#can you imagine the timeline where loathing did get the fix when he went to see mark#and then he gives that fact before attempting to fucking take out the rest of the crew???#DONT LEAVE THIS IN THE TAGS OP#SOMEONE WRITE THIS FANFIC <- tags from this post
Well @clownjacket You're in luck because I'm procrastinating HARD this week and that means apparently all I needed was your prompting to crank out over 2000 words in 24 hours :)
You can read on AO3 here: Lazer Focus
Or here under the cut :)
As Dramatic exits from the Police Station go, Hunch Curio has made some pretty impressive ones. But this one has to be pretty far up the list he thinks. Especially with Dan Fucks and Justin trailing behind him.
It looses points for the fact that no one is yelling for them to stop or 'get back here' yet though.
Hunch grins as he spots a police car swerving dangerously as it pulls up to the curb. Bonus points for the get-away car.
“That looks like Conrad's driving!” Hunch says, exuberant.
“Oh good. Little rapscallion’s making himself useful at least.” Dan pants, as Hunch jogs up to the slightly smoking police car.
“Hey boys!” Conrad grins, resting one arm out the window.
“Hi Conrad!” Justin puts both front paws on the door to lick the kid’s face. “I’m so glad to see you… Dan fucking killed the chief of police!”
“He What?!” Anastasia yelps head appearing from the backseat. Dan clears his throat.
“Ah, yes. Well “
“Old news.” Hunch interjects. “Norel Ojical was the one that bought the gun they used to blow up the keyhole in Cerebell Pacific!”
“Why would Norel want to destroy a keyhole?” Imelda asks, leaning down to look out the window as well.
“Well I don’t know yet-“ Hunch says “But I’m working on some theories.”
“Yes!” Dan seconds. “And didn’t you say you had a lead on where he bought the weapon?”
Hunch snaps his fingers. “Right! Yeah - Thalmus & Sons, and I never been there but I gotta know what they have in stock.”
A door bangs open behind them.
“Stop! Murder! We’re the Police!”
“Time to go!” Imelda shouts. Conrad hesitates for a half second before he nods resolutely.
“Lets roll!” Anastasia throws the back door open and Dan and Hunch scramble in as Justin simply jumps through the driver’s window, scrambling into Imelda’s lap.
The engine roars and Conrad swings the car back onto the road.
"Wait Dan you said you killed the chief of police?” Anastasia demands. She’s produced a notepad from somewhere in her coat and is tapping her pen against the spine.
“Not on purpose.” Dan says. “I simply went to escape my handcuffs and when they sprang open BAM! He just keeled over. Dead at the Desk!"
“Hmm.” Anastasia scribbles something down in her notebook. “And you’re sure it was you?”
“Oh yeah. I saw it.” Justin says leaning into the back seat. “It was real dramatic. I wasn’t sure what to think at first, but y’know all the cops in this city are kind of huge assholes anyway."
“So I can't help but notice we're missing someone." Hunch interrupts. “Has anyone seen The Fix lately? “
“Yes where did our large companion make it to?” Dan seconds, glancing around the car. “You’d think it’d be a lot harder to lose someone of his size in this city.”
There's a moment of uncomfortable silence as they realize none of them have an answer.
“It might not be anything too serious. Did we even agree on a meeting place before splitting up?” Hunch asks.
“Thats true!” Dan agrees. “Maybe he just got held up at the D.A.’s office and wasn’t sure where we went!”
“Maybe-“ Conrad says doubtfully. The silence stretches again.
“Maybe I should have gone with him…” Conrad says “Maybe Mr Bition didn’t believe him.”
“Absolutely not.” Imelda says
“Hmph yes.” Dan says. “If The Fix has found trouble, a little rapscallion like yourself would have no chance!”
“Well maybe but-“
“I mean if they were able to stop The Fix what would we have done?” Justin asks forlornly.
“Do you think the D.A. did something?” Anastasia asks, after a moment.
“Well he was one of the first ones to put a hit out on Conrad here.” Hunch agrees.
