worked out, that much was clear as day, and V only had to take a quick half glance around the clinic to see some of the more personal areas where a couple of weights had been left laying around from whenever Viktor had last put them to use. And even while Viktor was sat down, staring up at Jackie, it was easy to tell that the man had good height to match his build.

The glasses that Viktor had on were dark lensed, and it made it hard to see his eyes behind them, but really V didn’t need to see them in order to know that his eyes were flicking between them and Jackie both. He was probably sizing V up, making judgments on whether or not he could take V in a fight before the two of them could even exchange a word. V didn’t blame him for that, but it still left them feeling just a tad bit on edge.

Before V could introduce themselves or Viktor could even ask about them, Jackie motioned with a wide sweeping arm towards V and waved them over. “V, I want you to meet Viktor Vektor. Vik, this is V, best partner in crime I have had in a long time now.” Jackie said, trailing off just a little as Viktor stood up to meet V halfway as they approached.

“Uh-hu, it’s nice to put a face to the name… first time here and you’re already a tad bit infamous in this clinic, you know that right?” Viktor asked as he extended his bare hand to shake V’s, and even if his tone seemed almost a tad bit hesitant, the nod he gave and the small smile that came with it took the edge off of his words.

“What, Jackie been shit talking me behind my back again?” V asked, giving Jackie a playful side-eye as they took Viktor’s hand and gave it a firm shake.

“Just heard a few of your more recent gigs is all, if not from Jackie then they tend to run up the grapevine through Misty.” Viktor explained, before he stepped back towards his desk after pointing across the room towards the only part of the clinic that actually looked like it was a professional medical set up rather than an underground gym locker. “Why don’t you go and park yourself over there for a minute? I’ll be right with you, just gotta finish tightening up a few loose screws before we get started.”

V shot a quick look to Jackie, who simply nodded and gave them a little nudge forward towards the operation station before he himself went to lean up against the wall near the Clinic’s front gate. The double thumbs up that he gave them was enough to get them rolling their eyes, but it did put them at ease as they made their way over to wait for Viktor.

The clinic really didn’t offer much in the way of comfort for it’s patients, not in it’s visuals anyway. As V took a seat in the chair and had a look around, the place really only gave off the vibes of a joint where you would go expecting to get some shady, illegal cyberware implanted, only to wake up a day or two later in some ice bath, if you were lucky of course. The only real lighting came from the bright surgical lights hanging over head, and a few neon signs that Viktor had laying around more as decoration than anything else. The Kiroshi display looked as though it had been jacked from right off the street somewhere, and as far as V knew, that may have very well been the case.

V continued to let their eyes wander around the clinic and just take everything in while Jackie seemed more than happy to make a bit of small talk with Viktor while he grabbed a few things off of his desk and got his shit together after his last appointment.

“You’re never gonna guess where I picked V up, Vik, really is a wild story.” Jackie said, and Viktor glanced up at him for half a second before giving an amused scoff.

“Do tell? What kind of crazy did you drag in here this time, Jackie?” Viktor asked. It wasn’t meant as an insult by any means, and V didn’t take it as such. No, the way he said it honestly sounded like someone who had seen Jackie get into his fair share of trouble, and if Viktor was anything like Jackie had described to them, then he had probably been the one to put him back into one piece nine times out of ten. “You ever gonna just meet someone casually in the street instead of landing yourself in a heap of trouble with a complete stranger?”

“Vik if you want meet-cute then this is about as good as it gets in Night City. Found ‘em trying to nab the same damn luxury car as me, couldn’t let them get in the way of a stack of eddies though, you know?” Jackie said, a fond grin on his face as he looked over towards V.

“Fucker hadn’t said two words to me before he had the business end of a gun pressed against my head.” V spoke up, leaning back in the chair just a bit as Viktor finally made his way over after kicking his rolling stool over with practiced ease. “We didn’t even have time to fight about it before the cops were stormin’ us, had us face down on the ground…. We… had something of a man on the inside though, so here we are to tell the tale?”

Viktor let out an amused huff at their rather troubling first encounter. “It’s always just that, isn’t it Jackie? Some wild, lucky break that keeps you from being flatlined and dumped off somewhere in the middle of nowhere.” He said, taking a seat beside V before pointing towards the exit. “Now go on up and let me get to work here. I’ll send V along once we’re through, shouldn’t take too long but we gotta get through all the preliminaries first and foremost. How about you tell me the whole story over a drink later this evening?”

“Yeah, I get it, I don’t really wanna sit around and watch V fill out a datapad anyway.” Jackie said, pushing off the wall and turning to make his way out. “Vik if you really want that drink then you’re on, Coyote Cojo tonight.” Jackie said, pointing at V. “V, I’ll be up in Misty’s shop, I ain’t in a hurry but come find me when you’re done. You’re in good hands alright?” He said before stepping out of the clinic.

V nodded and waved Jackie off a bit absentmindedly as Viktor handed them a decent sized datapad with what looked to be a blank medical file pulled up on it, an editable one. Their lips twitched down into a small frown as they looked it over, scrolling to the bottom of the page and then back up again while Viktor pulled up a few scanners on his own data terminal.

It took Viktor a few minutes to actually look up at V as he set things up, but after only a half glance over and seeing that V was just sitting there, staring down at the datapad in their hands with a confused look on their face, he turned towards them. It didn’t actually look like they had made any progress on it, and if they needed help with anything on it, he wanted to make sure they got it.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” Viktor asked.

V didn’t say anything for a moment before shaking their head, holding the datapad up just a little higher before finally beginning to fill it out, starting by typing in their alias. “No it’s just… well, I’ve been to my fair share of rippers before. Never had one hand me paperwork to fill out though.” They said, and Viktor rolled his eyes, barely visible behind his glasses.

“I’m sure Jackie has already told you a bit about what kind of business I run here, right?” Viktor asked, turning his attention back to the screen to finish getting his system all set up. “I’ll take people in off the street when they need it, but that’s not my usual practice. Most of the time when people come in to see me, they’re regulars, and it’s nice to be able to pull up a basic medical file about whoever I have on my table, at the very least.” Viktor said. “Whether or not you ever end up back here again is up to you, but if you do…. Well, lets just say I’d hate to have you wheeled in half dead and not know if the drugs I wanna use to shoot you full of are gonna fucking kill you or not.”

“...And this isn’t gonna leave your hands after I give it back to you, right?” V asked, the first hint of hesitance sneaking into their voice that Viktor had heard, even if they cut it with a small, somewhat forced laugh afterwards. “Know some weirdo fixers and solos who would pay decent eddies for deets’ like this.”

“I just want to know if you’re allergic to penicillin, not all your deepest darkest secrets.” Viktor said, pausing his typing again to point to the datapad. “Listen, you’re asking the right questions and I like that, really, but if I was gonna sell out and hand my patient’s information off to some asshole who would use it against them, or god forbid some fucking corp, do you really think I would still be set up here in the slums of the Red-light district? Been here for years now, V, and I can promise you nothing said or discussed in here gets past that gate.”

“Ok,” V said, holding up a hand to stop Viktor, a sheepish look on their face. “Ok I got it. It’s just… been a while since I’ve been to a clinic that actually does things by the book, you know? I’m a bit more used to the no-questions-asked kinda joints.” V said, and the amused smile that spread across Viktor’s face as he reached out to finish the set up and grab a jack was enough to put them at ease, to know they hadn’t offended him.

“Oh you can rest assured that’s where the ‘by the book’ nature of this clinic ends.” Viktor said, pulling the cord of the jack until it was long enough to offer up to V. “Listen, show me a bit of trust and let me in V, and I’ll do my damned best to make sure you never regret it. Now do me a favor and jack in, we can make sure you’re systems are running clean before we really get started. You can finish up the file while the scanner does it’s job.” He said. “What all are you in here for today?”

“Just a checkup is all...” V mumbled as they reached out for the jack, examining it for half a second before reaching behind their head to slot it into their port. They felt the buzz and rush of electricity course through the port as the scanner connected and began an automatic scan, sorting through the files on their processor and all the tech connected to it. As little as that might have been, it would still take a few minutes for it to go through everything, so V sat back and let their eyes give Viktor as once over before looking back to the file, slowly filling out every section that they could. “….You take an oath?” They asked.

“Hmm?” Viktor didn’t quite look like he understood what V meant at first, so they pointed towards the pouch that was securely strapped to Viktor’s right leg.

“That’s a Trauma Team satchel there, right? Were you on a TT unit?” They asked, and Viktor glanced down at the satchel that he kept a small variety of tools slotted away in. Scalpels, smaller wrenches… he’d left the screwdriver he used to tighten the joints of his exoglove with on his desk, but there was space for that there in the pouch as well. “Don’t see a lot of corporate level doctors ending up as rippers on the street… or did you just happen to pull that off some really unlucky bastard?”

Viktor paused for a moment, seeming to think back on when the pouch had been given to him, but he ended up simply giving a little shrug. “I’ve, ah… well I’ve had a number of jobs over the years, to pay the bills between sponsored fights and whatnot. Let me tell you though, the reason you don’t see a lot of corporate doctors leaving their positions isn’t because they don’t want to. It’s because it’s not that easy to do.” He explained.

“You managed to get out though… gotta ask why you left a nice cushy job like that for?” V asked lowly.

“Something just not right about killing five people for the sake of one, just because the one had more eddies invested in Platinum, you know? That’s what your contract says you have to do if you sign onto a TT unit; if anyone stands in your way of the paying customer even the slightest bit…. Take ‘em out. Couldn’t stomach it, and I don’t really care if that makes people think I’m weak. I know where my line is, and I’m not going to cross it for some eddies.” Viktor said. He was staring down at the scanners as they worked through V’s system, but it didn’t really seem like he was actually watching them. He was lost in thought for a few brief seconds before he shook his head, sitting up a little straighter as he took in a huff of breath. “So yeah, I guess you could say I took an oath. Not the drivel they all but try to brainwash TT medics with, but...”

“I get it.” V said, and they saved the file that they had finished filling out for Viktor before passing it off to him. Viktor took it and gave it a quick skim before looking back at V when they continued. “It’s respectable. Sounds like you’ve got yourself a real good thing going here. I’m glad Jackie brought me by.”

“...Right, well, people don’t just come to me because they know me for being a good guy. Scans are just about done now, and it doesn’t seem like they’re picking up any critters. Sit up, lemmie have a look at you and lets see what we can do...”

The first thing that Viktor did was go over a few of the details on the file that he’d had V fill out for him, asking questions to clarify a few things and get a bit more history on both their basic physical, and the augmentations that they already had in place. He checked their eyes for proper dilation, their reflexes, took their blood pressure, and apologized quietly under his breath as he placed a cold stethoscope against their chest to listen to their heart and lungs. He took notes as they went, adding his own little addenda to the file so he could look back on them at later time. It was care that V almost found a little… surreal. This kind of care wasn’t unheard of, but damn was it rare down in the streets.

After Viktor finally set the datapad aside, he looked back to the scanner and quickly read over some of the data that had been pulled from it. V sat patiently waiting for some kind of doctor’s order before they heard Viktor give a small, curious hum to himself before he wheeled himself closer to the chair, motioning to V to sit up and turn to the side just a little.

“You’re runnin’ on an older system, been a good few years since you last upgraded your processor?” Viktor asked. “Tilt your head for me, please? I wanna get a look at the hardware you’ve got installed. Have you had any issues with connection errors between your augmentations and your processor? Any glitches with your optics, might come across as a sort of visual lagging?” He asked.

V tilted their head to the side just a little and reached up to make sure that no hair got in the way of Viktor’s inspection. Viktor stood up from his seat and gave a small sigh as he reached out and gently grabbed V by the chin, guiding their head just a little before he leaned in to get a good look at the serial number etched into the external rim of their port. V fought the urge to hold their breath, clearing their throat instead as they thought about Viktor’s questions. “It’s served me well enough over the years, and I haven’t noticed any issues like that. I just haven’t… well, even processors a year or so old can cost a fuckton of eddies. Getting a new one just hasn’t been enough of a priority for me.” They explained as they felt Viktor lightly feeling the area around their ports as while he listened.

“Installment doesn’t seem too shoddy… doesn’t feel loose...” Viktor said slowly, and V closed their eyes as Viktor brushed a thumb over the old, small incision scar that had been left behind when the processor was first installed. His hands were warm, rough from use, but the hold he had on them was about as soft as could be. Viktor gave another little hum as he seemed to consider something, before muttering a quiet ‘Fuck it’ under his breath as his hands slipped away from V, and he kicked off the ground to wheel himself across the room.

“Now, V, most of the time I’m with you on that if the tech serves you well and you’re happy with it, as long as you keep it well maintained there’s really no need to go out and buy every shiny new upgrade that the tech companies churn out every few months. With processors though it’s actually important to keep them fairly up to date, get a new one fitted in every couple of years or so at least. If you start buying newer augmentations and try connecting them to older processors it can cause… complications.” Viktor said, pushing himself up from his seat so he could dig through a couple of his storage boxes. “Now, I have a couple processors in backstock around here somewhere, nothing terribly fancy, but you should find that they give you a higher quality performance overall, as well as talk to any future tech you get better than what you’re currently packing.”

“Well that’s nice, but I’m kinda strapped for eddies right now. Like I said earlier, I really only came in to meet you and make sure my systems were in good working order. Jack said your prices are good but… can’t be good enough for flat ass broke.” V said, knowing damn well that everything Viktor was saying was right. They may not have had any issues with their tech being incompatible with their systems just yet, partially do to the fact that they could hardly afford to get any to begin with, but really it was just a matter of time before what little they did have would fall subject to forced obsoletion.

V watched as Viktor out of the side of their eye as he continued to dig for a few seconds before he seemed to find what he was looking for. He pulled out a small white case and popped it open to check that it wasn’t empty before snapping it closed once again. With the case in hand, he turned and kicked his chair back over, following after it as he held the processor’s case up to show off to V before he sat down with a small grunt. “Eddies or not, Kid, if you want it then it’s yours. Wouldn’t take long at all to switch it out with your old one.

V turned around to face Viktor fully when he said that, eyeing up the case for half a second before shaking their head. “Can’t take a gift like that.” They said firmly.

“Then we’ll put it on a tab for you, I don’t really care either way.” Viktor said with a shrug.

“A tab?” V asked, brow furrowing in disbelief at such an offer. “Viktor you barely fuckin’ know me and you wanna open a tab for an expensive piece of tech?” They asked.

Viktor nodded, and almost more surprising to V than the offer of a line of credit from the doctor was the utter lack of hesitance from him. “Jackie vouched for you, and if he says you’re good for it then… then you’re good for it.” Viktor said, giving a small shrug as he looked down at the case in his hand, before he held it out towards V. “Look, I’m not about to go mad doctor on you and install a new processor if you really don’t want it, but I also won’t feel very good if you walk out of here without an upgrade that you’re long overdue for just because money’s tight. Choice is yours.”

Nothing in the world was free, V had learned that the tough way years ago. The deals that always came back to bite you in the ass the hardest were always the ones where you went in thinking that the gifts you were given along the way were just that. Gifts. There was always a price though, always a small string attached that would unravel everything into a tangled mess if you didn’t watch your fucking back. There had not been one soul that V had ever met that didn’t at some point come back to make demands after doing even the smallest of favors for V free of charge.

For a split second all V could think of were bloody knuckles, busted noses, broken ribcages and being left in the gutters with their eddies wiped from their account after misunderstanding the intentions behind someone’s generosity one too many times. They swallowed thickly as they stared down at the case that had been extended to them. Every instinct in their body was telling them not to take it, to just finish with the basic check up and get the hell out of there before they got roped into a shitload of trouble taking things they couldn’t afford. When they looked up at Viktor again though, the doctor had a small smile on his face so soft and encouraging that it almost looked out of place in the fucked up world they were in. V wished they could have seen his eyes better right then, but even without them they could feel the anxiety in their chest ebb away as they remembered what Jackie had said to them earlier, his voice all but ringing out in the back of their head.

‘It ain’t about the money for him, V, you’ll see.’

Slowly, so slowly, V reached out for the case and took it from Viktor. They popped it open to get a good look at the processor safely nestled inside as Viktor clapped his hands together in a satisfied manner and wheeled himself around so that he could grab a few of his surgical tools. V leaned back in the chair, reaching a hand up to brush against the ports of their processor as they stared down at the device in their hands.

“You said yourself that you would do your best to make sure I don’t regret trusting you,” V said quietly. “And Jackie vouched for you as much as he apparently vouched for me, you know?”

“Did he now? I’m almost afraid to ask what all he said…” Viktor said, motioning for V to roll over onto their side as he stood to get a better angle, adjusting the lights above them as he did so. “All good thing I’m assuming?”

V reached out to return the new processor back to Viktor and shifted onto their side with their back facing him to give him easy access to their ports. “Made you sound like a damn joy-toy with the way he was talking about you. I almost choked when he mentioned something about you having a magic touch...” They said, and the deep laugh that Viktor let out when he heard that made V want to glance over their shoulder, to see the grin they just knew he had plastered across his face. Before they could though, Viktor placed a gentle hand on the side of their head to keep them still.

“Guess I’ll have to thank Jackie later for such a kind review, but for now I’m gonna inject a bit of anesthetic, OK? Once you’re good and numb I’ll get to work. Let me know if you feel any discomfort at all.” Viktor said between a low chuckle, and as V felt the cold press of an injector against the spot just below their processor ports the anxiety came back for half a second until the pain of needles pricking their skin melted into numbness. The quiet praise that Viktor mumbled had V closing their eyes, relaxing into the chair as much as they possibly could. “Good, just try and stick still for me, alright? I’ll make this quick so you’re not laying here long.” He said.

Honestly V could have fallen asleep there just listening to Viktor talk, if he hadn’t been about to take a scalpel to the back of their head anyway.

For a few minutes after that the only thing that V could hear in the clinic was the quiet beep of machinery, and the soft clicks of Viktor’s exoglove as he worked at carefully disconnecting and extracting the processor from V’s head. As he worked, alerts popped up on V’s rather basic optical display about the missing hardware, but V ignore it as there was nothing that could be done while on the operating table. They kept their mind off of it, and tried to focus on other things.

“So… you and Jackie… he said you two met in a ring?” V asked as the silence droned on for a little too long for their liking. They hadn’t been able to tell if Viktor just wasn’t a doctor who liked to get chatty while they were working, or if he just didn’t have much to say to them in particular, but as Viktor gave a low hum and spoke up, they figured they had their answer.

“12 rounds between the two of us. NC Devils had a few of their best fighters lined up that night, myself included. Jackie came in as an outsider just looking to get in on a few pickup fights and make some quick eddies. Rinsed through some of our best fighters before he ended up in the ring with me.” Viktor said, and V heard a small metallic clink, what they could only assume was their extracted processor being set aside.

“He said he won that fight. That true?” V asked.

“I’ve got the second place certificate to prove it...” Viktor said, and the slight hint of indignation in his voice made V laugh, and Viktor’s grip on them grew just a bit tighter to keep them steady. “And then after I could see straight again, I took him out to get a drink. Ever since then he and I have been fairly close. He gets me, I get him, it just works out.”

“Cold-cocked is a bit better than a getting gun pressed to the side of the head, I suppose. Glad to know Jackie keeps a good track record of making friends.” V snorted, staring ahead at the two little beckoning cat statues resting only a few feet away on top of some of the nearby equipment. They had seen a few on Viktor’s desk as well, and could only assume that Misty was the culprit behind them.

“At least it seems like he’s got decent taste...” Viktor said with a hum as he delicately grabbed the new processor in his exoglove. “Hey, listen, after this is all said and done I want you to feel free to come on by again, OK? Wouldn’t do anyone any good to have you flatlining in some back alley because you don’t think you can afford proper care.” Viktor said. “Seen too many people’s lights go out just because they didn’t have the eddies… I’m always willing to work something out if we need to.”

“Yeah… I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks Viktor.” V said slowly, brows knitting together as they felt the new processor click easily into place. Even with their eyes closed their optical display flashed a warning about the new hardware that had been installed, but it flickered away only a few moments later as the hardware quickly began to synchronize with the rest of their system while Viktor moved to jack V back into his computer system and make sure everything was updating and running smoothly.

“Keep still now, still gotta close you up again.” Viktor said, and V held their breath as V made quick work of closing up the small incision that he’d made behind their ear. They shivered as they felt a cool, wet cloth pass gently over the back of their neck and the freshly sealed would after that, as Viktor carefully wiped up whatever blood their was before finally V was disconnected and helped to sit up straight once again. Viktor stepped away from the operation table to go and grab something off his cart. “The anesthetic will last for a while longer, probably wear off in about half an hour after you leave, so I’m going to send you off with some stim to help the healing process and keep the pain at bay. Two whiffs now, another two in an hour. If you still feel like you need to take the edge off after that you can take an additional one, but keep an eye on it ok? If you feel anything more than mild discomfort then I want you to come right back here.”

