synxis

[synxis]

Send me 📏 (ruler) + your muses height and I'll compare them to mine!

using this site

[synxis]

Anonymous asked: ⚡️ for Francis: What are your opinions on Sonic?

         ( ... )          "I suppose I can't overlook the good he's done —— and he has done good. Without him, we'd live in a world entirely different to what we know now. We may not even have a home at all."

         "That being said, I catch myself feeling resentments that I know are unfair. Our city has seen its fair share of turmoil, destruction, death. He can't do everything. He can't be here with the people while also facing threats that rain from above. The damage caused, the lives lost, the collateral we all have to live with. We always have to pick up the pieces that were shattered."

         Wringing of his hands, a distant look. "—— I often wonder if he ever thinks about what he's left behind." 

[synxis]

SEND “⚡️” AND A QUESTION AND MY MUSE WILL BE FORCED TO ANSWER HONESTLY

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         Fang snorts at her grimace, waving his hand nonchalantly. "Yeah, whatever. Ain't my business to know yours. As long as I get first pick, I don't care what you do." How long this deal would go on for depended on how precious the intel was -- but those were details they could iron out later.

         "See? I can be play nice when I fuckin' feel like it. Treat me right, and I treat you." His good eye narrows at her. "But don't get any ideas and go runnin' off without paying what's owed, cause guaran-fuckin-tee all that charity will dry up real quick. Got it?"

         And the deal was done. Just in time, too. A cigarette and a shot of tequila would treat him right, he decided. Tapping the bar, he slides over a tenner, busying himself with lighting a smoke. "Make it two." With business out of the way, Fang allows himself to relax somewhat, exhaling his deep drag off to the side.

         He grins wryly at her question. Ah, yes, his partner. Business partner, or something more? Fang and the polar bear were attached at the hip, and had been for years. They did everything together, jobs, travel, hunkering down when things got too hot. Fang was aware of the rumours regarding the two of them, he just didn't care enough to give them any thought. He was tickled people gave a damn in the first place. "Bark. Big guy keeps me focused, I guess." It was a more charitable way to describe their dynamic without getting into details. Bark was really the only consistent thing about Fang, the only person he's been able to keep around longer than a few months.

         Their drinks are poured, and Fang reaches for the salt, prepping his shot. "What about you, Ribbon? Still runnin' with that asshole? What's-his-name — Scrunge?" Licking the back of his hand, he downs the shot in one go, then biting into the lime. Yum. "Or did you finally come to your senses and go solo?"

Fiona can only wince again when Fang teases her for not having the cash on her. And puts her purse back into her pants pocket. Damn. It's been too long since she was the one belittling people for not having enough cash on them to afford her services. Nic was always better at that shit than she was though. A painful grimace-attempting-to-be-salvaged-into-a-smile rises to her features when Fang suddenly claps her shoulder and squeezes. Ouch! But again she needs him to like her, so she sucks a breath in through her grimace-grin and holds it until he removes his hand and leans back in his seat.

"I'm--so glad you understand," the fox manages, rubbing her now-sore shoulder with her other arm. She has to take a bit to think Fang's offer over though. Fiona might not be a bounty hunter anymore but she does know exactly what's "in" and what's "out" for that line of work; she knows where to cast her ears and which people to swindle and who to bribe. She hates the idea of giving Fang all that intel without being paid for it, it isn't exactly easy to get...but she can't afford him any other way. And maybe one day he'll see the worth of her and her information and turn it into a real 'partnership' if she pulls her strings in the right way. Ultimately Fiona's priority right now is just getting that stupid crocodile and his lackeys off her back.

"Yeah sure, what the hell... but don't come crying to me if the same thing that happened to the Chaotix happens to you, ok?! You're a bounty hunter so you oughta understand just how important it is for me to get paid. I sell all the same shit to everyone--you'll just get it before GUN or the Chaotix do. Is that cool?" She knows she's not really in a position to make demands but she hopes Fang will at least understand, if not on a moral level but a bounty hunter to information broker level. "...Just curious, who's your partner? Oh, bartender? Get me another tequila shot."

