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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 2 years ago

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For every action, a reaction - Chapter 1 - Inertia

Pairing: Raven Scientist (Victoria Van Gale/The Raven Leader)

Summary: Taking a step back from our poetry nerds, this instalment focuses on academic research projects, less than legal shenanigans, and most importantly, two coworkers who are smart enough to be geniuses in their respective areas but apparently not enough to confess.

Over the span of two decades.

Seriously.

Somebody has to do something. Before all their students lose their minds.

Updates weekly.

Notes: Hey, you guys! Welcome to another part in the Carpe Diem series. This one diverges a bit from the previous content (as you may have guessed from the lack of latin motto title), but it was still planned alongside the other fics in the verse and was intended to be part of the story all along. I'd strongly reccomend reading the previous instalments in the verse before getting to this, however, in case sketchbook is not your jam, I guess I should just say that this is an University AU and release you into the wild. Hope you have fun, because I sure had a blast writing it!

You hear those cries for help? Yeah, I currently have @waddles-ex-machina locked in my basement. Only gonna let her out if I hear you all guys saying 'thank you, waddles'. Takes a real trooper to proof read this thing, let me tell you. Brb gotta go check if she's doing well inside the lil cage (which is to say, once more, thank you so much, waddles. you're a true angel <3)

Read it on ao3: (Carpe Diem verse) (This chapter)

When Victoria first came to the University of Trolberg, she was full of energy and eager to prove herself. The university had accepted her for their doctorate program, during which she’d also be an assistant professor to the Weather Sciences undergrads, and she couldn’t wait to spread the knowledge she’d acquired (and to get even more in the process).

The project she was working on wasn't exactly revolutionary; she’d get there, eventually, there was still time. But it was something that made her heart beat faster, so she was sure she’d end up doing a better job than all those stuffy professors who walked around like the world had done them a disservice by existing. Victoria was excited by the knowledge and the possibilities, and she was sure that that was the right path.

Before the school year even began, she found herself treading through the campus grounds, holding in her hands a device she’d helped build. Her current research was on the effect aerosols had on the weather, so she’d decided that measuring the concentrations of those particles in the area she’d be studying for the next couple of years would be helpful.

One thing she hadn’t taken into consideration, however, was the fact that for her being focused meant losing any notion of time. And space. And reality. And, well, anything that would be useful to her in an unfamiliar, open field. But that was just life, wasn’t it?

She’d been in the middle of gently hitting her device, since its panel had started showing readings that were most certainly not true, when an all too familiar rumble filled the air. Victoria should have realised this was coming, it was her job, goddamnit, but she’d been too immersed in walking around with her measuring machine and writing its readings down to notice the things that really mattered: the static in the atmosphere, the humidity, the clouds closing in and blocking the sunlight.

The price for her misstep came in the form of heavy drops of cold water. Knowing that rain was only the first step, and that soon lightning would likely follow, Victoria began running away as fast as she could. At some point during her walking, she’d entered a forest that she assumed was where the Biology people did their field work, and among the trees she had remained. If she wanted to survive much longer, though, she would have to change that immediately.

Victoria barely felt the weight of her backpack as she jumped over fallen tree branches and dodged puddles of mud. What was truly bothering her were her clothes; the feeling of wet clothes sticking to her skin drove her insane, making her wonder how wise it was to stop running and take them all off. In the end she decided that risking death by lightning or by pneumonia wasn’t worth it, but spent her entire marathon cursing the water that dripped from her clothes and down her legs, soaking her socks inside her galoches. As soon as she was safe, she promised herself she’d fling them far, far away.

Strands of black hair stuck to her forehead, but she didn’t have the time to stop and tie them back, even if they drove her as insane as her clothes. She needed to get out of there, if lightning began and hit one of the trees near her, she was a dead woman.

Or at least a really angry and hurt one.

When finally the limit of the forest came into sight, Victoria almost laughed in victory; she only didn’t do so because she realised that what came next was an open field, and if any rays decided to fall in the general vicinity, she’d certainly be taken for target. There really was no way to win.

Breathing heavily, she stopped running when she reached the border of the forest. Water and wind clouded her vision and made her eyes sting, and with the part of her brain that hadn’t been overcome by adrenaline and sent into survival mode she thought that it would have been much smarter of her to have turned back the way she came when the rain started, instead of running further into the unknown. But there was no turning back now.

There was a scream in the distance.

With the gale ricocheting all around her, it was a wonder she even heard it, and a miracle she didn’t assume that it was coming from inside her own mind. But another second of attention made her recognize the scream for what it was.

An offer of help.

“Over here!” The voice shouted. “A few more metres! There’s shelter!”

Fuck it. Victoria thought. I’m gonna die anyway, it might as well be in the hands of a stranger in the woods. I hope they make a true crime podcast about me.

So she ran. And when she was close enough that the curtain of falling water didn’t stop her from seeing it, a small cottage showed itself to her with all the grandiosity of an oasis in the desert.

Almost as soon as she was on the porch, a towel was put over her shoulders. She was told to take off her boots and go inside the house, where the person who had shouted after her, a woman with a kind smile and short brown hair made her sit in front of the fire to warm herself.

She was safe. That same woman would later on give her a warm change of clothes and a mug of tea, and tell her she’d only been able to see her because of the light coming from her device, which had not resisted the run through the open field. That would lead them to talk about Victoria’s project, which would in return spark a conversation about the woman’s job, and lead them to the realisation that they worked for the same university now, and would be kind of like coworkers once classes began.

And that was the first time Victoria met Birgitta Bloom.

………

The first time the Earth Sciences department organised a joint lecture and invited both of them to be in it, it had seemed like a happy coincidence. It had still been early on in the semester, but the head of the department had found it best to offer that presentation as soon as possible; conclusions about climate change became more worrying by the second, after all. At that point, they had already become friendly acquaintances, waving and smiling at each other whenever they crossed paths in a corridor and following each other on facebook, however little they both used it.

It was by doing so, in fact, that Victoria had found out that the cottage she’d met Birgitta in was her own, and part of the land she and a couple of other sponsors had bought in order to keep it for conservation. It was a budding project, but a noble one in Victoria’s opinion, and the only thing that surprised her about it was that apparently during her foray she’d left the campus’ grounds without even noticing. She only hoped there hadn’t been any fences she’d jumped over, because otherwise she’d really need to worry about her lack of attention to her surroundings.

Excited about having been invited to take part in something like that, Victoria had found Birgitta in her office and invited her over for coffee at her apartment, so that they could plan their lesson properly.

That was a normal thing that coworkers did on a strictly professional scope, right?

Not having had a car, or any loved ones living in Trolberg when she moved there for her doctorate, Victoria hadn’t seen the point in renting a place in town. Instead, she lived in an apartment complex that was just outside of campus, like most students who were there to continue their education after their masters degree.

They took the ten minute walk there together, shooting ideas for the lecture at each other. She kept worrying she’d run out of things to say, and then the silence between them would be awkward, but it hadn’t been the case. It seemed like the more they talked, the more they had to discuss with each other.

Her apartment wasn’t at all impressive, especially not now that she hadn’t even bothered to finish taking all of her possessions out of their cardboard boxes and into their new designated places. Victoria had figured she’d spend most of her time in the campus, so she had only rented a one bedroom with a living room and a small kitchen. Knowing her working habits, she might as well have rented a bedroom on its own, but Helper needed a bit more space to lounge around.

In the end, it was him who first caught Birgitta’s attention when they arrived. They had been talking about how it would be good to open their lecture giving the audience an update on recent studies and findings and then move on to a discussion, when Victoria opened the front door and they were put face to face with a scruffy orange cat, licking its own side.

“Oh, how adorable!” Birgitta squealed at the first sight of it, making him startle and look up at her. “Is it yours?”

Victoria closed the door behind them and blinked as her coworker crouched down to let her cat sniff her hand.

“Well, it is my house. Would be a little awkward if he wasn’t, really.”

“What’s his name?” The cat already was pressing his head against her hand, earning a gentle caress to his pale fur. Old age was beginning to come for the poor dear.

“Helper.” She stood by her side in the middle of her living room, watching as her cat, who barely ever let anyone other than her come close, purred in delight with Birgitta’s attention.

“Oh, and does he help you with anything?”

“He knocks my stuff over, so there’s that.”

Birgitta’s chuckle was melodic and gentle, which was fortunate. If her laughter was the loud type that sounded like something breaking, Victoria would probably still try to get it out of her, but she wouldn’t enjoy her success as much.

This sound, however? She could hear that for the rest of her life with no complaints. And little did she know at that time, but that was precisely what she would have to do.

…......

Fifteen years later

“You’re distracted today, professor.” The girl said, sipping at her coffee while looking at her with curious eyes. “More than usual, at least. Did anything happen?”

With a weary sigh, Victoria let her spine slide down the back of the bench they were sitting at, making her posture look more like a shrimp’s than that person’s. It was a cold winter morning; Christmas break was only a couple of weeks away, and Victoria was eagerly looking forward to it. Not for Christmas in itself, but to get an escape from the nightmare circus that was her life in that University. She hugged her knee length white coat, which looked almost like a cold weather version of the lab coat she was always in, tighter around herself as if that could protect her from that student’s penetrating stare.

“Don’t worry about me, kid. I’m fine.”

The lift of her brows was enough to tell Victoria that she didn’t believe her for a moment.

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me.” She said, toying with a ring on her finger with one hand and holding her paper cup with the other, fingers stiff due to the cold. “But you’ve seen me vulnerable and you’ve helped. I just want you to know you can trust me to do the same.”

It was hard to not trust her, given all the maturity and strength she’d shown since they met, but surely there were boundaries that had to be respected in a relationship between professor and alumni. It had been a weird day, that. She’d been in the library, looking for a book one of her students had asked her about, and heard some sniffing from a nearby shelf. Somehow, she’d ended up at the cafeteria, trying her best to console someone who was barely more than a teenager, and definitely not Victoria’s problem.

And yet, here they were. They had each other’s phone numbers and now frequently met for coffee around campus. After all, what was Victoria losing with that? Even after all those years at the university, she hadn’t made any true friends, and that student seemed like the sort of person who also didn’t have the easiest of rides connecting to people.

Especially not now that her reputation had been trashed, she supposed.

In the end, she decided that no matter how unprofessional it was, it would do no harm, so why keep avoiding it? She’d already found herself in a spot where she was in love with the same woman for over a decade and the only person she felt comfortable enough to open her heart to was a disgraced English and History student, so it wasn’t like things could possibly get worse at that point. Or at least, she preferred to believe they couldn’t.

“Ugh. You win.” She groaned, as if she hadn’t been dying to talk the subject over with someone. “The person I like is single again. She broke up with her boyfriend - they were only together for a couple of months, really - and before I came to meet you she found me and gave me the news. She was smiling. What the hell does it mean when someone tells you they’re single while smiling?”

Kaisa gave her a level look after checking that there was no coffee left in her cup. “Listen, I am far from being an expert. But my mother made me sit through enough romcoms that I think it’s safe to say she wants you to ask her out.”

“It’s not like that between us.” Victoria rolled her eyes. “It can’t be like that. We basically work together, imagine the mess if we got together and the even bigger mess if we fell apart!”

“Don’t you think that that’s a problem for… future Victoria?” Kaisa answered, hoping that it was the right thing to say. In all honesty, she could see the merit in that logic of Victoria’s. Not risking it was definitely safer, and you sure as hell wouldn’t catch her doing something silly like ‘confessing feelings’ anywhere in the near future. But the girl found that she was much better at helping people when she gave the advice she imagined Tildy would give, instead of her own.

“Well, yeah, but future Victoria would be pissed if I let her take the fall. Besides, I don’t even know if she likes women!”

“Show me a picture.”

Victoria blinked at her. “Pardon?”

“Yeah, show me a picture. I want to know what she looks like.”

Sure, why not, Victoria thought even as she picked up her cellphone in her pocket. It’s not like we’re both professors at the institution where she studies. How badly could this end?

After a brief moment of fumbling with her gloves before she managed to unlock her phone, she opened Birgitta's profile on Instagram, and handed it into Kaisa’s waiting hands.

“I hate this website.” Victoria grumbled, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “No idea how to use it.”

Without looking up, Kaisa answered. “And yet, you have an account.”

“Yes, well-” She failed to keep herself in check and began bouncing a leg. “It’s the one she’s the most active in currently.”

“Aw, that is cute.” Still scrolling through the profile, Kaisa had been too immersed in looking at the pictures to remember to put any intonation in her sentence, but Victoria appreciated the sentiment even if it was delivered in a monotone. “I’ll give it to you, I hate it as well. Can’t see the point in it.”

“Even for stalking crushes?” Victoria snorted.

“Oh, I don’t think I have to worry about there being any cottagecore lesbians in my future.”

“What the-” She stopped bouncing her leg as she turned to the girl, who was still scrolling. “What the fuck is a cottagecore?”

“It’s this.” Kaisa looked up and met her eyes for long enough to assure herself that the professor could see her pointing at the screen. “This is a cottagecore. She’s gay, by the way.”

Victoria opened her mouth. No sound came out, but a puff of smoke came from it. From the moment she’d met Kaisa, the girl had acted a lot more insecure than what the professor would consider healthy. And yet, here she was, sounding like a judge issuing a verdict.

“But she had a boyfriend.”

“I’m using ‘gay’ as an umbrella term” Kaisa rolled her eyes, like she was the professor talking to an uneducated interlocutor. “And she has a pixie cut. There’s just no other explanation.”

With her elbows resting against her knees and rubbing her temples, the scientist sighed. “Listen, I know that this may be the case for your generation, and if it is, all the power to you guys, but there are some truly nasty people my age with pixie cuts, you know?”

“Well, yeah, but she leads a conservation land trust, so she’s clearly not a Karen. Gay is the only other option.”

Victoria opted against asking who Karen was and why she was bad, and turned to look at Kaisa again. The girl was looking at her with one corner of her mouth lifted up. Either it was an attempt at a compassionate smile, or the girl was restraining herself from laughing at her. Victoria decided that both were equally probable as she was handed her cell phone again.

“Don’t stress about it. I’m sure everything will work out in its due time.”

“You sound like one of those generic gift cards.”

“Isn’t that how comforting people works?”

It was, Victoria supposed. But next time she’d probably rather Kaisa be direct with her and just tell her what she was thinking. There were enough cheesy gift cards in the world, Kaisa didn’t need to pose as one of them. Something told Van Gale that the girl probably felt the same.

“Anyway. Thank you for listening, even if this was stupid. See, this is why I love your generation. I don’t even have to worry about you being a bigot before coming out.”

The look Kaisa gave her made her wonder if she had inadvertently committed a hate crime, or if she had been wrong and Kaisa had been just waiting for the conversation to end to commit a hate crime herself.

“Holy shit.” The student whispered, bringing her hands to her mouth as her eyebrows drew closer. “Van Gale, I know the first thing we need to fix in your life.”

“And that is…?”

“Your abysmal fucking gaydar.”

………

One year later

Edmund felt lost in his life. After having graduated in Biology, there seemed to be so many possible roads ahead of him that there might as well be none. Did he have the patience to go into teaching? The focus to go into research? The drive to go into field work? If anyone knew, it certainly wasn’t him. So he did what anyone whose only certainty was not wanting to move back in with their parents did.

He decided to get another level of education.

I’m his defence, it wasn’t just because he was unsure of what to do next. He had an actual passion for Conservation Ecology, and since one of his favourite professors had noticed it and offered to advise him for his thesis and somehow get him a scholarship if he did a Masters, he really didn’t see a reason not to.

Besides, someone needed to stay in the house to look after his little cousin.

Professor Bloom was, in his opinion, a genius. And a very productive one, at that. You could shoot her whatever question you wanted to about local wildlife and she’d answer without a second’s wait, on top of putting her money where her mouth was and guiding several projects, all of which Edmund had read all about while deciding if getting this degree was a good idea.

His heart almost jumped to his throat when the door to her office opened and the woman herself found him standing in the corridor. He’d had contact with her while graduating, of course; if she hadn’t noticed his interest, he never would have bagged the offer she gave him. But it was one thing to be in projects she led in the university, and another entirely to have private tutorings on the subject she mastered.

He was coming to realise he was maybe a bit of a fanboy.

With a warm smile, professor Bloom opened the door wider and invited him in. There was a desk at the centre of the office, and behind it a glass window. By the desk, there were two chairs that had been angled somewhere between facing each other and facing the table.

“I just want to make it crystal clear I won’t be putting any pressure on you.” The woman began as she took a seat in one of them, leaving him no choice but to do the same. She eyed him with kindness and curiosity, making him feel a little like he was one of the critters she studied. Considering she was one of the best in her field, that probably meant something good for him. “Now, I imagine you have already given some thought about what your thesis will be, or have some options to explore. May we discuss them?”

He had, thank God, been able to bring some material for discussion, and he said as much as he opened his backpack to grab his laptop. It had been hard to settle down on one topic to concentrate his studies on during his Masters, so he had found it best to bring all of his ideas to his first tutoring, so that professor Bloom could tell him which would be the most useful ones. And which ones the university would be able to provide for, as well.

Just as he was opening his word document, however, there was a knock on the door, and the person on the other side didn’t bother waiting for a ‘come in’ to show herself.

“Birgitta, I got it!” Exclaimed a tall, slim woman as she opened the door. Professor Bloom, who had been patiently waiting for Edmund to present her his ideas, immediately turned her attention to the newcomer. “The project got approved- oh, sorry, I didn’t realise this wasn’t a good time.”

He managed to not allow himself to feel guilty for being in a professor’s office for an appointment at the time of the day he had specifically been invited to be there, but it wasn’t by a lot. The woman looked so crestfallen to notice him there that Edmund felt like he had done something wrong.

“Oh, that is wonderful!” Professor Bloom got up and walked closer to the woman holding out both hands to gently hold her arms. “Don’t worry, that’s just one of my students. I’m going to help him right now but maybe later we can meet up. I’d love to hear more.”

“Oh, there’s nothing much to say, really.” There was now an embarrassed blush tinting her cheeks, and she lowered her gaze to the ground. “I just received the news that they want me to carry on with the research and wanted to share it with you. It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal. It’s amazing. But I won’t push you about it. Send me a text if you want to share something else, okay?”

“Okay.”

Both of them looked like they had deflated considerably as the door was closed and the professor returned to her former seat next to him. Had that been his presence’s fault? It had seemed like it but at the same time, Edmund was reasonably sure that they had managed to downscale their conversation themselves.

“Sorry, mr. Pearson.” Professor Bloom said, eyes still glued to the door. “That was professor Van Gale. I imagine you’ll have some contact with her now that you’re in Conservation. Where were we?”

Even as they went back to the matter at hand, there was still a wistful haze in Birgitta’s eyes, one that Edmund recognized for what it was.

Oh no.

It was going to be a long couple of years.

.........

Two years later

If a body is at rest or moving at a constant speed in a straight line, it will remain at rest or keep moving in a straight line at constant speed unless it is acted upon by a force. Edmund knew so, because his need for money to sustain himself in college had driven him to work in a professor’s project that involved a lot more physics than he would ever have liked to work with. Technically, he was working in the environmental and zoological parts of Ahlberg’s project, but the admission exam had required him to study some of the cornerstones for the engineering that was also involved in it.

The point was, he now had all those laws and formulas lodged in some corner of his mind, even if they barely had a chance to get out.

This was one of those chances.

It was a climate change panel, because of course it was. Every year they had at least one of those in the university, with attendance being mandatory for some courses and open to all. The annoying thing was - besides the nerve-wrecking statistics and new climate studies, that is - that every time, the same two professors were called. Sometimes there were other guests called to the round table to bring more sides to the discussion, but no matter what, professor Bloom and professor Van Gale were always there. And from older students, he had come to learn that it had been like this for as long as anyone could remember.

And they were always wrecks.

A big part of Edmund thought that the fact that they had sustained feelings for each other for so long was truly adorable. Anyone who had the slightest contact with either would be able to see how much they cared for each other. But there was a time and a place for longing glances and blushing when caught looking at your crush, and a lecture hall filled with university students, with a power point presentation on the climate crisis behind yourself was not it.