V was tempted to reach up and touch the spot that Viktor had just operated on, but they knew that probably wasn’t the best idea they’d ever had. Besides, before they could even begin to reach up, Viktor had turned back and held out a small inhaler towards them. They took and gave it a once over before Viktor nodded down to it, so V lifted it to their lips and too two deep puffs off of it. There was no real relief right away since the back of their head was still numb, but V figured that they would be thankful for it later that evening. As they pushed up from the chair and slipped the inhaler into their pocket, Viktor snagged a fresh rag off his medical station so he could clean and the sanitize his exoglove.

“Hey, listen, Viktor….” V started, only to pause as Viktor looked up from what he was doing, slowing to give them his attention. They were sure that Viktor probably had other people he would be seeing that day for appointments, but there was something about the doctor’s nature that was more laid back than pretty much everyone else they had met in Night City. He didn’t seem to be in a rush at all to see V off, just wiping off his took while patiently waiting for V to continue. “I was pretty hesitant coming in here, I don’t know if you could tell, but Jackie was right to sing such high praise about you. If this is really the way you operate, I’ll be back again, I promise. I’ll bring eddies next time to pay you back for the processor and whatever else I might decide to get.”

“You know, sometimes hearing things like that can be payment enough. I’m no charity, so don’t expect me to waive your costs every time you come in of course, but I try to do what I can you know?” Viktor said with a little shrug. “I’m looking forward to it though, V. Will you do me a favor when you head back up and tell Jackie I still fully expect him to buy me a drink later and tell me all about how the hell you two even met, the details I mean. He’s got my number.” Viktor said.

V gave a small nod at Viktor’s request, and a they shifted from foot to foot a little nervously, stuffing their hands into their pockets. “Well, what about me, Doc? Do I get your number?” They asked. “Or does that require a few more visits?”

The amused smirk that V got the pleasure of watching spread on Viktor’s lips suited him a little too well for his own good. It wasn’t like the smug, cocky grins that V was so used to seeing on anyone who had even the slightest bit of rep to their name these days, there was something far more genuine behind it that V couldn’t quite place. It didn’t make them feel sick to their stomach just seeing it, and really that said way more than it should have.

Viktor set the wipe he had been using aside and he made his way across the room back towards his desk. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask… promise not to make me regret it?” He asked, and V watched as he leaned over to grab his holo off it to offer out to V for a scan. Quick and easy way to transfer numbers, and as soon as V saw the gesture, their face lit up with a smile and they pulled their own holo out to tap it against Viktor’s.

“I’ll do my damned best, how about that?” V asked with a laugh as the quick transfer of information completed and they saw the image and name that autofilled into their device as soon as the connection between them was made. Once they were satisfied, they tucked their holo away back into their pocket and stepped backwards towards the gate, giving a small wave as they did so. “Thanks Viktor. I’ll pass the word onto Jackie, and… and you’ll see me again real soon.” They promised.

“Good. See you later V, and take care...”

* * *

“Alright then, let me see it V,” Jackie said, making a motion for V to turn around and show off, like he would actually be able to see anything other than the small healing cut and V’s processor ports. “Viktor really spoil you and give you some free tech?”

“Not free, I’m gonna pay him back it’s just… I guess he figured I’m more likely to be able to come back and see him again if I have a better system running inside me, you know?” V said as they tilted their head just a little so that Jackie could get a better look.

“Mm… well he’s not wrong, a souped-up you is always gonna be better than a dead you. I’m just a little surprised is all. He’s been known to make a deal or two for someone who needs it, but normally he at least waits to see if he’s even gonna see you a second time before he starts doin’ stuff like this.” Jackie said, reaching out to brush his thumb gently over the port before he dropped his hand to his side and gave a little shrug.

“Guess he just puts a lot of weight on your word then, Jackie.” V said with a snort. “I’ll try and bring you credit, I guess, but it’s not like the guy doesn’t deserve to be paid back… fuck Jack, if he’s being honest, really doesn’t care whether or not I actually pay him back for this… you’ve got a yourself a fuckin’ diamond in the rough there.” V said with an almost dreamy sigh. “… By the way Jackie, he told me to remind you that he still wants to go out for drinks later.”

“Right, like I could forget a promise to go drinking, fuckin’ been a hot second since we’ve had a bit of downtime so I think we all more than deserve to cut loose tonight,” Jackie said, before crossing his arms over his chest. “You are coming with, right? Or are you planning on skipping out as soon as we get out of here?”

“I dunno...” V sucked a hiss of breath through their teeth, considering for a moment whether or not it would be a good idea to join the two, if for no other reason than to take the night off after they and Jackie’s recent flux of work, like Jackie had said. “Kinda seems like he just wants to catch up with you, you know?”

“Ahh don’t worry about that V, if he wanted to hang out one on one with just me, he could. We see each other more often than you think though, even with all the wicked jobs we’ve been getting lately.” Jackie said. “I try and stop in to say hello whenever I pay a visit to my Pretty lady’s joint, as long as he ain’t busy anyway.”

“Jackie, I don’t think that-” V started, but Jackie quickly cut them off as he stepped closer and threw an arm around their shoulders to pull them flush against his side.

“Come on V, Ol’ Vik likes you, I can tell. What with him puttin’ in a piece of hardware like that for you on the first date?” Jackie said, and he got that stupid look on his face that he always did then he thought he knew something that V hadn’t quite caught onto just yet. That was very rarely actually the case. “Just come have a couple of drinks. We’ll tell him all about how you and I ended up face down on the ground after a carjacking gone wrong. It’ll be a good time, V, you’ll make a friend, a real friend, I promise.

V gave a small sigh as Jackie pushed and urged them to join in on the night’s outing, something still not quite setting right about trying to slot themselves in between two old friends when they didn’t know Viktor that well yet. There was something about the way that Jackie could talk something, anything really, up that could melt the heart of the toughest gangers in Night City, and it was making it hard to think of any excuses as to why they couldn’t join. Out of the corner of their eye they could see Misty had a look of utter amusement on her face, though she did hide it fairly well all things considered. All they knew is that she wouldn’t be backing them up on this anytime soon.

“Alright, fine, I’ll come out for a drink or two, but don’t expect me to stick around the whole night, OK?” V finally said, holding their hands up in defeat as they caved, and the way that Jackie’s face absolutely lit up really did make it worthwhile.

“Oh that’s what I’m talking about! I’ll set it up, alright? You just run on home to gussy up, and I’ll send you the deets as soon as Vik and I get them all squared away.” Jackie said, giving V a light shove towards the door as he leaned back against the counter Misty was stood behind. “By the time you get settled in with us tonight, you’ll be wishing the night would never end!” He promised.

“I’m holding you to that!” V said, pointing sharply at Jackie and giving the firmest face they could muster, but it quickly broke as they laughed and waved him off. “I’ll be ready, just keep me up to date. Misty, it was good to see you, don’t let Jackie keep you distracted here alright?” They said as they started towards the door, not seeing the light playful shove that Misty gave Jackie in response. Jackie mumbled something in a playful tone to her that V didn’t quite catch as they stepped out into the loud and busy streets of the Night City Red-light district…

* * *

“There, I see his car, Vik’s already here.” Jackie said, pointing towards a small, dark blue vehicle parked right by the front door. “Probably inside already chattin’ someone up.” He said, and V squinted at the car that Jackie had pointed at before turning to pull in beside it.

“Why the hell does Viktor drive a fucking tiny ass clown car looking thing?” V mumbled as they parked and killed the engine.

“The MaiMai? Can’t blame him for liking to keep it simple, not everyone needs the biggest baddest ride on the street, especially if you don’t actually get out as much.” Jackie said with a shrug, getting out and looking over the top of the car towards the driver’s side, with V doing the same to look back at him. “Why? You really got a problem with it?”

“Just hard to imagine a guy as big as him driving around in a tiny ass car like that.” V said. “Also, like I said before, looks like a fuckin’ clown car.”

“Oh Vik loves it. Trust me, nothing’s better than seeing some poor road-raging asshole’s face go pale when they come to try and pick a fight, only to have Vik step out instead of whatever small spindly fuck they were expecting. He towers over them almost every time.” Jackie said. “Seen it happen first hand, kills me every time.”

Just imagining the scene that Jackie had described was enough to make V laugh. They locked the car up and stepped around towards the entrance of El Coyote Cojo, stopping only to playfully jab Jackie in the center of his chest. “Have a hard time imagining you sitting in a fuckin’ MaiMai too. The two of you crammed in a little two-seater like that? Fuckin’ laughable is what that is.” They said, only to be proven right as Jackie cracked up as he thought back to it, and really it had been just as absurd as V assumed.

Jackie shoved V’s hand away before reaching out to sling an arm around their shoulder, hauling them right up against his side as they stepped in. “Come on, burnin’ daylight here V. We gotta get settled in before the crowds start showing up and we can barely hear ourselves talk.” Jackie said, though really he was hardly complaining. He and V had spent a few good night at the Coyote living it up the best way they knew how, and often left stumbling into the streets with their heads and hearts still pounding to the beat of the music that would blast through the bar during the later hours.

There was a moment of adjustment needed as they stepped in from outside into the neon glow of reds and greens that made up a good portion of the decorative lighting in the joint. Beyond the workers, there were a few early patrons who had already made their way there and settled in at some of their favorite spots for a bite to eat and a good time with friends, but the bar was almost entirely unoccupied yet thankfully. Save for one lone body, anyway. Viktor was sat towards the center, making casual conversation with Pepe as he waited for his friends to arrive. With his back to V and Jackie, he didn’t notice as they approached until Jackie slipped away from V to move to one side of Viktor, while V moved towards his other side and the two caught his attention by sitting down on the stools next to him.

“Been here long Vik?” Jackie asked, and Viktor gave a quick shake of his head, reaching out to pat Jackie on the shoulder to welcome him, and when he looked over to V he saw that Pepe had already stepped over to take their drink order to get them started for the evening. He was a little surprised that V had actually come along with them, but when Jackie first mentioned the fact that they would be there, he hadn’t been disappointed.

“Nah... my last appointment ran a bit long so I just got here maybe ten minutes ago? Customer was about as indecisive as they come and took forever to decide what they wanted. Like I don’t tell my customers to at least have an idea what they fuckin’ want before they come in…. They ended up going for a damn set of rippers of all things.” Viktor said with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head, fatigue clear as day in his voice. “They always assume that just because it’s not a big installation that it will be an easy installation.”

“Rippers? Fuck man, that shit’s old-school, nasty work right?” Jackie asked, far from being a medic but he still knew how rough certain procedures were through word of mouth, and from listening to Viktor bitch about them enough times. Anything involving finger work tended to leave Viktor agitated. “Sorry to hear your day kinda went downstairs after we left. Installation at least go alright?”

“Ahh, it ain’t really worth griping over. I’m here now, ready for a drink. Definitely done thinking about cybernetics for the evening.” Viktor said, clapping his hands together to clear the air between them so they could get things started. Pepe had just handed V’s drink off to them, and he looked between Viktor and Jackie to see what they would be having. “Drinks are on you tonight, right Jack?” Viktor asked.

“Said I was buying, didn’t I?” Jackie said, nodding to Pepe. “Open a tab for me tonight? I’ll pay it off before we head out. Figure we’ll be here a good while though. Gotta catch Viky here up on what V and I have been getting up to, and he’s gonna need somethin’ strong to get him through this one.”

Jackie and Viktor both placed their drink orders and Pepe made quick work of getting them prepped and poured out, and Jackie picked his up as soon as it was ready before turning towards the other two. “Alright how’s about a fuckin’ toast first though, yeah? We’ve all got a lot of good going for us as of late, feels like tonight is the night to celebrate it all.” He said, watching as the other two followed suit in grabbing their drinks to raise up, V leaning forward against the bar just to look around Viktor so they could see.

“I mean, sure, that sounds good Jack,” V said. “What exactly are we toasting to though?”

Jackie thought for half a second before thrusting his drink forward just a bit, sloshing it slightly but none of them cared about the small spill it caused. “Let’s keep it simple; to friends. Old, new, ones we’ll meet in the future.” He said, and to that both V and Viktor held their drinks higher, with V reaching as far as they possibly could to clink their glasses together. It was sloppy, messy, so perfect for the three of them.

“To friendship.” Both V and Viktor said, and the three of them took a generous drink from their glasses before settling back down, V flopping back in their stool so hard it almost rocked a little.

Viktor took a second slow drink from his glass just to really appreciate it a little more, before he looked between Jackie and V both, and he motioned for them to get on with it. He had been promised quite the story several times by Jackie at this point and he expected the man to deliver. “Alright… so let’s hear it,” He said. “What’s the story behind you two?”

“Jackie set his own drink down and shifted in his seat so that he was fully facing Viktor with an excited gleam in his eyes as he began to set the scene. “OK, so I’m out there just doin’ a job for Wakako cause she’s got intel on a high-end, absolutely preem vehicle and she wants me to nab it for her. Apparently she had some client lined up wanting to buy it off her, she just didn’t have it in her possession yet, you know what I mean?” Jackie said, before flicking his wrist towards V, who couldn’t have hid the smirk on their face if they had wanted to. “And I’m all set to grab it right? I get there though and this fucker is sittin’ in the car already, trying to fuckin’ high-jack it with some garbage tech that’s supposed to be a kind of damn skeleton key for super cars I guess?”

V quickly waved their hands, shook their head, and Viktor turned his attention towards them as they began to explain their side of the story. “Listen, you can’t fucking hot-wire a car like that, it was just supposed to get the damn thing up and running for me, I was gonna do the rest.” They said, sighing. “I was trying to help Pepe out with Slimy Kirk ‘cause he was in the hole with him for some money. Kirk said I could do a job for him and Pepe would be squared away, and the job was to grab the car. ‘Course it went belly up like every fucking job from him does...” They said, pinching at the bridge of their nose as they spoke. They were about to carry on with the story, but there was something about the expression on Viktor’s face that gave them pause.

He looked… upset. A little confused, maybe shocked, but mostly just upset as his brow furrowed and he shook his head and turned his gaze down to the table. It was such an abrupt shift from happy and relaxed to this that it was almost jarring to V.

“Wait… wait you mean to tell me that Kirk’s still around? Nobody’s gone and flatlined that little rat yet?” Viktor asked, the disgruntled look on his face only partially obscured by the drink in his hand.

“What can I say? It’s on my to-do list, but bigger things keep pushing him further and further down as priority.” V said with a shrug. “Why? You got beef?”

“Well… hardly these days, doesn’t even matter anymore now that I’ve set up shop behind Misty’s, but the fucker took me for about a grand a few years back while I was still looking for a good place to run my clinic from.” Viktor mumbled, and beside them Jackie nodded with a low whistle as he waved a finger at Viktor.

“Yeeeah, yeah I remember that, god never seen you so pissed Vik. Had every right to be though, I’m still surprised you didn’t knock Kirk into next year...” Jackie said, letting out a low chuckle and shaking his head at the memory of it. “Bastard went into hiding for a bit before you could even get your hands on him or something, right?”

Viktor let out little more than an annoyed grunt in affirmation as he tipped his glass back against his lips and took a long pull from it. When he set it aside the ice clanked loudly against the side of the glass and he raised his hand to motion to Pepe for another. “Something like that...”

V looked between Jackie and Viktor for a moment, but clearly they were missing a bit of history here that neither of them seemed to be in too much of a rush to explain to them, so they cleared their throat and gave Viktor a little nudge with their foot to get his attention. “Hey, I mean he’s back in broad daylight again. If you wanted to send a couple of goons his way to get back at him for you...” V pounded their fist into the palm of their hand a few times for show. “I think Jackie and I could make a bit of time for it.”

Viktor shook his head, waving that idea right off without so much as considering it. “No, not necessary. Like I said, it was years ago and I’m happy with where I’m at right now. Besides, going after fixers doesn’t really do you any favors, even if it’s someone like Kirk… great way to get yourself blacklisted if you’re not careful. Lost eddies ain’t worth it.”

“Yeah… you axe one, all the others tend to get a little twitchy when they hear about it...” V mumbled, slouching in their chair just a little. It was clear to Vik that they were disappointed that they couldn’t help, but he wasn’t going to change his mind on that.

“I swear sometimes they know you’re gonna do somethin’ to piss them off before you even do it, don’t know how though.” Jackie said.

“Well…. Suppose if you ever change your mind, Vik, offer will still be there.” V said.

It was clear that all the talk of Kirk had left a bit of a bad taste in Viktor’s mouth, but he smiled all the same as V assured the offer for support would still be there if he ever changed his mind down the line. “Thanks V, I appreciate it, really. Not a lot of people in this city who would have your back just like that no questions asked.” He said, before muttering a quiet thank you to Pepe as his refill was set in front of him. He held the glass up in a much smaller cheers before taking a sip. “...Anyway, so Kirk sends you out on a job and you just happen to run into Jackie, who just so happens to be looking for the same damn car for Wakako?”

“Should have seen her, Vik, not just any car. Aerondight, ‘bout the sexiest set of wheels I’ve ever seen...” Jackie said, and V couldn’t help but snort at the almost wistful look on his face as he thought back to the car that got away. “PD were on our asses in fuckin’ seconds though, and I’m pretty sure the only reason we walked away from that one alive was because of Stints...”

“Couldn’t let us off without a proper beatdown though, better than ending up at the bottom of a fucking river at least...” V muttered, reaching up and rubbing idly at their nose that hadn’t quite looked like it was supposed to since that last little run in with the cops.

“Ok so… so let me get this straight,” Viktor started, setting his drink down before he leaned back in his seat and he motioned between Jackie and V both. “Somewhere between Jackie putting a gun to your head and getting your shit kicked in by PD, you decided that you two were gonna be best buds from now on?” He asked.

“Well, no, actually I still kinda wanted to kick his ass for a while after all that, but then he went and introduced me to Mama Welles and…. Well she asked me to stay for dinner, what can I say?” V said with a shrug, a sheepish grin spreading on their lips as they spoke. “Can’t say no to her, and can’t hurt her baby boy.”

“Awe, come on V, don’t gotta go breaking my heart by telling me you’re friends with Mama and not me.” Jackie said, and Viktor ducked his head at that, hiding the grin behind his hand. He couldn’t hide the way his shoulders bounced with poorly concealed snickering though, and when Jackie lightly kicked Viktor in the shin for laughing at him, Viktor reached out and gave a small shove right back in return. They really did seem like a couple of best friends, rather than a doctor and his patient.

“Learn to make chili like your mom, then I’ll think about upping you on my list of friends, Jack.” V said.

“Oof nasty words V!” Jackie said, giving the most heartbroken sounding gasp he could muster, hand placed over his heart. “Vik, you’re closer, punch them for me.”

Viktor gave V a bit of a side-eyed glance and a thoughtful hum as he circled the rim of his glass with his thumb. Then he shook his head with the barest hint of a smirk on his face. “Come on now Jackie, I don’t think they deserve to die for that...” He said, ignoring the way that V’s head whipped around and the indignant expression they had plastered to their face. The moment V opened their mouth to spit out some sort of a rebuttal Viktor shot them a look, just daring them to argue against him. “Hmm? Got something to say, Kid?”

There were a few beets between the two that seemed to carry on for an eternity, just Viktor staring V down while V looked like the cogs in their brain were frantically trying to churn out an answer to that challenge they had just been issued, at least in their mind. Finally V sat up a little straighter as the looked Viktor up and down before shrugging. “I don’t know Vik… I’ve been in some pretty decent scraps myself….. I think I could take you.” They said, tone laced with nothing but pure defiance.

Jackie erupted into laughter, while Viktor’s expression seemed caught somewhere between complete awe, and utter befuddlement. He almost seemed like he was waiting for V to take back what they were saying, to realize that if Viktor wanted to, he could have dropped them in an instant with a well placed blow, but they just cross their arms over their chest and looked proud of what they had said. That stunned look on Viktor’s face melted into one of admiration for the gutsy little street punk in front of him.

“Oh… I like this one Jackie.” Viktor said, leaning against the bar just a little as he spoke, and he seemed to be trying to decide whether or not he should make them prove themself or not. Given the fact that there was alcohol involved here, he figured maybe that wasn’t the best idea for them, or potentially anyone else in the bar for that matter. “They’ve got a pair.”

“Ehh, they really do have a wicked arm on them too, for someone who’s untrained anyway. They’re bullshitting hard right now, they know damn well they couldn’t take on a pro like you, but… I’ve seen them throw some nasty punched all the same.” Jackie said with a shrug, and just from his praise alone V felt bolstered, and the look on their face was damn near blinding with pride. The compliments certainly did nothing to quell their ego, and they couldn’t help but puff out their chest just a little. “I think you’d actually be impressed if you saw it, Vik.”

Viktor hadn’t looked away from V since he first began to realize just how daring this little streetpunk actually was, and V was beginning to feel like the man’s eyes were about to burn a damn hole in their skin with how intently he was watching them. The lights from behind the bar had them all cast in a deep green glow, and it hit Viktor just right to let V see his eyes hidden behind the dark lenses of his glasses. They had been locked on their own at first, but it was impossible for V to miss the way they flicked down as he glanced them over.

