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neen-writes · 7 years

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Iron Legends: Reforged -- Chapter 14

Series: Fairy Tail

Characters: Gajeel, Levy, plus appearances from Natsu and Lucy.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Sci-fi

Summary: The old lab had always been fuel for a good story, something you would half-heartedly joke about going to sometime. Some did, and when they came back they never talked about it again. The legends circulated, telling of ghosts, monsters, and anything else someone would be likely to conjure up about an abandoned building. But even with all the stories meant to keep everyone away, there are still those for whom the intrigue is too tempting.

Read the Reforged chapters on FFnet here, Ao3 here, and read the entire original story here!! AND find this fic’s soundtrack here!

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch.10 Ch. 11 Ch. 12 Ch. 13

Gajeel?

Gajeel where are you?

“Do I have to repeat myself? I said prepare a space in the infirmary. I have a subject incoming with an impale wound.”

“A what?!” A voice, rubbed raw with screams, gasped out. There was no answer.

Wait…

Was that my voice?

Everything felt so hazy, so detached.

No, no, he can’t have been impaled. I don’t remember seeing him being… he was beaten into the dirt. I saw Rogue do that. He didn’t do anything else. I stopped it, I saved him, I--

In her haze, she tried to move, tried to sit up, but her body wouldn’t obey her. Something was moving her, holding her, and instinctively she recoiled from that unknown force. She regretted it immediately as pain flared through her like wildfire, tethering her further to the world and trying to pull her from her haze.

It hurts!! Oh god it hurts; what is that!? I can’t see anything, I don’t remember—

Then the images hit her. All at once, pounding into her brain to the tune of her racing heart.

Standing, arms spread, shielding the broken man. Pleading for it to stop, and then it hit her. The spear running her straight through, tearing flesh. It happened again, and again and again. Each time it replayed in her thoughts another wave of pain shook her and she opened her mouth to scream, but couldn’t tell if she even made a sound. She felt her lungs burn, her throat tighten, but only part of her was present.

LEVY!

His voice cut through the fog in a blaze. That scream--his scream--dug hooks into her pierced shoulder and reeled her blindingly to the present. Her eyes snapped open with a gasp, coughing from the rawness of her own throat.

Levy was set onto something solid, and she heard a thud next to her, then a slam. There was pressure put over her, holding her in place, and then everything started to shake. Was the ground shaking or was she?

She couldn’t tell if she was looking around her or if she was hallucinating. Everything was a blur, swept by some unknown current before she could latch onto any details. Where am I? Where are you taking me? Please, I want to go home! I want to see Gajeel!

She could feel a hard pressure wrapping around her shoulder, immediately firing stabbing, burning pain through her. The pain that made everything tighten and her jaw clench so tight she thought she might crack her teeth.

Then the pain slowly, terrifyingly, became static. It was a fuzzy throb at the edge of consciousness and she realized she was slipping away. The pain had brought devastating weakness and a blackness that chipped away at her consciousness. Like a hungry beast it took more of her, bit by bit.

Stay awake, stay awake, I need to…

With a roll of her head, the blurs, for just an instant, made out the form of a large black mane. It was gone as quickly as she had recognized it, and so was the pain. Is this what dying feels like? She felt nothing, saw nothing, and eventually,

Thought nothing.

“No sir, she has no family that we know of. She is acquainted with the chief’s son, however.”

Brown eyes opened slowly to the sound of muffled voices, gazing weakly around the sterile white room. The light was near blinding, bringing a painful, throbbing pressure in her forehead as she shut her eyes again to block it out.

“Minor. Igneel was unable to find us in the past.”

The sound of a familiar name tugged at her again to try and wake up. Igneel? Natsu’s dad? Levy opened her eyes again and turned her head slowly to the side, trying not to agitate anything. Her eyes focused on the door with the frosted glass window. Two silhouettes stood outside it, their voices muffled but intelligible through the door.

“You have given him reason to try again.”

