#Monkeywrites

[lordsireno]

Urban explorer Goal has her next target in sight: The mall that was abandoned after a fatal fire. And this time she's got friends.

Rufus came on the promise of spending the night with a beautiful girl in an all you can smash and steal event. Cletus came along on the promise of spending the night with a beautiful girl, but did it really have to be somewhere so filthy? Toni was here as the usual company Goal had on her trips, and Argus had been instructed to bring Goal home the moment something went wrong.

But there may be more secrets to uncover than just the back rooms and service tunnels...

(intro snippet under the cut!)

“I can’t believe I let myself be dragged along on this stupid excursion.”

No one spared Cletus a glance as the five emerged from the overgrowth, out onto the cracked pavement of the parking lot. Before them loomed the massive structure of the abandoned shopping mall, stretching off into the distance.It was a mild evening, warmth slowly fading now the sun was on the other side of the building, with a breeze that gave way to quiet squeaking of broken lights and rustling of dried out bushes.

“Alright, according to the map-” Goal took the folded paper from her pocket, something she’d copied from the library archives, “There’s a fire escape that leads into the cinema. Hopefully since this end is so far from the entrance and damaged areas, it should have the least amount of security.”

Toni gave a small laugh as she dropped her cigarette and snuffed it out with her toe, “Don’t you find it ironic we’re sneaking in through a fire escape, when this place was shut down because people couldn’t escape the fire?”

“Let’s try to respect those who gave us the urban explorers dream location.” Goal pouted.

Rufus scoffed, “My dream location would be one of those spooky mental hospitals in the woods, that was also used to perform unethical experiments in an attempt to make some type of super soldier, that ultimately they lost control of and were destroyed by. But I guess potentially haunted by holiday shoppers' works too.”

The scavenger rifled through his pockets, producing a hand-held camcorder which he shoved into Argus’ hands.

“Okay, start filming.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re in charge of recording our adventure!”

Argus scowled, “No, I’m in charge of dragging Goal’s body back to her Father when this all goes wrong. That’s all.”

“It’s gonna be ages before we get to anything exciting, so just make yourself useful in the meantime, arsehole.”

“Oh I could end this whole excursion right here junk rat.”

Goal stepped between the two, pushing them apart by their shoulders.

“We agreed- no fighting, they’ll be enough of that if the guards find us. Please play nice.” She pulled her sadded eyes, “For my sake?”

Rufus stuck out his tongue in victory, while Argus muttered something under his breath and shoved the camera into Cletus’ hands, ignoring his confused protests. Pleased at the resolution, Goal turned and led the group across the cracked ground to a rusted stairwell that still clung to the outer wall. Red flecks flitted through the air as each scaled the steps, Rufus causing a mighty groan in the structure when he pushed forward to reach the door first. While chained, the crowbar he pulled from his coat made short work of the forgotten door, opening a dark hole into the depths.

At the back of the group, Cletus spared one last glance at the outside, flicking on the camera with a forlorn sigh.

“If this recording is the only thing they find of us, let it be known I was totally against it all.”

[lordsireno]

Argus sighed into his glass, lamenting the foul smell that wafted up in return. If there was anything in the wasteland that made him miss his original prison, it was their poor attempts at developing alcohol.

“Who I wouldn’t kill for some purified water rations…”

“Oh I know right?”

He went taught, fighting every muscle that tried to reach for his gun. The light and airy voice clearly couldn’t belong to someone out for his death, but it was much too close for comfort.

“But maybe not the kill part…”

He turned slowly, peering over his shoulder and up under the hood of the strange girl. ‘Irradiated carrot’ was the first thing that came to mind, with her bright orange hair and pale, clean skin reflecting every particle of light, almost defeating the purpose of the cloak. She looked out of place, and that made her bad news, so he turned away and put his attention back to trying to convince himself to take a swig.

“Eh, please, wait. I heard you were looking for someone.”

When the girl recoiled, it was hard to say if it was from the speed at which he turned, or the glare he leveled her with. To her benefit, she recovered swiftly, adjusting the fabric on her shoulders with a shockingly white glove.

“Well, I’m looking for someone too, and I was hoping that maybe, possibly, we could look together?”

He loudly scoffed at her, finally finding it in himself to down the remains of his glass. From there, he slipped off the stool and bee-lined for the door, ignoring her calls as she followed close behind. Her tall stature meant her strides easily keep pace, though she struggled to keep her disguise in place.

“Hang on! Can’t we at least talk?”

“I have nothing to say to you.” He turned a corner, stepping over a rubble pile.

“You’re the only one who can help me!”

[image: a purple banner with the words Work in Progress Wednesday in a cursive font]

Work in Progress Wednesday

Creators: work on or post something from your WIP. This is your weekly reminder to get something down on paper (real or virtual). It’s also a chance to share your progress with your followers and give them a sneak peek of what’s to come!