Anastasia twitches her pen between her fingers. “What if he found something out to do with that key we saw at the Occulus? The one that might have had something to do with Mr Ojical’s death?”
“That key looked like bad news.” Imelda agrees. As Conrad swerves around a chunk of debris, throwing Dan into Hunch and Anastasia in the back seat.
"Well maybe we should find The Fix first" Imelda suggests.
"I see no reason to go haring off when we don't know where to start looking." Dan grouses. Anastasia taps her pen on the back window suddenly.
"We're not too far from the DA's office, we could drive by and see if we spot anything."
"Yes lets!" Imelda agrees, craning her neck to look off the overpass.
"Well I mean I would like to know-" Hunch is cut off by Dan’s hand in his face again as Conrad swerves into the offramp towards the DA's office.
“I’m sure he’s fine. I can’t think of many things that would be able to stop The Fix.“ Justin says uncertainly. Conrad’s hands tighten on the wheel as the rest of the adults look at each other uncomfortably.
“Look! There!” Anastasia shouts suddenly. Conrad slams on the brakes and they all peer out of the windows at The Fix, looming out of an alley a few metres ahead of them.
Conrad throws his door open darting forward. “Mister the Fix!” Conrad exclaims.
“Conrad.” The Fix’s voice stops Conrad cold. It’s flat, sharp around the edges.
“Hey Fix! Bout time you showed up! Whats- with the look?” Hunch steps up beside Conrad.
“You know.” The Fix says slowly. “We’re going to an awful lot of trouble for this kid and I’m not sure why.”
At Conrad’s knee, Justin starts to growl, hackles rising as the big man takes another step forward, there’s something not quite right about his eyes. Conrad realizes.
“Well what should we do?” Anastasia demands, hand coming down on Conrad’s shoulder, and pulling him back, behind her. “Its not like anyone else in this city is trying to save the big guy’s life!”
“Did you know?” The Fix says, taking another deliberate step forward, “That approximately 200 million years,”Hunch braces his feet and Anastasia reaches for a non-existent weapon.
“The Asian and American Continents will collide, and form a super continent.” Conrad trips over his feet and the Fix’s gaze swivels to him - irises glowing pure-scalding white.
“So I’m not sure any of this matters.”
There’s a buzzing in the back of Conrad’s skull. The key. This has to be the Key, the Psychometer. This is what it does.
The Fix hits Hunch hard enough to lift the slight detective off his feet. Anastasia throws herself aside, narrowly avoiding the back-swing. Conrad scrambles to his feet and bolts, colliding with Dan as the man comes around the car.
“Conrad you little shit! What’s taking so-“ Fucks cuts himself off as he takes in the scene. “What the Devil?!”
The Fix is closing the distance fast and Conrad ducks around Dan, scrambling past a pile of debris on the street. “Now hold on Fix! What do you think you're doing?” Dan demands as the Fix reaches him.
“Dan Fucks" There's contempt in The Fix's tone. "Another Distraction.” Dan yelps as the Fix’s fist comes down on him.
“Hey Fix!” Imelda shouts throwing a rock of rubble at The Fix from behind.
He stagger steps whirling on her. “Now I don’t know much but I don’t think you‘re the kind of man to hunt a child.” Imelda says backing away slowly. “Why I’d say quite the opposite actually, so why don’t you tell me what the hell you think you’re doing.”
Conrad hesitates, he’s only a few feet from the car. Hunch and Anastasia are still picking themselves up off the asphalt.
“I’m doing - My Job.” The Fix says and Imelda narrowly avoids his fist.
“Conrad run” Anastasia shouts from where she’s scrambling to her feet.
Conrad shudders he wants to run. Hunch is dragging himself to his feet cradling an arm that looks broken.
He can’t run. Its not right. ‘Get out of here you little shit.’ Dan hisses, staggering to his feet.
Conrad doesn’t move. Its not right to leave his friends behind. He scans the street and spots a building, leaning dangerously, probably damaged when the freeway collapsed.
“Hey! Mr The Fix!!” Conrad shouts.