“He’ll be hard-pressed to get the clear from commissioner, what’s-his-name, to open the case back up. In a different county no less. Hargeon is a large city, my friend. And we have been meticulous. Six years is a long time to bring a plan to fruition. The destruction of our first station was merely a speedbump, and ultimately a catalyst to rush construction here.” That sickening, confident voice overshadowed the other. She knew that voice, but was not yet conscious enough to understand the implications of where she was. “Now, is she stable?”

“Yes, sir. She lost a lot of blood, but we were able to close the wound. She’ll need to rest for a few days but fluids and pain medications should pull her through. It’s too early to say if she will be able to use that arm again without therapy.”

I what? she thought, turning her head too quickly to try and look at herself. Instantly a wave of dizziness washed over her and she tensed, but only pain followed. The blunette grit her teeth and bit down on a cry, not wanting to tip off the men outside to the fact she was awake, however fleeting it was.

“Yes yes, that’s all great but how soon until I can move her? Speak to her? I don’t need her to be recovered, just coherent.”

Levy’s stomach twisted a little, the more the one voice spoke, the more her hazy, weak state of mind was able to catch up with who he was. Who had her.

Slowly this time, the girl moved her gaze around the room again, confirming that she was alone, and that the room was bare save for medical equipment at her bedside, beeping softly. She inhaled deeply, trying to steady her nausea, and realized then that she had something on her face. With her left hand, she reached to her mouth shakily and felt the oxygen mask, before her good arm fell weakly at her side again. An IV line was taped to the back of her hand. Levy craned her neck as best as she was able and saw the heavy bandaging around her injured shoulder, with her right arm secured in a sling. Her head dropped back onto the pillow and she bit back another groan.

There was a heavy pause before the other male responded. “The soonest you should be able speak to her is in another day or so. You may move her if she is in a wheelchair. You won’t be able to run her around but she should be awake and aware.”

“Good. I need her aware of her purpose here as soon as possible, before our iron dragon catches on to our little fib. I need to be able to use her, quickly.”

Gajeel! She could barely remember them taking him… or her for that matter. All she remembered was Rogue, running her through. The image flashed through her mind’s eye harshly, her shoulder ached in response.

Levy couldn’t fully process the state of her situation, but did her best to move through the facts, one by one. That was definitely Jose outside her door, and they definitely had Gajeel. Which meant he was alive on one hand, but on the other he was theirs again. Judging by what Jose had said, Jupiter Technology had been building another facility long before they even lost their first. In Hargeon of all places, which was at the least two hour’s drive from Magnolia. So far from home. She pressed her eyes shut tightly, trying to will away the pain that the medications could not.

It took a minute for her to realize she could no longer hear the voices outside. She started to feel her thoughts, along with her hope, slipping from her. This time, it was sleep beckoning her, rather than weakness. As the black closed in, she could clearly see a single face in her mind that only brought her a shred of solace, and a world of guilt.

“Natsu… what do we do if he says no?” Lucy whispered to the boy next to her, her eyes focused on the clasped hands in her lap. Both of them sat on a bench at the station after coming to pester Igneel about Levy.

“Dad’s hard to say no to,” he responded, voice just as hushed. “And even if he doesn’t get the okay… you know he’ll try anyway.” A proud smile pulled at his mouth.

“Will it be in time, though?” Lucy replied, squirming in her seat. “She went missing yesterday and there’s still no sign of her,” the blonde’s voice cracked, before she felt his arm over her shoulders and he pulled her into his side. Carefully, he kissed her hair.

“We’re gonna find her, Luce. One way or another. I promise.” Natsu did his absolute best to sound confident, to reassure her. Judging by the slight relaxing of her shoulders, it seemed like it worked. They both knew full well it wouldn’t be that easy, but neither of them needed to acknowledge it right now. For Levy’s sake, they wouldn’t allow themselves to be anything but optimistic.

A sudden thud and a raised voice brought their attention to the door to their right, the frosted glass only giving them a glimpse at movement within.

“The hell you mean you can’t, Makarov?” the fiery-haired man nearly bellowed at the stern-faced elder in front of him.