When the discussion ended and they were all free to go, Edmund tried to look around for Gerda, who he had come into the lecture with, only to find her staring fixedly at the professors. They were struggling to walk past the door frame, since they seemed to be stuck in an endless loop of ‘after you’. Not bearing to witness that for too long, they both gave each other a look that clearly asked ‘are you also seeing this shit?’, even though they both had lessons with professor Bloom and had, in fact, seen this sort of shit more times than they could count.

When they began their Masters, they used to keep the last page of their notebook to count how many times she’d bring up professor Van Gale, or how many times they’d behold any suspiciously yearning action from her. It used to be fun.

It wasn’t funny anymore.

With a sigh, Edmund put his backpack on his shoulders again, and made way for the exit with his friend in tow.

They would keep at that for eternity, if they were allowed to. Someone would have to be the external force.

#verse: carpe diem #fic: feaar #omg i hadn't noticed the fic name spells out like that KJHSDKJHSDKFJH #this one is like the opposite of an angel greeting. BE afraid. Be very afraid. these lesbians don't know what theyre doing #and they are dangerous #raven scientist #raven scientist ship #my fic #victoria van gale #the raven leader hilda

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dicaeopolis · 9 months ago

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the episode went as follows: it is from a later season where Sheldon is engaged to a woman named Amy. she is clearly supposed to be seen as the frumpy geek girl who's matching Sheldon's nerd energy but in fact just looks like a normal woman who doesn't have TV face but I digress. the episode is about their bachelor/ette parties. for Amy's she's saying to the other girls "now I don't want anything CRAZY" so they throw her a quiet quilting bee with tea and sobriety and eventually she's like... AUGH! I WANTED TO GET DRAGGED TO THE CLUB!! and they say "but you love quilting and you hate clubs!" and she's like yeah but I wanted to TRY IT!! and they say OKAY and go to a club and she wakes up hungover looking like hell no memories and they say yeah you river danced on the bar and ground on firefighter themed strippers and she says Oh my god. (It is later revealed that in fact she took 2 shots and passed out at 9pm but she doesn't know this)

Sheldon's "bachelor party" is a roadtrip to visit a temporality scientist of some sort who he idolized. the boys come along because this scientist is kind of a crackpot who lives alone in a cabin in the mountains. Sheldon and the guy are getting along really well but he at one point mentions he has a wife but she lives in Munich and the extent of their relationship is most years they send each other a birthday card and an update on their research and when he leaves the room at one point Sheldon is kind of quietly like... I want to go home.

last scene is Sheldon and Amy lying in bed together and he says "would you still love me if it turns out I'm not the single-minded, science-obsessed recluse who puts his work above everything and everybody else that you fell in love with" and she says "would you still love me if I were a river dancing wild woman" and I have been thinking about this. ever since. Would you still love me if my love for you changed me. I am better because of you and that change makes me uncertain can I still be certain of you. If we change together will you still love me then. The cold open of this episode is one of the boys saying "if Bruce Banner rents a car would the Hulk be covered by his car insurance" and another boy says "you really need a girlfriend" and this is presented as funny

My gym keeps putting on The Big Bang Theory on the TVs for inscrutable reasons (can't imagine why anyone would want to watch The Big Bang Theory while they lift) (all the stairs machines are pointed at the same three TVs so I can't really get away but also they have it on multiple other TVs too) (I asked them to change it from SVU when I first started there because good god I don't want to watch a prolonged and painful csa story while I lift either and they put it on Nat Geo briefly and then changed it to The Big Bang Theory and if I ask them to change it they do but by the next time I'm there it's back on The Big Bang Theory) which means I did recently watch a full episode of The Big Bang Theory that was so shockingly good I'm still thinking about it

#.txt #legend of drizzt symptom where the diamond in the rough fascinates me far more than the kay jewelers #also because it was at the gym I didn't have to hear the laugh tracks which I think improved my experience exponentially #also I do still know the whole theme song.#0.1k #mistakes

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sciencestyled · 1 year ago

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Rainbow Ninjas and Disco Balls: Mastering Light and Optics in Art

Alright, my fellow nerds and art enthusiasts, buckle up because we’re about to take a high-speed joyride through the dazzling world of light and optics in art! Picture this: you’ve just chugged three espressos and washed them down with a twelve-pack of Red Bull. You’re vibrating with the kind of energy that could power a small city. Now, imagine channeling that jittery buzz into an art project that not only looks cool but also teaches you some mind-bending physics. Sounds like a wild ride, right? Let’s dive in!

So, light and optics—basically, the universe’s way of flexing its neon muscles. We’re talking about reflection, refraction, and diffraction. These aren’t just words you’d drop at a science fair to sound smart; they’re the secret sauce behind some of the trippiest art you’ll ever see. Think of them as the ninja moves of the physics world, and we’re about to go full Mortal Kombat on this topic.

First up, reflection. Imagine you’re Narcissus, but instead of a pond, you’ve got a disco ball. When light hits that shiny surface, it bounces off like a hyperactive squirrel on a trampoline. This is why you can see your face in the mirror every morning, questioning your life choices and wondering if you really need another cup of coffee. In the art world, mirrors aren’t just for checking your reflection; they’re for creating visual chaos. Artists like Yayoi Kusama take mirrors and go ham with them, creating infinity rooms that make you feel like you’ve stepped into a kaleidoscopic rabbit hole. Seriously, it’s like being trapped inside a lava lamp during a rave.

Next, let’s tackle refraction. This is when light decides to bend like it’s auditioning for Cirque du Soleil. You’ve seen this in action if you’ve ever stuck a straw in a glass of water and noticed it looks like it’s broken in half. Mind-blowing, right? Artists use lenses and prisms to pull off some wicked tricks with refraction. Imagine a painting that changes color and shape as you walk past it. It’s like your very own Hogwarts, minus the existential threat of dark wizards.

Now, diffraction. Picture light as a celebrity trying to sneak past the paparazzi, only to get scattered in all directions by a strategically placed fence. When light encounters an obstacle, it doesn’t just stop—it spreads out, creating patterns that look like they were designed by a digital-age Picasso. Holography, for example, is like diffraction’s greatest hits album. You’ve seen those holograms in sci-fi movies, right? The ones where Princess Leia pops out of R2-D2 and says, “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope”? That’s diffraction working its magic. In the real world, artists use holography to create images that hover in mid-air like spectral illusions. It’s like having your own personal ghost artist.

But wait, there’s more! Let’s combine all these optical shenanigans into one epic art project. Imagine a series of installations that use prisms, lenses, and holography to create an interactive light show. You walk into a room filled with mirrors, and suddenly you’re in a funhouse where reality is as bendy as a rubber band. You turn a corner, and BAM! You’re hit with a prism that splits light into a rainbow, making you feel like you’re on the set of a Skittles commercial. Keep walking, and you stumble upon a holographic display that makes you question whether you’ve accidentally wandered into the Matrix. It’s physics education with art on steroids.

And speaking of physics education with art, let’s not forget the main keyword here. This isn’t just about making pretty pictures; it’s about learning some hardcore science while you’re at it. Think of it as tricking your brain into studying by disguising it as fun. It’s like hiding vegetables in your kid’s mac and cheese—only instead of broccoli, it’s a crash course in optics.

Let’s sprinkle in some contemporary pop culture references, shall we? Imagine you’re Tony Stark, and your art project is the Arc Reactor. You’re using reflection to create that sleek, shiny look that screams “billionaire genius playboy philanthropist.” Refraction? That’s your Iron Man suit’s HUD, bending light to give you all the info you need to kick butt. Diffraction? That’s the holographic blueprints you pull up when you’re about to invent some next-level tech. You’re not just making art; you’re assembling the Avengers of optical phenomena.

Or picture this: you’re in a room full of art installations, each one a tribute to a different pop culture icon. There’s a giant mirror maze inspired by Black Mirror, where every reflection is a distorted version of yourself, challenging your perception of reality. Next, a prism room dedicated to Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon,” where light splits into rainbows that dance to the beat of the music. Finally, a holographic tribute to Star Wars, where you can interact with characters like Yoda and Darth Vader, learning about light’s behavior in the process. It’s like Comic-Con meets a science fair, and your brain is the ultimate fanboy.

In conclusion, exploring light and optics through art isn’t just a fun way to pass the time; it’s an educational thrill ride that combines the best of both worlds. It’s like taking a physics class taught by Willy Wonka, where every lesson is a golden ticket to a new adventure. So next time you see a rainbow or catch your reflection in a mirror, remember: you’re not just seeing light—you’re seeing the universe’s way of showing off. And with a little creativity, you can harness that show-off energy to create art that’s not only visually stunning but also scientifically enlightening. Now, go forth and conquer the world of light and optics, one mind-bending art project at a time!

#physics #art #light #optics #education #science education #science

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linerwriter · 6 years ago

Text

On the Subject of Magic

I spent way too long on this. Guess it’s my fate for being a science nerd.

Word Count: 1345. For the @linkeduniverse AU. Enjoy!

BOOM. “Ooh, pretty!”

Twilight sighed, shaking his head at the scene before him. In some random turn of events, the group had gotten onto the topic of magic after their wonderful dinner (courtesy of chef Wild). How they started talking about it, Twilight didn’t know. He only knew that he wanted nothing to do with it (for multiple reasons).

Currently, Legend was showing off his fire wand thingy, which caused a firework of reds, oranges, and yellows to rocket into the night sky. Wind, having never seen it before, had been mesmerized by the contraption, and was begging Legend to do it again.

“Come on, Legend! That last one was so cool!”

“No can do, kiddo,” Legend swung the rob over his shoulder, “Don’t want to cause a wildfire and burn the environment.”

Wind deflated. His lip bottom lip wobbled as tears crept to the corners of his eyes, “But-but it looks so pretty and cool!”

“Nice try, Wind, but I’m not falling for it.”

Wind huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “It was worth a shot.”

Time chuckled, rubbing the kid’s head affectionately, “That it was, Wind, that it was. Anyway, who’s next?”

Four looked pensive, “The only ones left to talk are Twilight,” the person in question glared when everyone looked his way, “and Wild.”

At that, the entire group looked mystified. “Hey, Wild,” Hyrule spoke up, “Why haven’t you talked about your magic?”

Wild hummed from where he was cleaning the dishes from dinner, “Simple. I don’t use a lot of magic.”

Warriors blinked, “What do you mean, don’t use a lot of magic? We teleport pretty much any time we can!”

Wild looked up, “That’s not magic.”

“Um, I’m pretty we know magic when see it,” Sky hesitantly spoke up, “and we see you use it all the time.”

Twilight, meanwhile, watched this entire exchange with a raised eyebrow. Although he didn’t like to speak about it pretty much at all, he was probably one of the most qualified to identify magic. And that weird stuff Wild did with that slate of his definitely constituted as magic. “Explain.”

Wild’s lips twisted in thought, “I guess… well, what do you think the definition of magic is?”

His question posed a multitude of response. Most, like Legend and Warriors, shrugged their shoulders. Others, like Four and Hyrule, looked puzzled. And finally, there was Wind, who was eagerly shaking his hand, as if waiting to be called on. Wild indulged him.

“Yes, Wind?”

“It’s when stuff you can’t really identify happens!”

Wild chuckled, “You have the idea of it, but not quite. It’s more like an event or something similar to it that you can’t explain.” That got everyone’s attention.

“Something you can’t explain?” Four questioned, “What do you mean by that?”

“You know how Legend’s fire rod shoots out fire?” Nods all around. “Well, you can see it happening, but you don’t know the exact reason for how or why it’s happening. My ‘magic’,” Wild put air quotes around the word, “isn’t really magic since we know how and why it’s acting the way it is.”

“So what is it, then?” was asked by Sky.

“It’s a science.”

“Science? How so?” Time looked intrigued.

Wild thought for a moment before brightening, getting his Sheikah slate out. Twilight shuttered involuntarily; no matter how harmless it was, he always got the shivers from it. “It’s kinda confusing, and I don’t really remember everything about it, so bear with me.” Everyone agreed. “So, a little science lesson for everyone not in the know: our entire world is made up of this thing called matter. Matter can be categorized into solids, liquids, gases and plasma, although that last one really only matters with stars.” Wild explained, “All matter is made up of these particles called atoms, which are the smallest components of elements. You don’t really need to know much about atoms and how they work, you just need to know that atoms are essentially the things holding matter together and that when they get hot, they start to move. Everyone with me?”

Whatever it was that Twilight was expecting, it certainly wasn’t this. His cub was actually quite smart compared to the others, and the things he was spouting made some amount of sense. What’s basically happening, Wild said, is energy is produced by the Sheikah slate that forms a barrier around the recipient. Due to the type of energy being formed around the person in question (Wild couldn’t really remember the name of it), the atoms in the body get heated up so quickly and with so much energy that they break apart from each other and head in the desired direction. This happens so fast, though, Wild reassured, that the physical body has no recollection of it ever happening, and makes it appear that the person is teleporting.

“That’s why the slate gets really hot after we teleport,” Wild finished, “It’s because of the amount of power being produced by the slate to get us to travel.

“And you know this how?!” Warriors asked, gobsmacked for the entire lecture.

Wild blushed, “I’ve always been kinda interested in this stuff, but no one’s really ever asked me about it.” He rubbed his upper arm shyly, “I’ve never really talked about it outside of my conversations with my friends, to be honest.”

Time clapped Wild on the shoulder, “If this hero job doesn’t work out for you, you could always be a professor.”

Wild blushed even deeper, so much so that Twilight was worried he might spontaneously combust. “Oh, it’s not that hard to understand…”

Wind, apparently, had another idea on how to proceed. “If your slate can do that, then what’s the difference from my type of teleportation magic?”

Wild turned his attention toward their youngest, “I was wondering when someone would ask that,” he smiled, going back into lecture mode effortlessly. It was scary how well he did that, Twilight noted. “It’s mainly due to the fact that my science has rules and parameters it has to follow.”

“And what are those?” Hyrule asked curiously.

“There are so many we can’t even count them,” Wild waved his hand flippantly, “The most important rule, however, is that there are certain places the slate can’t reach. For example, we can’t just teleport to any location in Hyrule, we can only travel to places with… I guess they’re called terminals? I don’t know, it’s usually other Sheikah tech, like shrines.”

“Why’s that?” For once, Twilight decided to speak up about one of the many questions swirling through his head.

“It’s due to the amount of excess energy being produced,” Wild answered with a grin, “The current of power being pumped from the slate doesn’t just stop right when we land in the other place; there’s too much of it to be able to. And since energy can’t be destroyed, merely changed, we can only travel to places that can transform and redirect the current.” Wild’s eyes turned mischievous, “Otherwise, we’d probably explode.”

“So,” Sky recapped for them, “because your… ‘magic’ can be explained, it’s considered a science.” He looked at Wild’s face for approval, “And because there are harsh restrictions placed on the science itself, it can’t be considered like Wind’s magic.”

“That’s the gist of it,” Wild nodded, “Like I said, I don’t know everything about it, so if you want to know more, I’d ask Purah or Robbie. They’re better at it than me.”

Time sighed lightheartedly, “You know enough to teach us, cub. Anyway,” his gaze turned harsh, “time for bed. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, so we best be getting a good night’s sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

As several (immature) people groaned, Twilight got up and walked over to his student. “Science, huh?” He looked at Wild thoughtfully, “I guess that can also explain why you revive yourself when you die?”

Wild held up a finger to his lips, “That’s a secret between you and me.”

Twilight chuckled, “I guess it is, cub. I guess it is.”

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #hero of the wild #hero of twilight #and everyone else #SCIENCE!#wild is a science nerd change my mind #I spent way too long trying to make this logical

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sometipsygnostalgic · 3 years ago

Note

Have you read the old She-Ra series Showbible it's wild stuff. A few things i've noticed were

Catra seems to be a more Evil for Evil is Fun sake kinda villain, she's got the scheming and power thing going but none of the nuance and angst.

Hordak seems like a way more active villain in the show, far more wanting to conquer for his own sake, and also leaning way more heavy on the "Mad Scientist" angle compared to what we eventually get in the show.

Entrapta is totally different character, she's more like a very cold and intimidating goth than a bubble mad scientist.

Just sorta interesting how things have evolved with the show over time.

Thanks for the link, I'm reading it now!

"What Adora doesn't know is that her adoptive mother, Shadow Weaver, has been manipulating her for her entire life with mind control spells to keep her from questioning the authority of the Horde."

Canon Shadow Weaver scoffs at this. "Mind control? Is that what they told you? No, my skills are far more subtle."

THIS PART is absolutely the core of the show that released, I'm so glad to see it here all along. And everything said here applies directly to the characters we see. Glimmer, Bow, Catra, Adora, Hordak, Entrapta, so on - they all choose to do good and bad, to show and hide their emotions, and Adora even believes LIGHT HOPE has the potential to choose the right thing.

LMAO dont worry adora im feral too weve all been there

The idea here that Adora needed to REDEEM herself to the good guys, it's funny how much Adora in the show still thinsk this, even though she wasn't their enemy for a single day! It's like canon Adora feels she has to make up for all the years she thought the Horde was right, and for everything the Horde has done, as if it is her own fault!!! She certainly feels that it is, with everything Catra tells her, before season 4, and AFTER season 4 she feels it's her own inadequacy letting the Horde win.

The entire section on GLIMMER is fucking incredible.

God, damn right!!! Glimmer cares SO MUCH about protecting the people she cares about and in proving herself to them that it inverts into these villainous traits like brashness and control issues.

"Bow loves the arts and prefers them to fighting" - LMAO who wrote this??? Bow's dads???? I reckon Bow being a scholar was based on this scrapped idea. ADORA BEING PROTECTIVE OVER BOW SUPREMACY!! But it's GLIMMER who is protective over Bow. In fact a lot of Adora and Glimmer's relationship translated to GlimBow.

Oh my god Micah was only PRESUMED dead as early as this draft??? I know there was a famous quote from Stevenson that Micah was only confirmed "alive" after someone else wrote in that reveal for The Portal. But it's so clear from this pitch that bringing Micah back was an option they were considering!!!!

WHAT THE FUCK FROSTA AND GLIMMER "GREW UP TOGETHER BUT ARE POINTEDLY NOT FRIENDS" WHAT IS THIS THEY WERE SISTERS sort of

Double Trouble working for the ALLIANCE and becoming friends with Scorpia is so funny. In the show, Scorpia did NOT like Double Trouble, but they did sort of become friends at the very end!!!

PERFUMA IS "MAYBE HIGH ON HER OWN PLANTS" FDVDGGHFGHFGFD WHATTTTT

Light Hope had the power to hack people's dreams??? This ended up getting reworked to generating their memories as holograms.

nothing has changed here

HELP HORDAK IS "AN ANXIOUS NERD" UNDERNEATH ALL OF HIS VILLAINY AND HE IS "OVERCOMPENSATING" WHAT A SICK BURN and once again completely canon

Scorpia is EXACTLY THE FUCKING SAME except her parents are alive here, god bless.

HELP??? ?ENTRAPTA WAS A "GOTH KID" WHO WAS HATED FOR BEING EDGY AND RAN AWAY TO LIVE IN THE WOODS???

A lot of Entrapta's concept is retained - she builds spooky robots and is still living basically alone, and she does have some resentment to the Rebellion for... abandoning her to the Horde, but also isn't motivated by revenge, only science (and friendship). Also she is still TECHNICALLY goth. I mean. I don't know if Entrapta's INTENTIONALLY goth, but she has the black mask and the dark outfit and the boots and the castle!!! Also her goth boyfriend.

The reason Entrapta's character changed so much between versions is in part because of Ray Geigar - Ray decided to give Entrapta a grease stain on her shirt, and they think that this is why she ended up getting characterised as a less-put-together feral mad scientist, rather than the moody and intelligent character she started off as. Ray also doubled down on Entrapta being older, like in this draft, rather than younger - many of her concepts have her looking as young as eight years old.

Also reading this it's really funny but of course Entrapta would fucking thrive in the Horde. But even funnier is that Catra considers Entrapta a friend in this concept, but Entrapta doesn't consider Catra HER friend. That is the opposite of the show, wherein Entrapta sees Catra as her friend but gets pushed away and backstabbed because Catra was too dedicated to her cause.

Horde Prime's powers being "just about everything" are pretty funny when you realise the guy's almost powerless without a host.

Reading the plot, it's incredible that Angella sacrificing herself to close the portal at the end of season 2 (renamed s3) was here from the outset.

