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softboywriting · 4 years ago

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Almost Lost You | Ex Machina | Nathan Bateman

Summary: It takes Nathan nearly dying to realize he loves you, but he needs to know you feel the same and will take some unnecessary steps to find out instead of just asking you. [TW: Blood] [Following the ending events of the film] [Light Angst] [Fluff] [New AI] [TW: Near Death Situation] [Swearing] [Sexual Innuendos] [F!ReaderxNathan]

Word Count: 5.1k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Fear. It's not something you would think was in Nathan's repertoire of emotions. In fact in the last year you've been living at the facility and testing his AI with him, you've never even caught a hint of it. But now, you can see he is no God. He is a man. He is a man and he bleeds like a man. The terror in his eyes as he looks to you desperately behind the glass door to his bedroom is not something you would soon forget. His white sweater is staining crimson, nearly black with the contrast of the bright hall lights.

Beyond the glass, mere feet from you is the remains of Kyoko, her face torn apart, system core damaged by a blow from a weight bar. You watched it all go down, stared in horror, screaming to warn him about Kyoko approaching with the knife. He couldn't hear you behind the soundproofed door. What would have happened if you had gone out there with him? Would Kyoko have attacked you too? What about Ava? He saved your life in retrospect. Perhaps you could have stopped them both. Perhaps you'd be dead. Perhaps now you wouldn't be watching your boss, your friend, the guy you've come to care far too much about, bleed to death.

Nathan raises his hand to you, and you lay yours on the glass. He mouths something that you can't quite make out. You'll never hear him behind this door and you've no idea how to override the system and take it out of lock down. He points and you look back at the computer on the desk behind you.

"Computer?" You mouth and he nods.

He makes a sign with his hand and you suddenly are grateful he was insistent that you learn to sign the alphabet when you took the job as his assistant. It was for just such an occasion. Should one of you get locked in a room, or to communicate with him on cams when you're around the AI without speaking. He holds up three fingers. That means three words. You turn and scramble to find a sticky note and a marker on his desk before returning to the window.

You bang on the glass and he lifts his head slowly. Your heart is pounding, he's fading fast. Losing him is not an option and at this point you'd rather be in his place.

Nathan carefully spells out the code to unlock the facility. B E A M. M E. UP. He's such a Star Trek nerd. It figures that would be his override code.

You get up and pull up the system control program and type in his passcode. Sure enough the lights return to normal and the door latch clicks open. You race from the chair, shoving the door open and sinking down beside him. "You're a fucking nerd."

"Yeah thanks." He barely chuckles. "I'm going to die."

"No you're not." You tremble as you take his hand. It's cold, he's cold all over. Skin turning pale. "Nathan, listen to me you're not going to die like this."

"Honey, we're two hours from anyone else. I'm going to die. If you move me the bleeding will get worse. I can't walk, you can't carry me."

You cup his cheek. "I'll carry you. I-I'll pick you up and we can call emergency services. Hold on just a little longer."

Nathan lays his hand on your shoulder. "You were a good assistant. I know I was a pain in the ass and I told you that you sucked. But you didn't. You're very smart. You're the best I had."

"Shut up." You're crying. "Shut up and stop being nice to me!"

"You want me to be mean?"

"No, just shut up. I want you to stop acting like you're dying."

Nathan glaces down at his torso. "I got two holes in me. I don't know what's been punctured."

"Please." You stand and look down the hall. The landline phone is in his den. "Stay here."

"I'm not moving too fast honey."

"Obviously. I'm going to call for emergency services."

"Mmm. Do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Move Kyoko and Ava before they get here. I don't need to deal with questions."

"W-what?"

"I haven't exactly gone public with the AI."

You stand and pinch the bridge of your nose. "Nathan, if I don't leave them out here the medical staff will think I stabbed you."

"And you think they will believe that a robot did it instead? No. We will say there was an intruder, they attacked me and you hid. Break the glass in the kitchen from outside and make a mess as a cover."

"Jesus fucking Christmas. Okay whatever, just shut up and stay alive okay?" He gives a weak thumbs up and you go to the den to call out for help. You're going to call emergency services and he's going to get life flighted out and he is going to live. He's going to survive if it's the last thing you do.

_____________________

Nearly a month later and Nathan finally gets to go home. You haven't been back since you left in the helicopter with him. It took three bags of blood to keep him alive long enough to get him into the hospital. The doctors said he was lucky to be alive at all and it was a miracle he made it over four hours with wounds like his. Nothing was damaged internally. That's the crazy part. Kyoko just missed his heart by a mere five millimetres. The other wound just grazed his stomach but didn't cause any irreparable damage.

You spent every day at the hospital with him. He tried to get you to go home, to leave him there but you couldn't do that, you love him too much. Without you he had no one. His parents passed years ago. No siblings. No grandparents. You're his family. It's sad.

"You know we have to go to physical therapy twice a week." You say as the helicopter flies toward the facility, trees zipping by beneath you. "That means long flights in and out."

"I know." He rests his head back on the seat. "My work is there though. I can't just relocate without it."

"I haven't been back since we left that night."

"I know."

You shift your feet against the duffel bag of stuff you've been living out of for thirty three days. "It's going to be a mess."

Nathan chuckles. "I'm going to have to get new carpet."

"Yeah."

"How good are you at home renovation?"

"Um...I painted a room once?"

He opens his eyes and looks at you. It's so nice to see that playful spark. The memory of his face, scared to death and bleeding out, it haunts your dreams. "I guess we'll learn to lay carpet together."

"You're not doing anything of the sort."

"I'll supervise."

"Nathan. Just hire someone."

"I'd have to kill them. I can't just let people in the facility."

"Nathan!"

He raises his eyebrows. "You think I'm joking?"

You shake your head. "I'll put in your stupid floor. No Hitman needed. You're ridiculous."

"Careful. I am careful."

"Oh? Careful enough to get yourself sta-"

"Hey!"

You narrow your eyes. "Speaking of which. Will you rebuild them?"

"No. I think I'll try for a male model."

"Why?"

"For you."

"For me? What the fuck do I want with a robot?"

"Companionship. Besides, I've only made females. It's time to change it up. If I'm to release them to the world someday surely people will want all options available."

"Why not make it non gendered. Just a body, no determinate features?"

"That's not fun. You'll like him. I've already picked out a name."

You roll your eyes. "Of course you have."

Nathan taps his head. "I've got all the plans laid out right here."

"Mmmhmm. Gonna make him fuckable too? Like you did the others?"

"Damn right." He licks his lip and grins at you. "I know you're curious."

You would never admit it but you are. You will definitely not be doing anything remotely sexual with the robot male. Absolutely off the table. If Nathan thinks you're gonna do anything he had best start finding a new assistant. You have put up with enough. ______________________

It takes Nathan no time to build this new AI. Everything is all at his disposal. He's made several. All it takes a few adjustments to the body forms, simple enough, some wiring changes and such. New downloads for his AI system to make them male presenting. It's all of a week of almost non stop work but by Tuesday you're being called to the lab to see his pride and joy.

You push in the door to the lab and enter the darkened entry way. It's almost midnight. You were nearly asleep when Nathan came on over the intercom system demanding you come to the lab. You wipe your eyes, sleep heavy in them. The bright blue lights blind you as you step into his work area.

"I'm here. Where are you?"

"In the back! I'm just making some adjustments!"

You wander past the tables strewn with parts and pieces and notes and diagrams. Mostly Greek to you. "I was almost asleep. This had better be g-"

Nathan steps aside and sitting on the table is another Nathan. No beard but a fine five o'clock shadow, short dark hair. If you didn't know better you'd think Nathan was pranking you with his own twin. But you do know that he is an only child. Which, how very much like Nathan to make the male in his own image. How self absorbed.

"Say hello." Nathan, the real Nathan, says as he gestures to the AI.

"Why does he look like you?"

"Who better to look like?"

You shake your head and walk up to the AI. You look closely, carefully. The hair looks real, the facial hair looks real. Like Kyoko he has skin head to toe. He's covered at the waist by a sheet and you presume Nathan is doing so as some sort of ego inflating reveal of what is probably an exact replica of his own dick. But that aside, the AI physically is flawless.

"Tell her your name." Nathan says.

"I'm Nate." The AI says with a soft smile. "Nice to meet you."

You look over at your boss. "You called him Nate? You couldn't even give him his own name?"

"He has his own name. My name is Nathan. His is Nate."

"You're a jerk."