“I never said I couldn’t, Igneel. Don’t you raise your voice at me,” the older man replied sternly. Despite having a stature considerably smaller than the redhead in front of him, the commissioner exuded a powerful authority. “Just not as quickly as you are asking me to. You know we can’t just warm up such a high-profile case up this fast. There is a process. We need people, time, a review of the evidence. You are asking me to dig all of this back up on a hunch, and to bring it to another jurisdiction no less. Because of something you think the kids found.”

Igneel balled a fist and dropped it down on the commissioner’s desk. “Are you listening to me at all? They know specific details from the case. Details we never released. And a child is missing again, sir. It’s the same thing all over again.”

“It’s coincidental, chief. You know it is. The information they know is entirely a product of their trespassing and juvenile imaginations,” Makarov replied, directing his eyes down to his desk apologetically. “You need to get a missing person’s report filed, not reopen the case that got away. We all have them.” There was a knowing edge to his words. “You aren’t the only one that’s lost something, Igneel.”

“I know damn well I’m not the only one, but you don’t need to take out your failures as a guardian on me,” he growled, glaring heavily at the commissioner.

“Watch yourself, boy.” Makarov bit out, making it clear a nerve had been hit. “Don’t get yourself hurt treading into my personal affairs.”

Igneel winced, realizing the hastiness of his words. Bringing up his grandson was a low blow, but he couldn’t stop now. “Our justice system failed every one of those children, and now that I have reason to try again I won’t let it fail them all over. It’s Levy that’s missing. The girl never gets into any trouble.” A muscle twitched in Makarov’s jaw that let Igneel know he was at least on the right track. “She fits the bill, no parents or extended family. She’s been missing since yesterday, and she claimed to have seen Porla, here in Magnolia,” he urged, trying to find some way to keep pushing his superior. “I am not letting this die on me again and I will not have another kid’s life on my hands that I didn’t try hard enough to find justice for. The longer we wait the greater the chance we never see her again.” Igneel straightened up and squared his shoulders, exuding a fiery determination that did not go unnoticed.

Makarov looked up to the chief, his eyes studying the hardened man’s face for a few moments. Igneel would not back down, and did not waver under his superior’s stare. It was not something the old man was unaccustomed to. The chief had a personality as combustible as his appearance would suggest and when he fixated on something, he was not like to let it go. It was a quality that both infuriated Makarov as his superior, and also massively served their department. It was also a quality he was slowly passing onto his son.

Finally, a defeated sigh deflated the dominant stature and Makarov hunched a little. “Alright,” he said first, but seeing the expression of victory quickly rise in the red-head in front of him, Makarov quickly raised a hand to stop him. “I’ll authorize a small detail to the old facility to see if there are any indications that Levy, or Porla, were there. I recommend Laharl. I want a full report on the evidence we have thus far, and I will need a testimony from your son and Lucy, before I even think of contacting anyone in Hargeon. I need to know that we even have something solid to stand on before stepping into another county. Clear?”

“Crystal.” Igneel rested both hands on the desk with a grateful smile, pushing his weight forward before he rolled back on his feet to leave. “Oh, and sir?” Makarov hummed in response, “I do hope your boy reaches out to you again, someday,” he said in way of an apology for his earlier transgression. The commissioner merely nodded solemnly, and watched the chief leave.

“Where are you taking me…” Levy asked, barely above a whisper. Her voice was flat and dry, eyes fixed on her lap. The floors were thankfully smooth for the most part, allowing the chair to roll without jostling her. The process of being pulled out of bed was uncomfortable enough, and the near full day of sleep hadn’t done much for her headache.

“Dr. Porla wants you in the holding wing,” the voice behind her answered, just as devoid of expression as she was. She didn’t recognize him when he had come for her that afternoon, nor did she recognize anyone they passed in the halls.

Levy licked her lips, trying to fight the horrible cotton-mouth, “Holding?”

“Where the subjects are kept,” he answered abruptly, a finality in his voice that told her he was done indulging her. He likely wasn’t permitted to speak to her much at all.