[synxis]

         Black Doom jolts upright in his cell, staring down at his lap. He hadn't exactly been asleep, mostly laying down with his eyes closed, nursing today's wounds and waiting for morning to come — That's when he heard it. A small voice, in the hivemind. Too far away to be properly parsed. Like a weak radio signal that crackled every so often.

         He reaches further, as far as his diminished form would allow, pushing even further still. A voice —— small and alien to Doom, but a voice nonetheless. Instinctively, born of centuries of leadership, he tries to give them a clear command — but he is met with silence. He knew the answer before he even tried, but it still stung. No, this wasn't his to control. Of course it wasn't. His flock had been killed. He knew that.

         But that begged the question, who was this? Someone capable of (accidentally) tapping into a channel that had been long dead. His brow furrows, eyes closing. He'd have to try a different angle, then.

         ( State your name and your purpose. )

         A simple pair of questions, generously open-ended too. It was frustrating not being able to command information out of anyone he wanted anymore. He was humbled time and time again.

starter for @quartarcade

[synxis]

         Oh.

         Kit's gaze was downcast, so he doesn't see the look that flickers across the priest's face. But there's now a notable pause, a hesitation that wasn't there before. It concerned him, first and foremost, that Kit would even think pain could be real outcome here. Francis tries not to jump to conclusions without more information, but it made him worry.

         This job, this lifestyle gave Francis an opportunity to meet all sorts of people —— civilians to heroes, small time crooks to serial murderers —— although it was fulfilling and difficult work, there wasn't a week where Francis hadn't been threatened at one point or another. But, to be threatened by a child? There was a first for everything, he supposed.

         His head tilts down in an effort to meet Kit's gaze, lowering himself further. He wonders if trying to reassure Kit 'of course I wouldn't hurt you', would only deepen their mistrust. Why should he? Francis was a stranger, after all. He wants to tell him there are no wrong answers, but ultimately, he decides against it, relenting instead. "Alright. I suppose that's fair, I'll accept your conditions." Straightening himself, his thumb brushes idly over his wedding ring.

         "(...) Would you like to join me for lunch?" It wasn't his original question, feeling like he had to side-step into something more neutral. Just for now. "It's only some stew re-heated from last night. I made too much, and I could use some help."

Nobody's ever touched me so kindly, Kitsunami thinks, watching the stranger — a father? Frances — tend his wound. Kitsunami doesn't know what a cathedral is, but he's aware of the concept of fathers ( even if he doesn't understand the word's meaning in a religious context ) and supposes that this is how they're supposed to be. Kind, gentle, protective. The closest Kitsunami has is Starline, who hurts him — hurts Surge — even now, dead in the dirt. It's...nice, to be touched kindly, not grabbed or strapped down or opened up. It's frightening. There's no script to follow. When does the violence come?

"Um. Thank you. Francis." They curl a little smaller. It's nice. They're not supposed to like anything that isn't violence and making Surge happy. It feels selfish. They shouldn't need anything else. They don't need anything else.

— May I ask you a question? Kit's eyes lower further. A test? Is this when the violence comes? He grimaces, then nods. "Sure." He pauses, scowling down at his knees. "But if you — hurt me 'cause I get the answer wrong," like Starline did, sometimes, in the half - memories he doesn't want, and like Surge does now, "I'll hurt you worse. That's a promise."

[synxis]

         god of death??? synxis ft. god of death???

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         He rests his chin in his gloved hand, mulling over her predicament. His smirk twitches at the mention of the Chaotix and G.U.N in one sentence, a small huff through his snout. Maybe it was just because he was in a good mood, but he had to admire her moxie, trying to double dip. Hell, Fang knew how it was, he would've done the same thing ——  if it were literally any one else. Dealing with G.U.N was just asking for trouble; their honeyed promises and wads of cash wasn't worth the all the strings attached. And the Chaotix... The Chaotix were just goddamn annoying.