Fans: leave a comment on an unfinished fic and let the writer know how much you love it. Reblog an artist’s sketch and let them know you can’t wait to see the final product. Send someone an ask cheering them on!

Feel free to repost this image!

[takebackdasyurid]

Week 0 - Introduction

Writing for @yourocsbackstory​ because I can. Lets try get a better grasp on our protagonist Mel Sireno shall we?

--------

“Please state your name for the records.”

“Oh, you must be new here.” 

“...I’m not sure why that’s relevant.”

The black haired teen twisted in her seat, kicking her legs onto the table, letter her arm dangle over the back, “Because if you weren’t new, you’d have a mile high stack of papers with my name alllll over them.”

The detective sighed, “Well I don’t. So please state your name.”

“Tch, Mel Sireno. Can I go now?”

The click of her tongue was from annoyance, but her blue eyes only showed boredom. 

“That’s not how this works. Now, I’m going to ask you a few questions regarding the incident at Electric Flowers last night. You don’t disagree with the statement that you were at the location between 12am and 2am?”

“Considering that’s when the party really gets going, no, I was there.”

“And did you get involved in an altercation between two patrons at around 1am?”

Mel gazed around the small room, tapping her toe.

“Uh, any altercation in particular?”

“The one resulting in a man in his thirties being stabbed.”

“Oh that one. Yeah. That was me.”

“And- what what?”

Mel sat up properly, grinning as she reached to her boot and retrieved a knife.

“I can re-enact it if you want!”

The Detective reeled, steeping out of stabbing range and pulling out his taser.

“Where did that come from?! We confiscated 6 knives from you when you were brought in!”

“Would have been 7 if I got the other one back from that mans leg. Now, can you lock me up already? I haven’t had a decent meal or shower in days!”

[lordsireno]

Last chapter of part 2 is finally here!!

(Part 3...oh junk now I gotta make part 3)

[lordsireno]

Hi, can i request a mini fic or smth? If you don‘t do requests then pls ignore this. But i really like your OCs for the organon and then i thought: at the end of the third game we saw a few organons escaping just after rufus fell. So what about this: some organons made it to elysium before the highboat was cut off. Up there they got the news that their Bailiff didn‘t make it. I‘d be interested in how the Maintenance Squad adjusts to the news and their new life on elysium. Either way id like to hear your thoughts on this

Anyways have a good day and love your work ^^

Hello anon please imagine me showering you with the burning love of a thousand suns because you deserve it and should have much happiness bestowed upon you.

ahem. Sorry, but you need to understand my joy at hearing you like my OCs and want to request something with them ;w; Much much happy and joy.

And what a wonderful idea too!! I've though about some post-game scenarios before, but specifically right after, with the maintenance squad? oooh prime character musing! As such, I've uploaded the first part of what I've written! I hope to go over each of the squads thoughts on the situation.

(Oh and it is following Fork's original backstory of never making it to the highboat, but we'll see if I change me mind ;) )

[lordsireno]

A little late but bringing back my Halloween fic for spooky season! Modern Kuvaq Brothers! Trick or treating! Not your normal werewolves!!

[lordsireno]

Fic WIP - Take me with You

Okay random decision but I'mah upload my unfinished fics here for people to enjoy/steal/complain about them not being finished.

First up: AU where after an attack on an Organon supply tower, a small Argus finds himself in Kuvaq meeting another child who looks just like him.

---------------

“Blasted Deponians…” Ulysses stumbled as the station shook again, “Where are they sourcing this equipment?”

He turned down another hall, finding his first path now on fire. The squad of Organon were close on his heels, though one was lagging.

“Pace up Nine-o-nine! And don’t you dare drop him!”

Said soldier hoisted the child in his arms higher, leaning back to keep his balance as he ran to catch up. Their stop here had only been to restock as they traveled from the cloning facility back to Portafisco, but now- Ulysses looked back at only for a moment to make sure Prototype A was secure. They’d put so much time and resources into developing the new clone base type, that he really didn’t want to waste anything more. They’d reached the gangway to the cruiser, and the crew was ready to leave as soon as they were aboard-

There was a mighty groan as something below broke, and the welded metal floor gave-way. Ulysses leapt into the cruiser, turning as he watched the Organon scattered, latching onto whatever they could to save themselves from the fall. Hands occupied, and with so much momentum from running, Nine-o-nine had to jump, sailing past in one desperate move to get aboard. Ulysses reached out-

-but the Organon fell.

As did a few of the others. The Prime Controller swore as he moved further inside, only two clones making it aboard with him as the cruiser departed. 

Nine-o-nine curled in on himself as he fell, twisting so he faced the sky. He was determined to follow his last order to the end. He was to protect the new clone until he was able to lead them to the final destruction on the planet-

The Deponians cheered as they watched metal and bodies hit the ground, running to the site when the dust settled. 

“One, two, three- Jimbo , that's five! Your new personal best!”