White eyes swivel to him and the buzzing in the back of Conrad’s skull prickles like TV static as the pure lazer focus is turned on him. “I know the Psychometer got to you, Mr The Fix. And I know that's not your fault, but I can’t let you hurt my friends.”
The Fix doesn’t respond, pacing towards Conrad, completely ignoring the shouts of the others behind him. Conrad makes himself move slowly as he backs towards the broken building.
“I know.” Conrad says, trying not to let his voice shake. “I know the Psychometer is making you think this is the only option, but it’s wrong! This matters, what we do matters, Norel died trying to defend the Big Guy! The packet could save hundreds of people!” Conrad can see Imelda, Hunch, Dan and Anastasia scrambling to their feet behind the Fix.
“Nothing we do matters.” The Fix asserts fists balling as he steps into the alley. “This is all a distraction.” Conrad realizes with a sinking feeling that he’s not going to make it under the overhang in time. “You’re a distraction.” The Fix says. And strikes faster than thought.
Conrad throws himself out of the way.
He lands on his hands and knees.
Dimly he can hear Hunch shouting and Imelda, and his hand is closing over something metal.
The Fix is crouching, staring at him with cold white eyes. Instinctively, Conrad slashes at the Fix's face with the metal in his hand.
“We’ve wasted too much time on you.” The Fix snaps. There's blood running down his face and Conrad glances down at the skate blade in his hand, and his momentary distraction is when The Fix's hand closes around him.
"No More distractions." The Fix says a hint of something like desperation creeping into his tone even though his eyes are still uncanny. Conrad glances down, eyes drawn to a white slot in the Fix's chest.
“Elias needs to Focus-“ Conrad drives the skate blade into The Fix’s chest.
There is a moment where Conrad thinks his ribs might crack as the crackling static rings in his ears, louder, Louder, and then -
Fix’s grip goes slack, Conrad staggers back, something like a sob building in the back of his throat as the metal warms in his hand.
“Conrad!” Anastasia shouts, she darts past where the Fix has slumped against the wall of the building,
“Conrad are you ok?” Hunch asks, peering at him, positioned squarely between Conrad and The Fix’s inert form.
Over Anastasia’s shoulder Conrad can see Imelda and Dan hot on their heels.
Conrad glances down at the skate blade, bracing himself for blood.
Instead he finds a small silver key resting in his palm.
“Oh, Conrad are you ok?” Justin demands, nosing into Conrad’s chest. Conrad nods slowly, unable to tear his gaze from the key.
“Yeah, yeah I’m ok, I have a key.”
“A Key?” Dan exclaims clapping a damp hand on Conrad’s shoulder and leaning in. “You little rapscallion! Where have you been hiding a key?”
“I don’t know.” Conrad says honestly. “It just appeared when I tried to stop The Fix.”
“Did stop the Fix you mean - oh SHIT.” Hunch yelps as The Fix moves, sitting up. Hunch jumps back and the others close ranks around Conrad, but The Fix’s eyes are back to normal, aside from the slight sheen of confusion.
“Mister The Fix?” Conrad worms his way between Anastasia and Imelda to wave a little, The Fix’s gaze settles on him and realization flashes over him.
“Fuck” The Fix says, and honestly, Conrad agrees with the sentiment. “Conrad are you ok? I didn’t - I didn’t hurt you?”
“Yeah. I’m ok.” Conrad steps out infront of the others, “And I have a key now!” he holds out his palm. The Fix stares at the tiny key, expression caught somewhere between guilt and relief.
"You sure do kid-"
"Hey how'd the Psycometer get you?" Hunch demands, cutting in excitedly and The Fix surges to his feet. “Shit! Listen I - I'm real sorry but we don't have time, Madame Loathing. Self Loathing - She has the Psychometer. She’s looking for a new keyhole.”
“Madame Loathing has the Psychometer?” Conrad asks
“You mean she’s corrupted? Like you were?” The Fix shakes his head grimly.
“No, no she’s using it. She got Mr Bition, she got me -“
“Well if Loathing is in charge the revolution is going to be a long time coming.” Dan says.