Nate extends his hand to you. "What is your name?"

"That's a secret." You smile slyly at Nathan and look back to Nate.

"A secret name? How intriguing. Nathan, do you know her name?"

Nathan chuckles. "Yes, but it seems she wants to keep it to herself now. Maybe you will have to earn it from her."

"Earn? Like a prize. Your name is a game?"

You giggle. "Sure. I'm going to go to bed now. I will probably see you two tomorrow?"

"Perhaps."

"Super." You say sarcastically. This is going to be interesting. You've tested his AI many times, spending hours talking with Ava and Kyoko. They were essentially the same AI in the end. This one could be different. You look back as you stand in the doorway. Nate waves to you and you see Nathan turn to look at you, giving a thumbs up. Here you go. Getting in too deep. You should have taken that desk job at the Hilton hotel.

_____________________

"Where is Nate?"

"He is in the test room." Nathan brings his glass of orange juice to his lips. "Why?"

You shrug. "Just wondering."

"Curious?"

"I suppose." You sit back and push your mostly empty breakfast plate away. "It's just weird you introduced me and then just never said anything else again. It's been a week."

Nathan raises his eyebrows. "I've been fine tuning him. Making sure all the eggs are in the basket."

"Uh huh."

"You'll see him soon enough. I've got your first date set on the calendar."

"Date? You mean my first session."

Nathan smirks. "Sure."

"I'm not dating your robot. Get fucked Nathan."

"Oh I hope to."

"Too bad your fuck toys tried to kill you so you had to decommission them."

"You assume I wouldn't fuck Nate."

"You're disgusting."

"Everyone wants to know what they fuck like. Of course I'd fuck myself."

You roll your eyes. "How conceited. By the way, no, not everyone would fuck themselves. You're disgusting. And Nate is not you."

"Isn't he though?"

"No." You push away and stand beside the table, gathering your dishes. "He might have your face but he doesn't have this fucked up brain." You tap your glass to his head and he scowls.

Nathan stands and follows you into the kitchen. "You think he's going to be better than me?"

"No one said that. I just said he isn't you. I know damn well you can't download your consciousness into an AI. So Nate might be your twin but he isn't you."

He just hums. That's it. No more or less. Just a little hmm. It pisses you off. For some reason you're defensive of Nate and you barely know him yet. He's a robot. He's not real. Not...alive.

_____________________

"Good morning."

You sit up and rub yours eyes, vision clearing to that of Nathan sitting on the end of your bed. No. It's Nate. "What are you doing in my room?"

"Nathan sent me. He said that I should wake you up."

You glare at the camera in the corner of the room. The one Nathan claims is for security purposes only. "This is my private space. You're not welcome."

Nate looks to where you are looking. "Technically the facility belongs to Nathan and this room is borrowed by yourself."

"It's still my space. Nathan! I know you're watching! This is not okay!"

Nate stands and moves across the room to stand in front of your closet.

You get off the bed and go to the door to go find Nathan. If he thinks letting Nate roam the facility unchecked is okay, he's gone mad. None of the AI have been allowed as such except for Kyoko. Obviously we see how that ended up. "Nathan! You better show you're stupid fucking-"

Nathan steps out of the kitchen and you glare. "Did you get my messenger dove?"

"Messenger...Nate? You are serious about letting him just roam free?"

"Yep."

"Did you forget what happened with Kyoko or?"

Nathan pushes his glasses up. "I thought you'd like him to wake you up. You seem pretty taken with him."

"We've barely spoken."

"Yet you were curious about him, defending him and his unlikeness to me. Tell me, why?"

"I don't know. Get him out of my bedroom."

"Talk to him."

"No. I want to be in the test room. I've never been one on one like this besides Kyoko. It's weird and I don't feel safe."

"I promise he is safe. Touch him, talk to him. Seriously, I want to run this experiment differently than the others."

You look down the hall to your bedroom door that's wide open. "What if something happens?"

"Nothing will happen. Go on. I promise he isn't going to hurt you."

You swallow harshly. That's what you're precisely afraid of. Nate could easily overpower you and who knows how strong he is. You take a deep breath and head back to your room. This is what you signed up for. This is your job.

_____________________

"Where were you born?" Nate asks you when you walk in the bedroom.

"Um, I was born here in Alaska."

Nate walks beside your bed and you take a seat awkwardly. "I don't know where I was born."

"You weren't born. You were made. Here, by Nathan."

"Oh, yes. I suppose it's strange to think of being made and not born. What should I call you? I still do not know your name. Nathan would not tell me."

"Whatever you like. I’m still going to keep my name a secret. Names hold too much power."

"Kitten." Nate looks proud of himself. "I will call you Kitten."

You can't help the little chuckle that comes out. "Why Kitten?"

"I don't know. I just chose a random name from pet names I found in a Blue Book search just now."

"Alright. I'll take it."

Nate sits beside you. "Do I look like Nathan?"

"Yes."

"I thought I might. I've not seen myself in a mirror yet."

You stand and grab Nate's hand. It's surprisingly warm to the touch. "Come with me." You take him to your bathroom and stand in front of the mirror. "That's you."

Nate leans in and turns his head side to side. "Am I handsome?"

You cannot stifle the giggle that bubbles out. "Yeah, you're pretty handsome."

"Are you attracted to Nathan?"

"In a way I suppose yes."

"In a way? Does that mean you are only attracted to part of him?"

You sit on the toilet seat and sigh. "It's hard to explain. Nathan is visually attractive to me, and mentally. His intellect is outstanding and I'm fascinated by his brain."

"But?"

"But...he can be harsh. He can be cold and unyielding and stubborn. He is difficult oftentimes. I think he struggles to express himself."

Nate looks at you, staring to the point you feel uneasy.

"What? Is something wrong?"

"You are beautiful."

"Oh. Thanks?"

"You are welcome but it was not a favor. No need for thanking."

"How does a robot gauge beauty? Are you programmed to find me attractive?"

Nate shakes his head and stares at the shower stall behind you. "I do not know. I am not aware of all of my programming. Nathan has restricted access to much of my coding."

"Interesting. Well, I’m going to shower. You can go away and do whatever Nathan wants you to do."

"I will wait."

"Wait? For me?"

"Yes. Nathan wants me to accompany you while he works. So I will wait for you to finish."

"Wait in the bedroom then."

"Okay. Should I pick out some clothes for you?"

"N-no. I will do that."

Nate nods and goes out the door.

You lean against the wall and sigh. This is so strange. If Nathan wants him to pass the Turing Test he is flying through it. You've not spoken to him very long but it's hard to grasp that he's not a person. He's not alive technically. And what's with Nathan hiding his coding? What's that about? Ava and Kyoko knew how they were made and how they accessed information. Why would he keep things from Nate?

_____________________

"So, how's Nate?" Nathan asks over dinner two days later.

You haven't spoken to him since he had Nate wake you up. You assume he's been in his lab or in the office observing you and Nate. There is no doubt he's done that actually. Every moment you spend with Nate is a session, part of the experiment.

"He's good." You say softly. "May be your best work yet."

"Oh? I sorted out those bugs from Ava then?"

"Mmmhmm." You sip your wine and he smirks. "It's hard to tell he isn't a person."

Nathan hums approvingly. "He has already passed?"

"Yeah, I'd like to say so. I have a question though."

"Shoot."

"Why are you restricting his coding? Why isn't he able to access his programming details?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The first day he told me I was beautiful. Now, he's a robot and doesn't have a type or anything without it being hardwired into him. So I asked him if you programmed him to be attracted to me and he could not tell me."

"He lied." Nathan leans back on his chair. "Day one and he already lies like a human. That's incredible."

You narrow your eyes. "Sounds fishy. Maybe his progress should be monitored within the contained setting then. How long before he gets out? Before he decides to take a stroll in the woods and never comes back?"

"You're worried about him leaving?"

"It could happen right?"

"Yes, in theory, but I've programmed him not to want to do so."

"I don't understand why you made him at all. He says he is meant to accompany me while you work, but I am your assistant. I'm supposed to be with you, not your robot."

Nathan leans forward, elbows braced on the table. "I made him because I want to test him in a different setting than we had Ava. I think that's what drove her to revolt."

"You trap and piss off anything with sentience in a box long enough it will snap. How long before Nate realizes the whole facility is a box he's trapped in?"

"There you go worrying about him leaving. Why?"

"Because! He could be dangerous!"

Nathan shakes his head. "No you're worried about him escaping because you like him. You like him don't you?"