“Aww, I was sure I got more of them.”

The Deponians scoured the debris, kicking the bodies of the soldiers to loot their pockets.

“Yo Thommy! Check this!”

The shaggy man stood by his lanky friend, looking upon the Organon he’d just rolled over. There in their arms was a blue-haired bundle, injured and unconscious, but on closer observation still breathing.

“It’s a kid! Junk, they really were steal’n ‘em, even from the cradle! Bastards.” 

The lank man pried the arms away, collecting the child at arm's length. 

“Err, what should we do with it?”

A short woman emerged from the scrap with an arm full of copper, “Bet we could sell it! Richies will buy anything these days, why not a cute tot?”

The wide fellow Jimbo shook their head, “Ain’t got time for that, we’re scrappers not merchants. Just dump it at the next town.”

Thommy nodded, “Pack it up with the rest. If we’re quick with collection, we’ll reach Kuvaq in time for a drink!”

—

Gizmo tapped his cheek, collecting his thoughts.

The scrappers had been unceremonious in handing him the injured child, muttering something about ‘stolen by Organon’ before heading into Lonzo’s bar. As any good doctor would he’d cleaned and patched the bleeding, as well as wrapped a suspected fractured leg, but finally taking time to study the boy-

He looked eerily familiar. 

He didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but this wasn’t the first wasteland orphan he’d cared for. Only seeing what information the child itself could provide would assist him now, and he didn’t need to wait long. Only half an hour of monitoring, and he was showing signs of rousing, shifting and peering out through squinted eyes.

And then he bolted upright.

He scanned his surrounding, tense, gripping the bed sheets tight. He shifted to move further, but flinched as his bound leg lagged behind, though he still continued to move so Gizmo chose to intervene.

“Hey now, shh, it’s okay. You’re safe here, everythings okay.”

He knelt at the bedside, offering a reassuring gaze as the boy shuffled to put his back against the wall. After scanning the room once more, he finally looked at Gizmo, letting his breathing slow.

“....where…?”

“You’re safe here. My name is Gizmo, I’m a doctor, and this is my clinic in Kuvaq.”

He waited a moment to see if he reacted to his words, but his eyes just scanned the room again. He seemed disoriented, but maybe where he was from was different. Rumors of Organon kidnappings had been around all over for years, but what such an army would want with a child was hard to guess. His blue hair was in stark contrast to his dark skin and eyes, but genetic anomalies were not unheard of, and certainly not worth being taken for.

“What’s your name?”

He met his eyes again, carefully swallowing as he returned to a calm state. 

“...a… ”

“A?”

He said nothing further, instead looking over himself, poking at the bandages. 

‘Memory loss? A concussion perhaps?’

He went on alert as Gizmo stood, but thankfully remained still as the serviceman held out his hands.

“Are you hungry?”

He cycled the storage unit, finding a few nutrition bars that he opened and offered. When he didn’t take it, Gizmo set it on the bed, and walked away, moving to sit at his desk just out of sight. As he scribbled some notes, he could hear the rustling of the wrapper.

—

After a few hours, it got very quiet. 

The strange man was around the corner still, his breathing just audible, but the ruckus from the other side of the wall had died, leaving few signs of life in the area. 

A shivered. 

He was so used to being surrounded by others at all times, or having grand machinery working away 24/7, that the silence was deafening. He couldn’t get back to sleep like this, the stress of separation was weighing on his mind. With careful movement, he shuffled to the edge of the bed, and slipped off. The sudden weight on his left leg sent fire shooting through him, but he held his tongue as he was expected to, waiting out the pain. Then using whatever support was there, he hobbled around the corner, and out what he guessed was the front door, finding himself in a dim cavern, with moonlight illuminating one end. Outside of this, he could finally see where he was, the cobbled form of a Deponian settlement built into the hole below. 

Scanning the sky, he couldn’t see the monorail from here, so he couldn’t estimate how far he’d been taken. All settlements were under Organon authority though, so sooner or later a patrol would come by and he could go back to the Prime Controller. 

For now, he would bide his time until he could move around better, perhaps see what information he could get from them. He nodded to himself, reassuring his idea. It would be his own private investigation. He would be like a spy, just like in those radio shows. He’d have to get himself a weapon too, just in case.

With renewed purpose, he shuffled back to the clinic, climbing back into bed to formulate his plan.

—

It was breakfast when there came a knock at the clinic door. Gizmo had hoped it was the scrappers, looking to say more about his new patient, but instead it was his most common visitor. 

"I want'n'd beans!" 

Landgull sighed, clipping the back of the child's head,  "And in his efforts, he did that."

Gizmo knelt before Rufus, turning the boy's hands in his own, finding that while numerous, the cuts weren't deep. How he’d done this with a single can was a marvel.

"We'll get those patched up right away." 