V wasn’t the toughest, biggest bastard in Night City, not by a long-shot. Their augmentations were a rather pitiful minimum, and with next to no bio-enhancemnts to even begin to compare to some of the cybered up tech heads you could find in the slums, the only person there who was less kitted up was Viktor himself who, as far as V could tell, was tech free. With a painful lack of eddies to their name, all they could really do to even begin to stack against the dangers the city held was to stay in shape, grit their teeth, and give it all they could. They had long since learned that even if you didn’t have the shiniest new implants installed, you had damn well better be willing to walk into a dangerous situation with the confidence of someone who did, or you would get chewed up and spit out in a heartbeat.

But… Viktor wasn’t looking for tech. They could all but feel Viktor’s eyes roaming over them now that their jacket wasn’t in the way like it had been at the clinic. His gaze lingered on their arms, their shoulders and chest, the subtle definition of the muscles hidden under the thin fabric of their T-shirt. V pulled their glass up to take a slow drink from it, the burn of the alcohol distracting them from the nerves the felt itching at the edge of their mind.

“Well, Vik, are you impressed? Like what you see?” They asked lowly, and as soon as they spoke Viktor looked back up at their face.

“Yeah… I mean you look like you’re in pretty good shape, from a glance at least.” Viktor said, clearing his throat as he reached for his glass, quickly bringing it to his lips to take what was really the smallest sip he could. “Next time you come in I’d like to take the time and put you through the wringer, do a full physical and see what we can do to improve on that…” He said, looking down to his glass, and finally V felt like they could breath again. “Not that I really wanna talk business right now, came out to spend time with friends and that’s what I plan on doing.”

“Fair enough, V said, before tapping the back of their hand against Viktor’s shoulder. “Hey, I know Jackie said drinks were on him tonight, but let me get your next one. My way of saying thanks for the work earlier.” They suggested with a lopsided grin on their face, all too charming in their own way.

“I like the way you say thanks, Kid.” Viktor said with a small laugh, not caring if it was a little silly since he wasn’t going to be buying his own drinks either way, but he supposed that it really was the thought that counted. "Last one though, I still gotta work tomorrow so I’m not looking to get drunk tonight.”

“That would be a tall fuckin’ order anyway, getting Viktor drunk. Guy’s got the tolerance of a champ.” Jackie said, before he leaned around Viktor to look at V, and he jabbed a thumb towards the front door of the bar. “V, buy the man his drink and then do me a favor after that, will you? Think my holo slipped out in your car, and you got the key. Fetch it for me?” He asked.

“Yeah, I got you Jack. I gotta step out anyway, I’m expecting deets on a job any minutes really.” V said before waving Pepe down and tapping the spot in front of Viktor. “Another of what he’s having, I’ll send you the eddies in just a second Pepe, I just gotta step out real quick and I’ll be right back. You can keep Jackie as collateral ‘till then.” They said, giving Jackie a playful wink as they passed by, fishing their key out of their pocket before they even reached the door.

Jackie watched them go, leaning back on his stool until he almost looked like he was about ready to topple over backwards until V disappeared from his sight. As soon as they were gone, he leaned forward again and turned towards Vik to smack him on the shoulder a couple of times. It didn’t hurt so much as it just surprised Viktor, making him flinch just a little.

“Viiiik, Viky, come on what was that now?!” Jackie demanded, attempting to smack at Viktor’s arm a few more times before the old ripper pushed his hand away and reached for his freshly refilled glass now that he wasn’t being hit.

“What are you going on about now? Not short circuiting over there, are you?” Viktor asked.

“Damn near thought I was, seeing what I just saw. Was that the one and only Viktor Vektor flirting?” Jackie asked, and the shit eating grin he had on his face made Viktor give a roll of his eyes and shake his head.

“I don’t flirt, Jack, not anymore. Too old for that kinda thing, you know?” Viktor said, waving Jackie off. “V seems… they seem real nice. I don’t know them that well at all of course, but what little I’ve talked to them they at least seem like they’ve got their head on straight, and if you’ve taken a liking to them, then they probably have a good heart buried in there somewhere too I’m guessing...” He said, pausing for a moment in hopes that would be enough to placate Jackie, but that goofy, almost accusatory grin didn’t seem to falter from his face. “Fuckin’ get over it Jackie, you’re seeing things that aren’t even there.”

“What about that fancy new rig you set up in their head earlier? Processors don’t come cheap, even older ones.” Jackie pointed out. “They mentioned that they wanted to pay you back for it… bet you didn’t even ask them to though, did you?”

“I’d just rather make sure I actually get to see them for a second appointment than worry about eddies.” Viktor said. “Wasn’t even the newest model, doubt I would have had anyone coming in looking for it, and I really doubt I’ll miss it.”

“...Well, you sure as hell won them over with that smooth move, I can tell.” Jackie said, the smile finally fading from his lips just a bit as he glanced over his shoulder towards the door. He could see V through one of the cracked front windows, kicking the door to their car shut while looking down at their own holo, responding to some texts by the look of it. They were still looking down at the device when they started back towards the bar entrance.

“Mm...” Viktor glanced over when the door chimed with V’s re-entrance. “Like I said, forget it.”

As soon as V made their way over, they stood between the both of them and sat Jackie’s holo down in front of him, and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “Hey, listen, hate to bounce already but I just got word from one of my fixers about a sweet gig. Should be easy work for a decent chunk of change. Figure it would probably still be best if I can see straight going into it though.” They said, looking to Jackie. “I warned you that I would probably be dipping earlier than the two of you anyway.” They said. They just narrowly missed the little frown that Viktor had on his face upon hearing that V was heading out, probably to get into some sort of trouble elsewhere. Jackie didn’t

“Fine, fine, you’re free to go. Dunno what you’re up to, but try not to catch a bullet, alright? I kinda need you for this next job, alright?” Jackie said with a little snicker, grunting at the hard swat V gave him on the back. “Hey play nice now! S’what you get for saying you’re better friends with my Mama than you are with me. Now scram, V, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, of course, we’ll rock it out OK Jackie? I’ll give you a call first thing in the morning.” V said, letting their hands slip away from the two, before pointing at Viktor as they began to walk backwards towards the door. “Soon as we finish this I’m comin’ to give you what you’re owed, Vik, and maybe we can talk shop about getting a few more fancy toys installed?”

Viktor lifted his head just a little when V spoke to him, and he nodded. “Sure thing, V, just call ahead and I’ll be sure to make some time for you as soon as you’re ready.” He promised, giving a little wave before he finished off his glass that had been ordered for him, setting it aside to be cleaned up while he and Jackie caught up.

V turned on heel and headed out after that, with Jackie watching them until they got in their car and drove away, headed off for what he could only hope wasn’t too dangerous of a mission if they were going to tackle it themselves. As soon as V was gone though, Jackie looked back over to Viktor.

“You’ll make some time for them, Vik? Squeeze ‘em in?” Jackie asked, elbowing Viktor lightly, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

“Shut it, Jackie, before I wire your jaw shut myself.”

#Cyberpunk 2077 #Viktor Vektor #Victor Vektor #Victor Vector #viktor vector #My Writing #Reupload

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zkfanworkweek · 4 years

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ZFAW Content Creator Interviews: @PokiDokies

Hey everyone! We hope you’re all excited for ZFAW, and to honor (ha!) ZFAW’s commitment to supporting and celebrating fan content creators in the Zutara fandom, we’re going to be rolling out a series of interviews with well-known and widely-beloved content creators over the next few weeks. We’ve got artists and fanfiction authors, some names you recognize as well as a few phenomenal up-and-coming talents, and we can’t wait for you to meet them all!

For the fourth interview in this cycle, we have up-and-coming artist Lev, aka @pokidokieships - she can also be found at @pokidokies on Instagram and @zk_dokies on twitter!

1. Tell us about how you came to ship Zutara. What does this ship mean to you?

Zutara has been a ship that I have loved for a long time, but it wasn’t always that way haha. When I first watched the show, I was really young and I just went with kataang because it was canon in the end. When I got a bit older and rewatched the show, I was instantly drawn to zutara and the incredible wasted potential it held. I discovered tumblr and read tons of well written meta (because I am a nerd) that explained why their relationship worked so well. I also noticed what had become of Katara, a character I admired very much growing up, and wasn’t too happy about that. Zutara portrays such a balanced and dynamic relationship, with mutual growth on both ends. It is a relationship built on redemption, understanding and sacrifice and I just think that’s beautiful. It also involves a strong brown female character, and I would have loved to see her in a relationship with someone who treated her as an equal. Someone who was willing to help her get closure regarding something so traumatic in her life and even risking his life for her. I’m a Katara stan first and I feel like zutara is a healthy relationship that does not take away her agency as a character. She is allowed to be angry and hurt, and I liked that we got to see that side of her and see that Zuko did not judge her in that state, and be there by her side. We have also seen how Katara is emotionally supportive when Zuko is in doubt. I believe Zuko and Katara deserve the best and that is each other.

2. What inspires you to create zutara fanworks?

The revival of the ATLA fandom made me fall back really deep into this ship. Unfortunately, I noticed that it was getting a lot of hate and there wasn’t much new content being generated for this ship. I also noticed a lot of people misunderstanding why people like this ship, stating very shallow reasons and using it as an excuse to bash people who like it. So, I decided to create the zutara content that I wanted to see. I like to Katara and Zuko in a really cute and healthy relationship in my art, because these kids have been through so much. I never expected so many people to like it though! That was such a pleasant surprise and I could not be more thankful! I got really involved with the zutara fandom and made so many friends through my art and mutual love for the ship. This support, along with my love for this ship, inspires me everyday to make content for the pairing. Happy to announce that there will be a lot more zutara art to come!

3. Be selfish - if you could request one fanwork based on your own art/fanfic, what would it be? What would you absolutely love to see someone create?

To be honest, if anyone wrote fanfiction based on one of my drawings I would be over the moon! Most of my drawings of the pair are scenes that I make up myself or are based on popular zutara headcanons. I would love to see someone write a fic that incorporates those scenes/headcanons and expand on them a little more. If anyone ever decide to do that, let me know

4. Any words for people who are new to the fandom and/or nervous about sharing their work for the first time?

My advice would be, no matter how nervous you are, just post it. Just put it out there! I guarantee that your work would make, at the very least, one person super happy. If you love a fandom/ship/character and create something out of that love, it will show in your work. People will appreciate that. Another important thing is to make content that YOU want to see! Sometimes, you gotta feed yourself because nobody else caters to your niche interests. Trust me, it makes everything more fun when you look at it that way.

5. What is your favorite Zutara-related thing you’ve made and why is it special to you?

My favourite Zutara art that I’ve made is one that I drew for day one of Zutara Week 2020. The prompt was “Reunion”. I had made a few zutara drawings before this one, but I especially loved this because I was able to create an expression of utter love on Zuko’s face as he held his arms

out to embrace Katara. I also loved how Katara looks so excited to see him haha. For some context, Katara and Zuko barely interacted in the comics that came after the show ended (and we all know why). So, I decided to draw these two in the outfits they wore in the comics! This was also the first prompt of Zutara Week 2020, so I wanted to make it really special. Realistically, these two would be so busy after the war. They probably write letters to each other and when they finally reunite, they would be ecstatic. I drew a second picture of them already embracing as a little treat hehe. The soft colours and the fondness between the two makes it the favourite drawing I’ve ever done!

6. What’s an idea for a fanwork that you have but haven’t gotten around to making?

There’s actually so much that I have planned! One good thing about zutara not being canon is that the fandom has come up with so many cute headcanons! Zutara is a ship filled with so much potential so there’s just so much content to make. I haven’t gotten around to designing their steambabies yet, so I have that planned. Mama Katara and Papa Zuko is a concept that cann be so personal to me. They would make such good, loving parents. You can definitely look forward to some cute family drawings in the future. Maybe draw the whole family playing with some turtle ducks by the pond? Their kids would be so beautiful too I can’t wait to design them! I have more stuff planned of course, but this is a concept that I have been wanting to do for a while now hehe.

7. Are you participating in ZFAW? If so, want to give us a hint as to your plans? 👀

I am not sure if I’m going to participate in ZFAW, only because I may be busy with university projects at the time. However, I may try and do one or two of the prompts if I have the time! I plan to make everything cute and fluffy as usual, and maybe a little angst too.

#interviews #zfaw #zutara fanworks appreciation week #zutara #pokidokieships

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sweatersexual · 4 years

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In Gravity Falls, You Abduct the Aliens

Read on AO3

Read the previous work in this series

“This,” proclaimed Stan, “is not a house.” He waded through the piles of books, papers, and weird gadgets. “Seriously, who keeps a chalkboard in their living room? This is more like some kind of nerd lair.”

“I prefer to think of it as my own research lab that I have all-hours access to, but the term lair does lend a certain ambience,” said Ford.

Stan picked up a deformed skull that looked like it belonged to some kind of rodent. “This feels like the intro to a horror movie. With a plucky pair of teen heroes to terrorize and giant switches to a zappy doomsday device, you’d be all set.” He started playing with the skull’s jaw hinge.

Ford reclaimed the skull from him. “Well, it’s no doomsday device, but once I get the portal in the basement working, it’ll be plenty ‘zappy,’ as you say.”

Right, the portal. Ford had talked about it a lot on their drive up from Vegas, where the two of them had happened to run into each other and ended up reconciling. Ford seemed preoccupied by how he’d build the thing without his old flame, Fiddleford McGucket. Ford had invited him to join them in Gravity Falls as well, but when the two nerds realized they still had the hots for each other, Fiddleford had decided to do right by his wife and kid and stay in Palo Alto.

Stan, on the other hand, might be no mechanical engineer, but he was smart enough to realize there was more to this portal business than Ford was telling him.

“Man, you really have a one track mind when it comes to that portal, huh? You were even talking about it in your sleep while we were driving up here. ‘So sorry, shouldn’t’ve let my personal feelings get in the way. . . . ‘S only a temporary setback . . . won’t let all our hard work go to waste . . .’ Has somebody else been helping with the portal?”

Ford nervously spun the skull around in his hand. “Really, Stanley, it’s silly to read too much into sleep talk. I could’ve been talking about anything.”

“Come on, Sixer. If you’re gonna lie to me, you gotta try harder than that.”

“Don’t you trust me, Stanley?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I do, but . . . I don’t want you to think I’m crazy.”

Stan put a hand on Ford’s shoulder. “Listen, bro. I’ve been all over the world. Whatever it is, I’ll understand.”

Ford sighed. “All right, I’ll try to explain. But first, let me go get something. A visual aid, if you will.”

A few minutes later, he returned, having replaced the deformed skull with a ceramic jar in his now gloved hands. “I was lucky to get my hands on this,” Ford told him. “The Northwests hoard just about all the artifacts they can find. Please avoid touching it, I don’t have any disposable five-fingered gloves to protect it from the oils on your hands.”

He presented the design on the jar to Stan, who was doing his best to show Ford he didn’t think he was crazy. The picture was of a man with an animal pelt on his head talking to a triangle with one eye. “Don’t tell me you got recruited by the Illuminati or something,” said Stan.

“No, I haven’t joined any secret societies,” Ford assured him. “This depicts a man named Modoc from three thousand years ago, seeking wisdom from an ancient being. From time to time, this being presents himself to truly singular minds, giving them divine insight and knowledge. And now this Muse has chosen me.”

“Okay,” said Stan. “So you’ve gotten into some kind of niche religion. It’s not that weird. Just don’t drink the Kool-Aid, all right?”

Ford set the jar down on what little empty space his dining room table had left. “I haven’t joined a cult, Stan. I mean, it is a kind of spiritual experience, talking to my Muse, but there’s no organized religion involved. Ever since I summoned him, he manifests himself in my dreams. I never could’ve gotten this far in my investigations of Gravity Falls without him. And he’s helped me come up with the plans for this portal. I know it sounds strange, but there really is something otherworldly about him. And even if he is somehow all in my imagination, the inspiration has never steered me wrong.”

Stan’s bullshit-o-meter was going off, but not because he thought Ford was lying to him. Stan knew his twin’s tells, and Ford was definitely sincere about this muse thing. He couldn’t take Ford’s words at face value, but he could tell that Ford was really going out on a limb here, being honest about something that could get him called a quack at best or institutionalized at worst. So what if the guy was in his thirties and had an imaginary friend? Let him have his weird triangle dreams if it made him happy.

So Stan simply said, “Hey, whatever floats your boat, poindexter. But now that I’m here, you’re not just some weird hermit living in the woods. We’re a family. And families live in homes, not nerd lairs.”

Ford blinked, seeming surprised that Stan had changed the subject. But he went along with it anyway. “Right. Well, I have been meaning to organize everything for awhile now. My research keeps getting ahead of me. But I’ll probably be able to think better without so much clutter around.”

It didn’t take long for the twins to settle into a routine. Mornings were for cleaning and organization. After lunch, Stan would run errands while Ford struggled building his machine in the basement. Stan never imagined he’d get so excited about yard sale curtains and other furnishings, but after so many years never having a permanent place of his own, he relished the chance to decorate his own living space. Afternoons and evenings were dedicated to finding and studying anomalies, then Stan tried to persuade Ford to go to bed rather than get back to work on the portal again. He was rarely successful.

“I owe it to myself to at least stumble along with the limited mechanical knowledge I have,” said Ford. “And maybe I’ll find someone or something else that can help.”

Stan did try to help, but it took so long for Ford to even explain what he was trying to do, and it was so boring listening to him speak nothing but jargon, and Ford just didn’t think the way Stanley did. Stan would probably have better luck just taking Ford’s plans and trying to decode them himself, either way it would take ages. Instead he simply figured out how to use a welding torch and applied it where Ford told him to.

But Stan’s favorite hours were spent running through the woods with his brother. He had never expected to see a gnome for himself, or play with magic size-altering crystals. About one week into his stay, Ford was over the moon to find a sleeping gremloblin. “I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to study one up close like this!”

Stan helped take samples and measurements (it really was remarkable how heavy a sleeper this gremloblin was), then helped himself to his favorite toffee peanuts while Ford finished scribbling in his journal. Rustling in the bushes behind him turned his head, and before he knew it a red and black creature was running away from him, and the toffee peanuts that had fallen on the ground were gone.

Ford snapped to attention, too. “Did you see what that was?” he asked Stan.

“Something with a duck bill.” Stan held up his snack. “It was trying to get these.”

Ford grimaced. “I suppose there’s no accounting for taste.”

Stan rolled his eyes. Ford was so dramatic about his distaste for Stan’s favorite snack.

“Can I try to lure it back out?” asked Ford, reaching for the toffee peanuts.

“Fine.”

Once they had gotten the creature to reemerge, Ford was back to scribbling in his journal. “So the plaidypus legends are real! Fascinating, fascinating. Is it just me, or do you think it smells like maple syrup and bacon?”

They were able to track the plaidypus back to its burrow on the marshy banks by the creek, where they found a clutch of flannel-patterned eggs. To improve upon their fantastic luck, they had arrived in time to watch the eggs hatch.

“Look at that! They only have the horizontal stripes now, the vertical stripes must come in as they grow - did you get the measurements on that last one, Stanley?”

“Yeah, but what do you think the deal is with that one?” Stan pointed to a blue egg that hadn’t yet hatched.

“I have no idea. I’m not even sure that’s a plaidypus egg.”

Ford turned out to be extremely correct when the blue egg did hatch and a slimy white monster popped out.

“What the hell is that thing?” asked Stan.

Ford replied, “I’ve never seen anything like it,” then gasped when the monster mutated into another baby plaidypus. “It’s a mimic!”

“Wait - which one is it?” asked Stan.

Ford cursed. “I should’ve been paying closer attention.”

The shapeshifter soon revealed itself when instead of latching on to the mother plaidypus’s lactating glands, it sank its teeth into another baby plaidypus. “No!” cried Stan as he picked up the imposter and pried its jaw open. “Bad shapeshifter thing!”

Ford tended the baby plaidypus’s wounds while Stan wrestled the shapeshifter into a containment jar, where it resumed its original pale, slimy form.

The study of this creature quickly set Ford into what Stan liked to call Full Nerd Mode. They hardly seemed to get through a conversation without Ford bringing up how “Shifty”, as he’d nicknamed the thing, changed his DNA when he changed forms, and how the implications from that would revolutionize the field of genetics, or asking for suggestions for safe forms to add to Shifty’s repertoire. Stan had to admit it was nice to see his brother obsess over something other than that portal for once, though if he had his way he could think of several ways for Shifty to aid with some under-the-table schemes.

“Stanley!” Ford had chided him when Stan had joked about the idea. “You have a job with me now. You don’t need to get into more trouble with the law.”

Yeah, that had been weird, getting an actual, legitimate paycheck for once, and with his brother’s signature no less. And it really was quite a lot considering that Stan didn’t need to pay rent or anything. But Stan couldn’t help that niggling doubt in the back of his mind questioning whether he had enough, whether Stan’s luck might still run dry and he’d better get as much as he could while the getting was good -

Stan had simply shrugged at his brother. “A side hustle never hurt anything,” he said. “And with Shifty’s help, we wouldn’t get caught.”