The girl went rigid and clenched her good fist, understanding turning into dread. They’re taking me to see him. The realization hit hard, and her breath hitched. This wasn’t going to be some casual bedside visit, there was a definite motive here and her thoughts returned to the conversation she overheard the day before. There was a very real reason why they had brought her here; Jose seemed like a man of results and efficiency, they wouldn’t have wasted time or resources on her unless they expected her to benefit them in good measure.

Levy’s gut dropped with the elevator as they descended two floors, terrified of what she might see at the bottom. She studied the buttons on the elevator, gleaning that in terms of height(or depth) the building wasn’t that large: 1, GF, -1, -2. He had punched the bottom-most key. We’re going underground… they keep them underground. She turned her head slightly, glancing at the man behind her from the corner of her eye. She may not have recognized him, but felt it pertinent to at least know his face.

There was a soft sliding noise as the doors opened in front of her, revealing a long, bright hall, at the end of which stood none other than Jose. As the man pushed her forward, the gap from the elevator to the floor jerked her shoulder painfully. Levy inhaled through her teeth, but kept her eyes open. On either wall were what looked like large glass panels, doors almost. Each evenly spaced from the other, with maybe fifteen on each wall.

It wasn’t until they passed by the first glass wall that she realized they were cells. The first few were empty, but they had the same amenities you’d see in a jail cell, with a single light in the ceiling of each. After passing two empty cells, she saw one that was occupied by none other than one of her captors: Rogue. He sat, motionless, on his cot with his head bowed. Their arrival did nothing to stir him, and with how airtight the cells looked, she wondered if they could even hear them. The next cell had another man, laid back completely on his cot with his arms behind a head of maroon hair; then came a man with golden hair, sat the same way Rogue was with head bowed.

Levy swallowed hard, watching as they passed the cells one by one. Not every one was occupied between the two walls, but they were mostly filled with people of similar ages. Most were in the same state of quiet obedience as Rogue and the other two. But the further they went—closer to the repulsive sight of Dr. Jose Porla at the end waiting for her—the more unrest she saw within. Some of them would suddenly rush the walls, and impact with muted thuds, spitting silent curses. Rocking and pacing, the more restless individuals appeared to have earned additional restraint in the form of masks, handcuffs that encompassed their forearms entirely, and even just straps to hold them to their cots, with lines of some unknown chemical attached to their arms. They looked like caged animals, and they were treated as such.

“Miss McGarden, so good to see you on the mend.” The very sound of his voice brought a deep sense of loathing that she didn’t even know she was capable of. The capacity to hate someone with such vehemence was new to her, and it drew her gaze from the subjects to the man responsible. “I won’t waste your time or mine with chatter,” he started, and had Levy felt better she might have scoffed at him for that, “I have something I am just dying to show you.” The mustached man jerked his gaze to the final cell in front of him as the individual behind her rolled her next to Jose. It was dark inside, and she realized the ceiling light that the other cells were equipped with was smashed out. The glass wall was scraped and scuffed, and the cot had been smashed and twisted beyond recognition, pushed all the way to the front like it had been used to try and get out.

There was a faint, pulsing red light within the cell that only supplemented a small amount of ambient light from the hall. Each time it flashed she could see the outline of a large figure on its knees with its back to them, slumped against the back corner. She brought her left hand to her mouth, stifling not only her gasp but trying to stay the meager contents of her stomach.

Gajeel swayed back and forth, dragging his head and armcuffs across the wall in front of him before thudding against the wall next to him before swaying back the other way. Mindless and repetitive. She could see lines coming from his cuffs, attached to something within the walls, and wondered if that was a way to medicate him.

“What have you done to him?” she wheezed, unable to tear her eyes away from him or put any more strength in her voice.

“Besides pumping him continually with sedatives?” Jose answered, a hint of precarious amusement in his tone as he clasped his hands behind his back and turned to look fully at Gajeel. “I told him you were dead.”