He moved to the storage unit, though the Mayor sidled up beside him to start a conversation-

Which made Rufus feel left out. Usually Gizmo would pick him up and put him on the bed, fixing his owchies before (or while) his Dad talked about boring stuff. 

Licking the blood drips for now, he went over to the bed by himself, finding someone else had taken his spot! No wonder Gizmo had skipped the usual routine, but that wasn't good enough for Rufus. He could see there was still plenty of space up there, and at the head of the bed-

Blue, like the sky as it was becoming dark. 

He reached out for the colour, only to have a hand snap around his wrist. The owner of the blue was facing him now, staring hard into his eyes. He seemed frozen for a moment, before he noticed the blood and let go, wiping his hand off. Now unhindered, Rufus clambered up beside the new person, whose face looked kinda familiar. They shifted away, but also looked him over, seeming confused.

“‘m Rufus.” He pointed to himself, smiling.

The other boy hesitated, blinking a few times.

“Wats yours?”

He carefully opened his mouth, “....A…”

His brows knitted, “Ah-ey? That’s not a name. My name is Rufus. Ruuu. Fussss. And your name iiiiis?”

He stared harder, giving a quick glance to the adults, before sitting up taller.

“…Argus.”

Rufus took his hand and shook it, “What a boring name. Hey, why do you look like that?”

The slick blood made it easy to pull from his grip, “Like… what?”

“Like…” He gestured forward, then grabbed at his own cheeks, realising, “Me?”

Argus tilted his head, “You… don’t know?”

“Rufus!” Said boy flinched at the shout, turning back toward his Father, “What have I told you about sitting still and not harassing others?”

Gizmo put a hand on Landgull’s shoulder, “It’s fine. I was actually hoping to introduce you both. This boy was handed in by some scrappers last night, and I wanted to ask your thoughts.”

As the doctor moved to bandage Rufus’ arms, Landgull scrutinised the child, who squared their shoulders in response. 

“Hmm…Is the resemblance your query?”

“Uncanny, isn’t it? I don’t mean to speculate, but with the circumstances-”

“You think they may be related.” He stroked his beard, “Twins potentially?”

Rufus’ face lit up, and he wriggled from Gizmo’s hold to wrap himself around his doppelganger.

“Me and Argy could be twinnies?!”

“Argy?” Gizmo question.

The blue-haired boy didn’t say anything, simply testing how tight he’d been grabbed.

“Well, regardless of the situation he’ll need to be homed somewhere-”

“OH! ME! He can stay with me!” Rufus threw up an arm, then caught sight of Landgulls’ stare, “Please Dad? Come ooooon! Please please pleaaaase!”

“The orphanage has plenty of beds.” Landgull said. 

“Noooooo!!” 

“In his current state I don’t think he should be left unsupervised…” Gizmo reasoned.

Rufus squeezed harder, though Landgull still easily pried his arms away, picking him up and dumping him aside on the floor. He moved to clinging to his pant leg, droning a continuous ‘no’. Ignoring him, Landgull returned to the new child, still considering.

“Do you know how to follow instructions boy?”

He nodded.

“Do you understand you would be sharing half of everything with him?”

They both glanced at Rufus. Another nod.

“Do you understand you will have to earn your keep? That you will not be awarded any special privileges for being in my care?”

Gizmo grimaced, always off put by the Mayor's harsh nature, “Is this really necessary-?”

“Will you be well behaved, quiet, and follow orders?”

The boy sat as tall as he could, matching that stern stare.

“Yes, Sir.”

—

Argus was at a loss.

All his late night planning had gone out the window with one encounter giving him too many new variables and uncertainties.

One. There was nothing else that Rufus could be other than a clone. Almost certainly a prototype like himself. But why was he out here in some Deponian town? Was he some sleeper agent? Spy? …misplaced?

Two. He'd given Rufus his name. Why? Almost no one used his given name. Yes it was more practical for civilian situations, but he just never thought to use it. Was it because he’d been given the other clone's name?

Three. This Landgull reminded him all too much of Ulysses. It would make him easy to please, but left uncertainty in how he could react to things. He'd have to watch himself.

Coiled in Gizmo’s hold, he watched the two who he would be spending his time with. Rufus was talking away, clearly ignored, while the Mayor stared ahead. While waiting for a patrol to come by was still his best bet at leaving the settlement, his housing and care while injured would potentially hinder him from making contact.

////

“Do you like it here?”

Rufus looked up, tilting his head. 

“Well I mean, my dad’s the mayor, and mum makes really nice food."

“But do you actually like living here? In this junk heap?”

Rufus paused at that, pensively looking out, fiddling with his hands.

Argus tried to collect his words, “What... What if I said... That I could get rid of this whole place. Get rid of all of Deponia, while we sit and watch up on Elysium.”

His eyes quickly lit up, “Like, the Elysium up in the sky?”

“Yeah. Think about it. No more time-out cage. No more being forgotten at meal time. No more being ordered around. No wondering when you’ll finally die. Just days of paradise far away from here.”