LMAO. Season 4's concept has Bow and Sea Hawk working together to build a space ship, instead of Bow and Entrapta. ( s4 became s5.)

#she ra #spop #every character

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heroeslostintranslation · 3 years ago

Text

~ Da Boiyos! ~

Nicknames, personalities, and which game(s) they’re from. Everything is very subject to change. All but one of these Links are dads who have at least one kid in the 8-12 range. Also worth noting that I’m not a fan of any of the mangas (aside from the one in Hyrule Historia), so these are all based on my impressions of the different Links from their games. I may or may not decide to include other Links later; these are just the ones I’m currently most familiar with. Enjoy, let me know what you think, send me asks, etc.

~~~

Wild (BotW): Dork. Wide-eyed and adventurous. Wicked smart (understands all the Sheikah tech even though it’s not his thing), absolute nerd, obsessively documents everything (both For Science and because memory issues). Has ADHD. Insatiably curious. Is actually genius. Loves puns. Loves kids. Loves horses. Is just as susceptible to homesickness as he is to going stir crazy. Fiercely protective, especially of his family. Interpersonal conflict averse (will shut down rather than argue if someone is really upset). VERY blunt. The Fun / Embarrassing Dad to his & Zelda’s eight kids. Makes a point to spend time one-on-one with each of them. They go on family outings (“adventures”) a ton.

Sky (SS): Cream puff. Stronk af but zero staying power. Slepby. Tends to sleep at dawn and dusk, often up in the middle of the night. Always tired. Also a playful menace and prankster. Can be a bit catty, but only when he’s really upset. Self esteem issues. Very lovey-dovey with Zelda & their many kids, will give you diabetes. Loves Being A Dad. Very sweet and soft. But also a cold murderous rage machine against anyone / anything that harms or threatens his family. Possible BPD (or tendencies), definitely ADHD.

Minish (MC/4S): Bean. Blacksmith. Very childlike. Adventuring days are behind him and he is Very Content With That. Loving and playful with Zelda & their three kids, two girls and a boy. Thoughtful, pensive, but makes decisions quickly, processes options lightning fast (had to when divided). Loves teaching his kids about blacksmithing and the Minish, loves watching them learn anything, really. Very Supportive “Be Yourself” Dad.

Time (OoT/MM): Lost boy. Very quiet. Never really grows up. Tries. Just Wants To Be Good. Malon understands and helps a ton. Wants to be a good dad but doesn’t know how. Doesn’t know how to Hylian. Keeps busy with farm work because he feels like he has to be useful or he’s failed. Teenage years were hard. Lots of flashbacks. Major PTSD, but more insidious because he was so young. Dead hand, redead, and moon nightmares. High-functioning autistic?

Twilight (TP): Responsible, reliable (see: “Surface Pressure” from Encanto). Loves kids to death. Adores animals. Got over Midna quickly (it was intense though) and turned his heart to Ilia. Spirit longs to wander but duty keeps him home. Doesn’t tell his kids about his wolf form, Ilia may or may not know. Hard worker. Loves playing and working with his kids. Extremely hands-on dad. Tends to bury how he feels; just wants to focus on the present & what needs to be done. Extremely practical.

Sailor (WW/PH): Marshmallow. Not A Pirate & proud of that (though he gets along great with Tetra’s crew). Prefers to be on the “moral high ground” with things. Big Brother instincts to the max, not always a good thing, and not just with Aryll. Wants & strives to live up to his idea of what a Hero is: a paragon of goodness, virtue, and strength. Very emotive. Feels things very strongly, but is motivated rather than paralyzed by his emotions. A bit of a helicopter dad to his & Tetra’s daughter; a bit too protective & super doting. Wrapped around his daughter’s little finger, knows it, and doesn’t mind one bit.

Roolie (Z1/AoL): Button. Very Polite. Can’t say “no” to a request for help. Very Soft Dad, will discipline but rarely raises his voice. Strict about certain things. Wants to make sure his kids are Decent People despite being royalty (wants to prevent a repeat of Zelda’s brother). Takes them out with him to serve the community to teach them the idea of “serving the people”. Steve Irwin dress code policy (wears comfy adventuring gear to formal castle shindigs ‘cause why not?). Very humble. Still a bit shy around his wife, adores her though.

Captain (HW): Distrusts women, with few exceptions. Married to his Zelda but they keep it out of the public eye. Boy-next-door personality. Has Cia trauma (was her prisoner of war; HW showed the PG version of what happened in the Temple of Souls). Usually takes his son with him (might also have a daughter? maybe several?), tours the country often. Teaches his son chivalry and swordplay, can be fun but rarely has the time to just relax. Gives his kids all the attention he can spare, which is less than he’d like. Naturally charismatic but not so much a “charmer”, more honest and noble. Very Religious, nearly to the point of superstition (but not quite).

Age (HW: AoC): Naturally stoic with a daredevil streak. Doesn’t Know How To Dad. More apt to duck his head and do as he’s told rather than speak his mind. Doesn’t like rocking the boat. Harbors guilt and uncertainty about his title of Hero; wonders if he even deserves it when time-travel shenanigans had to happen to take down the Calamity. Bottles everything up. Zelda is the one spark of light in his life, and he clings to that tenaciously. Combat & tactical genius, but Does Not Do Puzzles. Doesn’t like ‘em, can’t do ‘em. Soft Inside but doesn’t know how to be soft.

Feral (HLT AU): Soft boi very hurt. Like a combination of Age & Wild. Extremely serious, doesn’t know how to “lighten up” or joke around, as much as he would like to. Can appreciate humor, camaraderie, and playful banter when he sees it, but he has no idea how to participate. Does Not Like Fighting. He can and he will, but only when he must. Much prefers ranged and stealth over melee, or whatever will end combat the quickest. Has frequent flashbacks. Extremely curious, but nearly silent about it. Trust issues so entrenched that there’s no longer any emotion attached to them; it’s just a fact of life to him. Very careful with his words, tends to (quietly) correct others when they misspeak. Secretly a bean who never wants to hurt anyone (except those who are absolutely evil, but even then he struggles).

#loz #tloz #loz au #tloz au #botw link #ss link #mc link #oot link #tp link #ww link #loz link #alttp link #hw link #aoc link #hlt #heroes lost in translation #heroeslostintranslation #worldbuilding

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im-actually-ok · 4 years ago

Text

Fangs

Chapter Six

First, Previous, Next

Masterlist

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ships: Platonic DLAMPR, platonic? Logince

Word Count: 1452

Genre: Some fluffy silly supportive bois

Warnings: Fangs, very slight body horror(the fangs), wild animal, wolf, swearing, food, eating (i think that’s it but if i missed anything please let me know so i can add it, thank you!!!)

Roman blinked, looking at the other, blinking again and rubbing his eyes almost comically, as if he didn’t believe what he was seeing.

“You have-” he motioned to his own mouth, not sure of the right words.

“Fangth? Yeth, I’m aware,” he sighed rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Does this have something to do with the um- the uh-” he then motioned to the hair.

“That’th the working theory, yeth,”

“And the lisp?”

“Mhm,”

“The meat??”

“Yeth,”

“The… uh….. The growling?...”

“I… believe so, yeth,”

“Do you know why??”

Logan sighed and shook his head, “currently, I do not,” he said, standing from his seated spot on the floor and walking over to his desk, motioning to the tools on his desk, “nothing I try workth, I can't get them to go away,”

Roman stood as well, walking over, “Have you tried just like, imagining them going away?” he asked and Logan gave him a deadpan look.

“/No/ Roman, I /definitely/ have /not/ tried that,”

“Well at least your sarcasm is getting better,”

“Thank you, Januth hath been helping me,”

“No problem, Microsoft nerd,” he said with a smile, “Ok, so, let's get a look at these chompers,” he said, taking Logan’s hand and and leading him over to the bed, sitting him down and standing in front of him, conjuring a small flashlight, “Alright, Pocket Protector, open wide,”

Logan rolled his eyes a little before opening his mouth, baring his teeth.

“Yikes, you've got quite the bite, huh? Have you been brushing properly since your last dental appointment?” Roman teased with a small smirk.

“Roman, /focuth/,”

“Yeah, yeah, alright, sorry,” he chuckled before shining the flashlight in, looking over the sharp fangs, “alright, from this I can see that you indeed… have fangs,”

“Roman you are absolutely no help at all.”

“What?? What do you expect? I’m not the smart one here!!”

“Well you are the expert on thap- thsa-” He couldn't manage to say ‘shapeshifting’ so he just said, “M-Managing to change your form,”

“Well I’ve never gotten stuck before,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I’ll- uh- I’ll think on this, ok? I’ll help you with this, alright?” he said, sitting down next to him and wrapping an arm around the smaller side’s shoulders.

Logan sighed and leaned into him, resting his head on the other’s shoulder, “You won’t tell the otherth, right?” he asked softly.

“You don’t want them to know?”

“...no…”

“Then no, I won’t tell them.”

“Thankth, Ro,” he said, a small, shy toothy smile on his face.

“Of course,” he said with a grin, “I’m just glad you decided to trust me, and I promise we’re gonna figure this out,”

“Great, because I am so tired of eating just meat,”

“Heh, I bet.”

----

Roman had spent the rest of the night trying to figure it out, well, that is, until he fell asleep at his desk, he had only made it thirty minutes before falling asleep. The next day he excused himself from the discussion early to spend more time thinking on the night before.

The following night he returned to Logan’s room, same as always with a plate of chicken nuggets in his hand and the papers from his ‘research’ (Mostly drawings of Logan with fangs) in his mouth as he knocked on the door. There was no response.

Roman raised an eyebrow and knocked again, but once more there was no response. He took the papers out of his mouth to call, “Loooooooooggggggaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnn open the doooooooooooooooooooor,” before adding, “please, I broughtcha dinner,”

At this point he was… concerned. “Uhhhhhhhhh Lo im gonna come in, ok? Don’t freak out it’s just me,” He called as he moved, tucking the papers under his arm and resting his hand on the handle, turning it and pushing the door open. He walked in, closing the door behind him.

Looking around, the room was uncharacteristically messy for Logan, as it had been for the last couple weeks, but nothing looked really out of the ordinary. Roman’s eyes finally landed on the lump on the bed, under the covers and he laughed, rolling his eyes, “Still in bed, I never would have pegged you as one to sleep in this late, calculator watch,” He said, setting the chicken nuggets on the desk along with his papers before he plopped down on the bed, shaking the lump under the covers, “wakey wakey, sunshine,” he smiled.

A low growl came from the other as it shifted and Roman rolled his eyes, “come on, none of that, you know it's too late to be sleeping,” he said as he pulled the sheets off the other. But when he saw what was underneath, he gasped, startling backwards and falling off the bed before hopping up again, “Shit- Logan!?”

A wolf rose from a sleeping position in Logan’s bed, looking quite grumpy as he looked over at Roman.

“Holy everlasting reign of glob, what happened to you?!” he said as he rushed back over and the wolf simply huffed, stretching before hopping off the bed and walking around.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh god Logan,” He put his hands over his mouth, “gosh Logan I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, gosh I should have come back sooner and now you’re a wolf oh gosh I’m so sorry,”

The wolf went over, scratching at the leg of the desk, whimpering softly.

“Oh, you- uh- you want something? Something on your desk? Some kind of super science thing that’ll turn you back or-” he paused and sighed, “You want the chicken nuggets, don’t you?”

So that’s how Roman ended up sitting in Logan’s bed, feeding a wolf chicken nuggets, having a crisis, for thirty minutes.

“Goooooooooooosh what am I gonna tell Thomas? That his logic is now a wolf? How am I gonna explain that?!” He groaned as he pet the wolf who was now lying in his lap.

“Wait,” he said, sitting up, startling the wolf, nerdy ‘wolf’erine, Roman had dubbed him. “I- hear me out, Logan, I have an idea, ok?”

‘Wolf’erine tilted his head as Roman cupped the wolf’s face, “Ok, I know it’s highly illogical but in all the fairy tales it works,” He said before moving and pressing a kiss to the wolf’s snout.

“Roman? What in the name of Tesla are you doing?”

Roman pulled away and smiled, “Wait, shit did it work???” Then he made a confused face when he saw the wolf still in front of him.

“Roman why are you kithing the wolf?” Logan asked, entering the room and closing the door behind him.

Roman felt his face heat up as he blushed a very very bright red color, “I-I- y-you’re not- but I thought- you- I-” he looked between the wolf and Logan, “I- I thought you were the wolf!!”

“I- what?”

“You’re practically turning into a wolf when I came in and there was a wolf in your bed I thought- I thought-...”

Logan stared at him a moment before he laughed, “You thought I had turned into a wolf, oh wow Roman that ith… oh goodneth,” he laughed.

Roman blushed even brighter, “I- its not- what was I supposed to think?! And why in the world is there a wolf in your room!?”

“I asked Remuth to get one from the imagination for me tho I could do more rethearch, I was thimply out because Remuth had been ranting about all the wayth wolves could kill and I did not want to be rude by leaving,” he explained

Roman nodded a little bit, “ooookkkkkkkkkkaaayyy, but why did you ask /Remus/? I could have gotten it for you,” he said, pouting a little bit.

“You have already done tho much for me, I did not want to bother you further, plus with Remuth I can athk for a wolf and get one no quethtions athked.”

“Oh…. Right…” he nodded a little bit, letting out a sigh, “Alright, uh, I fed your dinner to the wolf, I’ll get you something else,” he chuckled shyly, “Just… know you can ask me for anything, ok?”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind, thank you, Roman,” he smiled and nodded.

He nodded with a grin before going to the door, “Oh, and Roman?” Logan called and Roman looked back at him.

“If you thought the wolf was me… why, exactly, were you kissing it?” He asked with an eyebrow raised and a small smirk.

Roman’s face was once more painted red as he blushed again, “I- I was just- I- I mean it always works in fairy tales!!”

Logan was in a laughing once more as Roman rushed out with a thick blush on his face because gooooshhhhh that was embarrassing.

----

Heh, thought you all deserved some funny silly bois before the heavy stuff drops :3

Tag list:

@did-he-just-hiss-at-me @aegis-the-ace @occasional-fander @thefivecalls @wishthefish916 @osdd1b-partner-system-dynamics @somewhatvacant @a-soul-among-the-stars @superweebside

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ghostiewriter · 5 years ago

Text

prologue | tale of a slightly unstable teen hero

Summary: JJ’s life is thrown upside down after a school trip. Now he just decide what to do about his newly found powers and discover just how much his life has changed.

Warnings: contains strong language, a teeny sliver of sexual references, just the three boys being dumbasses? a small smidge of angst (it barely counts) and some fighting, kinda amateur but he’ll learn eventually

Word Count: 8.2K (I’m so sorry)

A/N: ahhh so here’s the prologue! Hope you guys enjoy, it’s a bit of a mess and it wasn’t meant to be this long but oh well! This is just to kinda set up the world, I promise the chapters won’t be this messy! There will be way more Kiara in the next chapter as well, don’t worry! Like I said, this is just a filler chapter! Also this is unedited and I am kinda unwell so lets hope this makes sense :) feel free to leave any feedback!!

masterlist // taglist // ao3

JJ prided himself in always loving an adventure. A random trip at 3am when one of his buds felt down? Hell yeah! An exploration through the streets of New York when he decided to ditch his Spanish final? Let’s go, dude! A spontaneous road trip with his boys during summer? JJ was down! But this? This just felt like some sick joke.

Admittedly, JJ wasn’t listening in class when the trip was announced. And as Pope liked to remind him every couple of minutes, this whole situation could have been avoided if he had listened in class. But can you blame the guy? A whole day off school to visit some big corporation uptown where he was getting a free lunch—JJ would be stupid to reject that. Yet, JJ should’ve known there would’ve been some catch, some flaw in this trip. And that flaw was that he had to spend the day walking around Cameron Industries, the biggest nerd fest on the East coast.

JJ was bored out of his mind.

Pope was ecstatic beyond belief.

John B was ready to punch JJ in the face if opened his mouth to complain one more time.

“Why call it a trip when all we do is listen to these dudes in lab coats droning on about some weird gene thing? Like c’mon! A trip is meant for relaxing. Where the fuck am I gonna relax around here, huh? The fucking gift shop—“

“Shut up,” John B hissed at the blonde, smacking JJ’s arm for good measure, to which the blond dramatically whined at. “Just please…shut up. You’ve got one more hour until lunch, alright? Don’t ruin this for him.”

JJ huffed as he glanced over at Pope, who was eagerly questioning every scientist they came across. As much as it pained him to agree with John B, he did have a point. There weren’t enough fingers in the world to count the amount of times JJ had dragged Pope into some anxiety-provoking, impulsive situation. The least he could do is suck it up a little and mope silently as they walk through countless fancy labs that probably each cost more than his apartment complex altogether.

“I don’t know why you’re acting so chuff,” JJ huffed, his fingers twisting the rings that adorned his hands—a force of habit when he was uncomfortable and bored. “You usually back me up on this kinda stuff—“ But JJ didn’t need to finish his question. Oh no, because the answer was right there.

JJ smirked as he turned to John B, one eyebrow raised in question. However, his friend seemed much more content staring at Sarah Cameron from where she stood near the front of the group, smiling towards the tour guide like they were close friends. Which they probably were considering they were standing in the building her father owned.

Ward Cameron. Renowned scientist, billionaire and founder of Cameron Industries. A true inspiration. What started as a hopeless experiment in his high school chemistry lab ended up forging Ward Cameron’s path to success in the biggest multibillion-dollar multinational corporation that held the future for chemical engineering. JJ just thought he was some lucky rich kid that had daddy’s money to support his dream.

And it was for that reason that JJ rolled his eyes, nudging his friend out of his daze. “You do know you don’t stand a chance, right?” JJ commented.

Harsh but true. JJ and the rest of the kids that attended this trip went to Midtown High School. True to its name, it was smack bang in the middle of two very different livelihoods. Uptown Queens: home to the kids who live of old money, designer clothes and trust funds. And Downtown Queens: home to working-middle class who would spend the rest of their lives making a sliver of the uptown folks’ wages.

Take a wild guess which area JJ is from.

However, some old dude in the 60s decided to try and bridge the gap between the classes and thus, the school was born. All it did was let each know how much they resented the other. Yet, John B had fallen into the alluded mind-set of that old geezer and set his eyes on Sarah Cameron, the most uptown chick you’ll get. And of course, JJ was there to remind him of that very fact and push him off that imaginary bridge. It was a fool’s hope to combine the uptown and downtown folk; it was a fool’s hope to try and make them get along. It won’t happen now nor ever.

John B flipped him off. JJ only grinned in response.

Nonetheless, that ended up being the most exciting part of the hour. JJ shuffled along at the back of the group, his eyes constantly wandering around the labs. Did he have any clue what any of it was? Hell no, but he was naturally curious and couldn’t help his hands from wandering. Sue him, he was a teenage boy with ADHD and a knack for getting into trouble—he was bound to do something stupid.

His interest in science perked up a bit when he noticed a small enclosure of what looked like completely normal spiders, yet as their tour guide spoke, they were anything but normal.

“Our team have been working on taking the genetic code of three separate species of arachnids and combining them to form a super-spider. One which can survive and reproduce and live as any other would. It is the first step in the future of genetic engineering and modification. With this technology, we could find cures to diseases that were deemed impossible to cure. We could form a stronger, better human race—“

“Isn’t that unethical?” A voice interrupted. Everyone’s head snapped towards the curly-haired girl that stood by Sarah Cameron’s side. JJ knew very little about her—considering this was honestly the first time he had seen her—and he wasn’t complaining…nor was he actually listening to what she was saying. “I mean, won’t this just introduce a future of designer babies and a superiority of the genetically modified over the natural?”

“I understand your concerns,” The tour guide—a young redhead who honestly didn’t look a day over twenty-two but then again, JJ guessed everyone around here was some sort of genius. “But I can assure you there are a number of protocols behind this research that would prevent such a thing from happening.”

“Can you really stop the rich from getting what they want?” Ironic considering she was a rich, uptown chick.

An awkward silence washed over the group before the teacher quickly cleared their throat and directed the tour guide to continue.

JJ—being the foolishly bored teenager he was—made his way over to the unknown girl, standing next to her as they looked at the spiders in the enclosure.

“Poor things.” She sighed sadly. JJ only raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it.

“You know,” He began, his voice smooth and suave—the usual JJ charm he used on girls. “I totally agree with you on all those…ethic…things…” He trailed off, risking a glance towards the girl who only narrowed her eyes at him.

“Really?” She questioned, nodding her head for him to continue.