Levy nearly choked, her eyes flying to Jose, the hatred having given way to desperate pleading. A complete lack of comprehension for the utter depravity and lack of humanity that he wore like a badge of honor, with a cape of indifference. The shock left her with no room to spit at him, only to ask, “Why?”

Jose looked at her, a brow raised as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, and she was asking a very stupid question. “To see if we could make him more pliable, of course,” his tone was matter-of-fact in a way that turned her stomach. “He was in such a rage yesterday when we got him here, after the first round of sedatives wore off.” The man smiled, shaking his head, “Had he been a conditioned subject, it would have been such a magnificent power to control. He truly continues to be one of our best in terms of ability. Not in terms of will. Too much of that, he’s got,” Jose trailed off a little, looking back to the dragon in his cage. “But then I had the brilliant idea to test your effect on him. Once I told him, it was like flipping a switch. It was spectacular. He went down like a rock, faster than any tranquilizer we could have ever used.” There was a sideways glance to the blunette, “You really have quite a hold on him.”

Levy grimaced and her hands shook, but she had to force herself to talk. She was right here, in front of him and very much alive. She couldn’t allow him to think or suffer otherwise. “Do you really think that glass will hold him?” she spat, deliberately raising her voice.

The researcher shook with a condescending laugh, bringing a palm to his face in insulting exasperation. “Oh, you sweet child. That is four inches of layered Lexan polycarbonate, with one-sided tint. He’s not going anywhere, he can’t see us, and he can’t hear you either, so don’t try.”

Levy bit her lip, having been foiled so easily. She was grasping at straws and little more. “So then why am I still here? If I am ‘dead’ what else could I be good for to you?” the blunette asked, heavily dreading the answer to the question.

“Insurance,” Jose answered simply. “Should that beast turn to that thirst for revenge I so know him to be capable of, all I have to do is dangle you in front of him. It is abundantly clear to me that he will do anything for you, out of some poor, misguided emotional investment. And if it comes to that, I will suddenly be the man who brought you back to life, as well as the man who can take it away.” The foreboding in his voice was not lost on her. “You are exactly the tailored conditioning tool I needed for him, Levy McGarden. I have been fortunate enough to find some for our others, but never one for him,” he shot a look down the hall that made Levy wonder what ‘insurance’ he could have possibly used against the other poor souls on this floor. “Even when I thought I had truly molded him into the weapon we needed, he still found a way to defy me. And I will not be defied. Not this time. Not when I have worked so hard to expand this company.” There was an edge to his words, and she could see him grip his hands together with white knuckles for several tense moments before he relaxed himself and rolled the tension off his shoulders. “Besides, do you really think I can let you walk, knowing what you do? With all that snooping you’ve done? You did this to yourself; how you must wish you had stayed in your quiet little house.”

Levy had nothing to say, and for a moment she wondered if she would have been better off never finding Gajeel or the lab. If she should have just killed her curiosity and let the legend be a legend. No. I can’t live with that kind of ignorance, she berated herself. The girl had no idea what would become of her here, or if she would ever see the sun again let alone Gajeel. But she could not justify having not tried to stop such a terrible injustice.

“I have yet to decide if I want to make better use of you once I’ve sold him, so you are more than welcome to hold your breath on that. Know that if you try any heroics, you will make his life considerably worse,” he turned to fully face her, leaning forward to place both hands on either arm of her chair. “And I am sure you are not ignorant to how hellish I can make things for him. So do be a dear and do as you’re told. Quietly,” his tone had dropped, threatening her. “Your life is in just as much his hands as he is in yours.”

“You’re sick,” Levy muttered, having lost what little confidence she came in there with.

“I prefer brilliant,” the proud man replied as he pulled back, standing straight. “We are going to have such an interesting dynamic here, Miss McGarden. I can see it.” His eyes flicked up to the silent, shell of a man across from them. “We have learned from our mistakes, and we have built something even greater.” A wistful smile, like that of a man who truly believed he was doing something great, crossed his face.