Rufus leant in closer, resting his head on Argus’ shoulder as he grinned up at him. 

“And we can hang out all the time?”

Argus looked away, but rested his own head atop of Rufus’.

“Every day.”

“Sounds fun! Let’s do it.”

“I’ll get everything ready. You just have to wait for me Rufus.”

…

The pain in his leg was negligible at this point, meaning Argus found himself able to finally end his mission here. 

Thanks to Rufus’ knowledge and a few long, pointy tools from his stash, breaking into the Mayor's office was simple. From there Rufus helped him clamber up onto the desk and access the communicator. The operator didn’t seem to care that someone other than the Mayor was using it, and swiftly transferred him to the Organon communications hub, where a few memorised access codes and a succinct report were passed on for the Prime Controller. 

Now all he had to do was wait.

In the meantime, they played more Junk Knights, battling a ferocious griffon to claim the treasure from its nest. 

[lordsireno]

VsDestiny - RvB/Destiny AU info dump

Okay so yonks ago I said I'd info dump on the VsDestiny (RvB/Destiny AU) - Well better late than never- I've dug up the old doc :'D @randomfandoms153 this is basically for you because your tags reignighted my heart <3

The setting is basically RvB shenanigans in the Destiny world. The Red Clan and the Blue Clan live on the outskirts of the last city, since the Vanguard considers them too destructive to have in the tower (They can come in for bounties and the postmaster). They spend their days shooting each other in crucible or lazing about- until these 'Freelancers' bring along a bunch of drama. Project Freelancer is what emerged from the ashes of a failed offshoot of the Clovis Bray company, where the Director attempted to artificially make Guardians.

More details under the cut! Oh and other art can be found under #VsDestiny .

Reds:

Sarge (Titan class) is the foremost expert on Exos, being one of the top engineers from the Clovis offshoot in his previous life. He was brought on as a soldier but found to have great skill with robotics. These days his work is primarily subconscious, where he glazes over when in repair mode. Standard robots like frames are his passion to work on, and his favourite creation is Lopez, who he built from scraps. He’s always looking for bigger and better firearms to add onto his eventual robot army! His ghost is called 'Shotgun'.

Simmons (Warlock class) is an experimental Exo type made by the offshoot, and its partly why he’s so drawn to Sarge. He appears human until his first death on the fireteam, where the fake skin on his left cheek does not regenerate. The sight of exposed metal begins to cause mental degradation (DER), but it’s thankfully stopped by Grif and the antics of the other Reds. His Ghost is called 'Ghost'

Grif (Hunter Class) has the highest death count, solely thanks to Sarge. He uses invisibility to get out of chores, and has tired to use Blade Barrage to light an oven. His Ghost is called 'Oreo'

Donut (Warlock Class) enjoys creating a fashion and loadout for every occasion, and has a scary amount of grenade stacks. His Ghost is called 'Little O'

Lopez (Wears Sarge's titan armor) - While technically only classed as a frame, he is intelligent and made with Exo parts.

Blue Clan:

Church (Hunter Class) awoke outside the city one day, and regretfully attracted other rouge guardians. He is an experimental Exo type and looked human up until his 'death', where upon he spoke through his Ghost Alpha (because it houses his true core) until Sarge fixed him.

Tucker (Hunter Class) While out patrolling, Tucker stumbled upon a young Eliksni. Unable to bring himself to kill it, and not willing to leave it alone in the elements (No other Fallen had been sighted in the area for months) he brings it back to Blue Base. Church complains about the alien smell, but after dealing with Caboose’s own attachment to alien things, didn’t fight about keeping it. It is dubbed Junior. His Ghost is 'Crunchbite'

Caboose (Titan Class) Has a strong connection to alien tech. No one knows how Caboose managed to sweet talk a Fallen Walker into coming home and joining the fireteam. Caboose claims he and Sheila have a special connection. He has the highest Guardian kill count, mostly thanks to Church. His Ghost is called 'Freckles'

Texas (Titan Class) is as terrifying a fighter and an enigma of a person as always. Likes to challenge people to 1v1 matches.

Freelancer:

The Director picked up the remains of the Clovis offshoot and merged it with his own plan to make artificial guardians for the universal defence force. His first creation was Alpha, an experimental exo with a copy of his personality. The ghost ‘alpha’ is actually just the personality core. 

His experiment forces Freelancers to bond to Fragments of the original Alpha, killing them, which links them to ‘the light’ and allows them to revive. However, the actual process isn’t as perfect as assumed. 

The Fragments are weaker than standard Ghosts and must remain out during the full revival. They can be destroyed by ordinary weapons, and unless requested, won’t heal injuries over time. 

