#I want to chew the tungsten cubes

[verytiredmeerkat]

I want a cereal but with 1cm tungsten cubes

[peck2neck]

hiiii. heres the allohema logs from the wyatt dies au

putting it all under the cut since its preeeeetty long. the first two were written back in january while the third one was written recently

dunno what else to say soooo enjoy :]

Allo.Hema LOG_1

It's been about a day since I first discovered that Wyatt had gone missing. I don't think I ever could have seen it coming - things were fine a few days ago. I went over to visit, but he was more cheerful than usual. He was finally starting to open up, I think. Hell, I even managed to make him laugh, something I assumed that he was incapable of. He gave me a present before I left and I went back for the day. I wasn't able to visit for a while after, things get pretty busy during the holiday season but I managed to sneak out just after new years. But... He wasn't there. In fact, there was nothing but rubble. Charred metal lying limp around where the feint memory of a shack had been. I searched for hours to no avail. I couldn't find him anywhere, and I'm starting to believe that maybe... he- ...nevermind.

I brought Microwave back to the lab with me. It seems like she wasn't around when it.. happened. I checked her and she appears to be unscathed. I doubt I'll be able to keep her here for long, though. As soon as someone notices she's here I'll get in trouble and she'll get rehomed. I feel bad for the thing, she's just been staring at the door all day. It's obvious she wants to go back, but i can't let her - she doesn't know that no one is waiting there for her.

I should really throw his file away - I have no need for notes about Wyatt anymore but I... can't bring myself to do it. Not right now, at least. I'll keep them for a bit longer - just in case. Tomorrow I'll sneak out again, just one more time. I need to be sure. I need answers. It just doesn't make sense! I'm the only one who has had contact with Wyatt for YEARS, he basically confirmed it! Unless I had been followed? I doubt it was an accident, either. He may be arrogant but he sure as hell isn't stupid. It just.. doesn't add up. I'll watch my back tomorrow but I'm not sure what else I can do.

Allo.Hema LOG_2

I fixed up the flowerbeds while I was out there today. He never let me anywhere near them before, but someone has to tend to them. On that note, its been about over a week now, and there's still no sign of him. It would seem I have no choice but to believe that he's gone.. however I just can't. I said that I'd go back one more time, but for the past few days I've been returning over and over, desperate for a something, anything.... nothing. I've been tidying a few things while he's been absent - might as well pass the time. Some of his belongings seemed to survive, so I'm going to take them back to the lab with me - until he gets back, of course. It's pretty calm out here, all things considered. It's... quiet, there's a clear view of the sky and a slight breeze at my back. I suppose getting out of that building for a while is doing me some good.

I still haven't fully decided what to do with Microwave. No one has noticed that she's here, surprising considering I ordered so many cat toys.. ahem - I've been considering keeping her, to be honest. Wyatt cared a lot about Microwave, and I'd feel bad just.. giving her away with no guarantee that she'll be safe. Besides, she's taken a liking to me. My jacket is covered in cat hairs.. I hope no one is allergic, because I'm about to run out of spare ones.. More annoyingly, she keeps knocking everything off of my desk, even my tungsten cube! I used to wonder why Wyatt's tools were scattered on the floor, but I guess that's why. I don't mind the company, though. She curls up on my lap while I'm doing paperwork and I can hear a feint purr each time. She's adorable.. but I should get her to stop chewing the wires.

Looking back, he always seemed to be worried about me, specifically what my job was like. It always confused me why seemed so pushy about it despite him being so abrasive, though I slowly figured out why. We even talked about it one day, and I managed to assure him that i'll be fine. I'm already very aware of what the higher-ups think of me, and i've never trusted them for a second to be honest. I know they'll attempt to decommission me the moment I stop being... useful to them, but what's stopping me from leaving? I could always pack my things and leave the night before - information always gets back to me somehow, so I'd know. They'd never find me if I lay low somewhere, I've already removed that damned tracking chip ages ago, and I could continue my work for free, for those who need it somewhere else. Huh. It doesn't feel like a bad thing to consider, actually.. Hah, guess he was right. He knew what he was doing when he gave me that bag, I suppose.

I'll think about it. Maybe I could find some information out there, a lead to what happened to him - or maybe I'm getting ahead of myself.. I'll bide my time and bite my (metaphorical) tongue.