“I’m afraid it’s out of the question,” Ford had insisted. “We wear masks around Shifty for a reason, you know. It’s too dangerous to have him impersonate humans.”

And Stan could see the wisdom in that, but even so, he thought he did a good enough impression of his brother to recognize the second-rate performance Shifty would put on. The little monster couldn’t even talk!

That last assumption was proven wrong one afternoon while they were working on the portal and a high-pitched voice called out, “Beans!”

Ford’s head perked up from his schematics. “Did you say something?” he asked Stan, who shook his head.

Stan pointed to the dog kennel where they kept Shifty. “I think it was -”

“Beans!” the voice repeated, and it was definitely coming from the kennel.

“Remarkable,” said Ford, replacing his mask as he walked over to kneel in front of the kennel, where Shifty could see him. “Are you hungry, Shifty?”

“Beans,” he repeated, “for me.”

“I’ll go get him some,” said Stan. As he climbed the stairs up to the house, he heard Ford ask, “What else can you say, Shifty?”

When Stan returned with the beans Shifty liked so much, the little monster was repeating the brothers’ names. “Stan,” said the little voice. “Ford. Sixer poindexter knucklehead.”

Ford laughed. “Very good, Shifty. Those are some other names we call each other.”

“Who am I?” asked the shapeshifter. Stan felt his mouth drop open. That wasn’t the sort of question a parrot asked . . .

“Why, you’re Shifty,” said Ford without a trace of the trepidation Stan was feeling just then. “Stan has brought you those beans you wanted, Shifty.”

“Beans!”

When he was done eating, Shifty went back to asking questions. “Who am I? Who is Shifty?”

“Speaking in full sentences already,” said Ford. “This is really quite incredible.”

“He’s asking if he’s a person, Ford.”

“Stan, don’t anthropomorphize him. Even parrots can repeat phrases -”

“Parrots don’t ask existential questions like that! And besides, when have we ever said anything like that around him?”

Ford frowned. “I’ll need to collect more data -”

“This isn’t about data, Ford!” Stan gestured to the kennel. “That’s a kid! A weird monster kid, but still a kid. And we’re keeping him in a cage. Take it from someone who’s been to prison.” At that, Ford glanced up at him in surprise, and Stan looked away. “It does things to you.”

Ford stammered, “Stan, I - I didn’t know - you never said -”

“I don’t like to talk about it,” said Stan. “And anyway, this isn’t about me. This is about him.”

Ford nodded. It was a moment before he answered, “Well, I will need to do more tests, and we do need to keep his abilities under control, but -” Stan opened his mouth to argue, but Ford placed his hand on Stan’s shoulder in a calming motion - “but . . . your concerns have merit. Even a parrot would need a more stimulating environment than this. Will you help me whip something up for Shifty?”

Stan grinned. “Of course.”

With Stan’s help, Ford was able to construct a walled-off enclosure in the basement, which Shifty took to happily. When Ford was able to determine that the burrow Shifty made in the corner was a bed and not an escape route, he found he could breathe much easier.

Ford spent an increasing amount of time in the enclosure, testing Shifty’s language and cognitive skills. Soon he had an impressive amount of data confirming the shapeshifter’s intelligence. Shifty was always eager to participate in the “games,” as he referred to them, and responded very well to Ford’s praise. Ford had to admit he also enjoyed designing activities to keep Shifty occupied while Ford was working on other projects. These activities usually took the form of a puzzle or scavenger hunt, with chicken nuggets as prizes.

Shifty was also making great strides in learning to read. Ford had picked up a number of secondhand children’s books, but only ones that contained no illustrations of humans or dangerous animals for Shifty to take the forms of. This still left him with a wide variety of benign anthropomorphic animal characters like Frog and Toad, Frances, and Little Critter, many of whom became common forms for Shifty to take.

Eventually Ford felt comfortable enough for Shifty to have supervised playtime in the house and walks around the yard, but he and Stan always stayed masked and kept Shifty from seeing any people or dangerous animals.

On one such occasion, Stan was keeping an eye on Shifty upstairs while Ford was getting in some work on the portal. A loud thump from the floor above broke Ford’s focus, and a second had him scrambling up the steps, adjusting his mask as he went. The last thing he expected to find in the living room was two elephant seals.

“You didn’t tell me humans can shapeshift too!” said one of the elephant seals.

“What? Shifty? Are you saying Stan turned into this elephant seal right here?”

The other elephant seal groaned, a grumbling, braying sound.

“Elephant seal,” Shifty repeated. His high voice sounded comical coming from such a blubbery monster. “I like being an elephant seal. I’ve never been this big before.”

This was a disaster. Ford had never intended to have Shifty turn into such a volatile creature. “I’m afraid elephant seals are too big to be in the house, Shifty. Would you please turn into something smaller?”

“But how come Stan gets to be an elephant seal?” Shifty complained as he morphed into Arthur Read, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“I don’t want him to be an elephant seal either,” said Ford. “Stan? Can you try to turn back? What were you messing with, you know a lot of the artifacts I keep are cursed.”

Stan made a series of grunting seal noises, none of which were in the least helpful.

Ford sighed aggravatedly. “What happened before he turned into an elephant seal, Shifty?”

“Well, we were gonna build a blanket fort, so we got some blankets out of a trunk, then I put one of the blankets on my head and pretended I was a ghost, and Stan did too, only he used the -”

“The sealskin?” asked Ford. “The heavy one with the decorative beading?”

“I think so. He turned into an elephant seal after he put it on.”

“But that one’s cursed!” said Ford. “This is not good. We need to turn him back soon, or he’ll stay an elephant seal forever.”

Stan let out a series of angry honks and grumbles which, if translated to English, would probably be the kind of language Ford would not want Shifty repeating.

As it was, Shifty shrank into a field mouse, his ears meekly tucked behind his head. “What can we do?” he asked. “How do we change him back?”

“I’ll need to consult my journal,” said Ford. “I think I found a curse breaking spell somewhere . . .”

Ford tried to flip through journal 2 quickly, but had to pause every time Shifty climbed up to his shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the pages.

“Cut it out, Shifty,” he said, setting Shifty back on the ground for the third time. “You’re slowing me down, and time is of the essence.”

“Why don’t you trust me?” asked Shifty.

“Come now, you know my journals are off limits,” said Ford. “Why don’t you make sure Stan doesn’t wreck the coffee table, hmm?”

A few minutes later, Ford found the page he was looking for. “Vis maleficiis expello. Fundere atque fugare in pacem. Purgare. Purgare. Purgare,” he chanted over Stan’s blubbery form.

Nothing happened.

Ford rechecked the journal entry. “Did I miss something? Let me try that again.”

The second attempt was no better than the first.

“This curse is clearly more malignant than I thought,” said Ford. “A simple spell is simply not up to the task. We’ll need to try something with a little more oomph to it.”

“Can I help?” asked Shifty.

“You can,” said Ford, “by waiting very patiently in your room while I take Stan to meet an acquaintance of mine.”

“But I can do more!” Shifty protested. “I’m sure I can.”

“I’m sorry, Shifty, but I’m afraid the risk is too great.”

“But what if he gets stuck as an elephant seal forever and it’s all my fault?”

“Shifty . . .” Ford was surprised Shifty had developed such an attachment to Stan, and a sense of responsibility. Though as far as Ford was concerned, it was entirely unwarranted. “I don’t blame you for any of this. If Stan had been more careful -” Stan snorted at that - “or if I had clearly labeled which items were cursed,” Ford conceded, “that is to say, this was just an accident. You don’t need to feel guilty.”

Shifty seemed to accept that, “But I still want to help. If you let me go with you, I promise I’ll be good. I’ll do what you tell me, I promise.”

Ford shook his head. “Shifty, it really will be more of a help if I’m not having to watch out for you while we’re undoing the curse. Don’t worry, I’ve dealt with phenomena far more malignant than this. Why don’t I refill your octahedron puzzle, hmm?” It was one of Shifty’s favorites. “By the time you’re done with it, we’ll be back, and Stan will be in his right shape again.”

Once Ford had started a reluctant Shifty on his puzzle, and gathered a few materials he thought might be helpful for curse breaking, Ford and Stan started hiking over to the lake. Well, Ford was hiking. Stan was doing more of a hobble. Ideally they would drive over, but the El Diablo wasn’t built to cart around elephant seals, and Stan wasn’t too keen to try.

“We’re going to summon a siren I’ve had some dealings with,” Ford explained to Stan. At his questioning look, Ford added, “She’s safe, don’t worry. We may have had . . . some miscommunications, at first, but we’re on good terms. Doripea’s been an excellent source of information. I just hope she’s not too busy.”

To their good fortune, she wasn’t. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite gentleman caller,” Doripea greeted Ford. Her angular face and pointed ears add to the mischievousness of her grin, aided in its brightness by the afternoon sun reflecting off her turquoise scales. “Here for another interview date?”

“Ah, sort of?” said Ford.

Stan’s snorts sounded an awful lot like laughter.

“Oh, I figured out Ford was gay pretty quickly,” she told Stan, apparently in response to a comment Ford hadn’t been able to understand. “What I couldn’t figure out was why he kept trying to summon me with a suitor’s call.”

Ford groaned. “The summoning instructions in Eatherena Aquatica didn’t specify -” He was cut off by Stan’s repeated laughter. “Anyway, I was hoping I could get your input, Doripea. You see, we’re in a bit of a pickle.”

“Aside from the shapeshifter stalking you?”

“What?” Ford whirled around, zeroing in on a deer which had frozen in place with a wide-eyed, panicked expression. “Shifty, I told you to stay in your room!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” cried the deer. “I just wanted to make sure Stan was okay! Please don’t hate me.”

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Ford realized he wasn’t wearing a mask, meaning Shifty could now take his form if he wanted. Who knew how many people or dangerous animals Shifty had come across while tailing them to the lake? How could Ford possibly do damage control on this?

“You don’t have to panic,” said Shifty. “I said I’d be good if you let me come. I’ll do what you tell me, just please, I couldn’t just wait around doing nothing.”

“Amazing,” said Doripea. “You tamed it. I didn’t even know their kind could talk.”

Ford turned to her, curiosity suddenly overcoming his concern. “You’ve seen other shapeshifters before?”

She shrugged. “Not in a long time. It’s been, what, a century and a half? I saw it come out of its burrow to feed every now and then, but for the most part it kept to itself, I think.”

“Strange,” said Ford. “Shifty has tested well when it comes to social behaviors. It’s hard to determine such things with only one extant specimen, but I would’ve guessed his kind to be pack hunters.”

“As far as I know, only one of them has existed at a time. Can’t pack hunt without a pack,” said Doripea.

“Hmm.” Ford would have to examine the implications of this later, but for now, “Shifty, you can stay, as long as you keep close to me and stay in deer form unless I tell you otherwise, got it?”

“Okay.”

“Now, Dora, the reason I came to call on you. My brother here mishandled the selkie’s revenge and I was hoping you could help me change him back to human form.”

“How long has he been in seal form?”

“No more than two hours.”

“Oh good, you caught it early. Stan, you don’t feel any strong urges to swim in this lake, do you?”

To Stan’s grunts she replied, “Well, if you get any, resist them. This curse is designed to turn you into an elephant seal in mind as well as body. Swimming in the water will kick start that process. You’ll be drawn to the other elephant seals, and before you know it you’ll be on the wrong side of a territorial beachmaster. You’re lucky we’re so far inland, and that it isn’t mating season.”

“I tried a simple curse breaking spell, and when that didn’t work I thought we would need something more specialized.”

“You got that right, Stanford. Did you bring any material we could use as a taglock?”

Ford nodded and produced some hair he’d removed from Stan’s hairbrush. Doripea listed a few other ingredients, some of which Stanford had on him, and another she could harvest from the bottom of the lake. She sent them off to gather cedar leaves while she retrieved it.

“See, Shifty, you had nothing to worry about,” Ford reassured him as the three of them set off on their short trek through the forest. “With Doripea’s help, Stan will be back to normal in no time. You didn’t need to break out of your room.”

“I guess,” said Shifty. “It’s just that you and Stan never let me go anywhere. And maybe I didn’t have to come, but now that I’m here, it’s not so bad. Why do you think I’m so dangerous?”

Ford hesitated. How wise was it, to let Shifty know how powerful his shapeshifting abilities were? How easily they could be misused? How much of Shifty’s good behavior was due to his innocence?

Before he could start parsing out his answer, something caught his eye. “Look, there! A cedar grove. Shifty, why don’t you change into bird form and help me gather the leaves?”

Shifty was sufficiently distracted by leaf collecting for the time being. But as they made their way back to the lake with their spoils, something seemed off about Stan. He would stop moving periodically, his head cocked to the east. Then he would shake his head and catch up with Ford and Shifty.

The third time Stan stopped, Ford asked, “What is it, Stanley?” but Stan didn’t seem to hear him. Instead he took off in the eastern direction.

“What are you doing?” asked Ford, running alongside him. “That’s not the way back to the lake!”

“He can’t help it!” said Shifty as he glided through the air above them, still in bird form. “Something is drawing him that way!”

“The river,” Ford realized. “It must be closer to this spot than the lake is! We can’t let him get in the water!”

“Can I turn into an elephant seal now?” asked Shifty, and he whooped gleefully when Ford gave his assent. With an extra burst of speed, Shifty flew several feet ahead of them, then dropped to the ground in elephant seal form. The two bull seals collided, and Stan looked even more frenzied as he tried to evade this new obstacle.

“Stan, don’t hurt him!” cried Ford. “You know Shifty, he doesn’t want to hurt you! Stan, look at me, you know you can’t get in the water! Snap out of it!”

Stan paid no attention to this. Clearly the call of the water was too strong. Was Stan hearing the water? Were there lower vibrations from the gallons of rushing water that elephant seals could pick up, but humans couldn’t? Ford could only think of one way to find out.

Grateful he’d thought to bring an infrasonic transducer, Ford quickly set it to the needed specifications. “Shifty, cover your ears!” cried Ford, demonstrating with his hands.

Shifty found a hole in the ground to duck his head into, just in time for Ford to press the button. Ford couldn’t tell by the sound if it worked or not, because it was far too low for human ears to detect. But Stan let out a cry and dropped to the ground, rubbing his head in the dirt.

“I’m sorry, Stan,” Ford said to the writhing elephant seal. “It was the only thing I could think of.”

“He’s mad at you,” said Shifty, pulling his head out of the ground. “But at least he’s not crazy anymore.”

“And what about you? Are you hurt?” Ford asked Shifty.

“I’m okay. It was kind of fun, wrestling like elephant seals.”

Ford sighed, relieved that Stan had snapped out of his frenzy, and that Shifty was unharmed. “You did very well, Shifty, thank you. I suppose it was good you came after all.”

Shifty turned into a dog, the way he always did when he was happy, and moved as if to lick Ford’s hand, but he paused. “Sorry, I didn’t ask if I could change -”

“It’s all right, Shifty,” Ford assured him. “You got excited. It happens.”

For the rest of their hike, Ford kept his infrasonic transducer handy, just in case the sound of the water got to Stan again. Luckily he didn’t need it. Doripea helped him grind all their gathered ingredients into a thick paste, which they applied to Stan’s body. Then, and only then, was Stan allowed to get in the lake. Ford couldn’t think of a time he’d been happier to see Stan’s face as he watched his brother resurface from the lake. He helped Stan wring his wet clothes out and put them on, then hugged him, unconcerned about getting soaked himself.

That evening, the three of them all ate dinner together, something they’d never done before, since Stan and Ford had always worn masks around Shifty. Eating at the dinner table was new for Shifty, but he took to table manners well enough. Ford could tell it would take some doing to cure him of talking with his mouth full, though.

“Why didn’t you want me to see your mouths and your noses?” Shifty asked around a mouthful of beef.

“We were trying to protect our identities,” said Ford.

“What’s an identity?”

“Your identity is, well it’s who you are? How do I explain this . . .”

“Let me show you something,” said Stan. He ducked into his room briefly and came out with a shoebox. He pulled a few driver’s licenses out of it. “These are fake IDs. Basically they tell everyone that I’m someone I’m not. They’re lies. And they’re illegal.”

“What’s ‘illegal?’” asked Shifty.

“Only the fun stuff, kid.” With a look from Ford, Stan added, “Kidding, I’m kidding! Lots of illegal things can hurt people. Like killing, that’s bad. So the government will punish you for doing those things. If I stole someone else’s ID, I could steal their money, or do bad things under their name, so they would get in trouble and not me. It’s called identity fraud, and humans take it very seriously.”

“So that’s why we didn’t want you to see any human faces,” said Ford. “Because stealing someone’s identity like that is wrong. Do you understand?”

Shifty nodded. “You don’t want me to lie and pretend like I’m a human.”

“Exactly,” said Ford. “You’ve seen our faces now, so it can’t be helped. But if you want to meet other humans, we need you to promise you won’t take their forms, all right?”

“Okay, I promise,” said Shifty. “I won’t turn into you, or Stan, or any other humans. I won’t lie.”

Ford realized he had every confidence Shifty would keep his word.

The following week went much more smoothly, now that Stan and Ford didn’t have to wear masks so much and could take Shifty with them on field expeditions and into town. It started to feel like Shifty was a third, junior member of their team.

Shifty made it clear he thought of it differently, when one night he asked Ford, “Are you my dad?”

Surprised, Ford put down the Little Critter book he’d been reading to Shifty. He shifted uncomfortably at the beseeching look from the red eyes of Shifty’s true form, which he always reverted to when tired or sleeping. “Ah, not biologically, no. I assume you’re referring to my social role as your caregiver?”

“Yeah. You tuck me in at night, like Little Critter’s dad. And we play during the day, and you take care of me. We love each other.”

Ford was surprised at Shifty’s word choice. He’d always found Shifty interesting, at least, and Ford couldn’t deny he’d become quite invested in Shifty’s welfare, but love? How did you quantify such a thing? How did Shifty even know what that meant?

“Isn’t that how human families work?” asked Shifty.

“I - yes, I suppose. I’m afraid it’s not my area of expertise. I never expected to make a human family of my own. I’m still just trying to be a better brother to Stanley.” Ford adjusted the cushion he sat on, next to the opening of the den Shifty preferred to sleep in, rather than a more traditional bed. “But you, Shifty, you’re not human. Why would you want a human family?”

“I dunno. I thought it would make me happy. We don’t have to be family if you don’t want to.”

Shifty curled around himself, rolling deeper into his den, and Ford felt his heart sink. “I do want you to be happy,” he told Shifty. And that was when he knew Shifty had become more than an experiment to him. He had more than a scientific interest in helping this creature learn and grow. He had felt that way for a long time. “You can call me Dad if you want.”

“Really?” Shifty scrambled out of his den, morphing into a dog as he went. His paws rested on Ford’s shoulders, and he nuzzled his soft, furry head into Ford’s neck. Ford reflexively hugged him back, stroking his pelt. “Thanks, Dad.”

The enormity of it hit him then. He was a father now. Another being depended on him, loved him. He was Shifty’s whole world. And Shifty was his.

Ford hugged him tighter. “I love you, Son,” he said.

“I love you, too. Dad.” said Shifty.

When Shifty called him Dad the next morning at breakfast, Stan raised his eyebrows. “Shifty’s your kid, now?” he asked Ford.

“Last night, I asked if I could call him Dad, and he said yes,” Shifty informed him.

“Really?”

Ford tugged at his collar. “Well, he is a sapient child whom I have grown to care and take responsibility for, so. It is appropriate.”

“Huh. Well, Shifty, if Ford’s your dad, that makes me your fun uncle!” He clapped Shifty on the back. “It’s Uncle Stan from now on, all right, kid?”

Shifty smiled back with Little Critter’s buck-toothed grin. “Okay, Uncle Stan.”

“Mazeltov, Sixer!” said Bill. He summoned some lavender balloons that read, ‘It’s a shapeshifter!’

“Thank you, Bill.”

“Hey, I’m just grateful you’re able to make time for me now you’re a working parent and all.”

“I’m sorry, Bill. I know between Shifty and not having the mechanical help I need -”

Bill waved off his excuses. “I told you, a solution for that is in the works. I just don’t want you getting lost in the weeds with individual specimens while your Grand Unified Theory goes unpublished!”

“Yes, of course. I’ll try harder.”

“And anyway, once you get the portal up and running, you’ll be able to find the dimension Shifty comes from. Think of how much you could learn about his species then! Things you should probably know if you’re trying to raise one of them.”

Ford hung his head. “You’re right. When it comes to figuring out Shifty, and what he needs . . . I’m stumbling around in the dark. He’d probably be happier if we made contact with some of his own kind . . .”

“Yeah, well, for now he’s stuck with you, isn’t he? With any luck, he won’t end up resenting you the way you do your dad, right?”

“Of course not! I would never treat him the way our dad treated us.” Despite his indignation, Ford was forcefully reminded of the inhumane way he’d treated Shifty all of a few weeks before, and was ashamed.