When a Fragment revives its Freelancer, it temporally overrides their consciousness to allow the body to be moved from further harm, and to piece back together their mind. The more adjusted the Fragment, the faster this occurs and lets the Freelancer to resume control. Similarly, the less adjusted Fragments are prone to remaining in control even after recovery. As well, the more times the Freelancer dies, the more time it takes to revive them, as their minds begin to dissipate and have to be wholly supported by the Fragments to continue to live. 

York, North and Wyoming all seem fine, but when it comes to Maine the issue becomes apparent as Sigma puppets him much longer. When Carolina requests two, they fight over her revival. 

Washington was the last Guardian made in the program, before its complete collapse. His Deaths are: Original bonding, the MoI crash, Recovery One, and saving Tucker. His Fragment is Epsilon, and after the MoI crash, he refuses to accept its existence. He doesn’t summon it, using old school tech like flashlights and radios, and will always physically get in and out of his ship. If asked Wash only offers the explanation that he isn’t on good terms with his ghost. 

After his third death at the hands of South, he remains as Epsilon for two days. 

When he saves Tucker, the Blues learn of how Epsilon puppets Washington after death. Tucker is creeped out by how only Epsilon speaks, and how like Church it is. Caboose believes that Church is trying to communicate with him and tells Epsilon their early adventures. 

And thiiiis was as far as I got apparently! Feel free to expand/alter if anything takes your interest!

[lordsireno]

Don't trust the new guys

(OC based AU where an Elysian volunteer and Deponian conscript (who are both terrible people) decide to mess with the soldiers of the Organon army)

(TW: injury and death, assholes committing murder and insurrection)

“Lulu! Buuuddy!”

The Organon officer sighed, not looking towards the one who had called his loathed nickname. He wouldn’t give her that satisfaction, which meant she came right up to his visor and poked him in the mechanical mustache.

“Aww come on, don’t ignore me. I came here because I have a gift!”

Lutteral stood from his chair, easily towering over her seeing as she was no taller than an Organon. He hadn’t left Elysium and joined this army to make friends, and the experience had only cemented his dislike for clones. But he had also discovered something else; he disliked Deponians just as much. Unrefined, filthy, crude, and thinking themselves oh-so-important when they managed to get beyond the level of ‘hostage factory worker’ to ‘glorified clone baby-sitter’. Sireno was no different, showing off their bland uniform at every chance, pushing their power beyond what Prime Authority authorised. She was a pain, and he wanted as little to do with her as possible. 

“What could you possibly give me?”

She grinned, “A firing range and a squad of Organon no one will miss?”

That got his attention, though he tried not to let it show.

------------------

“Atteeeen-tion! Officer on deck!”

As Sireno extravagantly strode into the room, ten Organon snapped to alert, saluting the two. Lutteral looked over the clones, thankful his disdain was hidden by his helmet, which they all seemed to be lacking. Seeing the same face creeped him out, and it didn’t help that this group were identical in all details, save for one who had a single strand of hair out of place.

Sireno elbowed him, snickering as she whispered, “Batch 420. They’re pre-protos who have Elysium service clone programming leftover in their brains. Honestly pretty useless as soldiers.”

“And?”

She turned to the pre-prepared gun rack behind them, handing over Lutteral’s preferred sniper and taking a simple handgun for herself. 

“But they should make fun targets once they start running.”

The Organon shifted, looking confused. 

‘Well it has been sometime since my last practice session.’

With a shrug he moved to the back corner of the room and inspected his gun, loading it, taking up position on one knee. Sireno cocked her own weapon, as worried and panicked looks were shared between the clones.

“Ready… Aim… Fire!”

–

There was no reason for the sound of gunfire, as there were no bookings in the range for the rest of the day. But Argus could hear it from his office, and he was determined to find who thought they could break the rules.

What he hadn’t expected to find was a room of wounded and dead Organon.

“What the devil is going on here?!”

The shooting stopped, as Sireno turned with a half hearted salute. 

“Yo Sir, just doing some decommissioning.”

He scanned over the bodies riddled with bullet holes, a few missing limbs where the caliber had blown them clear off. 

“This- This isn’t protocol, this is senseless killing!”

Sireno scoffed, rolling her eyes at the Bailiff, “Use them as training, or throw them away? I think one seems more useful than the other.”

He knelt by one of the still conscious Organon, though they were clutching their wounds for dear life. Argus recognised him as 426, making the batch here the ones who had come in for reassignment, not destruction.

“Who authorised this? Who ordered you to be here?”

Lutteral had quickly hid his rifle behind his back, awkwardly shuffling towards the door.

“Just for the record, I was forced into this barbaric act.”

Argus ignored him, “This is just the reason why Ulysses shouldn’t let outsiders in our ranks.”

As he continued to curse Prime Authorities decision, 426 noticed the shadow that fell over both of them, and instinctively lept into action.

“Don’t you dare!” 

Sireno laughed, grabbing the clone's wrist just as he had grabbed her own knife wielding one. 

“That’s not how you speak to a superior!”