“Now, enough of my talking. You need to rest. I’d love to show you the training hall next. Although you already got a taste of it in the field,” he smirked, glancing to her wound. “But I do have to listen to my medical team sometimes and the last I need is you dying before I even get any return from you on the resources you’re graciously being supplied…” With that, Jose gave her a taunting wave as she was turned away, her gaze falling on Gajeel last.

The broken shadow of the man that had tried so very hard to save them both from this. Her gaze lingered as long as it could, as though begging him to see her--sense her--until he faded from view with the rest of the line of poor souls, whose lives were in just as much ruin as Gajeel. Her heart bled for all of them, wondering if any of them had someone to care for them anymore. What had Jose used against them to bend them beyond the conditioning?

Where is she, where is she?! Give her back to me! I won’t let you have her! Get me OUT of here! I will tear this whole damn place down to the ground again. I will finish it! Give her back to me! Don’t fuckin’ touch m--

How violently you still fight against me now that you’ve lost. You’re home again, X777. Give in, give up. You know I hate the giving you the shocks like this.

I’ll fucking kill you, Jose! This is over! Give! Her! Back!

Oh how you call for her, you pitiful beast. ‘Where is she?’ Don’t you know?

The fuck you talkin’ about?!

Levy is dead.

The girl died right there, in your arms. You brought her to her death.

She lost too much blood.

X772 tore her up, fragile thing.

What a foolish decision she made to interfere.

You have nothing left to fight for. You have nothing left to live for. Come home, let me give you purpose.

Naïve boy, just give up. Don’t fight us, let the medicine kick in again.

There now. I will make it all go away.

That’s it, that’s a good soldier.

Don’t move, now.

The other men had left after ensuring all his sedation lines were connected through his cuffs and thoroughly pumping him with everything that would keep him on his knees, and prevent any more outbursts like the one just before they arrived. Had he not already still felt the effects of the first round, he might have been coherent enough to get past them. But his limbs failed him, and his blurred vision betrayed him. His back still tingled where the voltage had hit him to get him back down to start with.

Ruby eyes, dull like dying coals, turned slowly towards the front of his cell. Through the open doors he saw the devil, standing, watching.

Waiting. There was a small stirring, the remnants of a former self that still felt revulsion for the man.

What did hatred matter now? What did any of it matter? He was right back where he started. And because of him, because of his delusions, he had her blood on his hands. Blood they hadn’t washed off of him. It was entirely his fault, and as the stink of it constantly bombarded his nostrils, he couldn’t even try to convince himself that it wasn’t.

The last thing that he remembered was her screaming, shaking in his arms. He hadn’t been able to escape the sound for a second since he awoke. It was the last memory he had of her and it was seared so profoundly into his mind that by no normal means would he ever be able to escape it. It was a sound, an image, and a guilt that would haunt him as long as he was… himself.

All at once, he didn’t want to be Gajeel anymore. The monster outside his cell became less and less an object of fear and hatred, and more of a means of escape. An escape from anything that was left of himself. A door to what they wanted him to be: a mindless number.

That was a man that had taken everything from him, and it was a man that could take everything of him. Everything that would perpetuate the agony he felt, the parts of him that knew, loved and remembered Levy McGarden could be taken so easily by Jose. That was the man that could destroy Gajeel Redfox one last time and leave only the emotionless, unattached X777.

He wholly relinquished himself to that. Welcomed it.

There was nothing else left for him.

The doors finally slid shut, leaving him in the sealed box with only the emergency light flashing after he had destroyed the main bulb. Gajeel turned back to face the wall and pressed his forehead on the cold surface, barely noting the sensation with how much tranquilizer had been pumped into his system.

Just as deserving of love and kindness as anyone else.

Every one of his muscles tensed and a snarl contorted his face as he headbutted the wall in front of him, shattering that image he had of her. With one final expulsion of the last bit of strength he had, Gajeel Redfox roared everything that was left of him into oblivion.