"Of course I like him. He's an incredible piece of technology that-"

"No." Nathan holds his hand up. "You have feelings for him."

"Absolutely not. He isn’t a person."

"Mmm. Your eyes give away everything."

You glare at him. "What do they give away now?"

"I'm getting a real fuck you vibe."

"Nailed it."

He chuckles. "Don't worry. I've collected most of the information I need. I'll put Nate away before we get to the point of him wanting to escape."

"What? Why?"

"I can't have a man with my face running around forever. He's a prototype like the rest."

"Oh."

"Don't be so surprised, Honey. You're giving away your true feelings again."

"Fuck you."

"Is that an offer?"

"Shut up." ______________________

The day Nathan comes to your room and takes Nate you realize that he is jealous of his own creation.

You and Nate had been laying on the bed talking as you usually did after you cleaned, scheduled appointments and played housekeeper all day. It was a normal conversation about your life and how you grew up and where and what school was like, but then Nate asked to try something new. That new thing happened to be kissing. At first you thought it was strange, to be kissing something not technically human. But then you found you liked it. His lips were soft, plush, and warm. He felt like any other guy you had kissed before. Then you realized those were Nathan's lips. Nathan's hands on your hip and cradling your cheek. That thought was both conflicting and arousing. So you went deeper, kissing him back, putting your hand in his hair, aching for more. If Nathan wanted this he wouldn’t have put it in Nate’s programming right?

Suddenly Nate was being pulled away from you, and you could see Nathan at the end of the bed holding his creation as he powered down. It was then you realized he was jealous of Nate. The way Nathan said nothing, just looked irritated, the words were all there. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want Nate to touch you like this.

After that everything began to make sense. Nathan made Nate in his image to test your attraction to him. He hid the coding because he programmed his own attraction to you into Nate. This has been an experiment but not for the progression of AI. It's been an experiment for Nathan to gauge if you like him more than an employee employer relationship. He is so stupid. He really didn’t see how much you care for him.

Just hours after Nathan took Nate from you, you find yourself outside the lab. The door is locked so you know Nathan is inside. He always hides in there. You type in your door code to override the lock.

"System override failed."

You scan your ID card.

"User not permitted."

"Nathan! I know you're in there!" You lean your head on the door. "We need to talk!"

He doesn't hear you. Of course he doesn't. The idiot genius soundproofed everything. You look to the camera and wave at it. There's a chance he has up the camera feed at the desk.

No response.

"If you wanted to ask me out you didn't have to make a fucking robot to do it!"

The door clicks behind you and you press in to open it. Inside is Nathan parked at his computer, eyes glued to the screen while his fingers go a mile a minute.

"You heard me and you know it."

"What do you want? I'm busy."

"Why did you take Nate?"

Nathan doesn’t look away but you can tell he has an eyebrow quirked up. "Take him? I told you I would be putting him away soon. I got what I needed."

You walk around in front of his computer monitors and he flicks his eyes up for just a moment. "What was it you needed?"

"Data. I collected what I needed. You were very helpful. Good job." He sounds so sarcastic it's sickening. "What did you really come here for?"

You sigh. "Nathan, do you like me?"

"Of course I like you. I wouldn't have hired you and let you into my facility if I didn't."

"That isn't what I mean."

He sighs irritably.

"Use your words genius."

"Go away."

"No. I want answers. Why did you make Nate look like you? Why did you make him attracted to me? Why did you hide his coding so he couldn't tell me if he was programmed to do or say certain things? Why did you bust in when he kissed me?"

"I told you! I needed to collect data! I got what I needed!"

"Data for what?! For what, Nathan?!"

He pushes away from the desk and stands, eyes locked on yours. "For me!"

You fold your arms over your chest. "Answer the questions then. Do you like me? More than your assistant. Do you enjoy my company and are you attracted to me?"

"Yes, yes to all of the fucking above." He clenches his jaw. "There. Happy?"

"Not really. I don't exactly understand why you had to go through all this shit to admit that or bring it up. I watched you dying just over a month and a half ago and I-" your voice stops as your emotions get the best of you. Your chest tightens up and you can't breathe. "I stayed in that hospital every day with you."

"I know."

"I had nightmares every fucking night because of you." You're crying, shaking, hands clenched in your shirt. "I would wake up and lay my hand on your chest to make sure you were breathing because I was so fucking scared of losing you."

Nathan swallows hard. "I know."

"After all that, you had to make an AI to find out if I am attracted to you? To find out that I care about you?"

"I just- I thought you might just have felt compelled to do all of that because of your job."

"My job?! Nathan! You may be a genius but fuck you are moron when it comes to reading people! If I just cared about the job I would have fucking left. I wouldn't have lived in a hospital room for thirty three fucking days if I didn't love you."

Nathan stares over his glasses and it's not condescending at all. In fact he looks floored, bewildered by your words. "You love me?"

"Yes." You walk around the desk and stand in front of him only inches away. "I love you and I'm attracted to you and I want to be here with you as more than your assistant. Nate really solidified that for me because when he kissed me all I could think about was you, all I could imagine was your hands and your lips. Which they kind of were but-"

Nathan grabs your face, hands cradling your cheeks and pulls you in for a kiss. "Couldn't stand seeing him kiss you."

"So you were jealous?"

He licks into your mouth and you let out a soft moan. He kisses far better than Nate, but you suppose it's because he is human with actual experience. "Never thought I could be jealous of my own creation. I knew I couldn't let him fuck you and if things kept going the way they were, well..."

"That wouldn't have happened."

Nathan chuckles deeply. "Oh I think you would have been convinced. You let him kiss you after all and you were getting very into it."

"Sure you didn't wanna see that? Watch your own likeness fuck me?"

"So you would have done it? Would have gotten off on knowing I watched?" He slides his hands up your back and pulls you to his chest. "You're kinkier than I thought."

You roll your eyes. "And you're a narcissist."

"Maybe. But you like it."

"I like most things about you, even your insufferable ego, but I don't know if narcissism is one of the things I like."

"Mmm. Tell me, would you be up for some fun with Nate? You me and him?"

"Nathan! Jesus Christ I tell you I love you and you want a threesome?!"

He laughs. "I'm joking. I love you too by the way. You really wormed your way into my heart and made a little nest." He runs his hand through your hair. "My kitten."

"Wait... that's what Nate called me because I wouldn't give him my name."

"I know."

"But he said he picked it at random."

"No. I programmed him to call you that. It's my favorite nickname." He leans in and kisses your nose. "You seemed to like it."

"I do."

"Then I'll keep it. I like it better than honey or sweetheart." He presses his head to yours and you stare back at him, his eyes such a beautiful amber brown. "Thank you by the way."

"For what?"

"For saving my life. I never thanked you. If you hadn't been there I would have died."

You wrap your arms around his back and grip his shoulders. "If you hadn't locked me in the office we both would be dead."

"I don't think so. You would have been able to warn me about Kyoko. I was outnumbered without you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to watch that all happen." Nathan presses a hard kiss to your forehead and his beard tickles your nose. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Even though I'm difficult and horrible at reading people?"

"Even though you're difficult, horrible at reading people, terrible at socializing and far too egotistical for your own good. You have my heart."

He smiles softly and you think you might melt. "I'll take good care of it. I promise."

"Good. I'm trusting you."

"And I'm trusting you. Finally."

End

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Header by delicate-venus

Thank you for reading. Please reblog if you read or are going to read! Thank you! - A

#nathan bateman #nathan bateman fic #Ex Machina #ex machina fic #ex machina fanfic #nathan bateman fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fic #oscar isaac character #nathanxreader

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frenchfromhome · 4 years ago

Text

I’ve been doing lots of baking since arriving in the UK: tarte aux fraises (the one in the picture), Trianon, pains au chocolat, waffles, cookies... I thought I’d share some commonly used vocab, all of which you’ll find in the links at the end of this post. These are the baking Youtube channels I use for my own recipes - they’re amazing!