         "Whatever chump change you have in that little coin purse ain't gunna be enough, I'll tell you that much," Cue the sing-songy tone, the smug look. "I know exactly how to handle those guys, and it's gunna require some civilians in mayhem. Y'know, make 'em realize their current problems - You - aren't all that bad, really."

         He claps his gloved hand on her shoulder, giving it a mean squeeze.  "Lucky for you, they're goddamn spineless if you show how sooooorryyy you really are. Pop your head in after the dust's settled, bring 'em one of those fruit baskets, I don't care what you do. This'll work."

         He withdraws from her, leaning back in his chair again. "Course, the subject of payment..." What was the next best thing to cash? Favors. "How's this, for a discount? I cut you a deal, but all that juicy intel you run comes straight to me 'n my partner." 

Damnit. I should have known. Fiona winces at Fang's next question, a grimace spreading quickly across her face. "Well," she says, trying to make her voice as innocuous as possible, "I kinda sorta sell information to them--and also to GUN. I sold the same info to the both of them at the same time and I guess it put the Chaotix in some hot water with em." Now she has to save it and make it look reasonable. "But that could have happened to anyone! I mean, it's not my fault they got caught doing illegal shit! You'd think some private eyes would know that!"

She tries to reel herself in, knowing she's getting too carried away by her own frustration, and she wants Fang to like her enough to not want to bleed her wallet dry. "The Chaotix need me--need my info, they're practically useless without me--but I think they need to...well--cool off for a bit. They need to think the partnership over before they do somethin' they regret and make me have to beat them up instead of accept that it was a mistake that could happen to anyone and save the bloodshed. Ya know? So I wanna give them the run-around for a bit." Her grimace turns into a withering sort of smile. Then she downs the shot she bought for herself and slams the empty glass back onto the bartop. Casts a mirthless grin at the bounty hunter. "Please? For--Ribbon?" Using the arbitrary nickname makes her want to vomit--but she really, really needs Fang on her side. Anything is better than getting beaten to a pulp by Vector!!

[synxis]

         The doctor only has enough time to tense before he's swept off his feet, now cradled in Sonic's arms. The doctor looked alarmed as his mind caught up, that smug smile long gone. There was a fleeting moment where he feared Sonic may drop him, the small stumble enough to make his squirming still completely — but Sonic steadies himself, and he is spared from meeting the floor.

         "This isn't —" Finitevus sounds almost shy, already out of his element. "I — I think my rings would — perhaps we could use another method that doesn't involve —" He trails off quietly, not recognizing his own voice. Only now in Sonic's arms was he open to exploring options, open to compromising. Convenient. His metal hands were tucked against his white uniform, an instinctual position mainly to spare Sonic's shoulders. Metal claws would be gripping into his flesh right now, he was sure of it, which may dampen the overall mood of today's outing.

         He had peeked up to Sonic, just in time for that confident wink, causing his gaze to dart down again. Ugh. Insufferable. A pretty pink paints his pale complexion, though he does his best to ignore it. Ugh. ugh.          Field work. Sure. Eventually, begrudgingly, he relents with an exhale, unable to keep eye contact even now. Like Sonic said, this was a quick trip outside, nothing more. His presence wouldn't be missed if they were efficient. "How... how far is this field?" It was a question born from worry, not wanting to be away long —— which only made it clear Dr. Finitevus didn't quite comprehend just how fast travel via Sonic could be.

     The way Finitevus reacts, one might think he’s been told something completely devoid of sense. Sonic cracks a smile and says nothing. “Funny guy,” he thinks.

     And yet in the doctor’s eyes, it must truly be nonsensical. His reality is one forged in tragedy, reinforced by metal walls and malevolent creation. Sonic wonders what life must be like in the Empire, living amongst all that smog and ruin – nothing green, save for what Finitevus’ nurtures in his spare time. There’s a whole world he’s missing. The thought causes something to stir inside Sonic’s chest.