“Yeah, I mean, save the animals, am I right?” He grinned, nervously scratching the nape of his neck. The girl seemed unamused.

“Uh huh, sure thing, buddy.” She stated before turning to catch up with the group. But JJ’s voice stopped her once again.

“How about I take you out some time? And then you can tell me all about all this ethic stuff.” He proposed, his usual charming smirk on his lips. He was a lady’s man, he knew he was gorgeous and JJ would be a fool if he didn’t use it to his advantage. One small date to charm her before JJ wiggled his way into her bed, then boom—they never have to speak to each other again. Plus, this girl may be one of Sarah Cameron’s wee minions, but JJ didn’t let class get in the way of his ‘love’ life. He just resents the lot of those uptown kids in every other aspect of his life. No harm in fraternizing with the enemy, right? What other people didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. It’s just a little bit of fun.

“Do you even know my name?” She asked him, her arms crossed over her chest. It took a lot of self-control for JJ not to follow the movement. He cleared his throat, leaning one hand against the enclosure.

“Uh…Samantha?”

“Nice try, asshole.” And with that, she turned around to join the group.

JJ stood there, a little dumbfounded by the encounter. He was taken aback not only by the fact she had just rejected him, but with the sass in which she did so. He would be lying if he didn’t say it was a little hot, but he expected it. Uptown kids always thought there were better, superior to the downtown kids.

But JJ didn’t wallow in his rejection for long when he felt a sharp, stinging pain on his hand. He glanced down, seeing a spider on the back of his hand and his instant reaction was to shake it off. “Little shit!” He hissed, looking down at the small bite mark on his skin.

“Hey, dude, you comin’?” He heard John B call out. He glanced around, unable to spot the spider. He shrugged, JJ has had worse than a small spider bite. He’ll survive.

“Yeah, I’m starving, let’s go!”

Little did JJ know that was his last day as a normal, hyperactive teen.

**********

“I’m telling you something is fucking wrong with me!”

Both boys looked at their blond friend with sceptic looks. It was Saturday morning and far too early to deal with JJ nonsense. Especially when they could barely understand what he was going on about. It was around 6am when John B and Pope received a very distressed call from JJ. Neither one was very sure for what reason, all they heard was ‘freaky’ and ‘fuck’ multiple times during the call. But he sounded like he was really going through something so they eventually went over—arriving at JJ’s place at 7:30am. JJ was too on edge to even try and call them out on it.

“Dude, breathe,” Pope muttered, watching JJ run holes in his carpet from how much he was pacing. “Calm down a little—“

“I can’t calm down, Pope!” JJ snapped, looking at his friends who seemed far too calm. “Like I don’t know if I am freaked out or pumped but just—“ He paused, seeing the look of confusion on his friends’ faces. He huffed and pulled his shirt off, looking at them expectedly. They didn’t react.

“JJ, did you really call us down here on SATURDAY MORNING because you have another birthmark that looks like George Clooney because I will literally murder you—“

“No, no!” JJ hissed before pointing down to his abs, and then his arms. Then he began flexing, yet he was met with blank expressions again.

“Dude, as much as I love staring at your abs, what the fuck are we meant to be looking at?” Pope asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“They are different!”

“They are?”

“They are!”

“Uh…how?”

JJ scoffed, as if it were obvious. “They are more defined!”

“…more defined?”

“Clearly!”

John B let out an unattractive snort, pushing his hair back as he leaned back against the wall, all his worry for his friend now gone. He was honestly concerned it was something important. “What’s next? Is your hair too perfect, J? Need a bag to cover how gorgeous you are?” Pope snickered along with him.

“I mean, I am having a good hair day…” JJ trailed off before shaking his head and turning to the two of them again. “But that isn’t all, okay? It gets freakier!”

Both boys looked at JJ with amusement from their spots on his bed.

JJ rolled his eyes before he stretched his hand out, his palm facing the ceiling with his two middle fingers pressed into his palm. Not even seconds later, a THWAP echoed through the now-silent bedroom.

Both teenagers looked down at the string of substance that just existed their friend’s wrist, completely shell-shocked. It was John B who spoke first, looking away from the white substance on JJ’s bed.

“Is that like…the same as…did you just—“ John B points down to his groin area, only for JJ to grimace.

“Dude, no! EW! I didn’t just jizz from my wrist!”

“It looks like you just did.”

Pope quickly kneeled down next to the bed, hesitantly reaching to touch the stuff, ignoring John B’s comments on how disgusting it was. “It feels like…silk,” He murmured in confusion before pulling his hand away, noticing how it stuck to his skin. “And it’s sticky.”

John B gagged in the back, but JJ ignored him. “It’s like glue, a really strong glue! And then after like twenty minutes, it disappears!” He told Pope as he reached for the scissors to help his sticky situation.

“How did you do that though?” Pope’s mind was reeling with the possibilities, the science behind the completely inhumane thing JJ had just done and he had witnessed with his very own eyes.

“I don’t fucking know!”

“Does it have anything to do with that weird-ass bump on your hand?” John B perked up, nodding towards JJ. All three boys’ gazes shifted to his left hand, where in fact there was a small red bump, no bigger than a grape at most.

“Nah, dude, that’s just from the spider bite yesterday.” JJ answered with a shrug. Pope chocked on the air, looking at JJ like he had three heads.

“I—you mean the fucking GENETICALLY MODIFIED SPIDERS FROM THE LAB?!” JJ winced, trying to shush Pope but there was no avail, this boy was going off on a rant. “Are you stupid? Why didn’t you tell anyone yesterday? JJ, those could’ve been poisonous or had long term effects or—“

“Made you some weird mutant with cool powers.” John B added. He quickly shut up when he received the ‘look’ from Pope.

“We have to tell someone at Cameron Industries.” Pope concluded. JJ was quick to pipe up, taking a few steps away from Pope on instinct.

“What, no way! They are gonna stick me under some fancy microscope or inject me with needles full of…stuff! I’m not going back into that geek galore!” JJ stated. Pope looked like he was ready to open his mouth, and start spouting out arguments as to why JJ should head over to the professional scientists over his weird, overnight mutation. But it was actually John B who came to a more mutual conclusion.

“Or we just do our own tests,” John B shrugged, both boys turning to look at him with fairly discombobulated expressions. “C’mon, Pope is basically a scientist and he is smart enough to figure out whatever the hell is going on with you!”

“I don’t have half the equipment they would have—“ Pope tried to argue.

“Look, we aren’t going to find out anything through a microscope. The best way is just go out there and test what he can do. How hard can it be?” John B grinned.

Pope wanted to argue that it was very hard. Though he had read countless papers on the genetically modified spiders, even he didn’t know enough to do a full conclusive examination on JJ and his new state. He didn’t have half the things he needed, but when he looked over at JJ and saw a much more relaxed—and hopeful—expression on his face from when he had suggested returning to the lab, Pope sighed and shook his head a little.

“Just so you both know, I am going to say, ‘I told you so’ when this goes downhill.”

**********

That is how JJ, Pope and John B found themselves standing on the roof of JJ’s apartment complex, the busy streets of New York oblivious to the scientific discovery that is happening above them. JJ couldn’t tear his eyes off the skyline, finding something about it much more relaxing that the potential of just what his new body could do. He was scared—no, scratch that—he was nervous, anxious if you will. JJ couldn’t lie that a part of him was excited. It felt surreal, like something out of one of those comics he used to nick from the uptown kids. Then again, JJ wasn’t very fond of the idea of being some new scientific discovery. It made him feel like he would end up like one of those poor frogs they had to dissect in biology—poor fuckers.

“Okay, so the spiders were made from three separate species to optimize their physical properties—being able to adapt to new environments, heightened senses to avoid predators, enhanced strength and speed, stronger material to create webs for larger prey—all that jazz. No research has been done on the psychological properties though.” Pope rambled, his hands moving wildly whilst both boys stared at him with clueless expressions.

“Which means?”

“JJ could have some really cool powers but could also be going totally insane,” Pope said with a sheepish shrug. “Like I’m talking full Tasmanian devil mode here—“

“Very reassuring, dude.” JJ stated bluntly. He took it all back, he wasn’t excited. He was terrified now. He glanced down at the small bite on his hand, which was slowly deflating as time passed. JJ wasn’t sure if he was relieved or worried that the second the bite disappeared, it could mean something really bad—like him turning into some massive humanoid arachnid that attacks the city. He shivered at the thought. “Right, let’s just get on with this.”

John B clapped a hand on his back, a small smile on his lips. “You’ll be fine, dude, alright? You’re in good hands.” He tried to reassure JJ. And JJ knew that everything Pope was saying was just to help him understand what was going on too, but he couldn’t help but think there was a small part of Pope that enjoyed using JJ as a lab rat. He was a scientist, could you really blame him?

“Yeah, I know.” He said with a curt nod.

“Let’s try the web again, see how far you can shoot it.” Pope piped up, moving to stand on the other side of JJ. “The average spider can shoot a web to about four feet, but these spiders have the DNA of the Darwin Bark Spiders which can shoot webs up to eighty-two feet. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you could reach the same, maybe more.” He then gestured for JJ to try it out, pointing towards the building opposite then, which was only around eight feet away, at most.

JJ took a deep breath before extending his hand out, the THWAP sounding clear despite the ongoing traffic down below. Yet, the web barely shot out a couple of inches before landing on the edge of the roof with a disappointing splat.

“Well then…” John B trailed off, all three boys staring at the failed web shot.

“You clearly weren’t trying, just concentrate!” Pope said with a clap of his hands. He only received a blank stare from JJ.

“I was trying, dumbass! It’s harder than it looks. It…feels weird, man. Like a sneeze…from my wrist!” He huffed, but Pope only nudged his shoulder to try again.

JJ sighed and turned to face the opposite building again. He raised his arm, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tried to imagine the web shooting out and reaching the opposing roof. He tried to imagine more web fluid being shot out his wrist, he tried to imagine like he actually knew what he was doing. Not even a second later, the THWAP sound was heard and suddenly there was a white rope of silk extending from JJ’s hand onto the next roof over.

“Holy shit!”

JJ grabbed the web, giving the web a light tug. He was expecting for the web to break, for his hand to be covered in web fluid. But instead the web remained, strong and sturdy as though it was bolted onto the roof.

“This is crazy, dude.”

He snapped his hand back, watching the web breakaway from his palm and flop, hanging from the brick wall like a pathetic piece of string. “That was cool as fuck,” He murmured as he glanced down at his wrists in shock. He gently ran his thumb over his wrist, a delightful shiver running down his back. It caused him to smile a little, thinking about just how far he could shoot these webs.

“Dude, you could swing around like Tarzan now.” John B snickered. JJ gave him a deadpan look but he couldn’t help himself from glancing down at his wrists again.

“You think?”

“Only one way to find out.” John B grinned.

Pope’s eyes widened slightly as he quickly began to shake his head. “You don’t know if the web is strong enough to hold his weight, he could hurt himself or—“

“You calling me fat?” JJ gasped with a pout, a hand placed over his heart. “You offend me, Pope. Thought you were better than this.”

“If calling you fat will stop you from swinging off a building like an idiot then yes, I am calling you fat.” He hissed.

JJ grinned, his eyes quickly searching around before he noticed a large satellite pole sticking out from one of the nearby buildings. It was a bit further away, but JJ let the pride of his last success get to his head. “I can do it, bud, don’t worry about it.”

“That’s my boy!”

“Don’t encourage him!”

“He can do it!”

“How the fuck do you know that!?”

“Sixth sense, my dude.”

JJ blocked out the bickering, taking a couple of steps back from the edge of the roof. A running start never hurt anyone, right? He rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck from left to right. Never once did he let his gaze shift away from the satellite pole. He crouched down a little, already feeling the adrenaline build up in him. “Diver down, boys.” He grinned before he began sprinting to the edge of the building. As he reached the edge, he pushed himself off and extended his arm out, imagining the web wrapping around the pole and seconds later it did. He held the web tightly in his grip as he felt himself swinging towards the building. Whoops and cheers could be heard, though JJ wasn’t sure if they were coming from him or the boys back on the roof.

“JJ, THE WALL! LOOK OUT!”

But JJ was a little too pumped up to even comprehend what Pope was screaming until he noticed the brick wall getting closer. ‘Shit, shit, shit.’ The words echoed in his head and he tried to think of a way to slow himself down. But it was useless as he found himself colliding with the wall, his eyes clenched shut on impact.

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned, his limbs sprawled out like a starfish. A part of him thought he was dead, that maybe he hit the wall way too hard, he had a lot of momentum after all. But the muffled screams coming from his friends was enough to tell him that he was very much alive. “I’m alive!” He yelled out, slowly beginning to blink his eyes open, finding himself face to face with a brick wall. “What the…” He trailed off when he glanced at his hands, finding them attached to the brick wall.

His heart was pounding when he looked down, seeing that he was attached to the wall, very far up from the ground, with nothing suspending him. His mind was reeling, almost as though he was waiting for himself to fall and his body to meet the ground. But it never happened.

“You’re like an actual fucking spider, dude!” He heard John B yell, as though he was right beside him, which caused him to wince a little. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing them still very far away on that roof.

JJ shook his head and glanced up, seeing the edge of the roof a couple of feet from where he was stuck on the wall. He took a deep breath before slowly removing one hand, and when he was sure he wasn’t going to fall, he moved it up higher. Slowly, JJ found himself scaling the side of the building, his heart beating wildly even as he pulled himself over the edge, both feet finding the solid ground of the roof. He turned back to look at his friends, both of whom looked shocked beyond belief.

“What the hell…” He could hear Pope whisper, which only caused JJ’s eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

“This is a lot more complicated than I thought.” He muttered to himself, only now realising that the bite mark on his hand was long gone.

**********

JJ winced a little as he heard the bell ring, indicating the end of this period and the start of lunch—his favourite subject. Yet, JJ wasn’t exactly jumping out of his seat as usual. It was now Monday and everyone was back at school. JJ, Pope and John B had spent the better use of the whole weekend to run around, using JJ like some lab rat and seeing just what he could and couldn’t do. And JJ was fucking exhausted. The amount of times he had face-planted into a wall was beyond funny and he had learnt the hard way that the more on edge he was, the more sensitive he was…well, to everything. The sound of the chairs screeching against the floor made him cringe, the bright LED lights made him want to cry and the feeling of his sweater against his skin was scratchy and uncomfortable. JJ sure as hell wasn’t hyped for his newly found powers if this is what the rest of his life is going to be like.

The blond sighed to himself as he shoved his stuff into his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder and heading towards the cafeteria once he left the class. He kept his head down, finding the small shuffles of his vans against the floor were helping him from cussing out every single student that bumped into him, making him honestly want to scream and stay six feet away from everyone. He tried to reassure himself that he was half way through the day, that he only had a couple of hours left and then he could preferably go hide in a hole somewhere for the rest of his life. Okay, that is a little dramatic but a dark hole sounded great to JJ right now.

But here’s the thing, JJ is a Maybank. He has the good ol’ Maybank luck, which means even when he feels shit, the universe is out to make his life worse. And the universe sent that in the form of Rafe Cameron and his loyal little minions, Topper Thornton and Kelce Smith. Midtown High’s own version of the Plastics, some may say.

By some, I mean JJ. But hey, don’t judge. He was forced into watch Mean Girls by one of his flings awhile back and he won’t lie, the movie slaps. But that is besides the point.

“Oi, Maybank!”

JJ inwardly groaned at the sound of Rafe’s voice. He would much rather hear nails on a chalkboard than whatever Rafe had to say. JJ wouldn’t consider them bullies, they were simply the top tier of the uptown kids who had some sort of superiority complex. And JJ had no issue on challenging them, it was far too easy to wind up a bunch of rich kids who weren’t used to being called out on their bullshit. And it just stuck. They would say something stupid to try and provoke him, and most of the time JJ’s words were enough for them to leave him alone. He had the satisfaction of punching Rafe in the face a few times, but usually Pope and John B were quick to hold him back. After all, it would backfire on JJ if he got into trouble with an uptown kid.

“What do you want?” JJ huffed out, glancing up at the trio. The sight of the three of them almost brought a smile to his lips. Uptown kids and their need to follow trends, they wore the same outfit in different variations and it honestly made JJ want to laugh. The classic preppy look with their pastel sweaters and tennis shoes, it made JJ want to gag. But he contained his vomit as Rafe spoke up.

“Aw, c’mon, Maybank. That all you got today? A bit pathetic.” Rafe snickered, the other two laughing along with their leader. JJ rolled his eyes. The funniest thing about them was their outfits.

“As much as I’d love to talk to you little pastel powerpuff girls, I have much better things to do in my life,” JJ said with a sarcastic smile on his lips as he side-stepped the trio, attempting to make his way past them. He really didn’t have the patience to deal with them today. He had happily planned to steal food from Pope and take a nap for the hour. But the second he felt Rafe’s hand on his shoulder, he knew that wasn’t going to be happening.

“Watch your mouth, Maybank.” Rafe spat, his hand tightening on JJ’s shoulder. The act made him want to cringe away and rip off his skin. The feeling of his hand on his shoulder, his thumb brushing that little bit of skin near the neckline of his sweater, it made JJ want to gag. It felt horrible. He wanted that feeling gone.

“Piss off, Cameron.” He scoffed, harshly jerking his shoulder so Rafe’s hand would lose its grip but it only tightened. In an act of desperation, JJ did the only thing that seemed reasonable. He shoved Rafe away. Now normally, it would be enough to have Rafe stumble a few steps so JJ can make a quick exit. But JJ just so happened to have forgotten that this wasn’t like every other normal time. He wasn’t normal anymore. So, his shove was much more than a wee push, it was more like completely winding Rafe. JJ couldn’t help but cringe when he heard the sound of Rafe’s body colliding with the lockers before he slumped to the ground, a dent now evident in the lockers from the collision. Topper and Kelce looked at JJ with mixed looks of confusion and fear before rushing to their friend’s aid.

“Oh my god, Rafe!”

JJ’s head snapped to the end of the hallway where he could see Sarah Cameron, but she wasn’t alone. Beside her was the curly haired girl from the trip. His eyes widened a little when his gaze met hers, but he was only met with a glare from the mysterious beauty.

“What’s your problem?” She hissed at JJ as the two girls got closer, now seeing the full effect of what JJ had done. JJ gulped a little, his fingers tapping the side of his legs as he tried to think this through. What could he say, ‘oh sorry, kinda lost control of my new powers, I’ll be a little more careful next time’. Yeah, that wasn’t going to work.

“He started it!” JJ blurted out, only to mentally smack himself at how childish he sounded. “I barely touched him, he was being dramatic!” He added but the looks of uncertainty didn’t reassure him that they bought it. He was in the lion’s den here, a downtown kid surrounded by the privileged. He was never going to win. So, he did the only sane thing any downtown kid would do. He got out of there as quick as he could.

“He could be concussed!” Sarah Cameron spoke up for the first time, a frown on her face as she met JJ’s gaze. He could almost feel the judgement oozing from her.

“Maybe he will finally have some brain cells knocked into him!” And with that, JJ ran out of that hallway and didn’t stop running until he was far away from the school.

**********

“I’m sorry what?”

Following the fiasco on Monday, JJ’s week hadn’t been much better. Most of it was spent avoiding the uptown crew whilst simultaneously keeping a low profile, which is very hard for someone like JJ. He was used to being the class clown, milking any attention he got. Now he felt like he was under house arrest or something, trapped to keep to himself and work out what the hell was happening to him. But true to their commitment of being his best friends, John B and Pope were right there beside him. It had been a long and stressful week but they made it through. It was a little exhausting on them but they had each other to lean on. JJ was just glad he wasn’t alone.