#gajevy #fanfiction #ftfanfics #fairy tail #gajeel redfox #levy mcgarden

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monstersarealwayshungryrpg-blog · 7 years

Photo

Name: Gavin Mason Crow Age: 25 Gender: Male Sexuality: Asexual Occupation: Hacker Affiliation: Neutral Faceclaim: Freddie Highmore Status: Taken

The Story

They call you The Hermit, an old soul trapped inside a young body. Others often thrive in numbers, but you thrive in your solitude, desperately needing a place to think on your own, alone but not lonely. It is a rarity for you to venture outside of your comfort zone, a computer and animal at your side are your daily companions. You believe the world is a mystery and while fascinated by it, you are much more intrigued by yourself and those closest to you. You are meticulous and often over-critical of yourself, focusing on the smallest of details, a quality that stems from your past, along with the relentless desire to prove yourself.

Connections:

Justice - There is something in who Justice is as a person that you admire. They seem to encompass everything you wish you could be, but aren’t. You have worked together in the past, only small jobs, giving answers when they couldn’t get them on their own, and even though you know what they do, you are never uncomfortable around them.

Death - Maybe it who he is, or maybe it’s the looks he sometimes gives you when no one else is watching, maybe you are imagining these looks but you can’t help but hold your breath and falter in your words whenever Death speaks to you.

The Chariot - You aren’t someone to make friends, not easily at least, so it was odd for you when the ease of your friendship with The Chariot blossomed. They are almost your exact opposite, spending their life behind a wheel in the real world while you are content with your fingers on a keyboard, but for some reason the two of you just work.

Past:

Gavin was born the third of four to an overwhelmed and underprepared middle-class family. The children were born close together, only four years between Gavin and his older brother and less than two between him and his younger sister. Four under seven was a handful in and of itself, but it became worse as it became obvious that Gavin was lagging behind the others. At first, his frazzled parents just assumed the delayed improvement was just him growing up at his own pace. However, as his younger sister’s vocabulary started to surpass his and he started to pull away even more from spending time with his siblings, his parents realized that perhaps there was something a bit more going on with their youngest son. It was the meltdowns, occurring nearly every time things got too loud or bright, that eventually got them to give up and seek professional help.

He was eight before the diagnosis of Asperger’s Syndrome was given. To the boy, the diagnosis unsurprisingly meant nothing, not even worth a pause in his current fascination of counting items around the room. However, to his parents this news was devastating, they had maintained hope that this was something “fixable” and not something that would stay with their son for the rest of his life. There was an upside to the diagnosis though, now that they knew the issue steps could be taken to work with it. Through therapy, Gavin did begin to speak more frequently and was starting to get better control over his meltdowns. While still quirky and behind where was “normal” for his age range, he was finally making progress.

By middle school, he was at the same intelligence level as peers his age, which meant that he could join the regular classes most of the day. This may have been good for his education, but it was very hard on him personally. He still had very poor social skills and got obsessive over his special interests. That, in combination with the fact that he came from the special education wing, did not bode well for his social status. He was bullied mercilessly when his siblings weren’t around. His older brothers got in a lot of fights those years, but Gavin did not care about the teasing he got on a regular basis. He just cared about his action figures and finding people who wouldn’t interrupt him when he told them about all that he had collected. Those people were few and far between though, and that, more than the bullying, made him feel like there was something wrong with him.

High school was a better time. Gavin was still more socially awkward than your average freshman geek was, but at least now people knew better than to mock the guy with Asperger’s. He wasn’t exactly a bright student, but he was average. Until, one day when he was 16, he discovered the love of his life: computers. Obviously, he had seen and used computers before, but the first semester of his junior year he took a programming course and everything just clicked. Code was something that he could understand and manipulate. Unlike other people, he could hold a conversation with a computer, telling it what needed to be done and how to do it and getting the results he wanted. He learned code quickly, once he sets his mind to something it won’t take him long to get it done.