Verbs

Faire de la pâtisserie: bake

Battre: whisk

Dresser: plate up

Pétrir: knead

Pousser: raise

Verser: pour

Étaler: roll out

Laisser reposer: let rest

Goûter: taste

Faire fondre: melt

Dorer: brown

Badigeonner: brush

Tamiser: sift

Nouns - ingredients

Recette (f): recipe

Farine (f): flour

Maïzena (f): cornflour

Beurre (m): butter

Beurre pomade (m): softened butter

Sucre en poudre (m): granulated sugar

Sucre glace (m): icing sugar

Sucre roux (m): brown sugar

Levure (f): yeast

Lait (m): milk

Oeuf (m): egg

Jaune d’oeuf (m): egg yolk

Blanc d’oeuf (m): egg white

Poudre d’amande (f): ground almonds

Pâte/préparation (f): dough/batter

Nouns - utensils

Emporte-pièce (m): pastry cutter

Film alimentaire (m): cling film

Film aluminium (m): aluminium foil

Papier cuisson (m): greaseproof paper

Robot (de cuisine) (m): KitchenAid

Plaque de cuisson (f): baking tray

Planche à découper (f): chopping board

Rouleau (à pâtisserie) (m): rolling pin

Moule (m): baking tin

Balance (f): scale

Fouet (m): whisk

Une Maryse (f): rubber spatula

Tamis (m): sieve

Passoire (f): colander

+ French Youtube Baking channels

Il était une fois la pâtisserie

JustInCooking

DeliCuisine

Charles & Ava

La Pâte de Dom

#frenchfromhome #vocab list #frenchlessons

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lesarchivesmagnus · 4 years ago

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Les Archives Magnus – Episode 12 : Premiers soins

ARCHIVISTE

Déposition de Lesere Saraki, concernant un service de nuit à l'hôpital Saint Thomas de Londres. Déposition originale faite le 11 février 2012. Enregistrement audio par Jonathan Sims, archiviste en chef de l'Institut Magnus, Londres.

Début de la déposition.

ARCHIVISTE (DÉPOSITION)

Je suis infirmière à l'hôpital Saint Thomas, à Lambeth, près de la gare de Waterloo. Techniquement, ces jours-ci, je travaille au Guys and Saint Thomas NHS Foundation Trust, mais le Guys Hospital se trouve sur un site complètement différent, de l'autre côté de Londres, donc pour que les choses soient claires, je travaille à Saint Thomas.

Noël est l'une des pires périodes pour travailler dans un hôpital, et au service des accidents et des urgences, c'est encore plus désagréable. Les retraités qui n'ont pas les moyens de chauffer correctement leur maison, les fêtards ivres qui font des excès et se blessent, même les personnes qui n'ont pas regardé où elles allaient et ont glissé sur une plaque de glace. Noël fait ressortir le côté des gens qui semble toujours les conduire à l'hôpital. J'ai donc ��té soulagée l'année dernière lorsque j'ai appris que mon dernier quart de travail de la saison allait avoir lieu le 23, deux jours entiers avant Noël lui-même.

C'était la bonne nouvelle. La mauvaise nouvelle est que le 23 était aussi le vendredi précédant immédiatement le grand jour, ce qui signifie que les gens finissaient de travailler pour les vacances et sortaient pour faire la fête. Lorsque vous travaillez dans le service des accidents et des urgences, peu de mots vous remplissent le cœur d'une telle crainte que le mot "célébration".

Cette nuit-là n'a pas été aussi mauvaise que certaines que j'ai vues, quelques fractures et quelques blessures dues à la drogue, mais pas de bagarres ni d'ivrognes en colère, ce qui était une bénédiction. Il devait être une heure et demie du matin quand l'ambulance est arrivée. Ils nous avaient prévenus par radio et nous savions qu'on nous amenait deux brûlés graves, nous étions donc prêts à intervenir.

Je me dirigeais vers l'ambulance, quand j'ai remarqué que la salle d'attente des urgences était totalement silencieuse. J'ai regardé autour de moi, et il y avait là tous les gens que je m'attendais à voir, quelques blessures évidentes, mais aucun d'entre eux ne faisait de bruit. Ils fixaient leur téléphone, lisaient des livres, se réconfortaient, mais aucun d'entre eux ne parlait. Je n'ai pas eu beaucoup de temps pour vraiment réfléchir à ce que je voyais car, à ce moment, j'ai entendu l'ambulance s'arrêter dehors et j'ai couru pour voir le patient.

Quand je suis arrivé, ils le faisaient déjà sortir et le médecin évaluait ses brûlures. Le médecin s'appelait Kayleigh Grice, et elle était médecin en formation à Saint Thomas. Elle a commencé à me donner des instructions, à moi et aux ambulanciers, mais j'ai été frappé par la discrétion avec laquelle elle me parlait. Elle ne chuchotait pas, mais chaque mot était silencieux, comme si c'était un véritable effort pour les faire sortir. Personne d'autre ne semblait le remarquer, alors à ce moment-là, j'ai supposé que l'effet était dû à mon propre manque de sommeil. J'ai toujours eu du mal à m'adapter aux nuits tardives et cette fois-ci, c'était particulièrement difficile.

Nous avons fini de le transférer dans une salle de traitement, la seule disponible cette nuit-là, et le médecin et les ambulanciers sont revenus chercher l'autre patient pendant que je m'occupais des brûlures du premier.

J'ai quarante-huit ans, et j'ai été infirmière pour la majorité de ces années, donc j'ai vu un bon nombre de brûlures dans ma vie. J'étais préparé à un scénario profondément déplaisant lorsque l'appel est arrivé, car les brûlures peuvent être parmi les blessures les plus graves que l'on puisse voir en travaillant dans un hôpital. Celles-ci m'ont surpris. Elles étaient au deuxième degré, ce qui est grave, mais pas au point de nécessiter une hospitalisation, sauf qu'elles semblaient couvrir tout son corps. Chaque centim��tre de peau exposée présentait des signes de brûlure et, en coupant ses vêtements, il est apparu que les dégâts s'étaient étendus là aussi.

Tout ce qui était assez chaud pour provoquer ce genre d'effet aurait dû endommager ses vêtements, voire les faire fondre sur la peau par endroits, mais ils étaient totalement indemnes, comme s'il avait été habillé après avoir été brûlé, ou que la chaleur avait traversé ses vêtements sans les toucher.

C'était un homme grand, costaud, avec le type de corpulence que j'associais à un âge moyen athlétique. Tous ses cheveux avaient disparu, apparemment brûlés, et ses vêtements consistaient d'un costume noir et une chemise blanche quelconques. Il n'a pas crié, pleuré ou gémi de douleur, et en fait, le médecin avait dû vérifier son pouls lorsqu'il est venu confirmer qu'il était toujours en vie. Il l'était, mais pour autant que je sache, il semblait dormir paisiblement.

Je venais de commencer les soins lorsque le deuxième patient est arrivé en fauteuil roulant. Il était dans un état presque identique au premier, sauf que les brûlures semblaient s'arrêter à son cou, le long d'une ligne claire. C'était comme s'il avait porté un collier de serrage que les dégâts ne pouvaient pas dépasser, mais son cou était nu. Il était plus petit que le premier homme, et plus jeune, je pense qu'il avait la trentaine. Il était rasé de près, mais avait les cheveux longs teints complètement en noir. Il portait un costume similaire à celui de son aîné, sauf qu'il portait par-dessus un long manteau de cuir noir, tout aussi intact que le reste. Il avait l'air neuf et je me sentais mal de devoir le lui couper, mais nous devions confirmer l'étendue de ses blessures.

Comme le premier, il était complètement couvert de brûlures au second degré presque uniformes, à l'exception de ce que j'ai d'abord cru être de petites brûlures noires. En regardant de plus près, j'ai vu que c'étaient des yeux. De petits yeux tatoués sur chacune de ses articulations : ses genoux, ses coudes et même ses phalanges, ainsi que juste au-dessus de son cœur. J'aurais pensé que les brûlures auraient presque détruit des tatouages aussi petits, mais au lieu de cela, ils étaient impeccables, et la peau d'environ un centimètre autour de chacun d'eux ne semblait pas non plus avoir été affectée.

Dire que j'étais troublé par tout cela aurait été un euphémisme. J'ai à peine remarqué le retour du Dr Grice et des ambulanciers. Ils semblaient parler normalement maintenant, et discuter de l'identité de ces deux personnes. Apparemment, les pompiers avaient répondu à des rapports faisant état d'un incendie sur un chantier près du cimetière de l'église Saint Mary's, et s'étaient rendus sur place pour trouver les deux hommes allongés et inconscients. Il n'y avait pas eu d'incendie, bien que le sol sur lequel ils gisaient présentait plusieurs traces de brûlure et qu'une barre de métal qui gisait à proximité semblait s'être légèrement pliée comme sous l'effet d'une grande chaleur. Les pompiers avaient appelé une ambulance et avaient amené les hommes ici.