But now, sat in Pope’s bedroom on the Saturday night, looking between the two boys with a very concerned look, JJ wasn’t sure his weekend was going to be any more relaxing. He knew the three of them combined weren’t the best combinations. They probably shared a brain cell between them and even then, it mostly resided with Pope and his weird, random facts. They had come up with some really strange, out-there ideas before—like the time they tried to give John B a perm with household products or when they convinced themselves they could do a road trip in John B’s crappy van. But this was the icing on the cake. This was enough for JJ to confirm that his friends had completely lost their mind.

“Think about it!” John B continued, practically rolling on the balls of his feet in excitement. JJ raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt him. To be honest, JJ wasn’t even sure where to start with how bad of an idea this was. “You have these super cool powers that are totally useless to everyday life, so why not put them to use? You could be like—the next Batman or something!”

“Batman was a rich dude who made gadgets. He doesn’t even have any powers. How the hell would I be like Batman?”

“Okay, bad example,” Pope piped up. “But just think about it. You could make a difference, be a hero!”

“A really badass superhero!” John B added.

JJ looked at them with a frown on his face. This now just seemed like a deranged joke. He was waiting for them to laugh, to say it was just a silly joke and move on with their usual weekend plans. But they didn’t. They continued.

“I mean, we could be a team! The three of us! You’ll go out and do all the crime fighting, Pope can make crazy gadgets and do all the…tech stuff and I can be your guy in the chair, you know?”

“My guy in the chair?”

“Yeah, you know, the guy in the headset…surrounded by screens…telling you where to go when you need extra help and stuff.”

“What?”

“Like Pope would set it up, but I would be the mastermind behind it! Like you’re stuck in a building and can’t find a way out, I would help you find a route. Your guy in the chair!”

JJ only shook his head, pressing his fingers to his temples to try and not completely lose his temper.

“And like every superhero ever, you’ll need a suit. So, I went looking through some stuff and I found my mum’s sewing machine,” Pope fumbled around in his pocket before he pulled out a small bunch of red fabric. He threw it to JJ, which he easily caught. JJ then realised it was like a ski mask, with two small holes for his eyes. “It’s not much but we can work on it, keep your identity secret and everything.”

“Oh, and you’ll need a badass name! I was thinking like Night Monkey, or—“

“—Spiderling!” Pope interrupted with a grin, clearly proud of it. But JJ had enough.

“Can the both of you just shut up!” He snapped, both boys instantly quieting down, looking at JJ with concerned looks. “Okay, are you out of your mind? Me? A superhero? Hate to fucking break it to you but I am not the superhero type guy, alright? I’m not your friendly neighbourhood nice guy helping old ladies cross the street or getting cats out of the tree! I could give zero fucks about the law cause all its there for is rich idiots to manipulate and use to ruin lives of people like us!” JJ cried out to them, letting go of any hope he had on trying to keep his cool.

“People like us don’t become heroes, alright? We are usually the ones that get locked up. And knowing my luck, I will be thrown straight into some loony house, in a straitjacket because of these powers! You guys have to be absolute fools if you think any of this would work.” JJ huffed as he stood up, shoving the mask into his pocket before making his way to the door. “I don’t care about other people, alright? I care about you guys, my mum and most importantly, myself. Why the hell should I risk my life for a world that won’t appreciate it anyways.” Both boys stood there stunned, looking at JJ with wide eyes and parted lips.

“JJ—“

“No, okay? Superheroes are meant for comic books and movies, not real life, alright? Grow up.” And with that, JJ slammed the door as he left the apartment.

JJ scoffed, muttering to himself as he walked through the dark streets of New York, deciding to take the longer route back home. He needed the time to clear his head, grasp his thoughts. He didn’t know what the boys were thinking, he was definitely not fit to be a hero. Were they out of their minds? Give a guy some abnormal powers and suddenly he should be putting on a cape and preaching morals. That wasn’t JJ, that would never be JJ. He was selfish, arrogant at times and beyond prideful. But he was aware. He knew what he was and he knew he didn’t have what it took to be a hero. Pope and John B needed to stop being ignorant and see that.

He rolled his eyes at the thought and continued his way back to his building complex, hands shoved in his pockets with his right-hand clenching around the fabric of the mask. Small puffs escaped his lips as JJ started regretting taking the long way home. It was October and winter was promising to come early, JJ could tell that much by the stinging cold against his cheeks. The cold was just the cherry on top of his bitter mood.

Yet, as JJ continued to make his way home, he could hear the sound of people talking, causing a frown to form on his face. JJ had walked this way many times, especially during the night, and the chance of passing someone down these streets were fairly rare. Maybe the odd one here or there, but a group of people? Definitely not common.

At first, he ignored it. He had gotten used to the heightened senses over the week, being able to hear things from a distance even when he didn’t try. For all he knew, he could be hearing the muttering of some people a few blocks over. So, he ignored it and carried on walking. But then it started getting louder and clearer. JJ felt his whole body go on alert, the hair on his arm standing up, like his body knew something was off. He could feel it in his gut, a horrible realisation that this wasn’t going to be his usual walk home.

It wasn’t until when JJ turned the corner that he realised just what he had walked into. There stood around five men, all wearing masks that covered the lower half of their faces. They were dressed in all black, probably to draw less attention to themselves, but JJ could see the glint of guns in the light of the lampposts shining down on the street. They stood outside a building, three of them seeming to try and block the view of the other two. It was then when JJ’s brain actually caught up with what he was seeing and realised what the building was. A bank. These guys were trying to rob a bank.

Well shit.

The way JJ saw it, he had two options here. He could turn around, pretend he didn’t see anything and let them get on with what they were doing. Chances were they would either get caught by the police or he would see that the bank had been successfully robbed tomorrow morning on the news. Or JJ could do something about it. He quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket, only to see that it was dead. Of course, it was the good ol’ Maybank luck. He shoved it back into his pocket and looked towards the five men.

Then an idea popped into his head. A stupid, insane idea that was nothing short of self-deprecating and downright dumb. It was short of one of the worst ideas he had ever had. JJ had done a lot of weird stuff in his life but this definitely tops it all. And the worst part was that he was going through with it, because as much as he hated it, it was his only choice right now.

“I’m gonna regret this.” JJ huffed to himself as he snatched the mask out of his pocket and pulled it down over his face, adjusting it so he could see through the small holes Pope had made. He let out a breath, shaking his shoulders a little as he tried to pump himself up, get his adrenaline going.

“You got this, it’s not like they have guns or anything,” JJ muttered to himself as he placed his hands on the wall of the building across from the bank, the one he was currently hiding around so the bank robbers wouldn’t see him, before he began to scale the building. I mean, who would expect the enemy coming from above, right?

He stopped around half way up the building, thanks to the heightened senses he was able to still see the criminals clearly. He watched them closely, seeing only the three men that were on lookout where the one with guns. “Oh, let’s hope this works.” He whispered to himself before extending his arm out.

“What the fuck!” One of them called out as his gun was snatched from his hands in the blink of an eye, his two friends following a similar reaction. JJ wasn’t even thinking about where he was throwing the guns, just as long as they were nowhere near these dudes when he confronted them.

He watched them freak out, yelling at each other as they looked around for the culprit to their missing guns. He heard the half-ass threats they used and tried not to snort before he shot a web to one of the lampposts nearby and swung down, landing gracefully at the top of the lamppost.

“Guys, I hate to break it to you but someone lied, bank doesn’t open until tomorrow morning.” JJ called out to them, giving a small shrug. All five heads snapped up to look at him, and the glares he was receiving was enough to tell him that these guys weren’t big jokesters.

“Piss off, kid, this is none of your business.” One of them replied in a blunt, scruffy voice. It honestly made JJ cringe a little.

“You see,” JJ sighed. “I’ve made it my business so…” He trailed off before snapping his wrist, a web shooting out to stick to the head of the closest criminal and with a firm tug, his head hit the pole before he slumped to the ground.

One of the men growled at JJ, clearly not happy about some weird kid interrupting their wee heist. “You had your warning, kid. Come down and play with the adults.” He taunted before JJ noticed the glimmer of something in the light. A knife. Of-fucking-course the gun wasn’t the only weapon they had on them.

“That’s a bit unfair, isn’t it?” He commented, shooting a web to wrap around the criminal’s wrist, prepared to pull it out of his grasp, only for the robber to tug the web instead, sending JJ flying off the lamppost and falling on his ass to the ground. “Fuck!” He hissed as he quickly jumped to his feet.

“Life is unfair,” The criminal muttered before reaching to punch JJ but he easily dodged it. The speed and agility with which he moved with clearly distracting the criminal long enough for JJ to kick him hard enough that sent him stumbling back into the wall. JJ barely had time to process it before he snapped his hand to the left, stopping a fist that was inches away from his face.

“Nice try, asshole.” He huffed before twisting the criminal’s arm before sending a swift punch to his jaw. There was a satisfying pop sound that told JJ he would be preoccupied for at least a couple of minutes.

He then noticed two of the criminals trying to corner him, and he couldn’t help but smirk a little under the mask at just how cliché it seemed. In seconds, JJ has webs shooting out each wrist, attaching to the chests of each men, before yanking the two towards each other. Groans echoed through the empty street as both men collided with each other.

JJ’s head snapped to the side when he heard an angry battle call as he saw the man with the now dislocated jaw running towards him. JJ crouched down a little before he began running towards the criminal, his arms hooking around his knees. He kept running forwards until JJ felt glass smash around him and the two of them fell through. He quickly got up, wincing at the window he had just broken before turning to the criminal and giving him a good smack in the face—he definitely wasn’t holding back with his strength on that one.

JJ began to work fast, not knowing how long each of the criminals would stay dazed and unconscious for. In no time, he had them piled together, a healthy amount of web fluid keeping them tied together. They wouldn’t be going anywhere—at least for twenty minutes. But it was just JJ’s luck that he didn’t have to worry about that time limit because not even seconds after he finished, he heard the sirens and saw the blue lights flashing down the streets.

Police cars began to surround the bank, creating a semi-circle to prevent any possible escape. Officers began to exit their vehicles, guns set and loaded and now aimed towards JJ. “This is NYPD, keep your hands where we can see them!” One officer called out.

“Shit,” JJ muttered to himself as he raised his hands in the air, watching as officers slowly approached the crime scene.

He watched as a look of confusion washed over their faces as they took in the scene: the smashed window, the five tied up men, the weird silky rope that was binding them together and of course, JJ in his crappy mask.

He watched as they evaluated the situation. Watched as they tried to piece it all together before one officer—the badge telling JJ her name was Captain Peterkin—stopped in front of JJ with raised eyebrows. “Did you do this?”

“Sure did, ma’am.”

“Why?” Another officer perked up, JJ could see his badge said Officer Shoupe.

“They were robbing a bank, what did you want me to do? Sit around making daisy chains until you showed up?” JJ immediately defended, glaring as best as he could with the mask on his face.

Peterkin smiled a little before she cleared her throat, JJ’s attention shifting to her. “Then I guess we owe you a great deal of thanks for your work.”

“All in a day’s work, can I leave now? I’m sure the security cameras will give you all the answers you need.” JJ stated as he already began to take a few steps away from the crime scene, walking backwards.

“Can we at least know your name?” Peterkin asked.

JJ looked down at his wrists before he snapped them up, watching as the web attached to nearby building. He looked at Peterkin and couldn’t help grin under his mask as he answered her question before tugging on the web and swinging away into the night.

“Call me Spider-Man.”

Taglist: @alphinias @popcornhook @loveyatopluto @teamnick @peanutbelley @iccyyyybitch @jiara-maybank @donkey-is-my-spirit-animal @carissarose16 @unspokenfaith @largedenominationsplease @jiaaras @homebody-nobody @smileymikey @hvitstark @shaymq7 @hmspogue @falseungodlyhours @aarchiess @rcsales @raeoffuckingsunshine @jjskiaras @parker-holland-osterfield @thesadprose

#jiara #outer banks #obx #jj maybank #kiara carrera #jj maybank x kiara carrera #outer banks fanfiction #jiara fanfiction #obx fic #my fic #spiderman au #marvel #tale of a slightly unstable teen hero

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ladywhaiyvern · 4 years ago

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Musings of An Otaku #9- On Thomas Oliver....

Being a fan of Power Rangers since the beginning back in 1993 and watching it religiously till Power Rangers: Wild Force. Then having an on-again and off-again to pretty much now. I pretty much watched a few episodes (out of every incarnation) of the Disney-era, got bored or disgusted by the looks of how they approached it and stopped watching. Had hopes when Saban purchased the rights back from the mouse but found myself once again, doing the same thing. Watch a few episodes out of the current series, get bored or disgusted by once again how they approached the series and stopped. Saban passes the torch to Hasbro and I have not picked up watching a single episode at all. Even going back and watching all the Disney seasons to see if my opinions have changed and tried not to compare them so-much to the original source material. However, this is not what this muse is about. It’s a season by season breakdown. Or an American comparison to the original Sentai. No.

There’s one Ranger in particular that every single person seems to be fascinated with. Someone that everyone seems to worship the ground that he walks on. He’s somehow the most powerful Ranger that has ever walked upon planet Earth. Everything seems to revolve around him. And it’s not just the fanbase. Lately, it seems like Hasbro can’t get off of Tommy’s dick either. Every piece of nostalgia has to be Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. There are a Shit ton of other Rangers out there that deserve the same treatment. He is not an omniscient God

Now, okay….before I go any further, I am not in any way shape or form dissing Jason David Frank. I love the guy! No, no, no, this is about the character that he portrayed. Unlike some people, I see both JDF and Tommy as two different individuals. Two different people. Like both could reside besides each other in the real world.

This is just about Tommy. And NOT the Tommy from the Boom Studios comic series. Cause...oh my god...yes, he is one powerful son of a bitch. No. No. This is just about the television series, Tommy! No alternate universes being thrown in.

Let’s step back in time for a minute. When Tommy was first introduced into the series and became the evil Green Ranger- I enjoyed the character. I loved the struggle he faced between being good or being evil. Yes, while under Rita’s spell he was pretty powerful but one has to wonder if he wasn’t her power that was enhancing his power and abilities. Any Ranger with the help of an evil witches power can become a pretty strong opponent.

The entire evil Green Ranger saga ends and Tommy joins the side of good (obviously…). Tommy didn’t single handedly defeat Rita in the end because she was banished to the depths of space in another dumpster by Lord Zedd. Moving into season two, obviously we have Lord Zedd taking over and the entire Green Candle saga starting. When he loses the Green Ranger power, it’s understandable. Things do not last forever. Power can’t last forever. Sad to see him leave the Ranger team but I wasn’t devastated. Yes, it was a complete shocker to see the White Ranger power being created. Awesome, new Ranger, new Power. HOWEVER, I knew Tommy wasn’t up and done completely being a Ranger. I had a slight feeling he was going to come back for that. His story as the Green Ranger may have been finished, but this new chapter was just starting.

What I did not like though, was when the Power Transfer took place and he just pushed his way into the leader position. He did not even give Rocky a chance. In Ranger-lore the Red Ranger is typically the leader (no matter what character type they possess). Yeah, Rocky may seem a little aloof (and he’s completely different from Jason), but he still should have been given a chance to prove himself in the position. Was it alright for Tommy to just push him aside without allowing that chance? Why was everyone else so chill with this decision? It was kinda a dick move there, Thomas.

Zeo comes trotting along and almost all the storylines are still focused around Tommy. Granted, yes..he’s finally the Red Ranger. In my eyes, he finally has the mantle to be leader of the group. But still, why was he singled out. I thought the Rangers implored teamwork. I thought to fight evil, they had to fight together- all of them- together. Not this, “Oh! If we just attack Tommy- the others do not matter.” Poor Adam and Rocky were just kinda pushed towards the back burner in this season. And I won’t even get into the strange relationship that seemed to be going on between them. It’s not like Tommy single handedly beat Rita and Zedd. They hightailed it out of dodge when the Machine Empire showed up on their doorstep. Not like he single handedly defeated the Machine Empire either. Shit, the Zeo Rangers did not even destroy the Machine Empire. Zedd and Rita came back to give them their just deserts.

Shifting into Turbo, we see Thomas once again being given the mantle of Red Ranger. Shocker. By now the Rangers are getting ready to graduate (except you, Justin…). This is obviously foreshadowing things to come and another power transfer. Also noted here is where Tommy mentions that when he graduates, he mentions something about becoming a racecar driver or something to that line. If that is the case, then why the hell did years later he show up with a fucking PHD in Paleontology. I would still LOVE to see the look on Billy’s face for that one! He was the science nerd. IMHO, he should have been the one in that role. But nooooo...his character had to be sent off to an all water planet to never be heard from again. In my eye’s the character of Tommy will never be related in any way shape or form to Science. I honestly saw him opening up a dojo of his own (whether it be on the other side of Angel Grove or some other town). When I think of “Tommy” my mind connects that to martial arts and fitness. In a way, he could have been a mentor to a young team of Rangers (a team that revolved around martial arts and not Dinosaurs).

But seriously, I digress. Where within the television tropes did he become this all power being that all of fandom and marketdom has to worship?! Many other Rangers have shown time and again that they have faced similar situations (that he had gone through) and prevailed. What makes him so special? I mean seriously, cut me some slack! ANDROS FUCKING SACRIFICED ZORDON’S LIFE TO SAVE THE UNIVERSE!!!!!!!!!!!! He did not want to swing that Drill Saber and end Zordon's life, but he still did. He may not have been the best leader. He was kind of a pissy asshole (but I loved him anyways and still do). But this isn’t about Andros. Why is all the attention drawn to this one single character though? Not everyone can relate to Tommy, so why is so much emphasis in Ranger history based around him?

Tommy Oliver is an overrated individual and as the series went on, I became more and more distant away from him. As a character, I only enjoy him in the very early Green Ranger days. I tolerate him from then on. As a leader, yes, I liked Jason. I liked Rocky for his goofy side and he should have been given a chance to prove himself as a leader. In the alternate universe of the comic book series- I absolutely love Tommy. Lord Drakkon, Shattered Grid, pure evil, pure insanity, pure mayhem. Yes! Jason David Frank- is an amazing person, a great actor, he did a good job portraying a character that I love to hate.

#musings #otaku #otaku life #power rangers #green ranger #white ranger #tommy #tommy oliver #mmpr #mmpr comic #jdf #jason david frank

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heart-of-gold-outlaw · 5 years ago

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A Smile is Something to Be Cherished, Dear: an Arthur Morgan x Modern!Reader Fanfic

"If I have to chop one more piece of firewood," you say as you brandish your axe, "Imma start wearing flannel. Y'all can call me Lumber Jack. Or maybe Jack Lumber. Or Lack Jumber. Or--"

"For chrissakes," Micah snarls. He's sharpening his knife at a nearby table. "We get it, Y/N."

You shrug and bring the axe down hard, splitting a piece of wood clean in two with one swing. "I pretended it was your head."

To give him credit, Micah doesn't do or say much of anything in retalition. Instead, he just sighs, mutters to himself, and leaves. You're glad to see him go. Over the last few weeks, ever since Arthur found you in the Grizzlies, freezing and terrified, you've decided Micah Bell is your least favorite out of the bunch. Something about him just screams "psychopath." You're surprised that Dutch, for all his intelligence, can't see it.