Bill clapped a reassuring hand on his back. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll do your best, Sixer.”

The deep midnight blue of the mindscape abruptly faded away, and another voice called out to Ford.

“Get out of his head!”

“Shhh, Shifty, let him sleep, he never takes a minute to rest like this . . .”

Ford opened his eyes and found Shifty in the form of a badger, scrambling to get out of Stan’s grasp. “Dad!” he said. “Did you tell the monster to go away?”

“He thinks something was attacking your brain while you were asleep,” Stan explained.

Ford shook himself awake, annoyed at himself for messing up his schedule like this. He’d only meant to sit on the couch for a minute or two . . . “Come here, Shifty,” he said, and extended his arms to Stan, who handed Shifty over.

Ford stroked his pelt and assured him, “I’m fine. Nobody was trying to hurt me. I was simply speaking with my Muse.” Really, it was quite extraordinary that Shifty seemed able to sense Bill’s presence. “Sometimes he enters my dreams and helps with my research. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Shifty looked unconvinced. “He made you feel bad. Bad shame wrong. He’s yucky.”

Ford gave an explanation that was close enough to the truth. “We were just talking about some of the obstacles setting back my project. It’s not his fault. How could you tell what I was feeling when I was asleep, anyway?”

Shifty looked confused. “You . . . smelled? No, not a smell. I just felt the, you know, the little waves, they tell you what the feelings are. I can’t feel them when I’m asleep, but I was awake. You were asleep.”

“You have a psychic sense for other people’s emotions?” asked Ford. Of course he did. Looking back, it was so obvious. Shifty had always been so confident when talking about how people felt. Ford really should have noticed sooner. “And that’s how you could sense my Muse’s presence?”

“Yes? Is that not something humans can do?”

Ford shook his head. “We can read facial expressions and body language, but otherwise, the only way we can tell how someone is feeling is if they tell us.”

“Is that why you didn’t trust me at first? Because you couldn’t tell I didn’t want to hurt you?”

“Well, yes,” Ford admitted. “I didn’t realize you were a sapient being and I didn’t know what your abilities were, or how you wanted to use them. So I kept you locked up. I’m sorry.”

“Oh. I thought I had done something wrong. I tried to be good.”

“Oh, Shifty . . .” Ford hugged him closer. “You are good. You’re a wonderful kid. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

Shifty must have sensed how guilty Ford felt, because he said, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. I know you love me now.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t deserve to be mistreated,” Stan cut in. “You don’t have to take care of Ford’s feelings. He’s a grown up. We should take care of yours.”

“You’re right, Stan,” Ford agreed. “I know we’re at a disadvantage, Shifty, when it comes to supporting you emotionally. I’m bad at dealing with feelings, even by human standards. But I’ll do my best for you. Will you tell me your feelings so I can help you?”

“Okay,” said Shifty. “I wish you had always been my dad. I wish you had never been mean.”

“Me too,” said Ford.

“I’m glad you said sorry, though. I still love you, anyway.”

“I love you, too,” Ford assured him.

“And I still don’t like your muse. He’s mean, and he’s sneaky.”

“I’m not sure I like him either,” Stan concurred. “When you first told me about him, I didn’t really take it seriously. I’m sorry, it was just really weird. But if Shifty can sense him, and he’s actually real, well, all that stuff you said, about how he only picks one brilliant mind a century and all that? If I were trying to con you, that’s exactly the angle I’d go for.”

“But he’s not a con,” Ford said reflexively. “I don’t think I did a good job of explaining him. If you met him in person, you’d see, Bill is amazing.”

“No no no no no,” said Shifty. “I don’t want him in my head! Promise me you won’t let him in my head.”

“Okay, I promise,” said Ford, alarmed by how much this agitated Shifty. “He won’t hurt you, he won’t hurt any of us. Ever.”

Shifty was still wary, but he accepted Ford’s comfort. Ford could tell Stan had more to say on the subject, though, and he did, after Ford had put Shifty to bed.

“Ford, I’m just saying, your mind is a powerful thing. Letting some supernatural creature inside it is no small potatoes. Whatever you’re getting out of this arrangement you got, make sure he’s not short changing you.”

“Of course he’s not! Look, Stan, if you want to see the truth for yourself, there’s a simple spell you can use to follow him into my mind, next time he’s there. You’ll see, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“All right,” Stan said tentatively. “I might do that. But just ask yourself this, Ford, what is this Bill guy getting out of this? Why does he want you to build the portal so badly?”

“Well that’s simple, he . . .” Ford realized he’d never asked Bill that question before, and he’d never volunteered the information himself. But clearly that just meant his motives were pure, right? “He’s a being of the mind, Stan. Scientific discovery is its own reward.”

“Are you serious?” asked Stan. “You’ve never questioned anything he’s said, have you? I thought you were smarter than that.”

Anger flared in Ford, quick and intense. “You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about! This is just like you, to barge into things you don’t understand -”

“Hey, don’t try to turn this around on me. I’m just looking out for you, like I’ve been doing since day one.”

“I can think of at least one glaring exception.”

“Seriously, Stanford? Are you going to hold that one mistake over me for the rest of my life?”

“It just shows you have a history of ruining my work right when it’s about to pay off. You never cared about the things that are important to me, you’re only interested in chasing your cheap thrills.”

“I never cared about what was important to you? I thought I was important to you! You think I went to prison in three different countries just for the fun of it? I did what I had to, just to survive. Which I’ve had to do for over ten years, while you never bothered to stick your nose out of a book long enough to check on your brother.”

Ford’s seething response melted away at the thought of Stanley shivering, Stanley hungry, Stanley alone. “Stanley, I - I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t care about you. These past weeks with you have meant the world to me. You’re right. I should’ve tried to reconnect with you sooner, and - and I shouldn’t still be blaming you for something you did in high school.”

Stan’s gaze shifted down to his feet. “It wasn’t that I didn’t care about your perpetual motion machine. I really didn’t mean to break it, and I should’ve owned up to what I did and told you instead of trying to fix it myself. I may not understand everything about this portal, but I really do want to help you. It’s just that this Bill guy seems fishy to me.”

“And I told you, you have a chance to talk to him yourself. Will you at least try to keep an open mind about him until then?”

“I will, if you try to keep your mind open to the idea that he may not be what he seems.”

“I . . . suppose that’s fair.”

“Now will you please get some sleep? Between the kid and the portal you’ve been running yourself ragged.”

“It’s not so bad as all that.” Ford tried to shrug it off. “I think if I change the alignment on the oscillator I might get a better charge on the clux fapacitor -”

“It can wait until tomorrow.”

“It won’t take that long to test out. Anyway, I got a nap in earlier, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, a ‘nap.’ Looked more like you passed out from sheer exhaustion. You definitely need more sleep.”

“I can sleep when I’ve published my Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness.” And with that, Ford escaped to the basement before Stan could respond.

Ford didn’t want to admit it, but this whole business unsettled him. Stan was the one person he trusted best in all the world, but Bill was his Muse, the one who not only saw what Ford could be, but gave him the tools to achieve it. Now the two seemed to be setting themselves against each other. Ford didn’t want to think of what the outcome would be, should he be forced to choose between them. He could only hope it wouldn’t come to that.

Read the next work in this series

#stanford pines #stanley pines #gravity falls #found family #fanfic #7500 words #do not tag as stancest

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lucarioisinthevoid · 4 years

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Twitch Streamer AU???

(I planned on pushing out a FEW AU asks, but then realized I don’t even have so many. There’s going to be a FNAC event, but that will be an event, not a specific AU ask, so- I guess this is it! Very cursed AU, thank you very much Anon Small warning for mentions of blood, I think? Nothing too bad.)

Streamers, youtubers, content creators. Some people are all of these, some people are none, and some are just one- because each of them needed a very different talent. Those who could do seemingly everything were few and far between- And they ruled the entertainment scene! Thankfully though, the main three as most called them, were also always out for new content to watch. Thus they boosted those that they saw potential in. With some taking the boost and then going off to do their own thing- And some becoming good friends. It always started with a letter. Mike had the habit to do things on stream, as long as no personal details were not visible on them. He used a false email which he regularly changed, and he generally kept himself as safe as possible. Opening emails on stream could be rather fun, even if it was a risk. Sometimes it encouraged people to send bad things- So to prevent the worst, nothing would be downloaded and all emails containing images would be put into the spam bin. Better safe than sorry, the internet was full of terrible people. This day so far had been successful. And by successful it meant that Mike was SCREAMING. “I HATE SUPER MEAT BOY. I WILL COMMIT VIOLENCE AGAINST MEAT IN A MINUTE. I HAVE A BIG F-CKING STEAK IN THE KITCHEN, AND I WILL THROW IT AGAINST THE F_CKING WALL. I WILL GET A HAMMER.” The chat was going wild, cheering. The chat’s phrase of today was “tender Mikey” and it didn’t help at all. “I DID. NOT. HIT THAT! I DID NOT!” A donation popped up, with a robotic voice. ‘Oh hai Mark!’ “NOT FUNNY! NOT F-CKING FUNNY. I’M SUFFERING HERE AND ALL OF YOU SUPPORT IT. YOU’RE ALL F-CKING MONSTERS HERE, I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT. AND I’M NOT F-CKING TENDERIZING THE MEAT WHEN I SLAP IT AROUND, I’LL RIP IT INTO PIECES AND CONSUME IT RAW!” Standing up, he genuinely went to get it- And fifteen minute later he had slightly calmed down, his hands and room slightly bloody. The chat was still celebrating and donating- another thing that never failed to make Mike BEG them to stop and use the money for something GOOD and SENSIBLE, LIKE THEM-FUCKING-SELF- but he had gotten out most of the energy. “Alright. Alright everyone. ENOUGH. I gotta stop you HERE. It’s email time.” A celebratory jingle played, as Mike booted up the website, opening the inbox. Memes, storytime, I’m-not-fucking-reading-that-and-you-know-it, and- One of the emails caught his- and the chat’s- attention, however. Sender: Fazbear Entertainment Topic: Challenge Needless to say- once again the chat was out of control and this time there was NOTHING Mike could do to stop them. After opening the email, Mike slowly took a deep breath and looked into the camera, between concerned and honored- But that wouldn’t be enough to rip him from his carefully maintained persona. So he audible scoffed- albeit him being unable to hide an excited grin. “Alright bitches and bastards in the audience- we’re firing SuperMeatBoy up again. You won’t be catching ME losing to a pink son of a bitch anytime soon!” After the letter- provided it was accepted and responded to, the production happened. The deal was that a teaser was dropped on the big channel- The entire video itself was put on the smaller one, attracting the viewers over and hopefully make them more likely to want to see the other works the creator had put out. It was a win-win overall, the big channel being able to vary their content, testing the water for new things- and the smaller channel getting a boost and a lot of tips from very experienced creators. Henry and Dave were very generous people. Jeremy was sitting there, taking deep breaths, trying to stay calm. So far, everyone seemed to be rather kind, even if Jeremy was basically a complete nobody. Hell, he never wanted to be anybody. He just wanted to stream himself baking, for those who never had someone baking with them. Because baking could feel stressful, especially when you were missing ingredients or- many reasons, actually. Not only baking, but cooking too- Sometimes playing games on request, but not much in terms of requests ever came in. And now he was here in an actual studio, soon to be seen by an insane amount of people. A cooking competition. Sounded silly- you couldn’t really FIGHT in something like that… But… Henry and Dave had promised it would be fun. And they were nice. With and without the cameras rolling. Speaking off- There they were, approaching, their assistant coming along. He wore a weird phone-head, to ensure his privacy. Or something. It was kinda weird, but he had just accepted the answer he got. “Why, there you are, Jeremy! Would you like to see the equipment we have prepared?” Henry warmly asked, reaching down with his hand to help his guest stand up. “We have gotten a few extra things, just in case.” As they entered the studio, Jeremy’s invisible eyes went WIDE. “Woah- that looks really nice! I love it here! This is high quality stuff-!” “Fantastic!” Pleased Henry opened his arms in his typical theatrical manner- Before being abruptly interrupted by Dave jumping in, halfway over Henry’s shoulder. “ARE YA READY TO GO!? CAMERAS ARE READY!” “Ah- I- I guess- but-“ “YOU HEARD HIM, BOYS! GET IT ROLLIN’!” “W-wait, I don’t even have-“ “Everyone! Welcome to NOTHIN’ AT ALL!” Henry swiftly fitted in, continuing on with the intro. “Todays challenger is the man, the legend, the baker and occasional chef- Jeremy from Baking With Jeremy!” “Wait, what- that’s seriously your channel name, pal?” A bit offended Jeremy looked into the eyes of the people behind the camera. “U-uh- you guys here- I mean- he has literally called his channel Henry Miller! I- uhm- I-“ Snickering Henry put a hand on his guest’s shoulder. “You are very right about that. Say, are you nervous about losing?” “… n-no. I mean- maybe a little. This place here is big and very professional and I’m not used to many people looking at me…” Taking a deep breath, he gave off a nervous smile for the audience. “… yet, I know- it’s a good thing! And as long as everyone has fun, everything will work out!” “Awwwww, look at him!” Dave said, pleased. “You’re so right! We’ll be havin’ fun!” “But also, I will win.” Henry pointed out. “That is when I have the most fun.” Slightly playful Jeremy smiled. “K-keep that attitude, that will make it even easier to blindside you!” Simon whistled, clearly bemused as he held the camera in place- And Henry smirked. “Sure. Anyhow, the stakes are-“ “Steaks? We’re makin’ steaks? I thought we planned on-“ “Dave. I swear to god.” Henry looked at him from the side, before shaking his head. “What is on the line is easy to see- we have roughly an hour to cook the best meal. If Jeremy wins, we will donate 5000 to a charity of his choice!” “And if the young pal loses, he’ll be joinin’ our channel!” Dave chirped. This was news to the brown-haired boy. “W-wait, we never agreed to that-“ “GET TO YOUR STATIONS!” Someone in the back announced. “WHO’S TODAYS FAVORITE?” Simon checked the stream. “The chat says Jeremy is a clear winner. Nobody trusts Henry to keep his two braincells together for long enough to not forget the salt or something.” “Excuse?!” Not only Henry was APPALLED by the chat, Dave joined right in. “Ya guys have NO taste. I’ll be clearly winnin’… but hey, maybe ya peeps don’t know that I plan to cheat!” Surprised Jerry looked over to Dave’s cooking station. “How… how can you cheat at cooking-“ Before he could finish his sentence, he shrieked as Dave pulled out a flamethrower. “HELL YEAH BABY, I AIN’T WAITING 30 MINUTES FOR SOMETHING TO COOK IN THE OVEN, I’LL BE DONE IN FIFTEEN MINUTES MAX!” “W-WAIT THAT DOESN’T SEEM SAVE-“ Henry just raised his hands, cheerful. “Ready… set…” The Phone Guy made eye- well, rotary- contact with Jeremy, slightly raising a fire extinguisher that was by his side. … alright, it seemed the people here were well-prepared for this scenario. So instead he focused on the ingredients in front of him. Almost manic, Henry’s voice rang. “GO!” And… … that was it! Some joined, with amazing results- Mike rubbed his face. “Who thought that was a great idea. I fucking hate this.” Dave next to him on the couch just grinned. “It’s amazin’ what these websites all offer to sell. You won’t be BELIEVIN’ what’s in this box!” “I’M NOT OPENING IT.” “YOU WILL. OTHERWISE IT’LL HUNT YOUR DREAMS. I’LL PUT THIS BOX NEXT TO YOUR BED. YOUR TOILET. ONTO YOUR DINNER TABLE. INTO THE FRIDGE. I’LL ORDER MORE OF THESE BOXES.” “Jesus CHRIST, calm DOWN-“ “I WILL FIGHT YA TO THE DEATH OLD PAL-“ - and some people just went back to the usual pattern, with the occasional raid from Fazbear Entertainment. They asked first, of course. Each of them fulfilled their own niche, each of them had caught Henry’s and Dave’s attention in one way or another. Henry and Dave however- Well, Dave was the varied creator. Henry liked his niche. He played horror, investigated ARGs, read stories about real and fictional crimes against humanity. The world was a terrible place, wasn’t it? Yet he reveled in it. Aside from that he showed extra effects, he built machines and thought everyone one or another thing about creating special effects at home. From dry ice to genuinely ridiculous chain-reactions, Henry showed them it all. Blood too, multiple forms of it, depending on how and where it would be used. Sometimes breaking it off with more light-hearted one-off games and listening to what his community wanted to see… but the most comfortable he was with horror and analysis. He was a youtuber, a streamer, a content creator… … and one thing more. It wasn’t easy to find the code. But his intended audience were a very small amount of people. A small number of strangers. There was no way to know if anyone ever made it to more than one show, but Henry did not care. It wasn’t for them that he did this. Him and William moved down, down below the set, into the lowest regions of the house. The workshop. Nobody really question why you added what to your home if you were a creative person. Even less so if you were a famous, eccentric creator. Yes, the free reign was what he REALLY loved about his job. Maybe he should build his studio somewhere else- But like this it was so much more thrilling! Wordlessly both of them put on their suits. It would hide their identity perfectly- especially the animal heads that contorted their voices a bit. Enough. Today’s participant wore a mask too- another phone head, differently made, different style, but to hide their identity too. However, the voice was in no way muffled. Panicked the person dragged on the chains keeping them attached to the chair. “H-HELLO!? HELLO!? S-SOMEONE- IS SOMEONE HERE!?” A noisy one! Delightful! Both Fredbear and Springbonnie stepped out of the shadows, one form each side. While Springbonnie put his hands gently on the shoulders of the whimpering person, Fredbear stepped in front of the camera, bowing. “Ladies and gentlemen-“ The low voice sounded more like the one of an animal than from a person. Yet it was smooth and comforting. “- I welcome you to yet another installment of our show. I am Fredbear, and over there is my wonderful assistant, Springbonnie. Today we have brought a simple stranger, a nobody who might not even be missed. Thusly I encourage you to truly be creative with your ideas. And while your votes roll in, maybe I point out that next time we will have another little game-show, with quite the effects. We might even get a real bull! You will not want to miss it.” The board above the camera blinked up, as a bitter fight of votes started, everyone wanting to see something else. Three tiers to vote on! Foreplay (light injuries), main course (heavy injury leading to death) and of course what to do with the body. Below it was a little measure for “face reveal”. Some of their viewers really enjoyed seeing the expressions during and after. It came with a risk to Fredbear and Springbonnie, as the victim being recognizable meant their general area of activity was more obvious- thus it was incredibly expensive. They knew there was every now and again law enforcement mixed up between the genuine watchers. It was thrilling too- Yet Fredbear wanted to keep this game alive as long as he could. Thus it was important to hide what they could. Fredbear was a creator first and foremost, an entertainer second- And there was nothing that attracted an HONEST, an UNRESTRAINED, a PURE audience quite like violence. Once blood spilled, humans degraded and it was wonderful. Behind him, the victim began rattling even more erratic. “WHAT- WHAT IS THIS?! LET ME OUT- PLEASE- LET ME OUT- PLEASE- I- DIDN’T DO ANYTHING-“ Burying his hands into the shoulders of Springbonnie downright cackled, enjoying the mania that always accumulated in these situation. “Be still, new friend! The audience HATES too much whining, y’know? And at least you could die with your tongue still intact, wouldn’t that be nicer than having to swallow the thing? Once it almost killed someone, boy, that sure was a bother!” His voice was changed to a cartoonish, upbeat pitch- “While the votes come in, how about we quiz today’s friend… maybe if you are smart enough, they will want you to live! It happened before… o n c e.” Fredbear took out a long scalpel, the face a morbid grimace. “Surprise us!”