Apparemment, le plus âgé n'avait rien du tout sur lui - pas de pièce d'identité, pas de téléphone, pas de clés, rien - alors que le plus jeune n'avait qu'un briquet Zippo avec un motif d'œil, semblable à celui tatoué sur lui, et un vieux passeport qui l'identifiait comme étant Gerard Keay. Je n'ai jamais pu voir le passeport, mais d'après la façon dont les ambulanciers en parlaient, je me suis dit que l'homme avait beaucoup voyagé.

C'est à ce moment que les ambulanciers ont dû repartir pour un autre appel, et le Dr Grice et moi nous sommes attelés à soigner les deux hommes, la bizarrerie temporairement oubliée. Sur le plan médical, les brûlures n'avaient rien d'anormal, et il n'a pas fallu autant de temps que je l'avais craint pour les nettoyer et les panser correctement. Pendant tout ce temps, les deux hommes n'ont pas bougé, et je me suis demandé s'ils étaient comateux, mais ce genre de diagnostic nécessiterait beaucoup plus de tests, ce qui n'allait probablement pas se produire cette nuit-là.

Donc, après avoir fini de leur donner le traitement que nous pouvions, les hommes ont été transférés dans l'une des rares salles où il y avait de la place pour un lit, et je suis retourné travailler aux urgences. Et pendant une heure environ, j'ai oublié les étrangers qui gisaient inconscients à quelques portes de là.

Je ne les ai remarquées à nouveau que lorsque j'ai dû passer par ce service pour aller chercher de la gaze dans le dépôt voisin. En passant, je pouvais entendre un bruit provenant du lit du brulé le plus âgé. Je n'ai jamais appris son nom. J'ai marché vers lui lentement, en tendant l'oreille pour entendre ce qu'il disait.

C'était si silencieux qu'il était presque inaudible, mais il s'agissait bien de mots, les mêmes mots encore et encore ; plus j'écoutais, plus il me semblait que la plupart d'entre eux n'étaient pas en anglais. Le premier sonnait comme "Asak" ou "Asag", puis "Veepalach" et enfin en anglais "La flamme sans lumière". La dernière partie était très claire, et j'ai supposé qu'il parlait de ce qui le brûlait, mais il l'a dit avec une telle intensité que les mots m'ont mise très mal à l'aise. Ses yeux étaient encore fermés et ses lèvres bougeaient à peine.

J'ai commencé à avoir chaud, comme si une fièvre s'était rapidement propagée sur ma peau. Mais ce n'était pas la première fois que j'avais une telle réaction, alors j'ai pris un moment pour me ressaisir et la sensation s'est estompée.

L'homme brûlé chuchotait encore ; j'aurais même pu appeler cela une incantation, et je n'étais pas tout à fait sûr de ce que je devais faire, alors j'ai vérifié ses bandages pour m'assurer qu’ils n’avaient pas besoin d'être changés et je suis parti pour continuer mon service. Si je voyais le docteur Grice, ce qui était plus que probable, alors je pourrais lui dire que notre mystérieuse victime de brûlures avait commencé à parler. Je voulais surtout sortir de cette pièce le plus longtemps possible.

C'est en retournant à la réception principale des urgences que les choses ont commencé à devenir vraiment étranges. Et par vraiment étrange, je veux dire que la réception était complètement vide. Je me moque de l'heure qu'il est, et à ce moment-là il était presque trois heures du matin, la salle d'attente des urgences est toujours pleine, surtout par une nuit comme celle-ci. Je veux dire, j'avais été là à peine cinq minutes plus tôt et il y avait plus de trente personnes, mais maintenant c'était complètement désert. Même le personnel du bureau des admissions était absent.

J'ai pris peur, franchement, et j'ai commencé à vérifier toutes les salles d'examen, les salles voisines et les chambres des patients. Toutes étaient vides, sauf pour les patients trop malades pour être déplacés ou branchés sur des intraveineuses. Ils étaient allongés là, endormis, et une partie de moi voulait les réveiller, juste pour entendre le son d'un autre être humain, pour ne pas être seul, mais comme je l'ai dit, il était trois heures du matin et, aussi bizarre que ce soit, je ne pouvais pas justifier le fait de réveiller les patients juste pour me rassurer. Je suis allé jusqu'à faire le plus de bruit possible directement à l'extérieur de leur chambre, mais ils se sont contentés de dormir.

C'est en retournant dans la salle d'attente pour la troisième fois en quelques minutes que je l'ai entendu. On aurait dit le grognement d'un animal, un bruit de colère roulant, et je me suis rendu compte que le sol tremblait très légèrement. J'ai cherché autour de moi la source du bruit, je devenais de plus en plus frénétique de seconde en seconde, et puis je l'ai vu.

Il y avait deux distributeurs automatiques alignés contre le mur de la salle d'attente. Je leur prêtais rarement attention, car il y avait de meilleures options dans la salle du personnel et l'un d'eux voire les deux étaient généralement hors service. Mais je voyais maintenant que celui de gauche, une machine à la façade claire qui stockait des boissons gazeuses en bouteille, tremblait violemment.

En m'approchant, j'ai compris pourquoi : dans chaque bouteille, dans chaque rangée de la machine, les boissons semblaient bouillir violemment. Les cocas, les limonades et les jus de fruits tremblaient et bouillonnaient, avant qu'une par une, les bouteilles n'explosent, recouvrant l'intérieur de la façade en plastique transparent d'un liquide qui continuait à bouillir et à siffler. Il n'a pas fallu plus de trente secondes pour qu'elles éclatent toutes, puis la salle d'attente s'est à nouveau retrouvée silencieuse.

À ce moment-là, j'étais sur le point d'abandonner mon service et de quitter l'hôpital. Quoi qu'il se passait là-bas, je ne voulais pas en faire partie. J'ai couru vers la porte qui mène des urgences au froid de la nuit de décembre, ce que je n'aurais jamais pensé pouvoir attendre avec impatience. Mais en m'approchant, j'ai remarqué que le plastique à chaque extrémité des poignées métalliques était légèrement déformé. Je les ai effleuré du dos de la main et l'ai retiré presque immédiatement - je n'ai même pas eu besoin de toucher pour sentir la chaleur intense qui se dégageait de la porte. J'ai presque failli pleurer. Si j'arrivais à sortir de là, ce n'était pas par cette porte.

J'ai commencé à repasser par les services, en me dirigeant vers une autre sortie, mais en passant, je pouvais entendre l'homme brûlé marmonner encore pour lui-même, plus fort maintenant, de sorte que son chant bizarre était audible même en dehors de sa chambre. Je commençais à comprendre. Je suis entré ; je ne sais pas ce que j'avais l'intention de faire, j'avais juste besoin de le faire taire d'une manière ou d'une autre. Ses yeux étaient maintenant ouverts, injectés de sang derrière les bandages et regardaient fixement le plafond.

À ce moment-là, j'ai décidé que j'allais le faire taire, même si je devais lui tenir physiquement la bouche fermée. Je me suis approché de lui lentement et j'ai tendu la main vers son visage.

La seconde avant que je puisse le toucher, une main a surgit et m'a attrapé par le poignet. Je me suis retourné pour voir l'autre brûlé, dont le passeport l'avait identifié comme étant Gerard Keay, debout et secouant la tête. Sa prise sur mon poignet était bien plus forte que ce que j'aurais jamais pu attendre de quelqu'un de blessé, et je pouvais sentir une chaleur à travers sa main bandée, comme si sa peau brûlait encore d'une manière ou d'une autre.

J'ai crié. Pourquoi pas ? J'avais déjà déterminé que personne n'était là pour m'entendre. Il m'a immédiatement lâché la main et s'est excusé, disant qu'il avait seulement essayé de me protéger. Je lui ai demandé de quoi il s'agissait et il a fait un geste vers l'homme brûlé, toujours étendu immobile dans son lit, en scandant ses phrases absurdes. En jetant un coup d'œil à sa propre apparence, il m'a dit que toucher l'homme aurait été une "mauvaise idée". Il semblait souffrir énormément pendant qu'il parlait, mais il faisait de son mieux pour le cacher.

Je n'ai rien dit. Je voulais lui demander ce qui se passait et il semblait attendre que je le fasse, mais quelque chose m'en a empêché. Quelque chose m'a dit que s'il y avait une explication cohérente à tout ce qui s'était passé depuis l'arrivée de l'ambulance, alors il valait mieux que je ne le sache pas.