You've only been with the Van Der Linde gang for a little while. Honestly, you're not too sure what to make of all them. Hosea seems nice enough, and Dutch treats you fair, which is all you can ask for. They may not be the most conventional people, but they're trying their best to do right by you. The whole thing makes your head spin. A few weeks ago, you were in your living room, screaming through a twelve-page essay due the next day. Now? Now you're a hundred and thirty-ish years in the past... and running with a bunch of outlaws at that.

Yeah. Not exactly the life you thought you'd live. But hey: at least you're not dead.

You finish chopping firewood and set the axe aside. Nobody really says for sure that you have to do chores, but you don't like feeling useless. And besides: everybody in the Van Der Linde gang does their part. Why should you be the only exception?

A few of the girls--Tilly, Karen, and Mary-Beth, if you've got their names down--lounge by one of the wagons when you approach. They look up and offer you what seem like genuine smiles. You give one of your own and plop yourself in the grass next to them.

"How're you holdin' up, Y/N?" The blonde one--Karen, you think--asks. "I know this all must be pretty strange."

"Yeah," Tilly murmurs. "We just wanna make sure you're doin' okay."

You blink, then immediately switch gears. They didn't catch you off-guard. Nosiree. "I'm okay." You shrug one shoulder. "Beats what I was doing back in my time."

Mary-Beth leans forward excitedly, and you briefly think she's going to grab your hand. You get ready to pull away, just in case.

"Must be quite the experience, time travel and all," she says, practically vibrating. "What's the future like, Y/N?"

"Mary-Beth," Karen admonishes with a roll of her eyes, "don't ask them that. Haven't they been through enough?"

"Oh lay off." Mary-Beth swats her away with a mischeivous grin. You can practically see the gears turning in her head. "I'm just askin' what everybody's thinkin'."

Your heart hammers in your chest as you think overtime about what to say. You're still not sure how this whole thing works, if there are things you shouldn't say, things that might prove catastrophic to the timeline and whatnot. Every science fiction movie you've ever seen suddenly plays in your head. And even though they all vary in success, one thing's clear: time is messy. Space-time is even messier. Travel through both? Might as well call it a goddamn hurricane.

Thankfully, Tilly notices your discomfort and gives Mary-Beth a hard look. "Y/N doesn't have to answer all your questions, y'know." She shifts into a glare. "Maybe give them some time to get used to everything first, okay?"

Bless Tilly Jackson, you decide. The only voice of reason in the bunch.

You're about to thank her, or maybe you're about to change the subject, when Uncle comes tearing up to your little group, that wild smile on his face you've learned means trouble. Still, when he mentions going to a small livestock town, you all but jump at the offer. You've been meaning to see what ordinary life looks like in the past. Maybe this is the perfect opportunity.

And no, you tagging along has nothing to do with the fact that Arthur's going to be there, too.

// // // // // //

The journey into Valentine is pretty uneventful, save for a broken wagon... and someone getting kicked to death by their own horse. The girls scream when they see it, and Uncle jumps a little. Even Arthur mutters a soft "shit" under his breath. You, though, just stare. It isn't the first dead body you've seen. Probably won't be the last, either, if you have to guess.

"God, I wish that were me," you find yourself saying, thinking of the internet back in your time, of the dark humor, and how it's used as a coping mechanism.

Five heads immediately swivel your way. Tilly, Mary-Beth, and Karen stare at you with their mouths agape, while Uncle watches you like you've grown a third arm out of your chest. Arthur eyes you with a look you can't read, and you briefly wonder what's wrong. Then, it hits you like a sledgehammer and you internally groan.

Right, you think. Generational gaps.

"I'm joking," you explain. "It's how we cope in my time."

Luckily, Arthur chooses that moment to urge the horses forward, and the wagon starts toward Valentine again. The incident quickly fades, and the girls are soon buzzing with excitement. You can't help but feel a little anxious. Adjusting to the Van Der Linde gang has been tough; you don't want to be overwhelmed by everything once you get into town. With that in mind, you decide to stick close to Arthur. Just since he found you, that's all. It's the familiarity, you tell yourself. Nothing else.

Valentine isn't the most glamorous of places, but it's not too shabby, either. Immediately, you're in awe. A frontier town. An actual frontier town in the 1890's. The history nerd in you threatens to explode as you pass by the shops, the saloon, and the stables. Arthur stops the wagon in a little clearing just after the general store. You barely notice.

"Alright," he says, low and firm. "Remember: keep a low profile, but try an' find some leads. No trouble now, ya hear?"

The girls murmur various replies, then hop out of the wagon, dashing off like little dogs to sniff out something interesting. You watch them go, then look back to Arthur, silently waiting for him to send you off on your own. He watches you for a moment, as if debating with himself, before he sighs and starts shoving Uncle out of the wagon.

"Go make yourself useful, old man."

Uncle grumbles something under his breath, but ultimately does as he's told. After a few seconds, he disappears into the general store. You're left alone with Arthur. Not that you particularly mind. It's better than any alternative you can think of. As you climb to the ground, legs cramped from the ride, you take a moment to look around. The town isn't really anything special. Oddly enough, you think of the time your best friend dragged you to a rodeo in the middle of Wyoming. Valentine looks something similar to that.

"Holding up okay?" Arthur says, startling you out of your thoughts. You can't help but jump a little when you turn around and find him right behind you. He gives you a look, then sighs and motions toward the stables with his head. "C'mon."

He starts off in their direction. You practically have to jog to keep up with him, but you don't really care about that. Honestly, the thrill of being in a different place (and the past at that) is enough to make you forgive just about anything.

"What d'ya think we'll find?" You ask, almost bouncing up and down with excitement. "Are we gonna--" You break off and lower your voice. "Are we gonna steal some horses?"

Arthur glances down at you and huffs out a laugh... well, half of one, for that matter. "You ain't stealin' anything for a while, Y/N."

"Oh." You don't even try to hide your disappointment. "No horses, then?"

He shakes his head, laughing again when you pout. Briefly, you think of sticking out your foot and tripping him, but something tells you that wouldn't end well. You don't want a six-foot-something, pissed off outlaw chasing you around... especially when he's your ride home.

The two of you reach the stables, and Arthur holds the door for you. You skip past him, stopping dead when you catch sight of the rows and rows of stalls. The horses are absolutely beautiful. Almost instantly, your eyes zero in on a Appaloosa gelding, and before you know what you're doing, you're walking over and gently touching the tip of his nose. He whinnies softly, nuzzling your hand a few seconds later. And as you stare at him, absently stroking the side of his face, you realize Arthur's moved to stand beside you.

"I think he likes me," you say. You brush the horse's mane back from his forehead. "Always wanted a horse."

The corners of Arthur's lips twitch, but he doesn't smile. Instead, he looks at the stall--at the price--and shakes his head.

"Maybe next time, Y/N." He gently steers you away. "Why don't you check on Uncle, make sure he ain't dead. I'll finish up here."

You sigh and head out of the stables, narrowly missing a pile of horse manure. A quick peek at the general store reveals Uncle's passed out cold in the front. You shake your head with a small grin. At least you don't have to worry about him causing any trouble.

As you start to head toward him, you catch sight of Tilly. You can tell by the look on her face that something's wrong, awfully wrong, and almost on cue, an angry-looking man grabs her arm and hauls her toward an alley. You feel your breath hitch. Still, you're practically running their way before you can stop and think about a better approach. You have no ideas, no plan other than go go go. Not that it matters. From what it looks like, Tilly needs somebody there--right now.

You round the corner and see her pressed against the wall, the angry man's face close to hers. Neither one of them seems to know you're there. Good. Taking those blessed extra seconds, you spy a rock on the ground and quickly pick it up. It's decent in size. Won't kill a man, but it'll hurt like hell. That's all you need.

With aim that's really more luck than skill, you hurl the rock at the man with all the force you can muster. It strikes him square on the side of the head. Solid. A great hit. He stumbles to the side a little as Tilly's wild, frightened eyes find yours. Something about them makes you more brazen than before, and you take a few steps toward the man, hands clenched into fists.

"Back off," you hiss. "Now."

The man, who unfortunately looks like he's recovered from his shock, glares at you. Then, before you can even track him, he's barreling toward you, grabbing your shoulders and pinning you against the side of the alley. You feel the breath leave your lungs in one big gust.

"You made a helluva mistake," he snarls, putrid breath wafting over your face.

You gag and try to get a knee or a leg or something up to hit him, but there's no use. He's got you trapped. Dimly, you're aware that Tilly's gone, and you have a brief moment of triumph. Smart girl. The last thing you need is for her to get hurt, too.

"My entire life's a mistake," you gasp out between gulps for air. "... Why don't you add this to the list?"

Whether that was the right thing to say or not, you'll never know. In the next few seconds, just as you're certain the guy's reeling his fist back for a punch, his weight's suddenly gone and you're slumping to the ground. You can hear shouting, cursing, and words you really don't want to repeat. And through it all--one thing is constant.

Arthur's here.

Several seconds later (or maybe it's minutes; you honestly lose track of time), strong, warm hands are hauling you upright. They're also surprisingly gentle. Calloused and slightly bloody, but gentle.

"Easy, Y/N," Arthur soothes when your breathing becomes frantic. "You're alright."

Somehow, you find the courage to look up at him. He's watching you, concern in his eyes, and you hate that you're the cause of it. Still, you've never been more glad to see him.

"I thought he was gonna kill me," you find yourself saying. Then--you start to laugh. Hysterical, unstoppable chortles that come from no rational part of your mind. "Oh man, I looked the Devil in the eye and walked backwards into hell, didn't I?"

Arthur frowns, then glances around. You're suddenly aware that a crowd's gathering... and that it's probably a good idea to get the hell out of town.

"C'mon," he says, carefully leading you back to the wagon. "I think that's enough excitement for one day."

Finally got around to writing my Arthur Morgan x Modern!Reader multi-chapter fic. Y’know... the one I promised ages and ages ago. Hope ya enjoyed! I’ll also be posting this to AO3 under the username Nopride4531, so if ya wanna leave a comment or a kudos, feel free!

Likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated! Take care y’all!

Next Chapter: Lionheart

Inspired Playlist Track: Panic! At the Disco -- “High Hopes”

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #modern!reader #arthur morgan x modern!reader #arthur morgan x reader #2nd person pov #hurt/comfort #fic #my writing #rdr2 fic #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #cowboys #outlaws #yeehaw

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waveypedia · 5 years ago

Text

Key to a Memory

(warning for swearing)

{people need a melody to open their eyes

like a key to a memory frozen in time

holding on to everything, you’re stuck in the past

boy dontcha know that the world moves fast

it’s been a little while since we’ve been together

it’s been a long time since we were young and wild, remember

when we were friends, remember}

May 14, 2019 I 6:26 pm

UNKNOWN NUMBER: GYRO

UNKNOWN NUMBER: HEY GYRO

UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s me Della!! Your bud!!!

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I’m back from space!!!

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I can’t believe you have the same number you nerd! lol I remember when Uncle Scrooge finally forced you to get a phone and you got a super cheap one and then upgraded it with your own tech

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I can’t wait to see how much more upgraded and fancy your phone is now!

UNKNOWN NUMBER: sorry for not texting you sooner I got back a couple days ago but things have just been really hectic since then ya know??

UNKNOWN NUMBER: anyway I know you’re probably busy changing the world and inventing amazing things for Uncle Scrooge

UNKNOWN NUMBER: he told me you got an intern!! Congrats!! I can’t wait to meet them

UNKNOWN NUMBER: just call me when you get a chance ok? I’d really like to catch up

“GYRO!!” Della screamed, kicking open the door to the lab. Gyro scowled at his desk and scrawled a quick note to outfit the elevator with self-opening doors. The scientist sighed and stood up reluctantly, stepping around his desk to be in full view. “What is it now, Della?”

Della sprinted into the lab, her grin threatening to split her face in two. She exuberantly waved a bundle of papers in Gyro’s face. “Donnie and I got tickets to the new Galaxy Wars movie, and you’re coming!! Thursday at 6!! Be there or be square!!”

Gyro snorted and gently waved her off, pushing the tickets out of his face. “Dels, I’m busy here. Besides, any self-respecting scientist knows those movies are garbage.”

Della fake-pouted and slung her arm around Gyro’s shoulders, despite the height difference. She had to lean and go up on her tiptoes to manage, making Gyro burst out in a fit of laughter. She shrugged, tugging Gyro down to her height. “Whatever. The premiere was a couple weeks ago, so you probably won’t get into a fistfight with an overzealous fan this time-”

“-Their fault-” Gyro muttered under his breath as Della prattled on.

“-Aaaaaand Cousin Gladdy’ll be there! With his luck we probably won’t get kicked out by the ushers,” Della finished proudly.

Gyro rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Ugh, Gladstone? That man is too self-absorbed. Takes one to know one. And does that mean Fethry will be there as well?”

“Yep!” Della beamed. “He loves science, Gy, and he loves you! He’ll grow on you one day.”

“Highly unlikely.” Gyro shoved her arm off and stretched, standing up to his full height. “I grudgingly respect Fethry’s passion and his interest in scientific fields. He’s just so…” Gyro huffed. “Annoying.”

Della poked him in the beak. “Whatever. If you think Fethry’s annoying, my buddy Loopy from flight school will be there and she’ll blow your mind. But in a good way! Loopy’s amazing!”

Gyro groaned and slapped a hand on his face, slowly dragging it down. “Loopy and I are your only friends, aren’t we?”

Della puffed her chest out in mock effrontery. “I have lots of friends! I’m the best at making friends! They’re just all over the globe, you know, cause of all the amazing and daring adventuring I do!”

Gyro snorted and knocked his friend with his shoulder. “Whatever. When one of these international ‘friends’ comes around to Duckburg and hangs out with you beyond the adventure, let me know.”

Della smirked. “So you’ll be there?”

“Fine. I’ll be there.” Gyro affirmed, rolling his eyes.Della beamed mischievously. “Wonderful! See you there! Also it’s a sleepover and I’m adding you to a group chat specifically for this event now byeeeeee!!!”

“WHAT?!” Gyro squawked, racing after Della, but the elevator dinged and carried her far away. “Della! No! Come back! DELLA!!! I WILL NOT SUBJECT MYSELF TO THE TORTURES OF YOUR CHILDISH SLEEPOVER!!!” He chanced a look at his phone. It was already blowing up with texts from Della and Fethry.

Gyro groaned and slammed his head down on his desk, grateful for the solitude of his lab. He pulled up the calendar Scrooge filled with his deadlines from the board and added the movie night so he wouldn’t forget. A small, pleased smile played at his beak.

He picked up his phone, muted the group chat, and returned to his work.

read 9:28 pm

May 15 I 4:03 pm

Della Duck: hey dumbass

Della Duck: they have read receipts now stupid

Della Duck: I know you saw my messages

Della Duck: whatever I know you’re hella busy just call me when you get the chance

Della Duck: hahah did you see that? hella! I used new slang!

Della Duck: Louie taught it to me :D

Della Duck: I can’t believe his name is Louie and not Rebel! I’m kinda mad at Donald but also it suits him more than Rebel

Della Duck: Dewey though… he’s DEFINITELY a Turbo

Della Duck: Huey could go either way but he’s okay with Huey so I guess I am too

Della Duck: It’s a lot to take in

Della Duck: although Webby would be overjoyed to be Jet or Rebel

Della Duck: I can’t believe I have an extra daughter!!! how cool is that?? four kids for the price of three!!

Della Duck: or maybe it’s more like six kids for the price of three since Webby had friends over today and they all seem close

Della Duck: Ooh you know who would be a good Rebel? Lena! apparently she just came back from the shadow realm??? I missed so much

Della Duck: i can’t believe you guys got to fight magica de spell without me AND she had a kid

Della Duck: she’s still kinda hot ngl

Della Duck: but louie showed me a picture of her after she lost her magic and ehhhh

Della Duck: but also there are lots of hot people around these days and I’m kinda freaked out

Della Duck: like I made a best friend of my roommate on the moon!! Her name’s Penumbra but I call her Penny and I’d let her stomp on me. Best part is she probably would

Della Duck: also Uncle Scrooge got a new pilot & driver and I hate him cause he’s sorta replacing me?? But also he’s hot in a himbo kinda way

Della Duck: I know you have insanely high standards but you gotta back me up here gyro Launchpad is kinda hot

Della Duck: damn i’ve missed our conversations about various hot people and our lack of love lives

Della Duck: I told you about Penny you gotta fill me in on the current hotties in the Duckburg science community

Della Duck: I also met your intern! He seems nice ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ) ;) ;) ;)

Della Duck: i can hear your voice. “Della that is an excessive amount of emoticons”

Della Duck: well if you want me to stop you’ll just have to reply ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;)

Della Duck: at least you’re not telling me to use “emojis”Della Duck: apparently they all have hidden meanings and I don’t understand

Della Duck: Louie, Dewey, and Lena tried to teach Uncle Scrooge and I

Della Duck: I’m ashamed to say I think he fared better than I did

Della Duck: he’s old!! He’s supposed to be clueless!! I’m not old I was just on the moon for a decade!! That’s gotta count for something right?

4:46 pm

Della Duck: i see how it is

Della Duck: ignore me all you want but i’m right

The sun was nearly below the horizon, painting the evening sky and the waves below it in a plethora of muted colors, when Della broke the topic. “Yo. I think Magica de Spell is kinda hot.”

Gyro swerved to stare at her so fast he felt something in his neck crack. “Magica?! She’s ancient; are you crazy?!”

Della shrugged, kicking sand around absentmindedly with her bare toes. “Yeah, but she doesn’t look it. She’s hot in an unattainable kind of way.”

Gyro snorted, loud and sad. “I know how that feels.”

Della nudged him teasingly. “What’s going on in your love life? I shared, now you have to.”

Gyro rolled his eyes and nudged her back, harder. “You know nothing’s happening.” He shrugged carelessly. “It’s not like I have much time outside of work.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you refuse to take care of yourself and you act like you’ll die if you leave the lab,” Della said good-naturedly. “You should come on an adventure with us!”

Gyro sighed contentedly and waved her away. “I’ll stick to the lab, thanks. My inventions’ corrupted morality circuits provide me quite enough stress and adventure, thank you very much.”

(He couldn’t very well tell her that her dear ol’ uncle had entrusted him with the project of a lifetime, his chance to thank her for her gift of friendship, his chance to prove himself to Mr. McDuck for once and for all, his chance to redeem himself from the smoking failure that was 2BO. He didn’t have to run himself ragged working on the Spear of Selene day and night, but this was important, far more important than anything Gyro had worked on at McDuck Industries before. For his career, and for his friendship. And he wanted to do it right.)

(Shame he failed in the end anyway.)

Della sighed assent, smiling, and leaned back on her elbows, working her fingers into the sand. She had given up for now, but Gyro knew she would broach the subject again soon, from a new angle, with a new tactic. Della Duck never gave up.

“Maybe one day,” Gyro said, surprising himself. After this whole Spear debacle is said and done.

Della beamed and knocked her shoulder into his affectionately. “I’ll hold you to that!”

Gyro smiled wryly. “I know you will.”

Gyro pushed up his glasses and studied Della’s texts, willing his eyes not to unfocus and his brain not to zone out. He read them once, twice, three times. Four.

He began typing.

Gyro Gearloose: I remember-

Gyro Gearloose: My love life is as nonexistent as it was when you left-

Gyro Gearloose: emojis are zealous anyway-

Gyro Gearloose: I’m sorry-

He deleted his words, frustrated, nerves and old, painful memories rubbed raw, and never sent a reply.

June 11 I 2:09 pm

Della Duck: so Fenton and I went out for coffee today

Della Duck: not on a date, just as a chance to get to know each other platonically

Della Duck: he’s so much like you

Della Duck: not on the surface. In fact you guys are pretty much opposites

Della Duck: but you both care so much, even though you show it differently

Della Duck: i know you care your prickly demeanor can’t fool me

Della Duck: you’re both incredibly passionate about sciences

Della Duck: you’re both super awkward

Della Duck: he has high praise for you, and he really admires you, but it sounds like you’re not that close and I think you totally should be!

Della Duck: I know you’re probably annoyed that I’m meddling in your (love) life again, but get used to it!! I’m the best wingman and friend and I’m here to stay!!

Della Duck: even if you don’t text me back

Della Duck: (but seriously, please text me back. I miss you.)

Della Duck: he said you might need some space and I guess that makes sense but i just don’t understand why

Della Duck: that’s the only reason I haven’t stormed down to the lab by now

Della Duck: Did i do something before I took off for the moon?