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unproduciblesmackdown · 4 years

Note

The opposite of your last post for the ask meme! Like 1, 5, 9..

thank you lol sorry it took me a minute to get to posting these answers......i also skipped a couple that got asked previously via answering all primes lol

1: What inspires you?

hm well just basic stuff like “being in a good mood” lol or “being hyped up by friends” or “having reason to be particularly excited about something” which is all like, factors that Contribute Energy......learning about stuff / trying something and discovering like oh i’m Into this thing, or that for whatever reason something turns out to be more within reach / doable than i might’ve thought, like, hey i wanna get on this maybe.......~creatively~ it’s great to like, see other ppl’s art, and while i’ve sure been Inspired by professional artists, overall i’m more like, influenced and motivated by seeing the styles / specific works of Online Randos like me.......i also Draw to create [self-indulgent (usually fairly) niche fanart which is also probably gay and is all the time of characters i like] so like, the Stuff I Wanna Make Fanart Of (which has Whatever characters i specifically would like to draw lol) is sure directly Inspiring in that way. i’d say i never had that experience of like, ppl being kids and seeing some [distributed work in a certain art medium] like oh i want to make my own [distributed work in a certain art medium] as in like, i wanna publish a book, i wanna make movies, etc, but i guess i Did b/c i was like elementary school age in the early-to-mid 00s and experienced some instances of online fanart like :o :o wow damn ppl can do that?? just be a rando drawing fanart and sharing it w/ other people online???? and today i am living that dream, so good for me lol. and also i’d like to shoutout marge simpson anime, which is a particular piece of Online Art (technically fanart even lol) which was like, unusually Motivating as a single work of art lol, i made a notes app fanart like immediately and then a way more “painterly” piece of fanart that was v directly inspired by it lol.......and i was sure Drawing It Up last last winter when bmc 3.0 was impending / happening, b/c i got into like Just in the dec before, so that was Fresh, and then bam the Content is happening concurrently and as soon as we even just learned that jeremy has glasses i immediately spent like honestly 25 consecutive hours making fanart for that exact Inspiration. we didn’t even know abt the hello kitty shoes yet!!! and naturally im not out here for stats or clout but it is Inspiring when ppl enjoy the stuff i make and let me know one way or another. [tag comments that express enthusiasm in any way.....Appreciated]

9: Do you trust people easily, or do people have to earn your trust?

i have to say i am wary! that’s in part just like, a default anxiety defensive mode lol. but it takes me a hot minute (aka weeks....or months.....) to realize when someone like, would like to be friends or something, so while i can be Friendly and Outgoing w/ people like, immediately, i’m not picking up relationships left and right that are close enough that i’d particularly talk about “trust” or whatever. i’m not necessarily Distrustful either lol, it’s more just like, again re: the constant wariness thing. it is not unlike a cat lmao i vibe with them lol i Get that [approach]....and there’s been times i’ve been like “hmm i sure do Not vibe with this person ever and am not comfortable around them / interacting with them to any extent beyond occasional casual interactions that i don’t super enjoy. that’s me being overly anxious and failing to be personable i guess!!” and then that person Does give that reason down the line like oh, actually, that eternal uneasiness was warranted :/ damb

21: How does someone become friends with you?

yknow i was like “didn’t i Also answer this one previously” but it turned out the question i was thinking of, which i Had answered, was “how does someone become important to you” lmao.....same diff

tbh it’s kind of an arduous process lmao like. first of all i am Bad about initiating shit, and a lot of times will like, be wary of Directly Interacting with people for a while b/c i am also Bad At not being too passive / unwilling to assert anything so like, if someone’s regularly interacting with me but i’m not into it / Eventually Realize i’m not into it, it’s that thing again where my main strat is [v gradually sidle away] lol and just find it difficult to extricate myself from interactions / relationships and so that plays into me really feeling like i have to have some real confidence that i’d get on with / vibe with someone Before i start significantly interacting with / getting involved with them which....is also difficult natch lol like. can’t rly get a great feel for what someone’s like w/o talking to them.......but then if i Distance myself at all at any point will that be taken as rejection or whatever.......and then anyways say i Am talking to someone, then it’s like, also i’m just not fantastic at casual conversation always and that stage where you don’t know someone too well and talking is mostly a Polite Ritual and it’s like oh god don’t mess up, respond Normally lmaoo......i am nervous. and i also have a tendency to just naturally try to make an interaction go smoothly than immediately prioritize / feel comfortable busting out My Personality lmao.....so then even if ppl are responding well enough it’s like ah jeez i know we’re all performing always but have i shown them What I’m Actually Like to any significant degree, am i just masking it up / mirroring the crap out of how they talk?? and also it then takes me quite a while to put together “if someone keeps talking to you / choosing to interact with you for like, weeks, it probably means they want to / are interested in doing so” lol.........and then i’ll take ages more of trying to consciously Be More Myself without *also* feeling like this is too much of an act lol, and gradually picking up like oh they’re still not like, annoyed or disinterested or something..............what i am trying to say is it sure takes a minute lol

also when i Am attempting sometimes to like [initiate interaction] with people my version of being Active is still not all that active lmao i will be like [occasional Like] or [even more occasional reply] or [tag comments or no comments coz it’s twitter and im rt-ing stuff] and it’s like oh wow if we’re not having more regular interaction i suppose i’ve failed or something?? does this mean anything further lol, did i do anything.....but welp gotta have that perspective that Not Necessarily lol and i’m not the only person in the world who might not make friends or even friendly acquaintances easily / at the drop of a hat and u can’t necessarily read way into shit that hasn’t Actually been communicated to you.......naturally though it is easier to have some ~perspective~ and Serenity about all this sort of thing when you do already have some Friends lmao........been feeling (and consciously nudging myself towards feeling) More Chill about say like, friendly acquaintances i have who aren’t raring to interact with me on the reg.......ppl i’ll go months or half a year or more between having a convo with and then we’ll be like trading dm’s for a couple days and then it’s back to not really talking, and that Is What It Is, not necessarily a tragedy, and really it feels “rude” to acknowledge to myself like oh i’m not sure that me and whomever even Vibe well enough that *i’d* be raring to talk all the time either, but hey, it’s also true, i don’t have to be Validated by ppl who know me having me in their friend circles in any significant way......i be out here on the peripheral / outer orbits and i can appreciate that for what it is, even if, again, easier to be more Cool with that when i’m not Only in ppl’s periphery...........i appreciate the pal i have who like, 99% of how we Communicate is occasionally sending each other pics of our cats, not very intimate but also back when i was offline for months on end they eventually went out of their way to find someone to get in touch with to verify i hadn’t like died or anything lol........i appreciate the Gestures of Caring that ppl have and do extend, even if we do not actually talk regularly.

and like also i’m bad at like. idk the main way i talk is again, At Some Length and often about real specific shit lol so im like woop aware that many ppl are not into that, or they might be down for having an exchange like that for a day and then they’re done.........not at all like wholly Against more lol Conversational conversations but i gotta say that’s more of a struggle lmao..........so let’s say befriending me takes some Patience. i kinda operate on [cat] rules. jellicle

25: How do you stop yourself from going back to toxic people?

i absolutely am Refraining from launching off on a ted talk of a tangent that is also me being the [the guy about to throw down a card on the pile on the table and that card pile is like “any conversation” and the guy is labeled “me” and the One Card about to be played is labeled “it’s capitalism” or smthing like that and also it’s all in spanish].jpg.......

anyways idk just try to keep things in perspective, right......i generally am pretty Passive about gradually sidling away from relationships that are bad and so by the time i Have exited them it’s pretty overdue lmao and i get to be quite confident that it was The Right Thing........and just when looking back on stuff it’s like, well if you remember the Good or “Not That Bad(tm)” parts maybe consciously think about the whole of it And specifically the Bad parts / the reasons for peacing out.......also the other day i was mulling over some standard [conflicted / complicated feelings about having cut certain ppl out entirely] and it also occurred to me that a lot of the [conflicted] feeling part came from sympathy for them, whereas from the perspective of Entirely My Own Feelings On The Matter minus that “how do/would they feel about it” consideration, the thought of never interacting w/ these ppl is like. fine with me lol........stuff like this is always Complicated and Individual and there’s certainly no like, one-stop simple Guide To Navigating All This Kind Of Thing, Cmon It’s Easy........another consideration i saw the other day via a graphic on twitter, which is probably most relevant re: say, controlling / abusive Partners, was how like, to think about how someone is acting if they’re saying you should Take Them Back b/c they’ve Changed their behavior, but to pay attention to if they’re trying to guilt you into it / justifying or downplaying their previous behavior / shifting blame and otherwise manifesting the inherently harmful and controlling patterns that are supposed to be gone now........anyways yeah complicated stuff and also just p.s. (and what would’ve been the jumping off point for the It’s-Capitalism tangential essay lol) ppl shouldn’t be blamed if they do choose to let someone back in their life like oh now they’re responsible for bringing their mistreatment upon themself.....no better than blaming someone for, say, having a harmful / controlling romantic partner in the first place like oh well they should’ve known better than to have gotten involved with this person..........ppl are in control of their own abusive behavior and shouldn’t be considered Forces Of Nature no matter how intransigent they are

33: Do you have someone you know you can always rely on?

tbt question 9 lol there’s defo some people that i do trust! love it....

45: Do you consider yourself creative?

another #tbt to question 1 lol.......i mean Yes i am creative in ways but like, who Isn’t, really.......think sometimes “creativity” means “do you like, do Art things” which, yes i do, but then within that there’s art that’s deemed more ~creative~ or w/e......not to mention that i don’t think something has to be definitively labeled an Art to be creative. like, for example, Science and Art aren’t opposites / the antithesis of each other, and anytime defines ~science~ as like, people just memorizing and outputting Facts and Numbers and considers this a distinction from Being An Artist.....wild and i Will fight you lmao. i tell you i can v much remember times i have had to completely disengage to keep from losing my cool at people arguing about “why i respect science but could only be an artist :’|” or “why Art is actually harder than Science and also we’re the underdogs b/c society values science so much more :’|” like.....mf...........anyways scientific pursuits may certainly have a different Methodology (see: scientific method) than art but lbr it still requires creativity and science and art are friends you fucking fools................and then also just zooming in on the Art-Making business here, i also like, have never had any interest in coming up with Original stories / characters and the like, and i don’t enjoy trying and it just really is not my thing, and it’s Funny or something when people wanna say that creative fanworks have value b/c they let ppl cut their teeth for what really matters, inevitably making their own original content(tm)......that isn’t inevitable for me lol and certainly is nothing i aim to do ever, and when there’s the suggestion that if you’re Good enough at ur medium you gotta manifest some of that original the character do not steal shit.........anyways i’m not pressed to claim i am an Artist(tm) or Creative(tm) lol like i guess technically i am both but i have no professional aspirations and my brain does not Do [generate original content] so it’s all like, i’m just out here.........s/o to this time i was trying to do my fuckin thing drawing on a tablet in a cafe and some random annoying guy is trying to talk and i happen to mention like “lol i don’t exactly call myself an artist really” and Guy goes “OH REALLY??? WHAT’S WRONG WITH ARTISTS? WHAT’S YOUR ISSUE WITH ART” like please cool it lmao but god p sure it was a guy who was just. very Around and very annoying in general

49: Do you feel like you’re a good person?

yeah i think i’m alright but really what is the use in like considering there 2 be achievable Good or Bad Person Statuses for everyone........let’s say it’s an ongoing, active state to be in the process of consciously choosing to be Good and working towards Better. especially considering that We Live In A Society which tries to teach everyone and continuously imbues our existence with Bad Messages about how to perceive and engage with other people, and being A Good Person is a lifelong effort and it’s unhelpful to feel that if you’re already Good or well-intentioned enough you can just dust off your hands and be like “well my work here is done” and be unprepared to examine your beliefs/actions or deal with the might-as-well-assume-it’s-an-inevitability that even if u have some noble-ass beliefs you’ll fail to live up to them at some point/s.......so like yeah lol again i feel like i am a pretty good person but can always be better and ought to be aware of / willing to work on that at any point

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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years

Text

I Think He Knows - Orson Krennic x Reader 1 (Rogue One)

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for the request dearest Anon! This was a lot of fun, and I got to come at the relationship from a different perspective. I genuinely... LOVE writing him like this.

This also includes the original ending to Gratitude that I lost and subsequently found in my notebook... And fits in well here! 😊 (But is not the end!)

Disclaimer: Star Wars Characters not mine / Plot is request / I own nothing! / Slight AU Premise (As Requested By Anon ❤ ): I have been thinking a lot about an au with a ofc who is outranking Krennic and at first he kinda hates her, but with time he seems to notice the way she looks at him, secretly helps him. And when he accidentally finds that she was trying to promote him, he’s confused and come to her for answers There might be a slight change on the ending you wanted... But I hope you enjoy anyway 😘😘😘💜💙 Words: 5676 Warnings: N/A... Some mild swearing / drinking

__________

I think he knows his hands around A cold glass Make me wanna know that body Like it's mine He got that boyish look that I like in a man I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans He's so obsessed with me, and boy I understand Boy I understand ...Got that, oh! I mean Wanna see what's under that attitude Like, I want you, bless my soul And I ain't gotta tell him I think he knows I think he knows So where we gonna go? I whisper in the dark Where we gonna go? I think he knows