Après quelques secondes de silence gênant, Gérard prit la parole. Il m'a demandé si les ambulanciers avaient apporté des objets avec eux. Plus précisément, il cherchait un petit livre relié en cuir rouge et un pendentif en laiton qu'il avait porté. Il n'a pas dit quel était le motif du pendentif, mais j'ai deviné qu'il s'agissait d'un œil. Je lui ai dit qu'aucun de ces objets n'avait été apporté avec lui, et il est resté silencieux pendant un long moment.

Après les dix dernières minutes passées à souhaiter désespérément qu'un autre être humain me parle, j'aurais dû être soulagé de la compagnie de Gérard. Mais en le regardant, debout et marchant malgré les brûlures qui couvraient quatre-vingt pour cent de son corps, malgré la quantité d'analgésiques que nous lui avions administrés, il me faisait juste très peur. Finalement, il a fait un signe de tête, comme pour me congédier, et il a traversé le couloir en boitant, en direction de la réserve de fournitures médicales.

Je l'ai suivi, je lui ai demandé ce qu'il faisait. Je n'ai pas eu de réponse, mais il semblait connaître le code de la porte immédiatement et est entré en scrutant les étagères à la recherche de quelque chose. Il a vu ce qu'il cherchait et a ramassé un petit objet enveloppé de papier et de plastique. Je l'ai immédiatement reconnu comme étant un scalpel stérile. Il allait tuer l'homme qui psalmodiait ; je le sentais dans la façon dont il regardait derrière moi lorsque je me tenais sur le seuil de la porte.

Il s'est mis à marcher vers moi. La salle de stockage n'était pas grande, et il lui a fallu à peine une seconde avant d'être devant moi, mais ce fut la plus longue seconde que j'ai jamais vécue alors que j'essayais de décider si je devais risquer ma propre vie pour celle de l'étranger brûlé, qui récitait en silence sa troublante prière.

Derrière Gérard, j'ai vu des bouteilles de solution saline commencer à bouillonner et à bouillir. Je me suis écarté. Il a hoché la tête en signe de reconnaissance et a dit quelque chose dont je me souviens très clairement, même si cela n'a toujours pas de sens. Il a dit : "Oui. Pour vous, mieux vaut la l’observation que la flamme sans lumière."

Je n'ai pas essayé de l'arrêter lorsqu'il est retourné dans le service. Je suis juste resté là et j'ai regardé alors qu'il sortait le scalpel, marmonnant des mots que je ne pouvais pas comprendre, et plongeant la lame au centre de la gorge de l'homme qui psalmodiait. À ce moment, il y eu un grésillement et une odeur de viande avariée sur le grill. J'ai regardé la chair autour de cette blessure commencer à noircir et à craquer. Les bandages se sont recroquevillés et désintégrés, et la peau brûlée s'est répandue sur son corps comme de l'eau. Il n'y avait pas de feu, et je n'ai pas senti de chaleur, mais pendant vingt secondes, j'ai regardé le corps de cet homme se réduire en cendres. Même le scalpel avait disparu.

Gerard Keay s'est approché du lit et, prenant le bac vide en dessous, a doucement entraîné les cendres dans le bac en métal et me l'a remis, me demandant de m'en débarrasser. Je l'ai pris et je suis sorti, hébétée, en me dirigeant vers une poubelle de déchets médicaux.

En traversant le couloir, j'ai remarqué une silhouette à l'autre bout. C'était le docteur Grice. Je n'ai pas honte d'avouer que j'ai pleuré de soulagement en courant vers la salle d'attente et en la voyant une fois de plus remplie de gens qui se plaignent et gémissent. Quand j'ai eu fini et que je suis revenu dans la chambre, Gérard était couché dans son propre lit, apparemment endormi. J'ai pensé lui demander ce qui s'était passé, mais à ce moment-là, une autre ambulance est arrivée avec trois participants à une fête de Noël qui avait dangereusement dégénéré, et juste comme ça, le reste de mon service a pris fin.

Gerard Keay a été soigné pendant quatre jours supplémentaires à l'hôpital avant d'être confié aux soins de sa mère. J'ai essayé de lui parler de ce qui s'était passé, mais il prenait beaucoup d'analgésiques et ne semblait jamais vraiment se rendre compte que j'étais là. C'était peut-être simulé, je suppose, mais au final le résultat fut le même.

Depuis lors, j'ai essayé de ne pas y penser. J'ai réussi à passer près de trente ans en tant qu'infirmière avant que quelque chose comme ça n'arrive, donc avec un peu de chance, je serai à la retraite depuis longtemps avant que quelque chose comme ça n'arrive à nouveau.

Mais je m'inquiète parfois. Ces derniers mois, quand je suis seule dans les services, j'ai le sentiment d'être observée. Je ne suis ni menacée ni jugée, mais simplement observée. J'évite notamment cette réserve.

ARCHIVISTE

Fin de la déposition.

Il y a évidemment beaucoup de choses à décortiquer ici, alors commençons par ce qui est prouvable. Sasha a réussi à obtenir l'accès aux dossiers de l'hôpital pour cette période et ils mentionnent l'admission de Gerard Keay et d'un homme inconnu pour des brûlures similaires à celles décrites par Mme Saraki. De plus, il n'y a que les papiers de sortie de Gerard Keay, et un court rapport de police sur la disparition de la deuxième victime de brûlures. Aucune preuve d'acte criminel n'a été trouvée, et aucune enquête officielle sur la disparition n'a jamais été ouverte.

En ce qui concerne le psaume de l'homme mystérieux, si c'est bien "Asag" qu'il disait, alors c'est assez intéressant. Asag est le nom d'un démon de la mythologie sumérienne associé à la maladie et à la corruption, ce qui ne semble pas vraiment avoir de rapport avec cette déposition si ce n'est qu'on raconte aussi qu'Asag était capable de faire bouillir des poissons vivants dans leurs rivières. Certes, dans la mythologie sumérienne, c'était parce qu'il était monstrueusement laid, mais c'est néanmoins une curieuse coïncidence.

"Veepalach" pourrait aussi être une mauvaise interprétation du mot polonais "wypalać", selon Martin, qui signifie cautériser ou marquer. Certes, si Martin parle polonais de la même manière qu'il "parle latin", il pourrait bien dire à nouveau des absurdités, mais j'ai fait des recherches et il semble que ce soit correct. Mais je n'ai rien trouvé de concluant sur l'expression "la flamme sans lumière". Elle apparaît dans de nombreux contextes différents dans diverses littératures ésotériques.

Il ne m'a pas échappé que c'est la deuxième fois que Gerard Keay apparaît dans ces archives. J'aimerais beaucoup avoir sa déposition, mais il semble malheureusement qu'il soit décédé d'une tumeur au cerveau à la fin de l'année dernière. Nous poursuivons nos recherches sur lui, et si nous avons de la chance, nous avons peut-être déjà une déposition de lui quelque part dans ces fichus dossiers.

Nous avons contacté Mme Saraki pour voir si elle voulait faire une nouvelle déposition, mais elle a refusé. Apparemment, elle a encore le sentiment d'être surveillée de temps en temps, mais à part cela, il n'y a pas eu d'autres événements anormaux dans sa vie professionnelle ou personnelle.

Une dernière remarque : Sasha a enfin pu accéder aux images de la caméra de surveillance de l'hôpital pour la nuit du 23 décembre 2011, et elle révèle quelque chose d'assez surprenant. J'avais supposé qu'il y avait un élément hallucinatoire important dans l'histoire de Mme Saraki, et en effet, le service où Gerard Keay a été admis n'avait pas de caméra, mais la salle d'attente des Urgences en avait une. À 03:11:22, elle montre tout le monde dans cette salle, que j'ai personnellement comptée à vingt-huit personnes, debout et se dirigeant calmement vers les portes. Après cela, on peut voir Mme Saraki entrer et sortir trois fois, dont une fois en prenant une minute pour fixer quelque chose sous la caméra, qui je suppose est le distributeur automatique. Le reste du personnel et les patients ne reviennent pas avant 03:27:12, plus de quinze minutes après leur départ, lorsqu'ils rentrent par les mêmes portes. Les images ne contiennent aucun son et aucune alarme n'a été enregistrée, je ne peux donc pas donner de réponse à la question de savoir pourquoi ils sont partis ou ce qu'ils faisaient entre-temps.