“She must not know where all the keyholes are.” Hunch says “If she hasn’t done it yet.”
“But the repairs must be almost done at Cerebell Pacific.” Imelda points out.
“And there’s Oblongata station.” Anastasia says.
"Yeah." The Fix moves to rub the back of his neck. "I think I may have mentioned Oblongata station. But she was waiting for something before venturing out-”
Any other information is drowned out by the low roar of an engine as headlights flash over the six of them. A shiny black car pulls into the alley, blocking off their escape.
The street-lamps behind the car spark with excess energy as the the door opens.
“Well well well. Imagine meeting you folks here.” Don Avaricci grins, cigar clamped between his teeth as he reaches for his breast pocket.
“Wuh Oh.” Hunch says.
44 notes
·
View notes
Dragon's Tongue
✧ Nebarra x human!LDB, ft. Xelzaz & Khash
✧ Fluff, minor angst; 1300+ words
♫ "You And I (Stripped)" - PVRIS
✒ Something short n sweet today, I'm feeling soft
Nebarra was loath to admit it to himself, and he'd die before ever saying it aloud, but the Rift really was beautiful. Nothing compared to Alinor, to be sure, but... all the gold reminded him of home. And when he passed by a small, isolated farm, he could almost see himself on its porch, see his brother leaning against the door.
The illusions were younger, happier versions of themselves. So much more innocent, faces bright with naivety, eyes shining with plans for the future.
And then he'd gone to war.
He'd lost... so much of himself, in the deserts of Hammerfell. They had scorched and burned him inside and out, slowly bleeding him dry with every comrade he saw fall. And all that, for what? For all the Altmer's supposed superiority, the campaign had failed on all fronts – Hammerfell's walls and people defied them, and Cyrodiil remained in power, weakened but still unbroken.
How could the Thalmor still strut about, arrogant to Aetherius and back, when they had failed so miserably? How could they look at the faces of the families whose children and lovers they'd sent to die and only tell them they'd "served their purpose"?
Nebarra couldn't.
He couldn't face them at all. Not even through pen and paper, leagues away from ever having to look them in the eyes, ever having to see the pain and loss in their gaze.
Where the Thalmor were heartless, he was a coward.
And he didn't know which was worse.
~~~
Night fell, and you called the group to halt, to make camp until dawn. Nebarra set up the tent as you argued with Xelzaz, trying to convince him that no, he shouldn't summon a flame atronach and then kill it for its fire salts, no matter how good it would make dinner taste. Khash merely looked on, muching on some clover she'd picked up somewhere.
At last though, you got Xelzaz to relent, though he asked you to gather some herbs in exchange, listing off the plants he wanted you to find.
"Ah... and take Nebarra with you."
The elf froze. Turned slowly towards the lizard. Demanded, "What? Why?"
"Two eyes are better than one," he shrugged, "and that much safer, as well. We don't know what's out there, and I'm pretty sure we passed a necromantic altar on our way here."
At that, you groaned, head rolling back like a teenager who'd just been told to do their chores. "Gods, not another one. Why do we always seem to run into those?"
"Luck of the Dragonborn? Anyway, off with you now – I have to get set up. Let's see, in whose pack did I leave my cooking pot...? Khash! Come help me with this!"
And just like that he walked off, leaving you and Nebarra alone by the campfire. A chuckle escaped you, and he glanced over to see you shaking your head. "I'm surprised he didn't tell us to hold hands, too, so we don't lose each other in the dark."
"Yeah, I'm not holding your hand," Nebarra snarked. And it was true. Absolutely true. Totally, one-hundred percent true.
"Oh wow, Nebs, that one almost hurt." Your soft laugh seemed to echo in his ears, his mind. "Come on, let's go – I don't suppose you heard any of the plants he wants?"
Blue and yellow mountain flowers, to restore and fortify. Purple for rejuvenation, and to give to Khash. Scaly pholiota for fiber and strengthening. Wild gourds and dragon's togue for flavour.
He snorted from behind his helm. "That would require paying attention to him."