Della Duck: or are you like Donnie and you’re mad?Della Duck: at least I think Donnie’s mad

Della Duck: or he will be

Della Duck: he’s on a cruise, Gyro! A fucking cruise!!!

Della Duck: he left the day I got back and now he’s gone for a fucking month

Della Duck: he thinks I’m dead

Della Duck: I miss him so much

Della Duck: the cruise doesn’t allow cell phones so I can’t even contact him and tell him I’m alive

Della Duck: But Huey and I sent postcards!! I don’t know if they’ll reach him but I really hope they do

Della Duck: Huey and Webby have been checking the mailbox meticulously to see if he sends one back

Della Duck: sorry for ranting

Della Duck: I just miss him

Della Duck: I miss you too you know? Yeah i’m being stupid sappy again but it’s dumb that you’re right here, across the city, and we haven’t talked

Della Duck: call me gyro you fucking coward

2:43 pm

Della Duck: also Fenton is totally Gizmoduck right

Della Duck: I met Gizmoduck once when he came to formally greet me

Della Duck: and i’ve seen him around the city lots

Della Duck: but they’re so similar. They have the same mannerisms

Della Duck: I guess that means you built his armor then right?

Della Duck: or you helped

Della Duck: it’s great Gyro

Della Duck: look at you! An invention that didn’t turn evil!!

Della Duck: I’m proud of you bud

“Have you ever thought about hiring someone to help in the lab?” Della asked one day, apropos of nothing.

She had dragged Gyro into a fancy coffee shop - one he’d probably be banned from had he attempted to patronize it on his own, and one he would be in the post-Spear of Selene era - and forced him to take a break from the top secret project he’d been devoting all his time to. They bought overpriced, bougie coffees on Mr. McDuck’s dime and traded jabs without any real bite to them, as was customary for them. Della mocked Gyro’s unique taste for black licorice, again. Same old, same old.

And then, this.

Gyro paused, his ceramic mug halfway to his face. “I’m fine on my own. Any help would only get in my way. They would stumble over their own feet and I would have to take precious time off of my own projects to tediously help them flail and fall.”

Della set down her coffee and leaned forward with her elbows on the table. “You’re so cynical. Besides, you’re working yourself to death down there! It might help if you had someone else to lighten the load.”

Gyro paused. “I suppose I might be more productive if I didn’t have to do the menial tasks beneath me…”

“-And you could make a FRIEND!!!” Della cheered, standing up and leaning heavily on the table, her enthusiasm thundering in full-force. “Someone to chat with on late nights deep in projects, someone who understands your passion for science, someone you can count on when Donnie and I are off on an adventure!”

Gyro groaned, startled at first but then settling into resignation. “I should have known you had an ulterior motive.”

Della giggled, batting her eyelashes jokingly. “I only have your best interests at heart.”

Gyro shrugged and swirled his quickly-cooling coffee around in his mug. “Besides, Dels, you know there’s a reason you’re one of my only friends, right? You and Dickie and Daisy, you’re the people I’m closest with and that’s because you wouldn’t put up with my prickly, stay-alone-all-the-time bullshit. You guys drag me out of whatever place I’m holed up in kicking and screaming. Most people are not like that. I’m lucky to have three of you,” he admitted in the kind of moment of uncharacteristic vulnerability and clarity that only comes when you’re with someone you really trust.

Della snorted and reached across the table to shove Gyro gently. “Shut your self-depricating hole, Gyro Gearloose. Trust me, I wouldn’t put up with you if I didn’t want to.”

Gyro smirked, a small smile chasing away the dark storm clouds that covered his face. “I know, Dels.”

“Good.” Della replied self-assuredly. “I love Dickie and Daisy, and I love that they love you, but they’re not local. You need more friends, Gyro.”

“Maybe,” Gyro hummed softly, the closest he would ever come to admitting it. “But it’s even harder to get along with coworkers, and the chances of my subordinate being someone who actually wants to be friends with me is abysmal.”

Della shrugged. “Sometimes you learn to like each other. Like me ‘n Donnie! We drive each other crazy, but we have each other’s backs when it matters, and we’re always there for each other.”

Gyro snorted. “This hypothetical person and I will be coworkers, Dels, not siblings. That’s different. Besides, you and Donald love each other too much to be healthy.”

“Yeah, but Donnie and Uncle Scrooge and I are a little like coworkers, aren’t we? Adventuring is our job, and it’s very stressful at times,” Della said.

Gyro shook his head. “Dels, honestly, you have to get a job at some point. Mr. McDuck won’t let you leech off of him for much longer now, and you have no experience. It’s really not the same.”

Della shrugged. “At some point. I know Uncle Scrooge is biting at the bit, especially after Donnie joined the Navy, but I don’t want the responsibilities and schedules of work to tie me down and take me away from adventuring, you know? It’s the same reason I didn’t go off to college.”

“I still think you should have,” Gyro replied, smiling wryly. “You’re bright and you’d flourish being able to study what you choose.”

“I learn a lot adventuring,” Della replied smugly, stubborn as always. “I can speak seven languages fluently, you know!”

“Even if most of them are dead, or belong to otherworldly beings from alternate dimensions,” Gyro pointed out.

Della sighed contentedly and shook her head. “Whatever. What’s done is done, and I’ll get a job someday. But just think about it, Gyro, all right?” She locked gazes with Gyro pleadingly.

Gyro sighed in defeat. “Fine. I will give it some thought. But don’t get your hopes up, all right?”

Della smirked. “Whatever you say.”

Gyro put his head in his hands, roughly shoving aside his expensive coffee. (He was lucky it didn’t crash and burn, like most of his inventions.)

She’s not gonna win this one, Gyro aggressively promised himself. I can’t subject anyone else to my bullshit.

(The only reason he assented and allowed an intern on, in the future, was because Scrooge all but ordered it. He saw firsthand the way having positive people around improves lives and wanted that for Gyro too, especially with Della gone and Donald barely speaking to him. And if Mr. McDuck’s not-so-subtle hints and gentle persuasion-turned direct orders gave Gyro crystal-clear flashbacks to Della’s not-so-gentle prodding, and if he cried that night after his boss left, well, no one would be anyone the wiser.)

(He got quite lucky with Fenton and Manny, though. Some of that was the Board's thorough vetting process, but some of it was Scrooge himself intervening, because he wanted Gyro to make a friend as badly as Della had.)

August 15 I 7:26 pm

Della Duck: all right

Della Duck: I talked to Fenton again

Della Duck: i’m sorry for bothering you

Della Duck: it hurts to not talk to you but I’m gonna give you your space

Della Duck: I’m here whenever you’re ready

Della Duck: but please be ready soon Gyro i’m impatient

I know you are, Gyro nearly whispered as he read the texts. It felt like a finality, a surrender. But that couldn’t be right, because Della Duck never gave up.

How could he and his stupid, stupid inability to communicate his feelings and face his irrational fears be the one thing that forced Della Duck to admit defeat?

(read 7:58 pm)

The McDuck Annual Holiday Party was in full swing when Gyro arrived quietly. Launchpad had offered to drive him with Fenton, Manny, and Scrooge when they left a couple of hours ago, but Gyro had stayed to put the finishing touches on his current project, lest he lose his motivation.

That was the only reason. Not because Della would be there, and he might be forced to talk to her. No, sir.

Gyro clenched his fists so tight his knuckles turned white in the pockets of his vest. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t fooling himself, and he certainly wasn’t fooling his friends family coworkers. Every single one of them, even Mr. McDuck (now that was painful) had tossed him a look that ranged from disappointed to knowing to pitying as they left for the party. It made Gyro want to scream in rage and slam his fists against the wall until they were bruised and bloody. But even he knew that was unacceptable party behavior. (Mrs. Beakley had humiliatingly taken him aside for a quick rundown on which of his usual behaviors were not applicable at company parties.)

Steeling himself for a night of faux cheer and passive-aggressive conversations, Gyro quietly opened the door and slipped inside. Skirting on the outskirts of the party, he scanned the room desperately for allies to swarm to and enemies to avoid.

He spotted Fenton and Launchpad first, amicably chatting up the legendary Greek hero Storkules and his sister, the equally inexplicable and ethereal goddess Selene. (A mystery to unpack at a later date.) Beside them was the gruff Moonlander that Della seemed to love.

Gyro set his jaw. He could handle chatty immortals and aggressive aliens. At least they probably wouldn’t have a personal vendetta against him because of a malfunctioning invention or a poorly placed comment. He waded determinedly through the sluggish crowd, surprisingly stopped a couple times by friendly faces. (Boyd’s hug of greeting lasted almost three minutes, and that didn’t even account for the rest of the overzealously affectionate kids.)

Looking back, he’s lucky his the kids stalled him, because when he finally emerged from Webby’s hug, his eyes locked on his own personal horror story.

Della.

This was the first time Gyro had actually seen her since she’d come back from the moon. Her hair was longer, if only slightly, and her metal leg gleamed in the light from the chandeliers above. (His fingers itched to get his hands on it and upgrade it, toy with it, make it into a personal project, but he adamantly refused himself.)

Alongside the physical differences, Gyro noticed some changes to her demeanor as well. She seemed more… weathered, and tired, despite the ever-present spark of energy she seemed to radiate and her unwavering grin. It was cliché, and Dr. Gyro Gearloose hated clichés with a passion, but she had an almost haunted look in her eyes, contrasting her radiating cheery energy.

She was different, and he was different. So much time had passed. It seemed almost impossible that the duck in front of him was the same duck that Gyro had shared coffee and secrets with almost daily ten years ago.

And yet he yearned to return to their easy friendship. Not for the first time, Gyro wished desperately to go back in time a decade and stop the Spear of Selene from ever happening.

Della slipped between Penumbra and Selene, glowing in the way only an extrovert in social situations can. By way of greeting, she hugged everyone, even Fenton (!!!). She settled at last, hanging off Penumbra’s shoulder with Selene’s arm around her and Launchpad’s jacket around her shoulders (how she had acquired that, Gyro had no idea).

Unfortunately for Gyro, from her new position, she had a perfect view of him, stuck with only a single sparse group between them. Her eyes strayed to lock onto him and he froze, panic creeping in a mile a minute.For a moment neither moved, staring at each other.

She hadn’t texted him since August, true to her word, albeit how much it hurt for both of them. She had come to the lab a couple times, to pick up Fenton and/or Manny for coffee or to pick up or drop off Huey, Webby, or Boyd. But Gyro had always hid like the coward he was, terrified to face his best friend. The last time they’d talked was the day before Della took off in the Spear of Selene, ten years and eight months ago.

At last, after four months, and nine months of radio silence from his end, here she was, almost close enough to touch.

Then Gyro’s fight-or-flight instinct kicked in and he turned tail and ran, panic clouding his vision and his judgement. He shoved one of the Sabrewing husbands roughly aside (Scrooge would undoubtedly make him apologize for that later) in his frantic quest to escape all the raw emotions, of hurt and guilt and self-hatred, that sprung up all of a sudden.

His eyes locked on a door and he wrenched it open before slamming it shut. He leaned hard against the door, hands clenched around the handle, breathing hard.

Only once the panic began creeping away and his breathing slowed did Gyro finally process his surroundings. He was in a small broom closet, filled to the brim with glittery party supplies Mrs. Beakley had probably denied Webby. (She would probably find a way to sneak them into the party sometime later.)

And perched precariously on top of a box labeled “glitter fireworks” was a woman Gyro had met once, in the Old West, two hundred years ago.

Goldie O’Gilt sized him up, panicked and ruffled, and apparently decided he was no threat. She slid gracefully down from the boxes. “What brings you here, to the closet of forgotten and abandoned party supplies? Girl troubles?”

Gyro wanted to laugh, because technically, she was right. “I’m gay,” he replied, giving her his best deadpan stare. It was lacking.

She assessed him, trying hard not to smile, before bursting out laughing. Gyro barely resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. “People problems, whatever. Please. You can’t fool me, hun.”

Gyro crossed his arms testily. “Why are you here? Away with you.”

Goldie grinned smugly, pretending to examine her nails. “Oh, nothing special. Just some extra fun for Scroogey later. May or may not involve glitter fireworks. You?”

Gyro snorted, without any real humor behind it, and rolled his eyes. “Great. Well, I have better things to do than watch you drive Mr. McDuck up the wall. See ya.”

“This is about Scroogey’s rediscovered niece, isn’t it?” Goldie called after him, as if as an afterthought.

Gyro froze, his fingers curled around the doorknob. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t, really,” Goldie hummed, faking disinterest. “But spare an old woman some juicy gossip, would ya? ‘Sides, I’m a professional conwoman. I see all the angles, and yours is in plain sight.”

Gyro scowled and shifted so he could see Goldie’s face again. She was smirking, small but triumphant, which did nothing to quell Gyro’s steadily growing mix between annoyance and panic. “And I suppose this has nothing to do with ‘Aunt Goldie,’ would it?”

Goldie shrugged nonchalantly, but the smile on her beak shifted into a small pout of annoyance. “I’ll do you a favor and be honest with you. Cherish this moment; it won’t happen again.”

She sighed and leaned more heavily against the precariously stacked boxes. “I may have missed Della and her adventurous, rambunctious spirit over the years,” she confessed, suddenly looking a good deal more like the age-old tired adventurer she was. “It hurts to see that spirit quenched, especially when I just got her back. She hasn’t even frustratingly tagged along to one of Scroogey and I’s not-so-solo adventures! And… I care about her. She’s almost my niece.”

Gyro frowned, stunned at Goldie’s clarity. “...Oh.”

Goldie straightened up and whipped out a shiny knife from the folds of her dress. “But tell anyone, especially Della or Scrooge, and they’ll never know what happened to ya,” she warned, wagging the knife in the direction of Gyro’s face.

He pressed himself against the door while maintaining his scowl, despite the fact that it was too far away to hurt him. He knew what she could do if she put her mind to it. “I won’t.”

Goldie slipped the knife back into the folds of her dress, where it seemed to magically disappear from her hand. “Good. Now go get my niece’s spirit back,” she instructed strictly, shoving Gyro not-so-subtly towards the door.

He wrenched it open and slipped surreptitiously outside, glancing around the party. The crowds seemed to have thinned a little.

Gyro spotted Della easily. She, Donald, and Mrs. Beakley were gently corralling the gaggle of children upstairs - it was quite late, after all. Gyro started to step towards her, then hesitated.

He chickened out and sprinted unsteadily outside instead, taking in big mouthfuls of the refreshingly cold December air.

The chill set in after a few moments and he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering, and despairingly started the long trek away from the mansion.

His phone was buzzing with worried texts from his friends (and Della, no doubt), but Gyro set his jaw and walked on, stubbornly ignoring their annoyingly righteous concern. No use telling everyone he lost his nerve again, just like every time Della texted.

Gyro gritted his teeth and pulled the collar of his jacket over the lower half of his face as protection against the biting winds. The physical pain lessened, but the icy feeling in his gut did not. He balled his hands into fists, as if to physically punch his overwhelming guilt and regret away.

I’m a bad friend.

Early April was always a little tough for Gyro, with the anniversary of the destruction he inadvertently sowed in Tokyolk. It got better with time, but the early years were always a little rough.

(And after that he always had another grief-filled and regretful anniversary to observe in April, anyway.)

He was pushing through it, though, by throwing himself into his work. This year was especially easy. The Spear of Selene was almost done, and would probably be finished just before the eggs’ hatching.

The last time he talked to Della was when he was taking a quick, rare break the day before what would be the second-worst day of Gyro’s life. (Tokyolk took first, if only narrowly.) He had gone off on a quest in search of coffee - he was at the launch lot, and he’d unfortunately been banned from the closest coffee shop. (It was their fault anyway - what kind of coffee shop didn’t want an automatic coffee bean stocker? Even if it tried to stock customers when there were no beans left? Really, they shouldn’t have run out of beans. And his price of free coffee for life was so reasonable and small, really, when he usually frequented the one closer to the lab. Their loss.)

“Gyro!” Della sprinted up to him, face flushed from running in the chilly winds and early spring air. She held out a coffee from the aforementioned shop to him with a grin, prompting his frustrated rant, but Della just let him prattle on with a goofy grin gracing her face.

“What’s going on?” Gyro finally demanded, after watching Della beam ardently at his violent threats and calls for justice and revenge towards the coffee shop. “Your smile is… sillier than usual. Which is saying something.”

Della waved him off, his insult breezing past her. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see!!”

Gyro raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Is it a good surprise?”

Della beamed triumphantly back at him. “Definitely.”

Gyro frowned dubiously, but he knew Della well. For all her recklessness, when she was this sure about something, her judgement was usually worth listening to.

(Later, he’d wish he hadn’t listened to her, and trusted his own gut, for once.)

He shrugged. “I highly doubt it’s as good as you think it is,” he replied haughtily, prompting carefree laughter from Della.

“It definitely is. Just you wait.” She reached out with her free hand and booped him on the beak, causing him to reel back, away from her. “I can make an educated guess that you’ll love it.”

Gyro rolled his eyes at her rudimentary science terminology, causing her to giggle. “If it’s another movie night with Fethry, I’ll pass.”

“Better than that,” Della promised, her smug grin turning downright devious. It didn’t faze Gyro in the slightest.

He shrugged carelessly. “With you, that could either mean better or worse. Otherwise known as pure, unadulterated torture for me.”

Della laughed, but her smile softened into something more vulnerable and emotional, no longer masked by a carefree and reckless demeanor. “I’m telling you, Gyro. You’ll love it. Come on, when have I ever been wrong?’’

Gyro barked a laugh. “Do you really want me to answer that? Because I have a full comprehensive list at the top of my head, and that only covers the basics.”

“Hating black licorice doesn’t count,” Della protested. “It tastes worse than every iteration of Hell, and I’ve been to every iteration of Hell!”

Gyro raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Did you taste every iteration of Hell?”

Della rolled her eyes playfully. “Whatever. Just trust me on this one, will you?” she asked, hitting him with that almost vulnerable expression again.

Gyro huffed. “Fine.” He stuck a finger pompously in the air. “But I reserve the right to pass judgement when I see it.”

Della sighed without any real weight behind it. “Fine, whatever you want. But trust me, you’ll be blown away by the amazingness of this surprise!!!”

“We’ll see about that,” Gyro replied, smirking. “Now, away with you!! I have a highly important project to finish - which is unanimously more important than whatever surprise you have cooked up - and I simply cannot afford any distractions!!”

Della snorted knowingly. “Whatever. See you tomorrow at my amazing surprise! And you’re welcome for the coffee, Mr. Banned-From-Coffee-Shops!!”

Gyro shook his head fondly and made his way down the hill back to the lot. The Spear of Selene loomed in front of him, shining in the weak midday sun. It seemed frozen, waiting, on edge.

“Soon,” Gyro promised to no one in particular. He climbed inside to make some last-minute tweaks to the nuanced controls. “You’ll be in the air by May at the latest,” he promised, patting the cold metal of the rocketship. “Just let me make sure this is perfect. So nothing could ever go wrong.”

Jan 3, 2020 I 5:47 am

Donald Duck: hey asshole

Donald Duck: fyi Della’s really upset

Donald Duck: she really missed her friends ya know?

Donald Duck: Look, Gyro

Donald Duck: I know how this feels

Donald Duck: I know you’re scared

Donald Duck: but dude you face scarier stuff every day when your inventions go evil

Donald Duck: if you can face Lil’ Bulb turning evil not once but twice and still call him your son I think you can face your best friend

Donald Duck: and i know I said some shitty things to you the day we lost her and I’m sorry, that was uncalled for

Donald Duck: I was upset, as were you

Donald Duck: I forgive you if that’s not clear

Donald Duck: i forgave you a long time ago

Donald Duck: Della has too

Donald Duck: she never blamed you

Donald Duck: except maybe for the flavor of Oxy-Chew. But that saved her life, Gyro!

Donald Duck: I know I said your invention killed her, but your invention also saved her, and after she fixed it your invention brought her home

Donald Duck: now she’s back, but you’re losing her again

Gyro stumbling blearily awake, fumbling for his glasses, tired and disoriented, was nothing outside of the norm. He was a secluded, inane inventor with few friends, little social interaction, and no sleep schedule. Not to mention the plethora of projects piled on his desk vying for his attention, and the ever-present mug of coffee in his hand. (At the moment, there was a half-empty one on his desk, placed precariously on top of some blueprints.)