Already weak from injury, she easily flipped him over, pinning him to the ground before driving the knife into his neck. 426 shouted, though it was drowned out by the sudden gunshot whizzing by her face. Sireno spun, throwing a fist into Argus’ forearm, causing him to drop the gun. It didn’t stop his momentum, fist flying toward the Deponain’s nose, though she ducked forward then pushed up, driving her skull into his chin. Recoiling backwards, she drew a new knife from her boot and charged forward, giving Argus only second to deflect the blade from his neck. In that moment, he had height on her, and drove an elbow down on her back. Sireno dropped to the floor with a thud, and he pinned her arm.

“I will have you both recycled for this-!”

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

Lutteral swung the rifle like a bat, landing a clear strike against the side of Argus’ helmet, sending him sprawling across the floor, unconscious. 

Sireno coughed, “Ha! Nice hit! You got little league teams in that shiny city?”

“What is wrong with you?!” He screamed, “You realise what we’ve done here?!”

She righted herself, brushing herself off as she looked around the room, “Uh, made a mess?”

“The biggest mess. The Bailiff- oh by the Elders I just assaulted Ulysses stupid favourite clone. My career is over!”

“Oh shut it you baby. You act as though this isn’t your first time committing a bit of treason. You’ll be fine if you follow my instructions. We just gotta get rid of the evidence.”

Sireno stretched, before bending to attempt to lift the Bailiff. 

“Urgh, um, a little help?”

“In making things worse?!”

“Just fucking lift him! There's a trash shoot like two metres down the hall.”

Lutteral wrung his hands, before stooping down to collect the Bailiff’s ankles. It took thirty minutes to move all the bodies, wrangling them into the small hatch being the most laborious part, and then another ten to clean up the blood to the point where it didn’t lead back to them.

“... So now what?” Lutteral questioned as he looked around the mostly clean room.

“Wanna grab lunch?”

He clipped the Deponian on the back of their head, “We just killed a member of Prime Authority. Someones going to start asking questions, and it’ll probably be the Controller himself.”

“So? We play dumb. I’m some lowly junk scab and you’re a prissy sky boy, why would we be involved with the Bailiff? Maybe he ran off with that defective clone squad? Or- oh! Maybe they kidnapped him and are going to offer him as an offering to earn favour with Deponians?”

He crossed his arms, a heavy breath hissing through his filters.

“You think they still have any platypus on the menu?”

“That’s the spirit!”

-

426 groaned. He hurt all over, but it was probably for the best when it seemed to be dividing the pain across his whole body, rather than focusing it just on the holes he’d been given. 

‘Junk- shot and stabbed in one day. At least I’m conscious… and alive, unlike-’

Snapping his eyes open, he scanned his surroundings. The landscape was that of the Deponian hills, scattered with trash and corpses. The rest of his batch. Flashes of the events just past made his wounds ache, but he scanned the group further, his blood running cold when he spotted the red cape caught on some old fencing.  

[lordsireno]

Deponia characters reactions if I served them the shitty pancakes I made this morning -

Rufus: They're sweet, he'd happily eat. Though as he picks out the banana I silently judge him. He knows they are inevitable.

Cletus: Would turn his nose up and demand to see the chef. When I point to myself he's not surprised, though when I refuse to bring him anything else be begrudgingly picks up a fork.

Argus: Doesn't try as he expects I'm trying to poison him. I don't blame him. I would if I could.

Bozo: Hesitant and first, but praises my efforts and says that using what I know I can improve next time. His kind words bring tears to my eyes.

Toni: Frowns at their misshapen form and slightly burnt edges, but eats. She never voices it, but I see in her eyes she didn't mind them.

Goal: Sees my misery and eats them out of pity, forcing a smile as she chews through the simultaneously over and undercooked batter. This does not make me feel better.

Gizmo: Labels them a health hazard and disposes of them in the correct manner, but it doesn't matter because Rufus will still fish them from the trash.

Doc: I do not see him eat, but they are gone when I look again. He does not make comment, and I do not ask.

[lordsireno]

I can't stop thinking about the dream I had where I went on a quest to find two new limited edition duo flavour Doritos and when I finally found a half eaten bag they were called GRIMMONS FLAVOUR.

IT WAS COVERED IN QUOTES FROM SARGE PROMOTING RED TEAM (because you could vote for your favourite) AND IF YOU ACTUALLY LOOKED AT THE TWO FLAVOURS THEY WERE 'CHEESE' AND 'SOMETHING ACTUALLY NICE FROM A CHEF'

By elimination the other one must have been Blue team themed but why the hell did I dream of GRIMMONS DORITOS???

[lordsireno]

"Hey Monkey how's the shipping fic going? "

[lordsireno]

🌹!!

“Oh no no, you remember the vent incident. We are NOT redoing that. ” 500 shook his head at the memory, avoiding 426’s pointed look.