Computers weren’t the only thing that made that class great though, there was also George. Despite high schoolers being kinder than their middle school selves, Gavin still did not have any friends outside of his siblings. This did not really bother him, per se, but he still was quite pleased by the prospect of having someone to discuss his newfound love with. George did not mind that Gavin would ramble on about the same things that they had talked about yesterday, nor did he really care that the other boy wouldn’t really carry on a conversation about something else that often. They would stay up late coding little programs and turning hacking into a game, taking turns playing the defender while the other tried to get past firewall after firewall. Their friendship forced Gavin to go outside of his comfort zone. It did not take long for him to realize that George was going to do things whether Gavin wanted to or not. So, if he wanted to talk to George about the code that they had been working on the night before, he had to go to the comic book store whether he wanted to or not.

Once he had graduated high school, Gavin was a bit lost. There was a sudden loss of structure in his life that he had relied on, and George was moving away to go to university. Gavin wanted to follow his friend to university, but just going to the campus tour was enough to show him and his parents that being on site for university was not going to be for him. He ended up in a two year online program for computer sciences. This was the first time Gavin was actually bothered by his disability. He saw his siblings and friend move out and away, while he was still at home dependent on his parents. It was a feeling that he couldn’t fully shake, that he wasn’t “right” like the others were.

After finishing his degree, things started to look up. His father’s company needed a part time computer tech and he was able to find freelance coding jobs on the side. It wasn’t exactly a high paying position, but it was a stable income and he enjoyed the work. Plus, he wasn’t expected to work face to face with others, most of his work could be done from home and that which couldn’t was usually by himself as well. Eventually he was able to make enough that he could move into a modest apartment for himself, not too far from his parents but enough that he felt more independent.

Present:

Since then, Gavin has continued to do well for himself. In the five years since he graduated, he has built a name for himself in freelance coding. He also managed to build a name for himself in the hacker communities. Initially, the hacking jobs had been a way to connect with George despite being separated, a sort of competition of who could do the most impressive hacks. They wouldn’t mess up anything, just get enough evidence to prove that they had done it. As time went on, George took part in this less and less, but Gavin thrived in the environment and continued to share his accomplishments with the online community well after his friend had fallen off the radar.

It was likely this infamy that had the Arcana knocking on his door late one night. He didn’t want to open the door, but the pounding was so insistent that he feared they would come in one way or another. They didn’t really give him much choice in the matter, simply giving him instructions and a date to have it done by and motivating him with the threat of revealing who he was to the authorities. Gavin may not always be the fastest on the uptake with veiled statements, but he was able to tell that the authorities would not be as amused by his hacking escapades as the other hackers. So, he did the job, and he did it well. It was a fairly simple task, but the mob paid well. He became accustomed to their requests, though he would always refuse their offers to have him join. He is, after all, a freelancer.

Personality:

Gavin has Asperger’s Syndrome. This disorder affects him in a few different ways, but the main one is his ability to socialize. He can have a hard time socializing, understanding social cues, and properly expressing himself. His speech is more formal than that of his peers, and he struggles to understand idioms and slang. He will take people at their word most of the time, and will have a hard time understand jokes and sarcasm. He can be a bit of a chatter box, and will ramble on about the things that he is currently interested in at great length if given the chance. He has a hard time sorting his thoughts into private thoughts and thoughts to verbalized, so if surprised or nervous he often blurts out whatever is on his mind. Another effect of his disorder is that he does not like changes in his routine, and will often get upset at differences that others might consider inconsequential. Despite being generally free of any outside deadlines and expectations, Gavin will set strict routines and schedules for himself to follow. Finally, his Asperger’s has come with two other diagnosis, general anxiety disorder and sensory processing disorder. His anxiety is well managed with his medication, but the sensory processing will still affect him if put in a situation with too much external stimuli.

He comes off as rather cold or anxious to those who do not know him. He may also come off as cold to those he does care about, but that is not truly the case. Instead it is just because he has a hard time showing care and empathy. He looks up to people who are able to do what he is not, such as The Chariot who is able to experience the world out in it instead of just from behind the computer screen. He will not pay attention or will get frustrated with subjects that do not interest or affect him. However, he gets overly excited about things that he does care about. He does have anxiety issues that become apparent in situations that make him nervous. However, in the day to day he usually seems content and has a generally positive outlook on things.

#the hermit #all #skeleton rpg #oc rp #role: taken

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