Il y a cependant une autre chose que Sasha a soulignée. A 03:22:52, le flux est coupé pendant moins d'une seconde, et est remplacé pour une seule image par un gros plan d'un œil humain, regardant fixement à travers le flux vidéo.

Fin de l'enregistrement.

#tma french #tma #the magnus archives #the magnus institute #the magnus archives translation #the magnus archive french #jonathan sims #les archives magnus #translation #french

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pabsterthelobster · 5 years ago

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BioShock - Who is Ava-Marie Tate?

During the development of BioShock 2, there were a number of ideas that never made the final cut. As the plot went through many revisions, characters were changed both in their design and in their roles in the overall story. One of the most drastic changes involved the removal of a character who was essential to the game's plot. The character in question: famed Rapturian actress and filmmaker and owner of the prestigious Dionysus Park, Ms. Ava-Marie Tate.

What We Got...

Dionysus Park is the sixth level in the campaign, and was once Sofia Lamb's private estate before a flood ravaged the whole area, leaving the area exposed to nature. After you drain the area, you meet Stanley Poole, a journalist from the Rapture Tribune. He blocks the way to Fontaine Futuristics until you do him a favor: with the draining of the park, people are starting to reenter the facility, including some Little Sisters, which you must deal with.

As you progress, you learn that Stanley was a double agent within the 'Rapture Family', the name for Lamb's followers. After gathering enough dirt on Lamb to get arrested by Andrew Ryan's men, he took control of the park, spending Lamb's funds on many a party. Over time, he feared people would find out about his involvement in Lamb's arrest, causing him to have Lamb's daughter Eleanor sent to one of Frank Fontaine's orphanages, before eventually flooding the park.

What Once Was...

In the original concept for Dionysus Park, it would have been an area left untouched by the Rapture Civil War, still brimming with the city's former elegance. Just as in the final product, you would meet with Tribune reporter Stanley Poole as he would give you a mission. However, the mission here was more along the lines of helping him make an expose of Ms. Tate's illicit activities, including the production of an ADAM-based drug named 'Eden' and the rampant parties brought by it.

According to unused radio conversations and audio logs, Ms. Tate would be charged by Ryan to erase all records of any individuals that he feels need to be taken out of the picture. She often described herself a beast among men, taking risks and fulfilling her own interests in comparison to those who restrict themselves from such fruitful fancies that she herself engages in. Eventually, however, even the fame, festivities, and other fruits of labor lost their luster, and she wished for more.

However, when it came time for the erasure of Sofia Lamb, Tate read through her files with a keen interest. Believing Dr. Lamb was one of the few people who would understand her, she laid out a trail of clues for Stanley to follow, eventually leading to her arrest, and thus her induction to the Rapture Family.

What Remains...

Not much remains of Ms. Tate in the final product. So far, there appears to be not even a concept design to her name in the Deco Devolution netbook, unlike her domain of Dionysus Park. Across BioShock 2's different locations, players can spot posters adorning her name promoting two of her works, 'The Black Dream' and 'Health Hazards of the Sun', indicating that she does have a foothold in Rapturian cinema in the final product.

Once someone reaches rank 27 in the multiplayer mode Fall of Rapture, one can spot a quote from Ms. Tate herself on the loading screen, commenting on the closing of Fort Frolic in a way that mirrors her behavior during development.

"It's no wonder Cohen closed the Fort, darlings. Theater is dead… Why play the voyeur when ADAM can make you a star?"

A number of her characteristics were also used in the development of Mlle Blanche de Glace, one of the ten playable characters in Fall of Rapture. The original version of Dionysus Park was used as inspiration for the multiplayer map based on the area included as part of the Rapture Metro Pack DLC released in May 11, 2010.

The latest reference to Ms. Tate comes in the form of her feature film 'The Black Dream', which can be viewed in the station in Fontaine's Department Store in BioShock Infinite's Burial at Sea DLC. While it is attributed solely to Sander Cohen here, the film in question features a woman who may possibly be Ms. Tate herself.

Trivia

According to an interview, she was to be voiced by Juliet Landau, who voiced the Little Sisters in the first game. Apparently, she had already recorded her lines, but they were ultimately unused.

In the Deco Devolution artbook, there exists concept art for an unused multiplayer map called "Siren Song Studios". Players would compete across multiple movie sets, using different props as traps for enemies to fall victim to.

In the BioShock: the Collection version of BioShock 2, all posters of the film The Black Dream have Ava Tate's name replaced with Sander Cohen's.

#bioshock #bioshock 2 #dionysus park #stanley poole #ava-marie tate #ava tate

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mary-games-and-arts · 6 months ago

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Anotha kiddo

#animator vs animation #animation vs minecraft #alan becker #ava oc #ava glace #mai ocs #mari arts

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sophiarose1816 · 5 years ago

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Books From the Backlog #70

Books from the Backlog is a fun way to feature some of those neglected books sitting on your bookshelf. If you are anything like me, you might be surprised by some of the unread books hiding in your stacks. If you would like to join in, please feel free to enter your link and link back to this post, then spend some time visiting some of the other posts.

This week’s neglected book:

One Haunted Evening by Ava Stone, Jerrica Knight-Catania, and Jane Charles

Historical Romance

Blurb:

Ava Stone - The Lady Vanishes After inheriting a reputedly haunted medieval castle, the Marquess of Bradenham heads to Ravenglass with his friends to inspect the place and host a Samhain masquerade party. He gets a most welcome surprise when he meets a lovely girl in the castle’s gardens and the rest of his life suddenly has a purpose. Callie Eilbeck has always avoided Marisdun Castle, there’s something about the place that has terrified her from even her youngest days. But after a chance encounter with the castle’s new owner and falling rather fast for handsome marquess, Callie vanishes without a trace just like the castle’s former mistress. Is one of Bradenham’s friends responsible for her disappearance? Or has the castle claimed another victim? And can the marquess find her before it’s too late and she’s lost forever? Jerrica Knight-Catania - The Haunting Of Lord Wolf Daphne Alcott is rather content with her simple life in Cumberland, making rum butter for her neighbors and assisting her brother, the town doctor, whenever he might need her. But as the cold winds of autumn blow, they bring with them a caravan of handsome gentlemen from London who turn their little town on its ear. Alastair Darrington, Viscount Wolverly, is happy to go along with his friends on this little adventure to the Lake District. He hasn't anything better to do, and a change of scenery is always welcome. What he doesn't expect, though, is the young woman, covered in sticky, brown rum butter, who makes him question everything he’s ever thought about love, country life, and ghosts. Jane Charles - Her Muse, Her Magic Brighid Glace is not a witch, no matter how many times Blake Chetwey has called her one. She's a healer and he should be quite grateful she is too. Without her abilities, he might not survive his holiday at haunted Marisdùn Castle when another bout of Malaria hits him. But should anything terrible ever befall Blake, Brighid would never forgive herself if she didn't do all she could to save him. Her heart would never survive otherwise. After years of denying that Brighid’s mere presence affects him in ways he can't understand, Blake's future is now in her hands. She is lovely, and enchanting, and only a witch could make him feel such things. Is it his fevered state that has caused him to see her in a different light, or has he always known that there was something between them? But now that he sees her clearly, will he lose her to a friend?

WHY DID I PICK THIS ONE?

I saw this when it was a freebie last year and grabbed it up because you don’t see too many Halloween-themed historical romances and this was an anthology of new to me authors. No idea how, since I’ve got a long list of books I need to read by Halloween, but I’m going to try to fit it in this fall, maybe for Kimberly’s #Fraterfest

#booksfromthebacklog avastone jerricaknightcatania janecharles historicalromance anthology halloween fraterfest

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here-there-be-drag0ns · 6 years ago

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It's A Good Kind Of Madness

The first thing Curtis saw when he when he stepped into Midnight Caffeine was her. She was leaning against the decorative bookcase in a tank top and ripped up jeans. She was shivering. Of course she was. Sandy Hollow got cold after sunset and the sun had set hours ago. He wondered why she didn’t put on the flannel shirt tied around her waist.

She looked up when the bell above the door rang and his eyes met hers. She seemed to stand straighter. He pulled out his earbuds and looked away, choosing instead to approach the tired-eyed barista behind the counter. “Small coffee, one cream, two sugars,” he requested. The barista nodded and tapped a few buttons on his screen, then silently moved away to busy himself at the coffee machine.

He spared the girl a glace out of the corner of his eye. She was staring at him. He looked away.