Allo.Hema LOG_3

I left. After 4 months I finally bit the bullet and.. ran away, i suppose. I'm currently laying low in Wyatt's old shack- what I could salvage of it anyways. The charred ground seems to have been washed away by the rain, but this place is still somewhat in a state of disarray despite my attempts to fix it. About a week was spent packing my things, going back and forth between my office and the scrapyard to drop off my stuff. I have enough supplies to last for a while on my own before I'll have to find some way of getting new ones. I'm not sure what I'll do after that.. but i have more important things to worry about at the moment. Microwave is with me, too. I made sure to stock up on food for her, though Wyatt always managed to get some for her so I doubt I'll have to worry too much about it. She seems glad to be back in the scrapyard, but she keeps searching for Wyatt. I guess we're both in the same boat.

The reason I left.. is because I found a lead. I spent all of those months trying to find something and for once I finally did. I think I've found what - or who - may be responsible for Wyatt's death.. or rather his disappearance. I knew he couldn't really be dead. Surely he's too stubborn for that. My research leads me to believe that theres.. someone behind everything that's happened to him. The issue is that I don't know how to locate it. All of my research for nothing. Again. But I still have to try, I can't rest knowing that he's out there.

I've never really tried.. building anything. I've watched Wyatt do it plenty of times and he made it look easy so it cant be THAT bad, right?? I have his old tools, so I guess I can practice by properly fixing this shack. All I did earlier was slide some scrap metal sheets on top of each other and called it a day. He always seemed to passionate about making things, even if he didn't want to admit it. Most of his belongings were salvaged scrap that was repurposed into something new. Surely I could do the same. It's starting to get darker now. When was the last time I saw the sunset? It's much more beautiful than I remembered. I guess not being stuck inside all the time really does have its upsides. I don't like my jacket being covered in dirt though, I'm not sure how I'm going to clean it.

I have an idea. I'm not sure if it will work, but i think it's worth a try. If it's successful, I might be able to get some answers. This may take months, even years to finish- but this creation will be what I need to find it. To find answers.

I have to get answers. I have to. I will find him.

[some-guy-writes]

FTB Ch 1.

50 Tungsten Bullets Chapter 1: Fifty

Summary | Next

“Who did you get this from?” Jeebs asked.

Spiv leaned on the pawner’s counter. “Who?” he smirked. ”Ain’t no ‘who.’ Found it ourselves, old man. Though, I might be willing to part with the where for something extra.” 

“I ain’t that old.”

“Twenty years my senior at least,” Spiv snickered. “Makes you old in my book.”

Truth be told, Spiv wasn’t sure as to the exact age of Mr. Jeebs. Looked just as wrinkled and grumpy as he did the day Spiv tried to steal the shoes off his feet as a kid. Spiv got caught and beat till he was seeing stars. But by the fourth attempt, Jeebs sat him down with some lukewarm soup and taught him how to make an honest living. Well, a more honest living.

Jeebs stared at the immaculate metal cylinder with a solemn glare. He didn’t even bother responding with one of his famous ten K curses. The device was silver in color, with a gold tint and despite the dim sunlight peeking through the cracks in Jeeb’s shack, it lit up the room as if being struck by mid day. Fifty thousand kollars, easy. Spiv hadn’t the foggiest what the thing he found was, but old world tech like that would fetch a pretty penny from collectors. He brought it to Jeebs because, fuck, even he got a little sentimental at times. Spiv figured it’d only be right for Jeebs to make the first offer. 

“Put it back,” Jeebs spoke without looking up. 

“Sun bake your brain while I’ve been gone?” Spiv pushed off the ancient dead wood table and paced in a circle. “Shit, Jeebs. My crew almost died a dozen times over to get that thing to town and now you’re saying put it back? This could really change things for us if we find the right buyer.” 

“Ain’t gonna be no buyers, put it back,” Jeebs growled. 

“Old man, I got nothing but respect for you. You’ve done a lot for us over the years, but now you’re talkin’ about taking money out of our pocket.” 

Spiv reached for the device. Jeebs slammed his hand down on its casing with such force that it knocked a crystal on the shelf behind him to the floor, shattering in a myriad of iridescent colors. 

“Take it past Yonder’s Mountain, to the bunker where you found it, and put it back.”

“How’d you-”

Jeebs eyes burned beneath droopy lids and a thick brow. “Because I’m the one who put it there.”

“You couldn’t have,” Spiv stammered. “The hull was sealed for centuries. We checked the logs.”

“User authenticated,” a synthesized voice spoke from the device. There was a hiss as white fog seeped out. A panel popped open to reveal a hollow interior. 