But his latest cup of coffee’s predicament was the least of Gyro’s worries at the moment. Because his phone, charging on his bedside, was blowing up. And that was decidedly not normal.

Gyro, at this point in time, didn’t have social media yet. (Fenton, Louie, and Dewey didn’t exist in his life yet, and so they had not had a chance to plot and execute an intervention.) Sometimes his phone blew up from the group chat with Daisy and Dickie, or the group chat with Della, Daisy, and Dickie, or just Della when she got excited. Or Fethry, once in a while, but Gyro was certain he’d blocked Fethry’s number this time.

Gyro clumsily put on his glasses and pulled himself up into a sitting position, still half-asleep. He scrolled through his notifications, frowning.

Mostly missed calls from Donald and Scrooge, a couple confused text notifications from Gladstone, two missed calls from the Board (that couldn’t be good), and one from Roxanne Featherly, a trainee journalist under Angus Fangus who had taken an unfortunate liking to calling him whenever one of his inventions went haywire.

Panic began to stir in Gyro’s gut.

The weirdest part, though, was that most of the notifications had not come from Della. She was by far his most ardent caller, and she had called, a couple times, but they were all over an hour ago. They were all buried by the rest of his missed calls.

Odd. Very odd.

Gyro tried calling Della first, to soften the blow of whatever was happening. Della wouldn’t sugarcoat the problem. She knew better. But there was something about her contagious enthusiasm and optimism, as well as her face-it-head-on attitude, that made whatever issue was at hand seem less daunting.

But his call went to voicemail.

Gyro shook his head, confused and more than a little scared at this point. Della almost never refused his calls, even if she was on an adventure (as long as she had cell service). It annoyed Donald to no avail, but Gyro was grateful for it - he didn’t reach out for social interaction with no reason.

But now? It only scared Gyro.

He frowned, contemplating, and called Donald next. Scrooge was more likely to call unprompted than Donald, and he didn’t want to deal with the Buzzards or Featherly yet, so Donald it was.

He picked up on the third ring.“Oh, so now he picks up!! When he can’t be of any help!! What’s the big idea, Doctor?!”

Gyro scowled, annoyance beginning to mix with the terror in his gut. “For your information, I just woke up. Now, what is going on?! Della won’t answer my calls and I have an ungodly amount of notifications at three AM. Seriously, people.”

“You want to know what is going on?!” Donald screamed, his voice and temper steadily rising. Gyro flinched at the volume, but kept the phone pressed close to his ear out of half morbid curiosity and half unwanted worry. “I’ll tell you what’s going on!!! Scrooge just killed Della!! And he used your stupid, untrustworthy invention to do it!!!”

Gyro nearly dropped the phone.“...Killed?” he nearly whispered. “How? The Spear of Selene isn’t ready yet and-”

“She took it!!” Donald screeched. “She took that good-for-nothing rocket and flew straight into a cosmic storm!”

“She wasn’t supposed to!” Gyro spluttered, numb. “She wasn’t even supposed to know about it yet!”

“Well, she did!” Donald spat darkly. “And now she’s gone. She left her boys orphaned. What were you thinking, making her that rocket?!”

“It was Mr. McDuck’s idea,” Gyro whispered numbly, automatically. “He- I- We never thought-”

“Scrooge,” Donald growled, and if Gyro knew him well enough he was dragging a frustrated hand down his face. “Of course. He’s too reckless and careless. He killed my sister.”

Gyro rubbed at his eyes under his glasses, unable to think of a coherent response. “I- I don’t think-”

“That’s right, you don’t think,” Donald snarled. “None of you do. And now my sister is dead, thanks to Scrooge. And you. Lose my number, Gyro. You won’t see me again.”

Click.

Gyro stared numbly at the floor, his phone still pressed against his ear, as the dial tone played. Finally, he slowly lowered it to his side and dropped it on the bed next to him before taking off his glasses and dropping his head into his hands.

Then, finally, he cried.

Della Duck. Dead. His best friend. Dead.

It was impossible, improbable. Della Duck was a famed adventurer barely two decades old. She breathed life. She had faced perils and terrors far worse than a cosmic storm, sustained injuries far worse, and bounced back.

Dead.

Because of Gyro’s invention. Maybe if he had worked a little harder, been a little more meticulous, he could have saved her.

He had failed again, gambled and lost with precious lives again, caused death and destruction again. It was Tokyolk all over again, and this time, the lost stakes were even more personal.

Gyro grabbed his phone suddenly, shakingly off the bed and pulled up Della’s contact. Her face beamed back at him, so full of life it seemed to burst from the tiny circle on his cracked phone screen.

He called her again, listening to it ring with baited breath even though he already knew the outcome.

“Hey, this is Della Duck, adventurer extraordinaire! I’m probably trekking through the Amazon or fighting a demon monarch in another dimension right now. Catch ya later!”

Gyro hung up before she could finish her last syllable and sobbed.

February 28 I 2:26 pm

Della Duck: fyi I’m picking Huey up today instead of Launchpad since he has a sleepover with his friend Jason today

Della Duck: you know

Della Duck: in case you wanna hide from me again

Della Duck: btw do you care if I snag that magnifying glass that shrinks people in like a month? We’re gonna go to Miniapolis soon

Della Duck: i mean i’m gonna take it anyway but figured you might want a heads up

March 14 I 5:18 pm

Gyro Gearloose: go ahead

Della Duck: GYRO!!!!

Della Duck: oh sorry

Della Duck: look I’m really excited but I also don’t wanna come on too strong

Gyro Gearloose: you’re fine

Della Duck: :D

Gyro Gearloose: it’s my fault I was being a coward

Gyro Gearloose: i couldn’t face my emotions and that was shitty of me

Della Duck: Gyro i took off in a rocket at midnight without telling anyone and left my kids without a mother for a decade

Della Duck: i win for stupid shitty actions here

Gyro Gearloose: it’s not a contest

Gyro Gearloose: we’re both shitty and stupid let’s leave it at that

Della Duck: yeah ur right

Gyro Gearloose: but dels

Gyro Gearloose: I’m sorry

Gyro Gearloose: it’s been almost a year and i fucking ignored you

Gyro Gearloose: i had the chance to get you back and i didn’t take it

Della Duck: hey

Della Duck: it’s okay

Della Duck: i know this is all a lot

Della Duck: i’m here now and that’s what matters

Gyro Gearloose: della i’m so glad

Della Duck: hey Huey is coming to the lab today

Della Duck: what if I come to pick him up and then you and I go out and catch up?

Della Duck: get expensive coffee on Uncle Scrooge’s dime just like old times?

Gyro Gearloose: fuck yeah

Gyro Gearloose: I’ve missed our expensive shitty coffee and gossip

Gyro Gearloose: I have SO much shit to talk about Dr. Akita

Gyro Gearloose: god

Gyro Gearloose: I hate him now

Della Duck: oh man

Della Duck: Huey told me a bit about Tokyolk but I want to hear all about it for you

Della Duck: and Boyd!!! Omg I can’t believe you’re a father

Della Duck: he’s so sweet

Gyro Gearloose: I don’t know if I’d call myself a father he has the Drakes

Della Duck: but you want to be don’t you?

Gyro Gearloose: ...yeah

Gyro Gearloose: but i’d be a shitty parent you know that

Della Duck: actually I don’t think so

Della Duck: i’m a shitty parent and I’m doing fine

Gyro Gearloose: what a surprise

Della Duck: wow thanks for the vote of confidence

Della Duck: but Beakley Donald and Scrooge are helping me

Della Duck: we’ll help you

Della Duck: join the shitty parents club!!

Gyro Gearloose: haha all right

Della Duck: also

Della Duck: i want to hear all about fenton

Gyro Gearloose: then I want to hear all about Penumbra

Gyro Gearloose: you’re not the only one who can play the love interest card

Della Duck: joke’s on you I WANT to talk about penny

Della Duck: anyway i’m leaving now

Della Duck: see you soon!!

Gyro Gearloose: i can’t wait to see you and your ugly 10-year-old clothes

Gyro Gearloose: seriously you’re wearing almost the exact same outfit

Della Duck: uh HELLO you have no right to shit on the way I dress look at yourself

Della Duck: you dress like a very old gay man

Della Duck: i mean that vest?? really?

Gyro Gearloose: at least i’m not old

Della Duck: touché

Della Duck: LP is driving so i’m almost there see you in a sec

Della Duck: and i’ll probably grab that magnifying glass now

Gyro Gearloose: that’s fine

Gyro Gearloose: i missed you

Della Duck: aw you old sap

Della Duck: never thought i’d hear you say anything like that tbh you’ve gone soft

Gyro Gearloose: I realized recently that my greatest mistakes were not as black-and-white as they seemed

Gyro Gearloose: and if Boyd can forgive me for unknowingly letting Akita turn him into a weapon of mass destruction and for me ignoring him for years and belittling him throughout this trip

Gyro Gearloose: and if I can face both brainwashed 2BO and Akita and win with the “power of love” or whatever than maybe I can talk to you

Della Duck: damn

Della Duck: I have SO many questions about Tokyolk

Della Duck: but i can hold onto them for a minute

The lab doors dinged open, but Della was sprinting out of them before they were fully open. The rest of Team Science watched warily as Della rushed towards Gyro, beaming and laughing, joy seeming to spill out of her. They expected him to hide, or push her away. but to their happy surprise, Gyro met her halfway and wrapped her in a hug.

Or, Della nearly crashed into him and squeezed him so tight he couldn’t breathe, prompting some annoyance, but it was crushed under the sheer joy and emotions of seeing his estranged best friend after eleven years.

Gyro laughed shakily, holding back tears, until he realized Della was crying too. She got snot on his work shirt, but he didn’t care.

They held each other for quite a while, until Della finally pulled back, wiped her eyes, and socked Gyro in the shoulder. “Don’t ever leave me hanging like that again, you hear?! I will hunt you down! I’ll give you your space but I’ll hunt you down! I won’t let this happen again!”

Gyro smiled and wiped away his own tears. “Yes, ma’am. Now, coffee?”

Della beamed. “The expensive kind. You got it.”

“It’s about time,” Manny tapped grumpily in the background, with Huey, Fenton, and Lil’ Bulb adding their agreement, but Della and Gyro ignored them as they flounced out of the lab.They had eleven years of friendship and gossip to catch up on, after all.

{it’s not too late, it was

never too late}

woohoo this is a wild ride! i didn’t intend for it to be this long but it just got away from me. Della and Gyro having a friendship, especially before the spear of selene, is one of my favorite headcanons. I think Della would basically grab Gyro and force him to be friends with her and to hang out with her haha.

I have a hard time writing Gyro as mean as he is in canon because I’m a sensitive sweet bean who isn’t creative or socially adept enough to come up with good insults (yet, hopefully). but i’m getting better! i hope this read as somewhat in character. same with Goldie, i’ve been trying to figure out how to write her for two years now sdfghgfds. I think I got Della’s character somewhat down though!

soft Gyro is more of an interpretation (albeit supported by canon) than canon fact but I LOVE it and i’m writing four (counting this) fics based off of it so get ready for that

the title and song lyrics are from People Need a Melody by The Head and the Heart. That song is really special to me because it was my closing song for camp last year (we would sing a song special for each unit each night before bed). I didn’t plan to use this song from the start (the working title was “DR. GYRO GEARLOOSE GET OFF UR ASS AND ANSWER UR PHONE -Della”) - I was listening to it one night, nostalgic for camp, while writing this fic and I realized the lyrics fit!

(also I was on a call for colorguard while I was writing this author’s note and my instructor said “I hear a lot of typing” lol)

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #gyro gearloose #della duck #ducktales fanfiction #wavey writes #my fanfic #donald duck #fenton crackshell-cabrera

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nitewrighter · 5 years ago

Text

Baptember Prompt: Talon HQ

“Evaluation”

-----

Baptiste’s eyes flicked around the luxurious office with wariness, taking in the smoke-damaged Kandinsky on the wall and the small Yoruba sculpture on a table in front of it--both likely salvage from the Omnic Crisis---the placement made it seem like the painting was a dream of the sculpture, a chaotic but appealing whirl of triangles, circles, and straight and curving lines. Maybe Baptiste was looking at the wall behind the desk because of who was sitting at the desk.

“Hm,” Doomfist was dressed in a lightweight olive blazer and white dress shirt. An orange and yellow aso oke scarf was tied at his neck in a casual ascot style. It looked like he had walked right out of a fashion magazine for a spread for ‘Fun and breezy executive casual looks,’ but Baptiste felt awkward in the gray cargo pants and fitted, high-necked black shirt of the Talon ground forces ‘casual’ uniform in the chair across from him.

“Is... there a reason you wished to see me, sir?” said Baptiste and Doomfist’s eyes flicked up to him from the tablet.

“I was just running over some testimonials again,” said Doomfist, setting the tablet down on his desk.

“Testimonials?” said Baptiste.

Doomfist interlaced the fingers of his massive hands in front of him on the desk and gave Baptiste a single nod, “They’re very impressive.”

“...thank you sir,” Baptiste chuckled a little, “I... wasn’t under the impression that I popped up on your radar.”

A warm chuckle rumbled in Doomfist’s chest. “Yes, given the way this world has treated you, I can understand how you expect people to disregard you. To underestimate you. But you have my word that I will show no such ignorance. You see, I care about this organization,” Doomfist’s smile was so dazzlingly white, that it nearly distracted from that discerning gleam in his eyes. Baptiste felt himself being read, anticipated even, “I care about its future,” said Doomfist, “And yours.”

“...my future?” said Baptiste, hesitantly.

“You see, Lieutenant Augustin, much of the world runs on algorithms. These algorithms can define your life, from where you’re born, to what job you might get, to whether you qualify for medical care, to whether you qualify for a job.”

“I’m aware,”said Baptiste. He could count on both hands how many times Sombra had launched into her “cradle-to-the-grave algorithm” rant with him.

“I’m not a particular fan of that,” said Doomfist, that slightly-faded smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some luddite or ‘human supremacy’ fiend--I recognize Omnics as a vital part of the populace,” he demonstrably held up his own prosthetic arm, “And I recognize technology’s place with humanity, but we had a chance to break free of these oppressive algorithms after the Crisis and instead... Overwatch simply let us slip back to a system that punches down. We prized normalcy over humanity. Over evolution.” He rested his elbow on his desk and his chin on his knuckles “But anyway, in Talon’s early days, in the days of my predecessor Akinjide Adeyemi, Talon more or less mimicked this structure, and when I replaced him--”

Killed him, thought Baptiste.

“I thought we needed to take a more... personal approach when it came to the careers of our more outstanding recruits.”

Baptiste blinked a few times. “...Outstanding?” he said.

“It’s not often someone joins our ranks having invented their own weapon,” said Doomfist.

“The biotic launcher isn’t 100% a weapon---” Baptiste started.

“I’m aware,” Doomfist returned, holding up his tablet, “Again, testimonials. Now, my question is, with your talents, why not apply for Talon’s engineering or R&D departments?”

“...I don’t have a formal education in the sciences,” said Baptiste, “And my medical education is largely limited to my Caribbean Coalition training. I read, certainly, and I tinker, but... that’s not the same.”

Doomfist leaned forward slightly. “I can assure you, you are more than qualified, and Talon would be happy to help fill in any gaps for you,” he said, smiling, “Look at Moira O’Deorain! Now that she’s not constrained by the formalities of academia, she is doing some of her best work with us. I would love to see what you create with the right resources made available to you.”

Baptiste had to suppress a shudder at the direct comparison between himself and Moira. He had seen her strolling around the facility, her little cult of labtechs close at her heels. Across the desk, Doomfist’s eyes were making Baptiste feel like every microscopic facial twitch of his was being picked apart and analyzed. But it didn’t have the cold distance of Moira’s glare---it felt closer, hotter, consuming rather than dissecting.

“You... want me to be a labtech,” said Baptiste hesitantly.

“Hardly,” Doomfist shook his head, “You see, O’Deorain works mostly in theory, you, however, are able to quickly take available technology and find its immediate application. You could be the perfect bridge between our R&D department and our combat division.”

You could make it faster and easier to weaponize O’Deorain’s ideas, thought Baptiste. He could feel his own fingers digging into his leg through his fatigues with the amount of control it took to keep his expression neutral.

“I’m,” Baptiste cleared his throat, “I’m more of a ‘boots on the ground’ guy.”

Doomfist gave him a studying look.

“You can do a lot better than pure mercenary work, Lieutenant Augustin,” said Doomfist, “And the benefits would be much higher, with much less risk to your person. It wouldn’t even be more demanding, time-wise, than your current schedule. You wouldn’t be as subject to the whims of Talon’s ‘boots on the ground’ missions. More freedom to conduct your own business.”

More money. Less travel. He could visit the clinic back in Port-Au-Paix more often. He could buy better equipment for the clinic. He could invent better equipment for the clinic. But then how much more would Talon know about it? How much more would Doomfist or Moira know about it? How much did they know already?

“I’ll...” Baptiste’s voice trailed off, “Need time to think about it.”

“Of course,” said Doomfist, leaning back in his seat easily, “Take all the time you need... to an extent. Remember: Talon believes in a world where men are not bound by their fear. Hesitate too long, and you might just get left behind. If you ever need to discuss your future, you know where to find me. Of course, we’ll be keeping an eye on you in the meantime,” He picked up his tablet. “That’s all for now. As you were.”

“Sir,” said Baptiste pushing up from the chair, saluting, and walking briskly out of the room.

He walked out of the office and made it a ways down the hall. An omnic assistant opened the elevator for him and he stepped in. As soon as the elevator doors closed on him, he slumped into a corner, bracing his hand against one of the wall rails of the elevator as he tried to get control of his breath. The elevator dinged as it reached the below-ground levels devoted to Talon’s armories and training facilities, and he still had his other hand clamped on his chest as the door opened to reveal Sombra and Mauga standing there, hunched around a cupcake filched from the mess hall. Sombra was sporting her heavily modified ‘tech specialist’ armor, her blood red pixie cut styled into a pompadour that day. Mauga, like Baptiste, was in the fitted black shirt and gray cargo pants of Talon’s casual fatigues, his wild mane of black hair with a white lightning streak tied half up in a white streaked bun with the rest of it cascading over his shoulders.

“Hey hey! There’s our favorite engineer!” said Mauga, clapping his hands.

“How’d it go?” said Sombra.

“How did what--” Baptiste started.

“The big boss calling you in!” said Mauga, “I mean, come on, you’ve been up for a promotion for weeks.” He clicked his tongue, “Gotta admit: I’m gonna miss you while you’re in the nerd squad.”

“Oh--I’m not... I didn’t...” Baptiste’s words didn’t feel like they were coming from him so much as he was trying to pluck them out of the air as they materialized.

“...didn’t what?” said Sombra, and a sharpness suddenly overtook her features, “You didn’t take it?!”

“I said I’d think about it!” Baptiste fumbled.

“Aw, is it ‘cuz you’d miss me?” said Mauga but both Sombra and Baptiste shot him ‘come on,’ looks.

“Look, it was just... a lot, okay? He--Doomfist--is a lot,” said Baptiste, “I didn’t slam the door on it! It’s just... a big change!”

“‘Big change’ he says!” said Mauga with a laugh, “Like we aren’t being uprooted every couple of weeks to fly off who-knows-where!” But Sombra apparently read Baptiste’s expression and elbowed Mauga. “What?” said Mauga, before looking at Baptiste. Those sharp bright eyes gave Baptiste a brief scan. It didn’t give Baptiste the same apprehension that Doomfist’s look gave him, he had spent too long fighting alongside Mauga for that. He knew him too well for that. But Mauga seemed to concede to Baptiste’s apparently shell-shocked expression and sighed. “Eh, cold feet,” he said with a dismissive hand wave, “Happens to everyone.”

“I guess this is a consolation cupcake now,” said Sombra, pushing the red velvet cupcake towards him.

“Yeah... and... he said they’ll be keeping an eye on me?” said Baptiste, taking the cupcake from her.

The look Sombra gave him then had a flash of warning to it. “I guess that’s still good... just remember: they remember the shots you don’t take just as much as the shots you do.”

“And you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take! That’s on my quote-a-day calendar,” said Mauga, trying to find the tone of conversation that Baptiste and Sombra were on, or at least trying to segue them hard back to his unstoppably jovial mood.

Baptiste picked one of the red sprinkles off of the cream cheese frosting of his cupcake, “I’ll uh... keep that in mind.”

Sombra and Mauga exchanged glances.

“Tell you what,” said Mauga, “How about we all change into civvies, grab a couple drinks, and talk about it.”

“...or we could change into civvies, grab a couple drinks and not talk about it,” said Sombra, giving Baptiste a wry smile.

“...Let’s get the first two parts out of the way and figure out the third part later,” said Baptiste with a huff.

“There, y’see? Thinks on his feet, this guy,” said Mauga, “Real promotion material--oof--” Sombra elbowed Mauga again.

“Meet back at the usual spot in 30?” said Baptiste.

Sombra and Mauga both gave him a nod before they headed off for the lockers, leaving Baptiste in the hallway with his lonely little cupcake. He picked off the wrapping from the side of the cupcake, thought of Doomfist’s smile, of that brief flash of everything he could have done to help the clinic if he had just taken up the offer, and he wondered how a job where everyone was telling you you were doing so well could make you feel so wrong.

#baptiste #doomfist #mauga #sombra #overwatch #Baptember2020

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