     The ghost orchid had been a gift without expectation. It was acknowledgement – “I see you.” A display of good will. Sonic hopes that Finitevus will remember that now.

     “One of those?” Sonic asks, practically giggling at the offer. “No way.” His voice takes on a mischievous tone, “I’ve got something better in mind!” True to his namesake, in the blink of an eye he’s closed the distance to situate himself behind Finitevus. One arm comes up under his knees, the other at his back, and just like that he’s secure in Sonic’s arms! His balance teeters slightly, thrown off-kilter by surprise – he wasn’t expecting him to be heavy. Sonic spares a glance at Finitevus’ hands and legs ( they’re cool to the touch ), noting their color; black, gold, and no red in sight. Some humility from Ivo.

     Maybe running off with the Empire’s surgeon isn’t the best idea, Sonic thinks, but when has that ever stopped him? So long as Eggman doesn’t go mortally wounding himself in the next few hours, he’ll survive an afternoon without him.

     “It’ll be quick.” He winks. “Think of it as, hm… field work!” If Finitevus' stomach can handle a warp ring, then it can definitely handle high speed travel. If not? Eh, a taste of his own medicine.

[synxis]

▌         ✦     𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐗𝐈𝐒   ——   a selective / mutuals only multi, primarily AU and heavily headcanon based.   ft. black doom, espio, dr. finitevus, francis (oc), fang, vice (oc)   penned by mar   ( 21+,  they / she )

          ✦     𝐈.     rules.           ✦     𝐈𝐈.    muse list.           ✦     𝐈𝐈𝐈.   carrd.           ✦     𝐈𝐕.   about.

[synxis]

         Fang's eye narrows as his grin spreads, the most irritating smile he could muster. He didn't even bother giving her a reply. She knew damn well he didn't give freebies, and Fiona was no damsel.

         "Those jack-offs?" He taps his chin, pretending to think. They were a stubborn bunch Fang had the displeasure of bumping into more than a few times — they were the noble type, eager to drop everything to help those in need. Easy enough to overwhelm with more work than they could handle.

         He leans against the bar counter, smirk thinning. "That depends — What's a pretty thing like you do to get on their radar? And don't skirt the details, Ribbon, it's factors in on the price."

"Not even for a beautiful damsel such as myself?" Fiona he literally wears an eyepatch with a heart on it I don't think you're going to be able to use your feminine charmz with a z on this guy.

She sighs, knowing it's already a battle she's going to lose, and opens her coin purse. To show her displeasure, and to let Fang know this is awfully inconvenient for her she asks through gritted teeth: "How much...I just need to get the Chaotix off my tail for a bit."

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         ( HA )  "You want my help? I ain't cheap, let's make that crystal clear."

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         He felt it before he even knew they were there —— something terribly nostalgic in ways that made his stomach churn.

         Doom sits upright, legs hanging off the edge of his 'bed', a flat slab of stainless steel with little else, staring forward at nothing. Something was here, in the base, in the labs, that did not belong. It was night hours, no employees lingered at this time, the overheard lights dimmed, but never completely off.

         Yet, Black Doom beckons this, encourages them to find the source. It's more of a weak suggestion than anything, a far cry from the unflinching commands that he was once capable of. Closer, closer...

         Until — until the visitor rounds the corner, creation in the flesh. Doom hadn't begun to process the face he looked at, who it belonged to, before he was asked a question so bold, it may as well be a slap to the face.

         "How dare you —" His voice was tight, trying and failing to keep his anger in check. He stalks towards the thick glass wall that separated them, tendrils writhing and twisting in distaste. "You have the NERVE to show your face and insult me further with wilful ignorance."

         This was Shadow, was it not? Appearances can be deceiving, Black Doom knew this better than anyone, but Shadow's presence was unmistakable. This was Shadow — A Shadow?

         Yet the other stares at him like he was nothing, NO ONE. Infuriating. Insulting. He can't stand the look on Shadow's face. "You are worse than the demons that keep me here."

starter for @synxis | for black doom!