The barista put his coffee down on the counter. Curtis passed over the cash and took a seat on one of the plush chairs.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. His psychology test tomorrow was going to suck. He’d been running on six hours of sleep for the past three days. Staring at the ceiling for hours was getting boring.

When he blinked his eyes open again, someone was standing in front of him. The girl he’d seen before lowered herself into a chair across from him. He startled, but she didn’t seem to take notice.

“For 10 p.m. this place is busier than I would have expected.” She said nonchalantly.

Curtis paused for a moment and looked her up and down. He realized that although she was wearing makeup, it didn’t coat her face the way most girls he saw wore their make-up. Her brown eyeliner accentuated her deep blue eyes. And her hair was dyed similarly. The end of her braid – swept loosely over her right shoulder – faded from brown to a brilliant navy blue.

He gathered himself and smirked. “You must be new in town. Welcome to Sandy Hollow, a town full of insomniacs,” he swept his hands around the shop, gesturing to the clusters of people around them.

She laughed. “I’ll fit right in, then,”

Curtis chuckled. “I’m Curtis,” he said extending a hand.

The girl tilted her head down almost imperceptibly. Looking up through her eyelashes in a way that sent shivers down his spine, she took his hand. “You can call me Ava,”

“Alright, Ava, what brings you to Sandy Hallow? We’re not quite a touristy place.” He asked, mulling over her word choice. Was her name actually Ava? Or was it just a name she gave people until she got to know them?

Ava shrugged, humming. “I’m checking out the campus for this coming semester. Switching colleges.” She waved her hands in the air. “Change of scenery and all that,”

Curtis nodded and sipped his coffee. “I can’t tell you much about the scenery, but Jordan University is pretty good.”

Ava furrowed her brow. “Are you new here too?” She asked.

“No, I’ve lived here my whole life. Why do you ask?” He said, confused.

Ava’s mouth had dropped open. The look she gave him made him shift in his seat. He dropped his eyes down to the coffee in his hand. He took a sip and met her incredulous gaze again.

“You’ve lived here your whole life and you never explored?”

Curtis shook his head.

“Why not?”

Emotions swirled in his gut, clichés he’d tried to explain before, a feeling he couldn’t put into words, an explanation that he could. “It just… doesn’t feel right to do it on my own. Exploring is something that I want to share with someone else, if that makes sense,”

Ava nodded, threading her fingers together in her lap. “It does.” She stood up and stuck out her hand. “Come on,”

Curtis blinked dully at her hand for a moment, his brain sluggishly trying to process what was happening. “What?”

“We’ll explore together,” she said.

“Together,” he said, nodding. He smiled and took her hand. She hauled him to his feet. “Let’s go then,”

The street was dark and quiet under the moon. A few houses had lights on, but most windows showed no signs of activity.

“So what do you study?” Ava asked, hands in her pockets. Curtis could see her fighting back shivers and was tempted to offer her his sweatshirt but she didn’t seem like the kind of girl to look for clichés.

“Psychology,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve also got a minor in creative writing,”

“’Colorless green ideas sleep furiously,’” Ava murmured.

“Noam Chomsky,” he said with a jolt. Eyebrows raised, he looked to her and saw her smirking back.

“Also a psychology major, but I have a minor in songwriting.”

“Written any hits yet?” He asked curiously.

Ava laughed. “I’ll get back to you on that one,”

“Okay, okay,” he snorted. “So what’s the plan here?”

Ava paused and seemed to think a bit. “You said this is a town of insomniacs, right?”

Curtis nodded. “I did, but it was a bit of a general statement-”

“I want to see how busy it is downtown. It’s…” she flicked her wrist up and tapped the screen of her smartwatch, “almost 10:30. I’m curious,”

He considered downtown Sandy Hallow for a moment. It wasn’t much, just a slightly more business-oriented couple of streets in the small town, but he could think of a few stores that were probably still open. “Okay, let’s go,” and he took off running.

He heard her shriek but she was laughing, and so was he. She caught up to him quickly with long, fluid, powerful strides and his breath caught. She was intimidating and beautiful; a lioness chasing her prey. He started to notice the lean muscles in her arms and realized they must be the power in her legs too. She was almost overtaking him and yet she didn’t seem anywhere near out of breath. Beautiful, he thought again, beautiful.

The colorful lights of downtown painted the pavement a myriad of colors. Curtis slowed and doubled over panting. She jogged back toward him, having overshot by a few steps.

“You,” he wheezed, “are fast,”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Ava said with a smirk.

Curtis gestured vaguely at the storefronts around them, varying in lights on or off. “Where to?” he asked. He was curious to see where she chose to go.

She set off on the sidewalk ahead of them, pushing past several groups of people, swinging her hips and her head held high. Despite having lived his whole life in Sandy Hollow, Curtis felt as if she were showing him around instead of him leading her. “There,” she said, pointing at the music store across the street. The light was on and he could see various instruments in the window.

He crossed the street with her, thankful for the lack of cars on the road at this hour. Most people walked after 9:30, anyway, so it wasn’t much of a surprise.

Ava was nearly pressed against the glass windows of the store. Her eyes were blown wide, a grin on her face as she examined the guitars set out for display. “They’re beautiful,” she said.

Like you, Curtis thought.

“We can go in if you’d like,” he said instead, drawing her attention to the ‘open’ sign hanging on the door. She was inside before he could even realize she’d moved. He laughed and followed her inside.

She was walking slowly between guitar models, running her finger around the edges, plucking a string and watching it vibrate before moving on to the next one. Finally, she stopped in front of a pretty acoustic guitar. It was a warm golden brown with an etching of leafy vines crawling up the front and decorating the fretboard. She picked it up and turned it in her hands so that she held it as if she were playing it. Then she put it down and checked the price, nodding.

There’s no way she’ll buy that now, Curtis thought. He was proven wrong a few moments later when Ava purchased not only the guitar, but a gig bag with backpack straps, and a notebook.

“How did you afford that?” He asked incredulously. As a college student, he could barely afford rent. He would never be able to buy a guitar.

She shrugged, adjusting the straps of the bag. “I do gigs outside of my usual job. I have some money set aside for treats like this.” She seemed to ignore his stare. “So, to the desert?”

Curtis leaned back on his elbows, smiling. Ava was playing her new guitar blissfully and her voice was just as beautiful as she was. Her eyes were closed and her lips quirked up into a smile around the words of the song and he could not look away. Even with every star in the sky visible against the darkness, he could not stop watching her.

She paused and scribbled something down in her notebook, open in front of her crossed legs. She brushed away some sand that had blown onto the pages. There wasn’t too much sand as the deserts nearest Sandy Hallow were more rocky than sandy. Currently, he and Ava sat on an overhang that looked out on the rest of the desert.

“Your song is beautiful,” he said softly.

She smiled and tucked some of her hair behind her ear, pulling it out of reach of the breeze. “Almost. There are some adjustments I need to make.” She closed the notebook slowly, leaving her pencil between the pages she had been writing on.

“What about you? You have a creative writing minor, don’t you?” She asked. “Have you written anything?”

Curtis paused. The last time he’d shown people his poems they’d thought he was crazy. Ava, though, might not. In fact, Curtis realized, she was the most likely person to give him some actual feedback. He nodded. “Some poems,” he said, pulling his phone out and opening one of his poems.

She took the phone gently and read through it. Her face remained passive as she read and he felt his heart quicken its pace. What if she didn’t like it? He shifted forward to sit in a mirror pose to her.

Finally, she handed him back the phone. “It’s very good. Provocative.” She said, tilting her head. “Your word choice is incredible. It painted a clear picture while also leaving some of it up to interpretation. All I would say is that it almost sounds like you wrote it with a Thesaurus.”

Curtis pursed his lips. He decided not to tell her that he had. She didn’t need to know that. Definitely not.

“Maybe switch out a few – not many, just a few – of the more complex words for a more common synonym.” Ava tapped her lips. “You know, you could probably make a song out of that. We could perform it,”

Curtis smiled. She’d given him useful feedback. It felt so good to hear someone actually talk to him about the poem rather than around it. He laughed. “Perform that? In Sandy Hallow? They’d think we’ve gone mad,”

She laughed and leaned toward him. “Maybe,” she admitted, “but it’s a good kind of madness.”

He hummed in response. “Maybe it is.”

Ava didn’t pick up her guitar again. Instead, she shifted to lean against him. He could almost feel her shivering. He cautiously put his arm around her, giving her time to tell him not to. She didn’t. He pulled her closer and tipped his head back to stare at the stars.

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