Spiv’s eyes bulged like a rock rabbit that’s been left dead two days on a dirt road. “Shit… You’re an old worlder. One the immortals.” 

“Ain’t all that. Can still die, same as any of you. Just don’t get any older is all.”

Spiv’s gaze drifted back to the capsule. Jeebs turned it around so he could see. Inside was a massive revolver and a single shell with a name on it. Gun like that put everything in the crew’s arsenal to shame. Probably put everything in the whole town of Bakersville to shame.

“It’s my gun,” Jeebs said. “Hideo model 12 hybrid, fifty cal. Made to fire tungsten rounds with ionized neon core. Could punch a hole the size of my fist in a tank from a quarter mile off. And that casing is from when I shot the man who killed my wife.”

“You could buy all of Bakersville with that thing. Fuckn’ shit.”

Jeebs looked away. “And all it cost me was two tickets to Fluorescent.”

“Bull crap,” Spiv laughed. “Old man Jeebs living it up with the rich folks on Fluorescent? I can’t even picture it.”

“It’s the truth. Would have been. If, well...”

“Sorry about your wife.”

“No need to trouble yourself,” Jeebs said, rubbing his nose. “Happened before your great great grandaddy could piss himself.”

“Why leave the gun in the ground?”

“Killed two dozen men with that thing. Didn’t want to be reminded of the kind of man it made me. Stuck it in a casimir vacuum chamber and left it at my wife’s grave.”

A minute of silence passed between them. Jeebs refused to look at the capsule. Spiv couldn’t look away. 

“What does it take? To become immortal, that is,” Spiv asked. 

Jeebs let out a sigh. “Wouldn't tell a soul even if I knew. Wars were fought over that question. Wouldn’t want to be the cause of the next.” 

“Does that mean you’re the last one left? Thought all the immortals were rounded up and killed off in the last conflict.”

“No, not all. They just keep a low profile, like me. Can’t be having any more joining the club neither. Just pray that you never meet one. Seen what happens when people live long enough to lose their humanity.”

Spiv took a deep breath, resting his hands behind his head. “Could just as easily turn you in and buy a ticket to Fluorescent myself.” 

“Do what you will,” Jeebs spoke. “You’re a good kid. Wouldn’t want my head to pay for nobody else’s trip to Flour. But I won’t be goin’ easy. Last thing my wife said to me before she died was to live a long and beautiful life. And I don’t intend to let her know how cruel that was to say.”

Spiv cracked a smile. “Wouldn’t dream of throwing my father off a cliff to save my own skin. Might never met him, but you’re sure as hell the closest thing I’ve got.”

Jeebs wiped his eyes. “Don’t say shit like that. Might even make this ol’ life worth living.”

“But what about the gun? Even if I put it back, someone else is just gonna come along and find it.”

“I know.” Jeebs said. “Just get it out of my sight. It’s yours. Spent too much time remembering things I’d hoped to forget.”

“Ey, Spiv,” a wary voice spoke from behind. 

“Well if it ain’t lil’ Kit,” Jeebs chuckled. “Still think you’re better off runin’ with Spiv than workin’ the brothel with your mum.”

“Fuck off, Jeebs. But seriously,“ she said, tugging at Spiv’s arm. “We gotta go. Like right now.”

Spiv glared at her. “What’d you do?”

“I got kinda bored waiting and I mighta scammed a few shady pricks. Now let’s go!”

“Weren’t wearing black masks, were they?” Spiv asked. 

“Yeah. Why?”

“Fuck, Kit! That’s the Faceless Gang from the down south. I warned you about them. Those fuckers will straight up kill you. Like chopped up into little bits and fed to livestock kinda dead.” 

Kit chewed on her cheek. “...Well that’s even more reason why we need to go.”

“Take the door out back,” Jeebs said. Right as the one in the front was knocked clean off its hinges by a large, black boot. 

Spiv scooped up the capsule and bolted. “Find the crew and skip,” he said to Kit as they crept out of the shack. “Not the usual place. Second cave past the landfill. Got it?”

“Yeah. What about you?”

“I’m staying for a bit. Gotta see if old man Jeebs needs my help.”

Kit nodded. She pulled her scarf around her face and dashed off. Like lightning on a sunny day the kids used to call her, and for good reason. Spiv breathed a little easier. Ice cube’s chance in winter on Sebrum anyone’d catch Kit when she got going. 