Shadow cannot say why exactly but he knows he is being pulled somewhere. It's a feeling, a residual calling, somewhere sleeping in his mind. A curling of something around the part of his brain responsible for rational thought. Eventually it'd become bothersome. The hedgehog wanted to just know. He's not used to being led around like this, his steps usually his own. Steps Shadow has worked hard to reclaim. So why is he back here, at the Eggman Empire's doorstep?

Annoyingly, the door to the lab just opens right up like it'd been expecting him, jaws yawning sleepily into fluorescent-lined hallways. Shadow takes a single step in, as if to test if there's an alarm. No alarm. The call in his mind latches on and pulls, more forcefully. The hedgehog can only obey, slowly walking amongst septic-stained tile, footsteps light. An elevator. He hits the button. Shadow knows what floor he must take the elevator to. He hits a second button. The elevator moves with a whirr.

There's one room on this level. A thick sheet of glass Shadow knows is too strong to break with his fists or even his powers separates the Ultimate Lifeform from the person on the other end of the hall. The cell is otherwise inhospitable. A holding room for experiments.

"What,"--(not who)--"are you?"

[synxis]

         𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐒 𝐎𝐍 as it was known to do — the hustle of the labs, the mundane chit chat of coworkers, the caged subject shooting pointed glares at anyone that dared to exist near him. Same as it ever was.

         Finitevus, though, stared at the numbers in front of him, not really reading anything. His mind was wandering, a rarity he did not welcome, mulling over his weekend. He thinks back to the gentle breeze, the expansive fields of life. Much more than Finitevus had ever realized. Almost as if ——

         He stills for a moment, only now realizing how quiet the labs had gotten. It was jarring enough to snap him out of his daze, tilting his head to the lab entrance and freezing — Doctor Eggman had made an appearance.

         For a moment the labs were still, the fluorescent lights overheard were oppressive in their droning. They all stare to their boss, their leader, their beloved dictator, shocked beyond woords he was here in the flesh. A rare visit. Dr. Eggman was always busy with greater and grander plans — surely he had little time to spend popping in unannounced? They blink stupidly a moment longer, before remembering themselves, smiles plastered on their faces.

"Oh, what a pleasant surprise— !"   "Good evening, sir!"   "Can I fetch you anything? Anything at all?"

         The small team of Empire scientists crowd Eggman by the door, though not close enough to be in arms reach. Not bold enough to approach their beloved leader with an unearned enthusiasm — after all, there was little reason why Dr. Eggman would come down here, in person, unannounced. It couldn't be good. Everyone here knew that — Finitevus especially.

Finitevus had stayed where he was when everyone dropped what they were doing, his heels refusing to move. There was a strange dread that was building in his chest, which made him instinctively tighten his grip on his tablet. Why was Ivo here? Certainly... not because he had gone outside? Outside with...

He swallows, finding his throat to be dry.

@mechanicalmachinations

[synxis]

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐌:    Centuries of planning snuffed out in an instant, felled by his own creation.

           Doom is alive!  Yipee!  Albeit in a much smaller, weaker form. In order to survive the aftermath of their fight (see. Devil Doom), Black Doom absorbed Doom's Eye, shedding his body and managing something closer to an imp. He awoke some time later, in a field of green, disoriented and completely cut off from the Black Arms hivemind. Doom knew he had lost. Without a chance to steady himself, he was discovered by a motobug on patrol -- although he was alive, it was apparent he had the misfortune of landing in Empire territory. His body was so weak, he couldn't even crush the badnik that gave away his position, and soon eggpawns were on him, dragging him back to the nearby base.

The last person he wanted to see in such a state was a Robotnik, and Eggman's glee was insufferable. Instead of simply killing Doom then and there, Eggman decided keeping him in his underground labs would be much more fitting.