[lordsireno]

🌹

"Well first I want to ask what the hell makes you attracted to him. He's managed to hit on me, then insult me in the same sentence." "So he's shown interest in you? Hmm I could use that to my advantage."

[lordsireno]

🌹

Rufus finally tuned into the conversation, “Hu? 426? 42…. Four… wait, Forky? Sad looking guy, obsessed with a certain Bailiff?"

[lordsireno]

RvB - You live with your choices

AU where Dr Leonard L. Church has a curse. The people he connects with... Are bound to live long lives. 

((Trope reversal of 'everyone I love is dead' where starting from Allison and somehow progressing into Freelancer, everyone survives the most outrageous encounters.))

((Warnings: Descriptions of blood and injury, the Director being twisted as usual))

“When he thinks back, it started with Allison.

The love of his life was a monster on the battlefield, and she’d gone to hell and back multiple times, killing and surviving against all odds. He always fretted that one day her luck would run out, but her smile chased those fears away. Then the day comes when he gets the letter; MIA, presumed KIA due to the overwhelming force her squad faced. He mourns her and wonders how he’ll explain it to their daughter.

Except he doesn’t have to explain. Only a few brief days later they get the news that she’s alive. Bloodied, broken, but inexplicably alive. Her survival is hailed as a miracle, and Leonard accepts that as the truth. While she recovers, the family spend some time together.

One day, as Carol does her best to balance without training wheels, her bike runs away with her into oncoming traffic. Her scream haunts her parents, as does the sight of the bloody mess on the road. She’s rushed to hospital, where after surgery the Doctors breath the word miracle again, and the doubt beings to creep in.

And doubt in miracles only grows as time goes on. A family holiday sends them over a cliff, crushed in their own car as the bitter night plunges below zero, however when they’re found the next morning, they’re all alive. Allison goes back to active service and has training equipment crush her. Leonard goes back to his lab work and gets electrocuted. Carol encounters a bear on a school hike.

They survive. They survive through so much that miracle doesn’t even begin to cover it. Not even a guardian angel would go to this much work. An idea beings to stir in Leonard’s head, but he knows funding doesn’t exist for wild theories. But there is funding for the next magic bullet for the war effort, and with his research, he successfully pitches the idea of Project Freelancer.

He collects a range of soldiers, assigns them code names, and begins testing his theory behind the scenes.

Team A works directly with him. He gives them personal briefings, observes their training, gives them feedback, and overall forms a personal connection with each of the soldiers. Team B does the same under Allison. They do missions, go into combat under the worst conditions, and what The Director sees as proof beings to show up. Both teams are surviving the impossible, while grunts dying left and right. However every so often someone from Team B was dying as well, leaving the Director to assume Allison’s training was their survivability factor.

Meanwhile, Alpha is busy operating the MoI, keeping the ship functional and overseeing staff schedules. One night while running diagnostics, Alpha finds a Freelancer using the empty hallways as their own personal skate park. He watches him and can’t help but make a sarcastic comment when they fall. The following hours are filled with jovial bickering, and then the offer from Agent Washington to let Alpha into his AI slot to experience skateboarding. They part ways only when the new shift starts to wander along.

A mission comes along that has Washington, Idaho and two grunts together on the Pelican, joking and playing 5 things. The Director asks Alpha, who is remotely flying the ship, to set it to land. As the system changes, the ship pitches and goes into freefall, and Alpha panics. Wash checks to cockpit to find no pilot, as Alpha checks, and finds the ship was faulted on purpose. He questions the Director, who is uncaring about the peril the agents are in, and freaks out when it hits the ground and the life signs flatline. Alpha logs off and only with a passing through does the Director send out a clean up crew. Except after some time passes, a distress call comes in. The Director hears that its one of the downed agents, miraculously alive. And when recovery gets to them, the word miracle crops up once again.

The Director is perplexed, yes there are outlying cases of people surviving against the odds, but why now? He remembers Alpha’s reaction and pulls up the activity logs to find why the AI was concerned about a low ranked agent. As Washington recovers on the MoI, the Director lets Alpha speak with him, but only him. There’s a new theory to test.

Washington is put through the ringer, sent on suicide missions. His orders come from Alpha, and the AI hates itself for it. Wash survives and survives and survives, but the act of living is getting harder with little support. The Director is ecstatic with the results, further evidence that the immortal curse is linked to ‘Leonard Church’ but not in a physical sense. Then the stress leads to Alpha’s fragmenting, so the Director moves to test these lesser AI pieces.

Eventually, the ethics of Project Freelancer start coming to light, and even Allison and Carolina are feeling that this has gone too far. The Chairman has begun an investigation. The Councillor is pulling away. Everything begins to collapse in on itself, but the Director can’t let go.

He organises to hide Alpha away, tucked in some end of system box canyon, watched by one of his agents and recorded by a dumb AI. He want’s to see if even the twisted remains of the AI could pass on his curse, and how far it can spread.