"Should have known," you sighed. "Alright, listen up before I forget: blue, yellow, and purple mountain flowers, scaly pholiota, and dragon's tongue. And be careful with the purple mountain flowers, they're gifts for Khash. Oh, he also wants some wild gourds. Got it?"
"...Yeah, yeah. Let's just get going."
He definitely hadn't feigned ignorance just to hear your voice some more. Definitely not.
~~~
"Ah, back at last! Perfect," Xelzaz said, stirring something in a pot over the fire. "Now I can get the real meal started."
"Then what's this?" Nebarra demanded as Xelzaz handed him a bowl, in exchange for the plants the Altmer carried. Even through his gauntlets he could feel its warmth, and a rich, savory scent drifted up through the slits of his helmet.
"Something amazing, from the smell," you sighed, and Nebarra didn't have to look to know you were drooling.
"Just a little sometime to hold you over," the Argonian demurred, handing you a bowl as well. "Thought I'd experiment with some of the flora I've gathered thus far."
That gave Nebarra pause. "Wait – experiment? That's settled, I'm not eating this."
"If you don't want it–"
Your words were drowned out by Khash's eager shout of, "I'll eat it! I'll take your bowl!" She rushed over to him, red eyes trained on the food.
"Khash, you had your share," Xelzaz chided. "Any more and you won't have room for the rest of dinner."
"Yes, I will! I have room for anything you make."
"She's got a point," you laughed, and Nebarra slowly, wordlessly handed her the bowl.
"I'll go keep watch," he grumbled, turning away.
"Oh, don't be like that! Nebarra!" When he didn't respond, you sighed, calling after him, "Alright, go sulk! I'll make sure Xelzaz doesn't poison your share, though you kind of deserve it!"
His back still towards you, Nebarra raised his hand in a rude gesture, and your laughter rang through the night.
Some thirty minutes later, he heard footsteps approaching; he didn't need to turn to know it was you. Your tread was distinct from the others, weighted with determination and confidence, whereas Xelzaz's was soft and steady, and Khash's light and hesitant.
"Here. Eat." Despite the short words, your tone was gentle, and Nebarra looked over to see you holding a plate out towards him, laden with a slab of meat and wild berries to the side. "It's delicious, and unpoisoned."
"How would you know?" he sniffed, catching a whiff of the food in the process. It... did smell amazing. "Did you try it?"
"I did, actually. Stole some of your steak when Xelzaz wasn't looking. And since I'm still standing here pestering you, I guess that means it's clean."
Nebarra paused, eyes training on your face. Half of it was wreathed in shadow, only the gleam of your eyes visible; the other half was illuminated by the campfire, revealing the soft smile you wore.
You... had a nice smile.
And before he could stop himself, he mumbled, "You're not... pestering me."
Surprise flickered in your gaze – surprise, and something else. Something he told himself he didn't recognise, refused to recognise.
After a moment, you said softly, "That's... good to hear, then. Because I have something else for you, too." Reaching down with your free hand, you pulled something from your belt and held it out before him. "I saved one, 'cause it reminded me of you."
Nebarra stared. There, held gently between your fingers, was a dragon's tongue flower, petals open wide and colours vibrant in full bloom. "This... reminded you of me?"
"It's gold. Just like you."
"...You really do have trouble with your eyesight, don't you? These are orange."
"Eh, close enough." You shrugged, the smile never leaving your face.
Slowly, Nebarra reached out and, ignoring the plate of food, took the flower carefully, delicately from your grasp, cradling it in his palm. "...Am I supposed to say thank you?"
"You just did." As he raised a brow from the shadows of his helm, you set the plate on a nearby rock and tapped the gauntlet that held the flower. "You accepted it."
He couldn't deny it. "Think you got me all figured out then, huh?"
Something in your smile shifted, your gaze flickering. "No. Not yet, anyways. But... I think I'd like to." And with that, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving him alone in the dark, stunned.
And that night, as he sat in the shadows of the campfire, he stared at the flower for a long, long time.
46 notes
·
View notes