--- You knew exactly who Orson Callan Krennic was. You’d known all about him since the Futures Programme. Not because you were anywhere near in the same year or class, although, technically you studied the same thing… But because he seemed to show up every so often and flaunt how brilliant he was. Now, you knew the ranking system, so every time you saw him you wondered who exactly he thought he was, and why he’d talk so loud if he was at least as far down the order as he looked. Luckily, you didn’t see him often – but when you’d graduated you’d started working in the same field. Mercifully you didn’t have to work with him, he outranked you and was off in far flung exclusive corners of the galaxy you weren’t going to reach in a hurry, working on projects that at the time you could only dream of being a part of. Only, you didn’t cause problems. You were quiet, you got on with your job and you did it exceptionally well. That earned attention, and luckily the right attention. Because you’d also noticed that every time you heard whispers of Krennic’s name around here it was usually said with distain, and accompanied with all the Galaxy’s gossip about what he was doing to piss someone off this time. The harder you worked, and the more experience you gained – the more niche your skills got, you found yourself becoming indispensable to the Empire. That knowledge swept through your division pretty quick, and soon enough you were stretched to (almost) capacity working on things. People were desperate to have your name attached to anything they could – and now you were a centre of attention that people would back-stab each other to gain on their work. You were careful about that too, and allocated yourself as professionally as possible. What did all this mean for you? Your rank increased, and kept increasing. And suddenly you were sitting in rooms you weren’t supposed to take information out of. That you weren’t even allowed to take equipment into the projects discussed were so secret. In fact – once you passed from one rank into the next you almost stopped hearing Krennic’s name altogether. Because when you walked into a room people stopped talking rumour; just incase you passed it on and they lost their jobs. At first you missed that, but realised quickly that you’d hear it anyway… only now directly from the source. You were almost free to forget about the man entirely. And the first time you ever had to have face-to-face contact with him, in all those years, came as a shock to you. You were sipping coffee in the elevator to your next meeting about another start up project that this time you were expected to head. No problems, you’d lead projects before and you would be trusted to do so with accuracy and efficiency. This one might be a little bigger, but you were confident you could deliver exactly as you were known for. Your assistant was running through the list of assignees to the team and suddenly you found yourself trying not to spit coffee all over the elevator floor; “Sorry, who!?” “Commander Orson Krennic… He’s uh, architecture, intelligence…” “Oh, I know who he is… Did you say Commander?” “Uh, yes. Th- That’s what it says…” He didn’t like the sudden broad smirk that crossed your face as you tried not to look at your own rank bar. You outranked him. You got to walk into a room and look at him and slam your folder down on a table and tell Orson Krennic what to do? Perfect! He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Sure, Krennic had never met you. But he never forgot a face – and when they introduced the project lead he had to check twice. Because this surely wasn’t happening. He remembered you from the Futures Programme. Maybe you’d been in one or two of the lectures he gave; but you always sat with your arms crossed, looking at him like you didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth. (That or downright bored; leaning on your hands the way that you did). And now you outranked him!? Outranked him and were about to order him around on this particular project, of all things? He was looking forward to this one before you’d walked into the room with your rank bar displayed like that. Stars, what did I do to deserve THIS-!? You spotted Krennic straight away, staring at you with absolute distain. That just made you smirk more; you simply couldn’t help yourself. Seems like someone remembers me calling bullsh*t on all the pretentious nonsense he used to tell us in class. And he didn’t even lecture me all that much. You laughed to yourself, stepping up to give the project presentation, you were the only one in the room briefed, so this whole thing rested on you. You could take the pressure, and you were about to enjoy every second of this! Your eyes flicked to his and you simply had to wink; Payback’s a bitch, Orson Krennic. *** He couldn’t think of anything worse. For the most part, in truth, you left him alone to do what you knew he was best at. But you also kept him on a tight schedule, and it didn’t give him nearly enough time to go sneaking around trying to undermine you. (Apparently something you’d caught onto pretty quick that he liked attempting to do. God bless your colleagues for alerting you to this). You liked knowing what he was doing and where he was going (for you’d left him in charge of a pretty good chunk of the sourcing too), on the hour by the hour. Which was good for you, just in case he got the idea you weren’t watching him incredibly closely. But Krennic hated it (though, he hated it anyway) because every chance you got your sweep out of your office and loudly call him into it. Probably to remind him that he didn’t have his own. Probably also to let everyone know you needed to speak with him again. “KRENNIC! A word-!” Orson shot you a look; absolutely not. He was in the middle of a very important calculation, and if he messed it up, or left it, he’d never get back to it. You could damn well wait. Though, you didn’t like waiting, and when you came out of your office 5 minutes later to find him sitting in exactly the same position he was in before, you sighed; “Krennic! SOME time today!” He slammed his stylus down and his turn to you was quick; “I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME!” Then immediately regretted it when the floor fell silent, and the look on your face told him that, as usual, every jab you made was to get a rise out of him. And it wasn’t often you weren’t successful. He sighed angrily and was forced to concede, feeling his face burning in the moment – he couldn’t tell quite yet whether in rage or embarrassment; “Can I just finish this?” Your eyes narrowed, and your face was almost stern as you folded your arms, “If you’d had said that five minutes ago, I’d have said yes. Not now, get in here.” Krennic stood, and his footfall into your office let you know how mad he was. “I need you to take care of something for me.” Krennic wanted to get argumentative, more than anything – he’d love to have a one on one screaming match at you if that’s what it took. But the more leash you’d give him the better. So he held his tongue. No matter though, it showed clear enough on his face; “Yes?” “You’re from Lexrul, right?” “Yes.” What would this have to do with his home world? “Good – I need to source something from a respectable trader, only my informants indicate that he pretty much won’t speak to anyone who isn’t from his home planet.” Ah, so she needs me. “He’s from Lexrul?” “Correct.” “...I suppose I can do that, if you give me the contact.” “Well, I’d like to be there.” He sighed internally – not enough of a leash, it seemed. “…So it’s set?” “Thursday, yes.” “Then I would be happy to help.” “Good. Kept those figures in your head?” He hesitated for a minute “Excuse me?” “From your calculation…” “Oh. Yes.” “Good, then I was quick enough – get back to it, I don’t want you to forget them… OH! And Krennic!” He turned before he left, “Yes?” “Your work so far has been incredible. Keep it up.” “…Thank… you?” He stepped back out of your office and then scoffed, yeah right… If she thinks she can kill me with kindness she’s got another thing coming… ** Work continued like this for the entirety of the project. And it only served to get worse. Every time you would put Krennic on something that sounded exciting – or might give him that little bit of power - you’d pull him from something else. Or you’d only let him conduct this one meeting, or sit in on this one deal. He realised you were either keeping him from certain information, or making sure you didn’t have to grant him certain access. No matter what your reasoning was. He’d be glad to see the back of you once this was over. But there was something else about you also. That the only time you’d vocalised that you were impressed with him was that meeting. After that you’d kept silent, but your admiration for his work appeared to be from afar. Like you thought saying words would only cause further conflict. Orson would often look up from his work to see you watching him. And he was worried to find that it unnerved him. Not that you watched him; even with his ill feelings for you, it was your job to make sure he was doing his, but it was the way you watched him. Krennic noticed that at first you seemed to hide it with an inquisitiveness, he worked at the other end of your spectrum – your niche was in another silo of architecture altogether. It would make sense for you to be interested. But he noticed that you never asked him about it. And pretty soon he also noticed that you weren’t watching his work, but him. And it wasn’t with interest, or admiration. If he thought he could do anything about it, Orson Krennic knew he would. That using what he saw would give him power over you. He knew that look, he read that look so often in other people – wasn’t he after all also in the intelligence bureau? And this would be intelligence that he could use. You didn’t look at him like a man working on a part of your project. You looked at him like a man you were falling for. Like the man who would take you down with him if he could… *** 9 months later… The lift slid to a halt about 10 floors before he expected it to an he glared momentarily at the buttons. All he wanted was a nice quite ride alone, Thank You! It only got worse when the doors parted and you were standing on the other side of them. You flicked your eyes up and down him and didn’t even bother with a verbal greeting – he’d likely throw back a snide remark or get all grumpy about it anyway. You stepped in and swept around to the keys; only noticing that the floor you wanted was already pressed. Press something else! Press something else! PLEASE be going anywhere but this meeting!!! If Krennic could get it to happen by sheer will he would have – but you took a step away. NO! You were curious though; “Looks like we could be heading to the same project meeting, Commander.” You noticed his intake of breath, and how his body seemed to rise an inch as he straightened and tensed his shoulders. Oh, now you’d pissed him off by addressing him by rank. He also didn’t answer you, which only confirmed your thought, and it became the longest 10 floor ride of either of your lives. You turned to him as you stepped out of the elevator, and once again he saw that look cross your face the same one you’d left burned into his head after the last project, only now you’d learned to hide it well. It was fleeting. And he cursed himself for wishing he could look at it for longer. “Well, Krennic, I’ll see you in the briefing…” With that you swept into the crowd – no doubt to mingle with those of similar rank. He sighed, looking at the bright red strip of his own. One day, he thought to himself, one day I’ll outrank you… and then you’ll see. * The first strategic meeting was okay (The one where everyone with some kind of stakeholder interest in this was present, beyond the working members of the main team themselves), even though he noticed you were sat over there near the front, being lorded on by the higher ups. Not everyone here would be working on the project and Orson realised that, but still... Why he had to sit all the way back here whilst you got to live it up in direct eye-line of anyone important he felt was insulting. And he found himself glaring at your back for the majority of the presentation. Just you wait until you need me for a niche piece of architecture you can’t figure out on your own... The first planning meeting, the one with all the real movers and shakers in it, was where it really heated up. Krennic was almost surprised to receive the invite; he expected hand-me-down information from you at a need to know only level from you at best. When he got to the meeting however, he realised why you’d likely wanted him present. He was among the lowest ranking. The only ones around his rank, or lower, were your assistant and the administration team taking the minutes. He also noticed the place holder names around the table put you directly opposite him. And he knew immediately you’d had a hand in that, even if it had meant swapping them around yourself. But the meeting was hell. If you wanted to embarrass him, to belittle him in a public forum, in front of not only his peers, but people he admired and wanted the admiration of then, by the Stars, had you managed to do that here. In fact at the end he felt so utterly defeated he almost slammed his datapad into your chest and spat his feelings bitterly; I want off this project. I can’t work with you. But that would be showing weakness, and proving you’d broken him. And Krennic couldn’t have that. And that feeling of spite (maybe you wanted him off. And he wouldn’t give in to anything you wanted) was the only thing that made him hang on to his role here. There were lots of points in the meeting, before you’d continually shot him down, that Krennic was happy to be here. Even excited, elated that someone would raise something particularly difficult that he could do. And he would (politely!) raise his arm; “I am more than capable of completing such a task. I would certainly be happy to take it on...” Before you’d come in and cut across; “Our team will take it. Though I am happy enough to put Krennic on my team, you can route the work through me and I can decide where it goes.” He hated you, and he’d never hated you more than right then. Because you knew, you knew, he could do it, you know how desperately he wanted to boost himself a rank and you knew he wanted to prove himself to this particular table. The only reason they even swivelled to you and nodded in agreement was because of your damn rank bar. Without that, in this room, on this subject - that hasten to add, he was an expert on - you would be nothing. Krennic was writing books on this before you were even in the academy and now he had to submit his skills to you. ** There was a bitterness to this project. More so than the last one. And the tension was horiffic – you felt that in the air, and you had to be careful, one foot wrong and it would snap, and you’d be at all out war. Although, you tipped your head surveying him again and biting your lip, when weren’t you putting one foot wrong in his opinion? Krennic spent the project just about acknowledging what you asked him to do, but he gave you no move verbal communication than was absolutely necessary. If he could get away with yes or no then he would. And you hated to admit that it hurt. If he was giving up on snarky sparing matches with you (that you obviously enjoyed) then something was very wrong. You knew he wouldn’t be able to see what you were trying to do for him... but he wasn’t supposed to, you had to go about this correctly. Besides half of the meetings you’d asked him to sit in on for this particular project he wouldn’t be in without you; he had nowhere near the clearance level; and you were giving him that for free. You couldn’t let him simply go off on his own and do it. You needed someone to stare at the magnificent creation and ask you who did it; whose idea, can I work with... “Orson Krennic. Yes.” He’s great. But you knew what Krennic really thought; You wouldn’t let him have any freedom. You didn’t trust him. You’d crush his creativity. There had to be something you could do to show him that wasn’t your aim. After all, that would do neither of you any good... “Orson?” You tried a different route this time, maybe it was gentler to address him by his first name. You knew that rank didn’t work already(!) “Yes...” Apparently not. “I just received the next part of the project.” “Yes?” “I need you to run lead on it.” “Which part?” “All of it.” He looked to you with slight annoyance in those blue eyes, disbelieving. “Who is in charge?” “You are. We’ll finish up here, you’re wasted on this bit.” You placed the drive on his desk that contained exactly what you needed from him; “Do what you do best. Book a meeting with Commander D’Omnynn; he can brief you.” “I assume you want in on this meeting?” You gave a shrug “No...” and stepped away; “This is all yours... just, keep me regularly updated. Okay?” You walked away without either of you uttering another word, and his eyes fell from your frame walking away from him to the drive sitting in front of him. There’s a catch. Where is the catch? He picked it up. What if there wasn’t one this time? Then that left Krennic with one question. Why? *** Krennic worked so hard. So, so, so hard. And you got to watch this from afar with a smile. And hoped he wouldn’t see it. And it was incredible, the amount of files you got back with; This is excellent! Who is working this? or comments about work they’d seen your project, where you got to give a smile “Oh, that would be Krennic...” And more than once it raised surprised eyebrows that you were happy to see proven wrong. So, by the end of the project cycle he was practically running half of it. And Orson seemed a lot more confident; and on occasion he even wore a smile. That meant he was present at the end of project drinks reception... but you were surprised to find him standing alone, sipping from a whisky glass. “Impeccable work, Orson.” He never turned that smile on you, not once. But he couldn’t help doing so at that. And that made you happier than you had been at the outcome of the project. Finally, he might trust you enough to give you his smile. “I suppose, without getting the opportunity to project lead...” “Say nothing of it. I knew you would be the right man for the job...” His face clearly read confused; Either she’s already drunk… or she wants something else… “Surprising really that you didn’t have me on a tighter leash the whole time.” “Why would you say that?” You were curious as to his reasoning. Orson gave a nonchalant shrug; “Oh, well...” he breathed, “you like it don’t you. Lording that rank bar of yours over me.” Part of you rebuked that, part of you couldn’t help but think he was right. And you felt a little ashamed; “I just like being in charge. I earned this rank... just like everyone else.” “Yes, but not everyone else sat in my lectures dying for the day that they could prove me wrong, did they?” “I didn’t necessarily want to prove you wrong...” you still held that small smile, “Maybe I did wanna wipe that smug smirk off your face.” But he didn’t really take that as a light hearted joke. In fact he laughed, almost bitterly and tipped his glass to you; that was sarcasm. “Well, congratulations, Y/N. You succeeded.” He finished the glass, set it down, and fixed you with those blue eyes. You’d lost him, you knew, they were hard and cold and nearly grey. “Now if you’ll excuse me...” Krennic turned away from you, then figured he had more to say and turned back; “I would appreciate it if any time I am put on another project with you, you will pass up the chance to work with me.” “Orson I-” he held up his hand not wanting to hear it, and trying to ignore the pains in his chest at saying this. He had his reasons; he knew what the looks you were giving him were doing to him. It was a confusing and he didn’t like it. Krennic’s only option was to cut it before it began. So he did. “Please. I would like to decline any other offer of work. So, simply don’t make them... maybe I’ll see you around the galaxy, Y/N.” It was all well and good him ignoring his own pains... but you gathered your hands to your own chest. He couldn’t help you ignore yours. *** There was a sharp knock at your door, and you thought twice about answering it – you were busy. If it was important they’d come back. Only the knock was persistent, and sounded a little more than just urgent. When you opened it, you didn’t expect to come face to face with Orson Krennic. Your eyebrows furrowed; oh, now he was actively seeking you out to add another point to his futile argument. Despite the fact you hadn’t seen him for another few months since the Weapons briefing, and also he’d told you he didn’t want to work with you anymore. That left you a little icy with him, if only to try and protect yourself, his words had stung pretty bad; and you’d exchanged pretty sharp glances the entire way through the briefing. You both knew the other one wanted this one badly. Instead of looking angry like he was about to jab accusations at you, he looked perplexed. For a second both of you stood in silence – because you wanted him to admit to you why he was here, and he didn’t want to voice it. So instead you were standing in a silent corridor staring each other down with two equally confused expressions. Krennic conceded, and his eyes lowered from yours as he held up the thick sheet of folded paper; “…I… Don’t understand…” You were glad he wasn’t looking at your face, because for half a second you knew that sheer panic crossed it. He wasn’t supposed to know about it! He at least wasn’t supposed to know it was you who had recommending him – you narrowed your eyes slightly. Bastards-! You couldn’t trust anyone in this Galaxy! You took a moment to compose yourself and spoke; “Why?” His eyes raised, and he looked at least slightly ashamed “…I thought…” “You probably thought right, but I know someone worthy of a promotion when I see one.” Krennic gained a slight squint at your ‘compliment’ – but he wanted more of an answer than that; “That doesn’t explain why…” You nodded to the paper, “You shouldn’t even know it was me. I don’t need to explain anything.” “I don’t have the commendation – I just have your name.” You folded your arms and leant against the door frame; “So, you think I’m just going to let you read it?” “…E… Even if you just give me the highlights.” “No.” “Why?!” “You have no right to information! That’s meant to be anonymous – they’ll probably tell you when they give you your new rank bar. Are we done?” You stepped back but he took a step forward; “Y/N! I’m not leaving until you tell me why.” Narrowing your eyes again, you attempted to push him backwards, but he wasn’t budging. “Orson Callan Krennic! Until you get that new rank, I still out rank you! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” He sounded both panicked and exasperated as he ran his hands through his hair; “That’s not the point! I thought you wanted this!!!” “The battle station project? – I do. But I still know when someone can do the work better than me. And you can. More importantly, that’s what the Empire needs… and you have the process and resource. You do that right, you’re going to be more than just promoted.” He looked to the paper again; apparently every word out of your mouth was only serving to confuse him more; “…But it’d do the same for you.” “But you want it. So take it. Besides…” You offered a small smile “You know me, I’ll work quietly in the background, and should you fail…” You gave a shrug “Guess it’s mine.” Suddenly your smile transferred to him; “If I fail, you’re in as bad a position as me.” He waved the letter “You promoted me.” “Orson, honey, you can be one in a long line of mistakes I’ve made – the trick is, if you make yourself indispensable. People overlook that – how is it my fault if you don’t live up to expectations.” There was a subtle step back at that, not the sentence. The word. You’d just given him a cute nick-name without a second thought, and he didn’t know if that or the letter was the more confusing thing of the day. And now he was having trouble focusing his thought pattern on where he was previously heading… Krennic was usually quicker than this, and as you had to wait for another retaliation, and he searched your room as if somehow the words he was looking for would be somewhere in here – you sighed. “Orson…” Your voice was soft and it brought his focus back to you “Come here… sit down… If you won’t leave without knowing why, and you’re gonna stand in my doorway looking like that, we might as well get comfortable and talk about this…” He was slightly hesitant at first, but the good intentions look on your face persuaded him to take the offered seat on your couch. “Drink?” He gave a firm nod and you crossed the room; you would assume him a whisky man, and would join him. Why would you drink anything less - by the look on his own face both of you might be in need of this by the time the night was through. You turned back to him eyeing your living quarters suspiciously, which made you chuckle. “Relax yourself Orson, this should be more of a celebration afterall... you’re not in trouble. When they present you your bar, I’ll hardly even be able to tell you what to do - which I think is what you want, isn’t it?” But that meant you wouldn’t look at him the way you did, or smile at him like that absentmindedly either. Would you work together now? Could you co-head projects. He smiled at his own thought - he might enjoy that a lot, he realised. Equals. It would be a new experience, but he would like to get used to it. You sat up on the couch, curling your legs up under you and handing him his glass; “…I’m not going to repeat the letter. But part of me is surprised you’d actively seek me out to find out why.” “…I…” He tipped his head and took a sip, words were clearly going to be a struggle for a man who didn’t exactly use them sparingly; but knew smarter ways to use them. “…Guess I just wouldn’t expect you to be the one. All you’ve ever done is push me.” “Yes.” “…And it hasn’t exactly ever been nice pushing. Every chance you get you push me down. Our last project you stole everything from me our first meeting and then went ahead and gave it to me anyway once I was assigned to you. Even I know it’s so you can walk around with that rank and…” He paused at the perplexed look on your face “…I’m…wrong?” “A little.” You gave a smile “Yes. I pushed you; and now you’re here. Doing work, no offense, you wouldn’t get to do without me. In meetings you wouldn’t be in without my invite. I didn’t do what I did in the briefing to undermine you – I did it to strengthen your position.” You set your glass down with a sigh; “Think about it. Sure you’re experienced; but even you know you have a reputation in this galaxy Orson. And it’s not the same reputation as me. They trust me to get it done, and they will overlook you. In a room like that the project is going one way even if you’re the smartest man in it.” You pointed to yourself “I’m not even sure it’s rank related; but if you want to use that against me, I suppose you’re more welcome.” It was clear he didn’t like some of the words that came out of your mouth, but he decided to swallow his pride with his whisky instead of argue with you. “You’re telling me you did all of that for my own good.” “Yes.” “Bullsh*t.” “Believe that if you want to. You’re outstanding at what you do. If I have to make people see that I will. Now you have the opportunity to make them see it for themselves. Go do it, don’t squander it.” You narrowed your eyes slightly; “And be respectful that it’s my name on that promotion slip.” He finished his glass and set it down; “Is it really because you think I deserve it?” You scoffed “What else would it be?” When he turned those blue eyes back on you, it was a knowing look. And it saw right through you. Your breath momentarily caught. “…I know, how you look at me.” He shook his head, “And I think I understand that feeling even less.” You bit your lips together, and you couldn’t hold those eyes. Faint pink crossed your cheeks, but it didn’t need to for him to know he was right. “…I can separate personal and professional, Krennic. It has nothing to do with my… feelings.” “So you admit you have them-!?” He was amazed at that, that you would just outright tell him. If your aim was to confound him even more you were certainly succeeding. You sighed, almost sounding defeated, and finally when you looked back to him, it was that look in your eyes he missed so much from the first project you’d worked on together; you weren’t hiding it, and you weren’t holding it back. And you came to a sudden realisation of your own; he already knew. “Y/N… I-” Krennic paused. How could he not know what to say? Maybe there wasn’t anything to say? But how could there not be. There was so much to say – too much to say? And he was as caught between personal feelings, that he’d kept at bay so easily since he’d walked away from you at the celebration, and professional ones; the things he should say at your commendation to lead to his promotion. He’d be a Director now. That was all on you. He’d head a Division of his own. He’d work on the battle station. He would lead that work. There was a long silence, and when he opened his mouth again you knew why. “Thank you.” Suddenly every feature was sincere “…I don’t think I’ll… say it enough…” It was quiet admittance. And you knew he’d probably never say it again. You smiled, that same small smile that always brought him back to you from a galaxy far, far away. “You don’t need to say it. I know.” Something in his blue eyes stirred and he realised you had no idea, that he would know how you felt from every non-verbal interaction you’d ever given him. That you had no idea he felt similarly. Until right now. Something was so clear about the way he was sitting across from you, that he would even bother coming here to ask questions – and wouldn’t just take the promotion whilst brushing the name aside. You took the initiative. “So, the question…” you nearly smirked, knowing he’d like this; “…Director, is where do we go from here? Because I think for once, I’m pretty unclear…” Krennic leant closer to you, and you realised you weren’t about to back out of this; “…I don’t know…” His lips hovered over yours; “…But we can start here…”

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🙏🙏 Thank You For Requesting! 💙🥰

@dennismitchell @happyskywhale @wltz-bby #MendoTagSquad.

#77 #Linzi Writes Requests #Orson Krennic #Director Orson Krennic #Director Krennic #Director Krennic x Reader #Ben Mendelsohn #I almost forgot him again!#Rogue One #My tagging is so inconsistent God help me!#BW1 #Oh Look another song from Lover...#it's a little Vince but I figured it worked for this too!!#And I feel it's true to her as a reader character. And his particular attitude in this Fic.#Linzi Writes #AU:Lorena

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foxtophat · 4 years

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WHOOO BOY okay here we are! i’m all done with another mercy fic!!! that is honestly amazing, startling, thrilling, all that good shit. i am STOKED!!!

i don’t have much to say about it, other than writing kim and john interacting has been so much fun!!! i’m going to have to come up with more reasons for the two of them to hang out. when john and nick talk it’s like fighting words all the time but with kim john can actually just be a tired adult, and i think he might need that sometimes.

so, i took the fic’s title from a new mountain goats song that i really like. it’s very depressing though. even worms turn into butterflies i guess :(

as usual, the chapter is beneath the cut for those of you who don’t want to leave tumblr’s comfortable embrace. i absolutely adore kudos, comments, likes, reblogs and those passing glances on the street as you wonder “is that the famous author of a tiny fandom’s niche survival au????” yeah, i see you out there, looking for me. i’m carmen san diego, bitch!!! good luck with that!!!!

love you guys, have a good day, and thanks for putting up with me!!! <3

John might try to couch it in exasperation and paint it as a tactical retreat, but Kim sees him leaving for what it really is: gut instinct telling him to escape. She doesn't blame him for needing space, of course. From the way Nick watches him go, it's clear that the day's been harder than either of them have let on. She's sure that Nick will tell her the details later, but right now, it doesn't look like he has the energy. That's also fine; John's fragile emotional state is easily put on the back-burner. She has more important things to worry about right now. For one thing, she's got eighty pounds of supplies to handle and a family that's uncomfortable with the responsibility.

"It's still too much for us, isn't it," Nick says mournfully. "We gotta give more away, don't we?"

Kim privately admits to herself that she doesn't want to give any more away. Hell, she's even reluctant to give away what might be kept for bargaining later. The boxes of military rations, the ten pounds of salt, the five pounds of rice — they wouldn't have anything to worry about during winter. They wouldn't even have to leave the house if they didn't want to. But John has left all of that in a neutral fifth pile for them to divvy out equally, and Kim can't allow herself to be more selfish than him. That is absolutely unacceptable.

"We can give away the potato flakes," Kim says, diplomatically moving them to the center pile. "If we still don't feel like it's enough, we can give away more. But right now, we need to conserve the resources we have control over." Sighing hard in an attempt to blow stray hairs from her face, she adds, "Honestly, we should check that everything is still good before we decide to give anything away." After all, everything looks fine at a glance, but Kim has seen first-hand just how insidious mold can be in ill-stored supplies. Just because Jacob seemed to be prepared doesn't mean he couldn't make a mistake, and Kim isn't about to trust any Seed implicitly.

"I guess you're right," Nick replies, picking up one of the mylar bags and examining its contents through the clear side. Kim remembers the brand of powdered stock so clearly that if she closes her eyes, she can see exactly where it was stocked on the store shelves. Nick seems to be thinking the same thing, sounding strangely nostalgic as he asks, "You don't think there's still time to spice up dinner, do you?"

"Maybe if you guys had gotten here an hour ago," Kim says. "Much longer on the fire and everything is going to be mushy paste. And, again, we don't know if it's safe to use."

"Can we have these tomorrow?" Carmina asks, lifting one of the packaged rations up for approval.

"Not unless they won't last through winter," Kim replies. "Now, I know none of us are excited about five-day stew, but we can't let edible food go to waste just because there's something tastier in front of us." That doesn't do much to rally the troops, unfortunately, and Kim is stuck feeling like the bad guy, so she tries again. "Salt doesn't really go bad, though — I'm sure we can use that."

Nick accepts the terms of the compromise, thankfully, because he's an adult when he needs to be. He redirects his leftover energy towards the sealed bags, pointing Carmina towards the neutral pile. "Okay, you remember how to check whether something's gone bad, right?"

It's been a while since they've relied on store-bought goods, but Carmina hasn't forgotten best-by dates or how to spot discoloration. It's easy enough for them to determine the rations are still good; although the packaging boasts a dubious "fifty-year shelf-life," all of the wrappers are fresh and odorless. They'll have to open one up to be sure, but Kim isn't getting Carmina excited for that this close to dinner. The rice and salt are also easy passes, which means Kim hasn't made too lofty a promise to her family just by offering basic seasoning.

They don't risk breaking any seals quite yet, not without clean containers to hold everything, but it's easy to do a visual check even without opening anything up. Jacob had done his job well — other than the triple-wrapped bottles of liquor, the cache is entirely dry and moisture-free, and everything stored inside was meant to last. That tracks with what Kim knows of the oldest brother. He had been a sharp-minded survivalist; cunning, ruthless, and hard to outwit. He must have been a meticulous planner, putting all of this together, but Kim is struggling to understand what he had expected to do with it all. Like John had said — what good would food be to a man who had planned to survive the apocalypse inside a fully stocked, industrial bunker? And if he didn't trust the Project to save him, then why did he put so much effort into building its militia?

Jacob's motivations are a mystery that Kim isn't interested in solving. She's just glad that, for whatever reason, he'd buried these supplies in particular, and that he'd bothered to share the location with John. Thanks to his opaque planning, Kim can scratch some pipe-dream items off her supply list, and that's good enough for her. Honestly, food had been the last thing she'd suspected John could help them with — she still has trouble believing it's all here in front of her.

With Nick and Carmina studiously inspecting the cache supplies, Kim takes some time to pull the food from the fire. It's the third day they've eaten from this particular batch of stew, and the newest ingredients she put in today are almost a week old. The only thing she can say in favor of their leftovers at this point is that there isn't a lot of it left. She can only hope the salt helps, otherwise she's going to cave on the military rations herself.