And that's where's he's been! Being poked and prodded in the name of science or whatever. Eggman has gone to great lengths to make sure Shadow isn't aware of Doom's existence underground, knowing exactly how he'd react. (badly) Eggman mostly aims to run tests and gather information on his biology. Who knows! Maybe Doom's strange DNA might actually be useful.

From conqueror to conquered, from ruler to lab subject.

[synxis]

         Kitsunami — or Kit, if he wanted. They had made an effort to offer their preferred name, so the choice was obvious. "Kit, then. It's nice to meet you." His eyes remain downcast, focused on his task with care. Francis' mind wanders briefly, humming a hymn as he roots through his bag. He wonders where this little kit came from — why he seemed to be all alone in such a big city — if he was lost. Multiple questions buzz vaguely in the back of his mind, though he voices none, not yet anyways. One problem at a time.

         A peek up to Kit at the question, his smile reaching his mismatched eyes. "My name is Father Bittlebun. I am responsible for this cathedral and everyone within it," he replied. "but, if you'd like, you can call me Francis."

         Freshly cleaned, Francis was also relieved to see that the cut was mostly superficial, relieved for entirely different reasons he remained woefully unaware of. The ointment was applied, his eyes flitting up every so often to see if the stinging would be too much, then finally, the bandage is applied.

         He sits back, happy with his work, his hands returning to rest on his own lap. "There we are. Your knee will heal in no time at all. Thank you for being so patient." He stays on the floor, hoping at this level would be less intimidating, easier to chat with, as opposed to his full height.

         Now that their knee was mended, Francis decides to prod. "Kit? May I ask you a question?"

Kit, immediately, does as they've been told and finds a seat — always good at following orders, especially now, without Surge around to give directions the supercede everything else. They don't like splitting up, but they're glad, somewhere deep in their artificial chest, that Surge isn't here. She'd hate this stranger and his kindness. She might want to kill him. Kitsunami doesn't want to kill anyone except Sonic and Tails.

When the other returns, Kit straightens, sitting at attention, waiting for — he's not sure. Something. Violet eyes widen and slight shoulders wince back when he kneels before him. That's not right, he doesn't think, for anybody to kneel to the useless sidekick, he's not even the hero — but maybe he just doesn't know. His lips press together.

"I'm — um. I'm Kitsunami. You can just call me Kit, if you want." His lips part to say that he sincerely doubts anything he can put him through will really hurt, but he thinks better of it. Surge might have taken that as a challenge, back at the beginning. He's glad the wound is mostly-shallow. No danger of seeing metal. "What's — um. What's your name?"

[synxis]

𝐃𝐑. 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐔𝐒

misc headcanons / eggman empire

Due to his sheltered upbringing, Finitevus never experienced any form of freedom, especially with romance. His very first relationship is his current one, with Dr. Eggman, and they had very quickly gotten married not long after. He is still quite clumsy when it comes to romance or affection, always feeling out of his element and awkward.

He prefers to keep his relationship status private because of this. A nightmare scenario would be people knowing who he is beyond 'guy who works in the empire'. (he is literally that one image of a guy standing in the corner of a party: they don't know I'm married to Dr. Eggman...)

Yes, most of his body is entirely Empire Owned, yes leaving (divorcing) would most likely be an impossible task, but he doesn't think about that. No need to think about Any of that, because it won't happen. It can't. So, he just doesn't think about it.

Since he had grown up in poverty, material items have never been a priority or concern to him. Even with his high rank in the Empire, he lives frugally, his living quarters having the basics and little else. He dislikes clutter and anything remotely unnecessary.

.... But his greenhouse is something special. He's never had opportunity to cultivate his interests into something positive and Eggman has so lovingly given that to him. He'd downplay it when asked, mutter something about it being just a side project, but in reality he's put sooo much of his care and attention into this place.

If it were destroyed, or if his greenhouse were burned down, it would probably fuck with him on a level that he isn't emotionally ready to handle. Yes, he realizes that regrowing/rebuilding is possible, objectively they are only flowers, but they were his flowers.