Spiv peaked between shelves filled with Jeeb’s junk. Just enough to see a cloaked figure in all black strutting towards the old man, an intimidating gun at his hip. 

“Lookin’ for a little roach that ran away with my money,” the stranger said. “Wouldn’t happened to seen where it went, would you pawn man?”

The man in black spoke through some sort of filter. His voice sounded distorted, robotic, like that of the AI in Jeeb’s capsule. 

“Don’t do business with roaches.” Jeebs eyed the man from where he sat. “If you’re here to buy or sell, then we can talk.” 

The man in black stepped closer and put both hands on the counter. “Well I’ll be. You are the spittin’ image of the man that killed the ol’ boss Joey Iron Rod. Grandaddy o’ yours? Grandaddy’s granddaddy?”

“Wouldn’t know nothin’ ‘bout it.”

“Nah. ‘Cause I know for fact the fuck never made spawn. You are the man that killed Joey Iron Rod. Woulda thought time’d do my work for me. Guess the only way to make sure a job is done is to do it yourself, right?” the stranger laughed.

“Might have a point there. Figured the rest of you immortal cunts got blown up in the wars with the rest.” Jeebs reached for a shotgun under his desk.

“Nah see, the old old gang made it through the wars alright. Hid out in the desert, got by. ‘Course, really should be thanking you. Made picking them off myself a whole lot easier.” The stranger leaned in closer. “Let you in on a secret. Reason my gang wear’s masks is so I’ll always be on top. Just gotta purge a couple cunts and call myself something new. ‘Course, now that you know, I’ma have to kill you.”

“Best move your failed fetal acohol abortion ass along,” Jeebs said. “This is my town. Been here forty years. Anything happens to me, posse of thirty to three hundred be after you.”

The man in black stepped away, turning his back, arms raised in a V. “Town might be yours, but the whole world of Sebrum is mine. I am its god. Its immortal ruler. Anyone who stands against my rule will be-”

Before the stranger could finish his sentence, Jeebs landed two rounds of buckshot in his back. The man stumbled from the impact, but he just laughed. 

“Gonna need more than that to kill me,” the man in black spoke. 

That voice made Spiv the coldest he’d ever felt. Tasting ice once when he was seven was now in second place. He swallowed, hard and dry.

The stranger rolled up a dark sleeve. Underneath was a metal arm. It gleamed like the capsule Spiv clutched in his hands. 

“While you been playing shop keep, I’ve been quite productive with my time,” the stranger said, admiring his body. “Took a few generations of scavengers to collect all this. Enough old world tech to make that ol’ cyborg Joey Iron Rod green with envy. Count yourself honoured. You’re the first to see this hand in the better part of a century.” 

He raised his palm to Jeebs.

Jeebs shoved another two rounds in his gun and took aim.

“Your wife screamed bloody murder as Joey split ‘er in two with his iron rod,” the man in black chuckled. “Thought I’d let you know, for when you meet ‘er again.”

There was a soft wine as capacitors discharged. A red light shined from the stranger’s hand, bathing the shop in blood red. Jeebs fired two shots.

Spiv blinked. The next thing he knew, the shack was in flames and Jeebs was on the ground in two pieces. Spiv shook. He’d feared for his life many a time before, but nothing quite compared to this. He wasn’t one to heed monsters. That was, until seeing one in metal flesh. 

The man in black strutted out the way he came, whistling to himself. Spiv wanted to go after him. Wanted to take him from behind and smash his deranged face in. But Spiv was scared. So scared. Too scared to move. He crawled out of the rubble, capsule in hand, tears in his eyes and a tremble in his step. 

It was night when Spiv returned to Jeeb’s shack. The poor thing was looted to completion in hours and the rest burned to the ground. A few people stood around a mound out front with a stone on top. Under normal circumstances, if someone fucked with this town, there’d be a posse after them in no time flat, for better or for worse. How places kept their peace and independence. Nothing like that tonight. By now, everyone had heard the rumors of what the Faceless Gang did to Westbrook Oasis a few miles south. Rumors Spiv was certain to be true. 

Spiv adjusted his belt. He wasn’t used to the weight of fifty tungsten rounds quite yet. Cost him one thousand kollars each. His hand went to the cloth wrapped revolver resting in a holster at his side. The barrel alone nearly reached his knee. He pulled his hat a little lower, spat and walked off into the night. Word was the Faceless Gang was headed up to Jepsum. As luck would have it, so was he.