Kim brings the pot into the kitchen, then decides it's time to check on John. There's a slim chance that he might have decided to disappear into the hangar, or walked as far as the end of the drive, and Kim isn't going to stand around shouting for him like some kind of Little Home on the Prairie character. She gives Nick a thumbs up as she heads for the front door; he doesn't stop her, but the crease in his brow tells her he wants to.

There's a path laid in the dirt between the porch and the truck where John clearly had been pacing, but when Kim comes outside, he's sitting motionless on the porch steps. He doesn't react as Kim comes up next to him, his elbows resting on his knees as he presses his forehead against his palms. She can't tell if he's ignoring her on purpose, or if he's just so deep in thought that he doesn't realize she's there. His turmoil tends to give him tunnel-vision, and he doesn't always notice his surroundings.

Kim doesn't think he's trying to give her the silent treatment, so she gives in first. "Dinner's going to be ready any minute," she tells him. "It's going to be the last tasteless meal for a while, so I hope you're excited."

"Thrilled," he replies, with just enough sarcasm for Kim to trust she isn't interrupting him mid-crisis. She gives him a minute, and sure enough, he eventually drops his hands from his face. Sighing heavily, he addresses the dirt when he speaks. "I take it I'll need a good excuse to get out of eating."

"Maybe if you had eaten breakfast, I'd be more willing to look the other way." Even though she knows John won't take her concern seriously, she can't completely hide it under her exasperation. She tries for his sake, but it's a lost cause. "I don't think you've finished a meal in days."

John closes his eyes briefly. "I haven't been hungry," he says.

Kim wishes he would be more petulant about it. She can handle it when John acts like a child — she's got nine years of raising Carmina under her belt, after all — but John's resignation is a weariness that reflects her own. She doesn't know how to help him with it any more than she knows how to help herself. She can hardly help Nick when he gets like this. She has no idea how to handle John.

Kim cranes her neck as she checks on Nick and Carmina, who are still busy with the supplies. Satisfied that they aren't in any immediate danger, she finally takes a seat next to John on the porch. He still doesn't look at her, his eyes fixed on his hands, but she's hardly surprised. She turns her own gaze to the truck, glinting in the sunset, and tries to follow the tire-tracks backward. She bets the dirt's held their tracks all the way back to the field.

"If it makes you feel better, my appetite has been terrible, too. Sometimes, all I can do is try to keep everything down." She sighs, lamenting mostly to herself, "What I wouldn't give for a Big Mac right now."

That earns her an amused huff from John, which is better than she'd expected. If he's able to tolerate her bad jokes, then at least she can be sure she isn't making things worse.

"At least once we get through our leftovers, we'll be able to start adding those emergency rations into rotation," Kim continues. John probably doesn't care about meal planning, but Kim doesn't need him to be an interested sounding board. "And with the extra seasoning, even our leftovers are going to be better than they were." She knows she's pushing it when she tries to relate, but she can't help commenting, "It was lucky that Jacob squirreled so much food away."

"That isn't what he would call it," John heaves. His fingers twist against his jeans. "He was prepared for anything that might happen. Luck had nothing to do with it."

"It was lucky for us," Kim points out. "And, you know... considering how much effort he put into hiding it, I bet he'd be relieved to know that you were able to find it after all this time."

"It doesn't matter what he'd think. He's dead."

John takes a sharp breath after he spits the comment out and Kim watches the regret bloom in real time, his scowl deepening as he stares at the dirt. Sometimes, she suspects he beats himself up like this because they refuse to do it for him. She wishes he would stop, already. It used to annoy her, but lately, it's only managed to make her feel terribly sad.

"Maybe it doesn't matter to him, but it might make you feel better."

John barks out a noise that hardly resembles a laugh. "Nothing is going to make me feel better ," he snaps, his anger flaring up and dissipating too abruptly for him to keep hold of it. All it leaves behind is resignation. "It doesn't matter. He'll just... My nightmares will latch on to anything. Jacob will never be happy in them." He sighs, burying his hands in his hair, twisting his fingers as though he might pull clumps out by the root. "Nothing I do helps. I just want it to stop ."

Kim wishes she had a solution for him, but she has nothing besides a lame suggestion to get more rest. That clearly hasn't worked for any of them, let alone John, who treats his nightmares like physical intruders instead of figments of his imagination. She doesn't know what they do to haunt him so badly, and she isn't sure she's ready to learn. She's only just now starting to get used to him as a person — she's not ready to unpack all of his damage.

John sighs and rubs his temples. "I knew Jacob didn't believe," he admits. "Not in the religious doctrine, anyway. But I didn't know that he had... planned around it. If I'd known, then maybe..."

John trails off, and Kim hums sympathetically after he fails to pick back up. Most of John's trauma is bespoke to him and him alone, but this is something that any survivor would be able to commiserate with. "Hindsight really does suck," she says. "Trust me, you're not the only one wondering what could've gone differently."

Usually, John is almost impossible to console, but it seems like the day has worn the fight right out of him. He only shakes his head miserably at her attempt to sympathize. "It wouldn't have been any better," he mutters. "It would only have been a different kind of worse."

"Maybe," Kim supposes, although she's not entirely convinced. There were plenty of points between the Project's arrival and the Collapse where a split in leadership would have benefited everybody. She's thought about it before now, remembering rare moments when she'd thought she'd seen something beneath the veneer of otherwise devout believers. She's wondered more than once what might've happened, if only they had convinced the right person to turn their back. God, she's hypothesized about a thousand missed opportunities left in that half-decade. There are a million ways things could have turned out better for even just one more person.

At last, Kim surrenders her side of the conversation — or what's left of it, anyway. "Well, for whatever it's worth, you've done us a big favor, and we're not going to let it go to waste. And a lot of people are going to benefit from your hard work."

John takes a deep, unhappy breath. "Yes," he says. He opens his mouth to soften the word with something else, something to hide the fact that he still depends on blind acceptance when overwhelmed, but he can't seem to come up with anything.

Kim doesn't need an excuse. She puts a hand on his shoulder, feeling him tense under her gentle grip, anticipating more than simple reassurance. It offended her at first, how often he seemed to expect them to be violent with him. The idea that he thought either of them were capable of the same awfulness as the cult had pissed her off. But nowadays, she's come to accept that it's simply hardwiring left over from before. She's not sure there's anything to be done about it at this point.

There are no platitudes she can offer him that wouldn't sound insincere, so she relies on facts. "When you're ready, come inside and try to eat something. You look like you wore yourself out."

John's tension slowly ebbs. "I... may have overdone it," he admits somewhat reluctantly, which tells Kim that he definitely overdid it. He scrubs his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "I needed to know I was right. I... needed him to know I hadn't forgotten."

So much for Jacob being too dead to care about. Despite everything, Kim can't help but sympathize. She feels his remorse in her own way whenever she thinks about her parents, and she knows that everybody carries something like that with them these days. She might not be haunted by her parents the way John is, but she thinks she can understand his sorrow. It might be the only thing about him she really gets.

"That's okay," she tells him, because it is, and somebody should tell him as much. "But you can't let it get in the way of taking care of yourself."

He nods, but Kim knows he doesn't believe her. He treats every attempt to reassure him as empty platitudes — not that she can blame him, really. But sometimes, like right now, she wonders if he would be less inclined to beat himself up so much if they'd just punished him the way he'd wanted from the start. It's just her exasperation talking, frustrated by his continued misery. John needs time, just like the rest of them, and beating him up ten months ago would only have made things worse.

A loud thud interrupts them, followed immediately by Carmina shouting, " Ow !" Nick starts to laugh, which keeps Kim from getting particularly worried about Carmina's safety, but she still gets up to investigate. John doesn't follow, although she catches him turning his head to watch her as she heads inside.

Nick, still seated at the table, laughs at their daughter as she lies sprawled back on the ground, her feet still guiltily stuck in the barrel.

"Told you, you're too big! No way you'd fit."

"I had to try ," Carmina grumbles as she kicks her way out of the barrel.

" Why ?" Kim laughs.

"I dunno, I just had to!"

"Too bad I don't have a blow-torch," Nick laments. "We could've put some eye-holes in it for you, like a helmet. Maybe then you'd be able to ride around in the truck-bed without your mom getting all worked up."

Carmina gasps. " Really ?"

Kim is quick to smother that particular idea. " No ," she cuts in, trying not to laugh at the mental image that her husband's conjured up. She tries to guilt Nick with an exasperated glance, but the bastard doesn't look even remotely repentant about suggesting armor to their child. "There has to be a better use for it than that. Anyway, armored or not, I don't want you to get thrown out of the back of a moving vehicle! I don't know why that's so unreasonable."

Carmina opens her mouth to argue the point, but she's abruptly distracted as she glances into the barrel. Rearranging her legs to sit on her knees, she pulls the barrel towards her. Kim would write it off if it weren't for Carmina's obvious confusion as she peers inside.

"There's more stuff in here," she reveals, tipping the barrel upright. She's uncharacteristically uneasy as she mentions, "Um, I think it's cult stuff..."

Kim is the first one to investigate, peering down into what she'd thought was an empty cache. She finds a circular metal disk wedged catty-corner into the barrel, revealing a hidden compartment. Reaching past the false bottom, Kim finds some black fabric and a box. She figures out the tee-shirts from the tags inside the collars of the factory-starched fabric, but hesitates to investigate the rest. The other packages stored away had been factory-sealed and clearly labeled cardboard boxes; there was no hiding what was in those. This, on the other hand, is a wooden cigar box with no seals, the Eden's Gate cross etched elaborately into the lid.

"Uh, John?" Nick calls as Kim sets the box down on top of the shirts. She wonders if she should open it, or if it might be some kind of trap. Nick looks deeply distrusting as he stares at the emblem and repeats louder, "John?"

John is more confused than any of them when he enters the scene. He scowls as soon as he sees the box sitting on the table, which would be hard to miss even without Nick gesturing widely towards it. "Where did you find that?" he asks, looking from Nick to Carmina as if they might have different stories to give him.

"Where do you think, Mars?" Nick exclaims, exasperated. "You wanna tell me what's inside?"

"I don't know ," John grits out, "I haven't looked ."

But it's clear from his expression that he has an idea of what they're dealing with. He crosses the room and hovers momentarily in front of the box, flipping the lid open before Kim can decide if that's a good idea. It could be a bomb. It could have a tripwire. She doesn't want her home ruined by Bliss all over again!

Of course, nothing happens. Kim supposes that if it had been a trap, Carmina would have set it off by climbing on top of it. The reality is much less ominous than she could have expected. She hovers near John as he pulls a clean moleskin journal out, watching him flip through the blank pages before dismissing it. He's slower to write off the folded mass of paper that he takes out next, although he doesn't examine it right away. Kim doesn't need him to unfold it to see the topography lines and highway markers printed on it.

"An empty journal, a map, and..."

John scowls at the twenty or so bullets that rattle around at the bottom of the cigar box. They can't be any different from the rest of the ammunition, but for some reason, the sight of them triggers a sense of dread in Kim. After all, what kind of ammunition would Jacob have thought needed to be secreted away? It can't be good. It can't possibly be safe .

"Ah," John says. Kim can't say for sure, but he seems almost disappointed.

"What are they?" Nick asks.

"Bullets we infused with Bliss." John tilts the box, examining the ammunition as best he can without touching it. Kim can't help but want to snatch Carmina away, but they're past the point of hiding these things from her. She has a right to understand just how dangerous the cult was. But there's also a lingering fear that somehow, Carmina might be affected by that god-awful drug, even if it's from ten-year-old bullets.

"You don't have to worry," John says. He doesn't need to look up for Kim to know he's talking to her. "The drug would be inert by now."

"What should we do with them, then?" Nick asks.

"Destroy them," John replies honestly. "If not that, then... store them away. We don't need them, but..."

"But it would be stupid to throw away good ammunition," Kim finishes as John trails off.

"Exactly."

None of them make a move to take either action. Kim supposes that the bullets aren't hurting anyone right now, just sitting there, and it seems like Carmina is more interested in the map than the ammunition. She's trying and failing to peek at the folded pages without undoing the whole mess. They didn't have a map in the bunker, which means that this will be Carmina's first chance to see her home spread out as a whole.

"Here, let me," Kim tells her daughter. Nick takes her cue, clearing a space on the table for her as she picks up the map. All eyes are on the accordion folds as they unravel, revealing more and more of the county. Black stars dot locations Kim remembers, like Lorna's and Rae Rae's, and circled points of nothing are marked in the middle of empty fields and mountain road turnoffs. The key is neatly printed in the upper left corner; beneath it is a uniform list of numbers, most likely coordinates, written briskly in red ink.

Even without the key, Kim thinks she understands the various marks around the map. Spread out in front of them, she can see double circles around power boxes, and she spots a few other locations with the same notation. Stars are placed next to several prominent people's homes, including their own. There are other things, too — little ink drawings of wolves, bears and deer in spots across the map. A few lakes have the names of fish written over them in the same blocky letters as the food packaging; the river bend nearest to their home has the word BASS written neatly along the bend.

Standing next to Kim, staring down at the map, John finally says, "This doesn't make any sense."

Nick opens his mouth to respond, probably with something sarcastic, but he thinks better of it and goes a different route. "Why would he hide this stuff?" he asks. "I mean, I get the bullets, I guess... but hiding the map seems weird."

John scowls at the box in his hands, closing the lid vengefully. "This is what the cache should have been," he says. "It should have more of this — more weapons, more maps, more intel . What about all of the blueprints we'd drawn up for housing? Instructions on how to reconnect the power grid, or the deeds to prove we owned the land — that would help, no matter what you believed! We were prepared for an apocalypse, but — where is it all? Sugar and rice and cigarettes aren't helping anybody!"

Kim can't blame John for getting upset, although she wishes he wouldn't shout around Carmina. Knowing that Jacob had planned for the possibility of the Project not being around is one thing, but it must be particularly rough to see obvious signs of a long-forgotten plan. Especially one that John hadn't been told anything about, with only a few disjointed clues left for him to piece back together.

To her surprise, it's Nick who comes to John's rescue, standing to draw John's attention before he completely spirals. "Come on, that's not true. You know we need food more than anything else." He gestures towards the open map. "Besides, there are plenty of other spots we can check. And now we know what we're looking for, right?"

John sighs heavily. "Yes," he agrees.

"Okay," Nick continues, "And now we've got rations and a tent to take with us, so we don't go through another long day like today. Right?"

John rolls his eyes. It's no secret that he hates it when they treat him like a child, but there's not enough outrage left in him to get angry about it. Instead, he drops his eyes to the ground and agrees with a despondent, "Yes."

"So, alright, maybe we aren't going to learn how to reconnect the power grid, or how to build a solar water purifier, or whatever. But at least we know we're not going to struggle through winter. Neither is Grace, or the gang, or the town."

"I know," John sighs. "I know." He drops the box onto the table, grimacing at the sound it makes. "The map alone is worth all of today's effort." He doesn't look convinced, but Kim can appreciate his almost-apology for what it is.

Carmina, who has been examining the map to avoid John's outburst, finally sees an opening to speak up. "Um... Where is our house?" she asks.

Nick squints over the map, trying to pinpoint the spot from his upside-down vantage point. Neither he nor Kim are quick enough to answer, though, as John reaches out and taps his finger against one of the black stars in the lower-left corner. He doesn't even have to look — he clearly memorized their location a long time ago.

"Here," he says.

"Oh, good," Nick sighs, "We got a star."

"It meant you had something useful that you weren't willing to give up." John's finger drags across the paper to the label on the river. "But I don't understand why he marked fishing spots. And hunting locations. And these..." He taps the red numbers. Kim spots a few red dots on the map, hopefully corresponding to the coordinates, but they seem to be in random locations. Whatever logic the Project was using, Kim can't make it out.

"I don't know what any of these are," John says. His voice lacks the anger from moments ago, replaced by a growing fascination with the mysterious notations. "They're all up in the mountains, so I think... Well, except...."

He moves around Carmina, who watches him with wide eyes as he seems to forget she's standing right next to him. John's given her more attention in the last hour than he has this entire year, but it figures that his indifference to her is what's sticking out.

"This one," he says, tapping a red dot near the old Eden's Gate compound. "This might be the furthest south... No, wait. This one." He moves his attention again, indicating another red spot closer to town.

"Are they more barrels?" Carmina asks.

John is momentarily startled to find Carmina right beside him, but he doesn't immediately leap away to put some distance back. Mostly because doing so would send him right into Kim's personal space. "It could be," he admits, only letting Carmina's input rattle him for a second before he turns his attention back to the map. "They must have been late additions. But... I didn't hear anything about these, and I don't remember seeing them on other maps. If they were for the Project, I would have found out about them eventually."

"Wouldn't they have told you upfront?" Nick asks, surprised when John chuckles in response.

"There were plenty of things I had to learn second-hand. There are probably more secrets I never learned at all. But — this cache was buried weeks before the Reaping. We kept our maps updated almost daily, but I don't remember either of these being marked. And there's one at the compound... I would remember emergency supplies being stored at the church."

Carmina stands on the opposite side of John from Kim, watching his hand move as he talks. Seeing the two of them side-by-side should probably upset Kim. She should be worried about her daughter putting too much trust in John — even if he wants to do the right thing now, he doesn't always understand what the right thing might be, and Carmina is at an impressionable age. If John says or does something wrong, he could shift Carmina's entire worldview.

In reality, though, Kim doesn't particularly mind. John is clearly not comfortable around Carmina, even though her lukewarm interest in him is hardly a threat, and he's highly cautious when he talks to her. Whether it's because Carmina is Nick's kid, or because he's bad with kids in general, Kim doesn't know. All she knows is that John is always careful with his words when Carmina is around.

"Stars are people's homes, right?" Carmina asks. "What about crosses?"

John frowns, tearing his eyes away from the mystery coordinates long enough to look where Carmina is pointing. "Shrines," he tells her. He points out a few more symbols, although it's clear he's doing it to keep her from asking him more questions. "Triangles are silos. Circles are established caches. Unfilled squares are locations we wanted. Filled squares are places we owned."

Carmina frowns at the map. "There are a lot of those."

Nick clears his throat loudly, and John immediately opens his mouth to apologize. Nick doesn't seem to need it, though, scratching at his chin as he tells Carmina, "The cult stole a lot of property right from underneath the real owners. They didn't actually own any of it. They just lied, and pretended."

John frowns, but he makes no effort to defend the cult one way or another. "And now the Project holds none of it," he says, gesturing at the map. "You could take it all back. Nobody will be there to stop you."

"Yeah, assuming any of it is still useful."

"We're one-for-one so far," Kim points out. Nick purses his lips at her taking John's side, but he's the one who suggested armoring up Carmina earlier — he can deal with a little payback. "Besides, I think we could all use a little direction right now. Something to work towards beyond surviving day-to-day."

"There could still be useful intelligence stored away," John says. "Jacob had plans for a multitude of projects we could make use of. The only problem I can see is that Joseph might have a similar map. We may have to compete with him for resources."

"From what I've heard, they've been keeping to themselves. Something about Mennonites with bows and arrows, I don't know." Nick waves a hand dismissively over the map. "If we can use cult resources against Joseph, then I'm all for it."

"That makes two of us," John agrees.

Kim's eyes rove across the map, following the river eastward. The cattle ranch is marked by a star and a cross, but there isn't much there to see along the southern border; for whatever reason, the cult focused most of their resources on the northern half of the valley. It isn't until the now-jungles of the Henbane's territory that more outposts pop up, although she can't imagine any of them are used now. According to what's left of the rumor mill, the cult has mostly remained on what used to be Dutch's island. So far, they haven't seemed interested in making contact with outsiders, much less trying to make amends — if John and Nick do go out and encounter some cultists, she can't know how it will turn out. They seem to want to keep to themselves — but how long can that possibly last?

It's a worry that she'll have to deal with later. She's already anxious enough for the present; she doesn't need to add future paranoia to the mix. For now, she can focus on appreciating the stark benefits laid out on the table in front of her. Even if Joseph has his own map, he doesn't have gasoline, or working vehicles, or guns . He doesn't have radio communication across the entire county, whereas monopolizing the resources will only take Kim a few quick calls. Anything the cult tries to pull off will have to be done much more slowly, and with Joseph being in control of it all. It's a strange way for the tables to turn, but Kim can't say she doesn't like the satisfaction it brings, knowing that they're at least one step ahead of the Project. It only took, what, nine years?

"Well, damn, John," Nick says at last, "Way to set the bar high for next time."

"Don't expect more miracles," John replies, lifting one hand neutrally. But there's something in his expression, a sort of awkward bashfulness, that reminds Kim of Nick's own humble pride. Kim's surprised to find that humility is a good fit for John. It's better than the cold arrogance he used to display, that's for sure. Who knows — maybe in a few years, it won't take dragging him through one long, emotionally-draining day to get him to open up. If they're lucky, it won't take that long, but knowing John, he'll fight it every step of the way.

That's okay, though. Kim's got more than enough patience to wait him out.

#fc5 #fcnd #john seed #kim rye #far cry new dawn #honestly i need to stop tagging this fc5 #it's not any more #its 100% new dawn baby #my fic #mercyverse

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